x< 
 
 i
 
 
 BUR
 
 DR. ROBERTSON'S WORKS. 
 
 CHARLES THE FIFTH. 
 
 VOLUME I.
 
 PRINTED BY TALBOVS AND WHEELER, OXFORD.
 
 
 
 tliituttl fy Jl'
 
 THE 
 
 WORKS 
 
 OF 
 
 WM. ROBERTSON, D.D. 
 
 IN EIGHT VOLUMES. 
 
 THE THIRD VOLUME. 
 
 OXFORD, 
 
 PUBLISHED HV TALBOYS AM) \VHF.r.LKR, 
 AND W. PICKERING. J.M><>\. 
 
 MD( (< XXV.
 
 ID 
 
 V,
 
 TO THE KING. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 I PRESUME to lay before your majesty the history of a 
 period which, if the abilities of the writer were equal 
 to the dignity of the subject, would not be unworthy 
 the attention of a monarch who is no less a judge 
 than a patron of literary merit. 
 
 History claims it as her prerogative to offer instruc- 
 tion to kings, as well as to their people. What reflec- 
 tions the reign of the emperor Charles the fifth may 
 suggest to your majesty, it becomes not me to con- 
 jecture. But your subjects cannot observe the various 
 calamities which that monarch's ambition to be distin- 
 guished as a conqueror brought upon his dominions, 
 without recollecting the felicity of their own times, and 
 looking up with gratitude to their sovereign, who, 
 during the fervour of youth, and amidst the career of 
 victory, possessed such self-command, and maturity of 
 judgment, as to set bounds to his own triumphs, and 
 prefer the blessings of peace to the splendour of mili- 
 tary glory. 
 
 Posterity will not only celebrate the wisdom of your 
 majesty's choice, but will enumerate the many virtues 
 which render your reign conspicuous for a sacred re- 
 gard to all the duties, incumbent on the sovereign of a 
 free people.
 
 vi DEDICATION. 
 
 It is our happiness to feel the influence of these vir- 
 tues ; and to live under the dominion of a prince, who 
 delights more in promoting the public welfare, than 
 in receiving the just praise of his royal beneficence. 
 I am, 
 
 Sir, 
 Your majesty's 
 
 Most faithful subject 
 
 And most dutiful servant, 
 
 WILLIAM ROBERTSON.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 No period in the history of one's own country can 
 be considered as altogether uninteresting. Such trans- 
 actions as tend to illustrate the progress of its constitu- 
 tion, laws, or manners, merit the utmost attention. 
 Even remote and minute events are objects of a curi- 
 osity, which, being natural to the human mind, the 
 gratification of it is attended with pleasure. 
 
 But, with respect to the history of foreign states, we 
 must set other bounds to our desire of information. 
 The universal progress of science, during the two last 
 centuries, the art of printing, and other obvious causes, 
 have filled Europe with such a multiplicity of histories, 
 and with such vast collections of historical materials, 
 that the term of human life is too short for the study 
 or even the perusal of them. It is necessary, then, 
 not only for those who are called to conduct the affairs 
 of nations, but for such as inquire and reason concern- 
 ing them, to remain satisfied with a general knowledge 
 of distant events, and to confine their study of history 
 in detail chiefly to that period, in which the several 
 states of Europe having become intimately connected, 
 the operations of one power are so felt by all, as to in- 
 fluence their councils, and to regulate their measures. 
 
 Some boundary, then, ought to be fixed in order to 
 separate these periods. An aera should be pointed 
 out, prior to which each country, little connected with 
 those around it, may trace its own history apart ; after 
 which, the transactions of every considerable nation 
 in Europe become interesting and instructive to all. 
 Witli this intention I undertook to write the history
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 of the emperor Charles the fifth. It was during 
 his administration that the powers of Europe were 
 formed into one great political system, in which each 
 took a station, wherein it has since remained with less 
 variation, than could have been expected after the 
 shocks occasioned by so many internal revolutions, and 
 so many foreign wars. The great events which hap- 
 pened then have not hitherto spent their force. The 
 political principles and maxims, then established, still 
 continue to operate. The ideas concerning the ba- 
 lance of power, then introduced or rendered general, 
 still influence the councils of nations. 
 
 The age of Charles the fifth may, therefore, be con- 
 sidered as the period at which the political state of 
 Europe began to assume a new form. I have endea- 
 voured to render my account of it, an introduction to 
 the history of Europe subsequent to his reign. While 
 his numerous biographers describe his personal quali- 
 ties and actions ; while the historians of different coun- 
 tries relate occurrences the consequences of which 
 were local or transient, it hath been my purpose to 
 record only those great transactions in his reign, the 
 effects of which were universal, or continue to be per- 
 manent. 
 
 As my readers could derive little instruction from 
 such a history of the reign of Charles the fifth, without 
 some information concerning the state of Europe pre- 
 vious to the sixteenth century, my desire of supplying 
 this has produced a preliminary volume, in which I 
 have attempted to point out and to explain the great 
 causes and events, to whose operation all the improve- 
 ments in the political state of Europe, from the sub- 
 version of the Roman empire to the beginning of the
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 sixteenth century, must be ascribed. I have exhibited 
 a view of the progress of society in Europe, not only 
 with respect to interior government, laws and manners, 
 but with respect to the command of the national force 
 requisite in foreign operations; and I have described 
 the political constitution of the principal states in Eu- 
 rope at the time when Charles the fifth began his 
 reign. 
 
 In this part of my work I have been led into several 
 critical disquisitions, which belong more properly to 
 the province of the lawyer or antiquary, than to that 
 of the historian. These I have placed at the end of 
 the work, under the title of proofs and illustrations. 
 Many of my readers will, probably, give little atten- 
 tion to such researches. To some they may, per- 
 haps, appear the most curious and interesting part of 
 the work. I have carefully pointed out the sources 
 from which I have derived information, and have cited 
 the writers on whose authority I rely, with a minute 
 exactness, which might appear to border upon osten- 
 tation, if it were possible to be vain of having read 
 books, many of which nothing but the duty of examin- 
 ing with accuracy whatever I laid before the public, 
 could have induced me to open. As my inquiries con- 
 ducted me often into paths which were obscure or 
 little frequented, such constant references to the au- 
 thors who have been my guides, were not only neces- 
 sary for authenticating the facts which are the founda- 
 tions of my reasonings, but may be useful in pointing 
 out the way to such as shall hereafter hold the same 
 course, and in enabling them to carry on their re- 
 searches with greater facility and success. 
 
 Every intelligent reader will observe one omission 
 
 VOL. HI. b
 
 x PREFACE. 
 
 in my work, the reason of which it is necessary to ex- 
 plain. I have given no account of the conquests of 
 Mexico and Peru, or of the establishment of the Spa- 
 nish colonies in the continent and islands of America. 
 The history of these events I originally intended to 
 have related at considerable length. But, upon a 
 nearer and more attentive consideration of this part of 
 my plan, I found that the discovery of the new world ; 
 the state of society among its ancient inhabitants ; 
 their character, manners, and arts ; the genius of the 
 European settlements in its various provinces, together 
 with the influence of these upon the systems of policy 
 or commerce in Europe, were subjects so splendid and 
 important, that a superficial view of them could afford 
 little satisfaction ; and, on the other hand, to treat of 
 them as extensively as they merited, must produce an 
 episode disproportionate to the principal work. I have, 
 therefore, reserved these for a separate history ; which, 
 if the performance now offered to the public shall re- 
 ceive its approbation, I purpose to undertake. 
 
 Though, by omitting such considerable but detached 
 articles in the reign of Charles the fifth, I have circum- 
 scribed my narration within more narrow limits, I am 
 yet persuaded, from this view of the intention and na- 
 ture of the work which I thought it necessary to lay 
 before my readers, that the plan must still appear to 
 them too extensive, and the undertaking too arduous. 
 I have often felt them to be so. But my conviction of 
 the utility of such a history prompted me to persevere. 
 With what success I have executed it, the public 
 must now judge. I wait, not without solicitude, for its 
 decision, to which I shall submit with a respectful 
 silence.
 
 A VIEW 
 
 OF 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY 
 IN EUROPE, 
 
 FROM THE SUBVERSION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE TO THE 
 'BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 THE FIRST SECTION. 
 
 VIEW OF THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY IN EUROPE, WITH 
 RESPECT TO INTERIOR GOVERNMENT, LAWS, AND 
 MANNERS. 
 
 TWO great revolutions have happened in the political The effects 
 
 c iU rr ,-, of the Ro- 
 
 state and in the manners or the European nations. man ^^ 
 
 The first was occasioned by the progress of the Roman on the state 
 power ; the second by the subversion of it. When the 
 spirit of conquest led the armies of Rome beyond the 
 Alps, they found all the countries which they invaded, 
 inhabited by people whom they denominated barbari- 
 ans, but who were nevertheless brave and independent. 
 These defended their ancient possessions with obstinate 
 valour. It was by the superiority of their discipline, 
 rather than that of their courage, that the Romans 
 gained any advantage over them. A single battle did 
 not, as among the effeminate inhabitants of Asia, de- 
 cide the fate of a state. The vanquished people re- 
 sumed their arms with fresh spirit, and their undisci- 
 plined valour, animated by the love of liberty, supplied 
 
 VOL. III. L B 
 
 7
 
 2 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 The desoia- the want of conduct as well as of union. During those 
 !occa- lCh ^ on S an d fi erce struggles for dominion or independ- 
 
 sioned. ence, the countries of Europe were successively laid 
 waste, a great part of their inhabitants perished in the 
 field, many were carried into slavery, and a feeble rem- 
 nant, incapable of further resistance, submitted to the 
 Roman power. 
 
 The im- The Romans having thus desolated Europe, set 
 
 provements themselves to civilize it. The form of government 
 
 which it in- _ . 
 
 troduced. which they established in the conquered provinces, 
 though severe, was regular, and preserved public tran- 
 quillity. As a consolation for the loss of liberty, they 
 communicated their arts, sciences, language, and man- 
 ners, to their new subjects. Europe began to breathe, 
 and to recover strength after the calamities which it had 
 undergone ; agriculture was encouraged ; population 
 increased ; the ruined cities were rebuilt ; new towns 
 were founded ; an appearance of prosperity succeeded, 
 and repaired, in some degree, the havoc of war. 
 
 The bad This state, however, was far from being happy, or 
 
 conse- favourable to the improvement of the human mind. 
 
 quences of .IT 
 
 their do- The vanquished nations were disarmed by their con- 
 
 I0n ' querors, and overawed by soldiers kept in pay to re- 
 strain them. They were given up as a prey to rapa- 
 cious governors, who plundered them with impunity; 
 and were drained of their wealth by exorbitant taxes, 
 levied with so little attention to the situation of the 
 provinces, that the impositions were often increased in 
 proportion to their inability to support them. They 
 were deprived of their most enterprising citizens, who 
 resorted to a distant capital in quest of preferment, or 
 of riches ; and were accustomed in all their actions to 
 look up to a superior, and tamely to receive his com- 
 mands. Under so many depressing circumstances, it 
 was hardly possible that they could retain vigour or 
 generosity of mind. The martial and independent 
 spirit, which had distinguished their ancestors, became, 
 in a great measure, extinct among all the people sub-
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 3 
 
 jected to the Roman yoke ; they lost not only the habit 
 but even the capacity of deciding for themselves, or of 
 acting from the impulse of their own minds ; and the 
 dominion of the Romans, like that of all great empires, 
 degraded and debased the human species*. 
 
 A society in such a state could not subsist long. The iirup 
 There were defects in the Roman government, even in { 
 its most perfect form, which threatened its dissolution, nations 
 Time ripened these original seeds of corruption, and 
 gave birth to many new disorders. A constitution, un- 
 sound, and worn out, must have fallen into pieces of 
 itself, without any external shock. The violent irrup- 
 tion of the Gotlis, Vandals, Huns, and other barbari- 
 ans, hastened this event, and precipitated the downfal 
 of the empire. New nations seemed to arise, and to 
 rush from unknown regions, in order to take vengeance 
 on the Romans for the calamities which they had in- 
 flicted on mankind. These fierce tribes either inha- 
 bited the various provinces in Germany which had 
 never been subdued by the Romans, or were scattered 
 over those vast countries in the north of Europe, and 
 north-west of Asia, which are now occupied by the 
 Danes, the Swedes, the Poles, the subjects of the Rus- 
 sian empire, and the Tartars. Their condition, and 
 transactions, previous to their invasion of the empire, 
 are but little known. Almost all our infonnation with 
 r<-j>ect to these is derived from the Romans; and as 
 they did not penetrate far into countries which were at 
 that time uncultivated and uninviting, the accounts of 
 their original state given by the Roman historians, are 
 extremely imperfect. The rude inhabitants themselves, 
 destitute of science, as well as of records, and without 
 leisure, or curiosity, to inquire into remote events, re- 
 tained, perhaps, some indistinct memory of recent 
 occurrences ; but beyond these, all was buried in ob- 
 livion, or involved in darkness and in fable b . 
 
 .le i. b Note li. 
 
 B 9,
 
 4 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 State of the The prodigious swarms which poured in upon the 
 fro^which empire from the beginning of the fourth century to the 
 they issued, final extinction of the Roman power, have given rise to 
 an opinion that the countries whence they issued were 
 crowded with inhabitants; and various theories have 
 been formed to account for such an extraordinary de- 
 gree of population as hath produced these countries 
 the appellation of ' the storehouse of nations.' But if 
 we consider, that the coantries possessed by the people 
 who invaded the empire were of vast extent ; that a 
 great part of these was covered with woods and 
 marshes ; that some of the most considerable of the 
 barbarous nations subsisted entirely by hunting or pas- 
 turage, in both which states of society large tracts of 
 land are required for maintaining a few inhabitants; 
 and that all of them were strangers to the arts and 
 industry, without which population cannot increase to 
 any great degree, we must conclude, that these coun- 
 tries could not be so populous in ancient times as they 
 are in the present, when they still continue to be less 
 peopled than any other part of Europe or of Asia. 
 The people But the same circumstances that prevented the bar- 
 enterpHsesf arous nations from becoming populous, contributed to 
 inspire, or to strengthen, the martial spirit by which 
 they were distinguished. Inured by the rigour of their 
 climate, or the poverty of their soil, to hardships which 
 rendered their bodies firm, and their minds vigorous ; 
 accustomed to a course of life which was a continual 
 preparation for action ; and disdaining every occupation 
 but that of war or of hunting ; they undertook and pro- 
 secuted their military enterprises with an ardour and 
 impetuosity, of which men softened by the refinements 
 of more polished times can scarcely form any idea c . 
 The motives Their first inroads into the empire proceeded rather 
 first from the love of plunder, than from the desire of new- 
 settlements. Roused to arms by some enterprising or 
 
 c Note iii.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 5 
 
 popular leader, they sallied out of their forests ; broke 
 in upon the frontier provinces with irresistible violence ; 
 put all who opposed them to the sword ; carried off the 
 most valuable effects of the inhabitants ; dragged along 
 multitudes of captives in chains ; wasted all before 
 them with fire or sword; and returned in triumph to 
 their wilds and fastnesses. Their success, together 
 with the accounts which they gave of the unknown 
 conveniences and luxuries that abounded in countries 
 better cultivated, or blessed with a milder climate than 
 their own, excited new adventurers, and exposed the 
 frontier to new devastations. 
 
 When nothing was left to plunder in the adjacent Their rea- 
 provinces, ravaged by frequent excursions, they march- ^ t n t jin 0r in 
 ed further from home, and finding it difficult or dan- the coun- 
 gerous to return, they began to settle in the countries 
 which they had subdued. The sudden and short ex- 
 cursions in quest of booty, which had alarmed and 
 disquieted the empire, ceased ; a more dreadful cala- 
 mity impended. Great bodies of armed men, with 
 their wives and children, and slaves and flocks, issued 
 forth, like regular colonies, in quest of new settlements. 
 People who had no cities, and seldom any fixed habita- 
 tion, were so little attached to their native soil, that 
 they migrated without reluctance from one place to 
 another. New adventurers followed them. The lands 
 which they deserted were occupied by more remote 
 tribes of barbarians. These, in their turn, pushed for- The extent 
 ward into more fertile countries, and, like a torrent settlements 
 continually increasing, rolled on, and swept every thing 
 before them. In less than two centuries from their 
 first irruption, barbarians of various names and lineage 
 plundered, and took possession of Thrace, Pannonia, 
 (iaul, Spain, Africa, and at last of Italy, and Rome 
 itself. The vast fabric of the Roman power, which it 
 had been the work of ages to perfect, was, in that short 
 period, overturned from the foundation. 
 
 Many concurring causes prepared the way for this
 
 6 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 Thecircum- great revolution, and ensured success to the nations 
 wh"ch S oc wu ich invaded the empire. The Roman commonwealth 
 casionedthe had conquered the world by the wisdom of its civil 
 the" Roman Hiaxims, an( l the rigour of its military discipline. But, 
 empire. under the emperors, the former were forgotten or de- 
 spised, and the latter was gradually relaxed. The 
 armies of the empire in the fourth and fifth centuries 
 bore scarcely any resemblance to those invincible le- 
 gions which had been victorious wherever they marched. 
 Instead of freemen, who voluntarily took arms, from the 
 love of glory, or of their country, provincials and bar- 
 barians were bribed or forced into service. These were 
 too feeble, or too proud, to submit to the fatigue of 
 military duty. They even complained of the weight of 
 their defensive armour, as intolerable, and laid it aside. 
 Infantry, from which the armies of ancient Rome de- 
 rived their vigour and stability, fell into contempt ; the 
 effeminate and undisciplined soldiers of later times 
 could hardly be brought to venture into the field but 
 on horseback. These wretched troops, however, were 
 the only guardians of the empire. The jealousy of 
 despotism had deprived the people of the use of arms ; 
 and subjects, oppressed and rendered incapable of de- 
 fending themselves, had neither spirit nor inclination to 
 resist their invaders, from whom they had little to fear, 
 because \heir condition could hardly be rendered more 
 unhappy. At the same time that the martial spirit 
 became extinct, the revenues of the empire gradually 
 diminished. The taste for the luxuries of the east in- 
 creased to such a pitch in the imperial court, that great 
 sums were carried into India, from which, in the chan- 
 nel of commerce, money never returns. By the large 
 subsidies paid to the barbarous nations, a still greater 
 quantity of specie was withdrawn from circulation. The 
 frontier provinces, wasted by frequent incursions, be- 
 came unable to pay the customary tribute; and the 
 wealth of the world, which had long centred in the 
 capital of the empire, ceased to flow thither in the same
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 7 
 
 abundance, or was diverted into other channels. The 
 limits of the empire continued to be as extensive as 
 ever, while the spirit requisite for its defence declined, 
 and its resources were exhausted. A vast body, lan- 
 guid, and almost unanimated, became incapable of any 
 effort to save itself, and was easily overpowered. The 
 emperors, who had the absolute direction of this disor- 
 dered system, sunk in the softness of eastern luxury, 
 shut up within the walls of a palace, ignorant of war, 
 unacquainted with affairs, and governed entirely by 
 women and eunuchs, or by ministers equally effeminate, 
 trembled at the approach of danger, and, under cir- 
 cumstances which called for the utmost vigour in coun- 
 sel as well as in action, discovered all the impotent 
 irresolution of fear and of folly. 
 
 In every respect, the condition of the barbarous na- The circum- 
 tions was the reverse of that of the Romans. Among ^"^con- 
 the former, the martial spirit was in full vigour ; their tributed to 
 leaders were hardy and enterprising ; the arts which O f tne 
 
 had enervated the Romans were unknown ; and such barbarous 
 
 i ,. , . .,. ... , , nations. 
 
 was the nature of their military institutions, that they 
 
 brought forces into the field without any trouble, and 
 supported them at little expense. The mercenary and 
 effeminate troops stationed on the frontier, astonished 
 at their fierceness, either fled at their approach, or 
 were routed on the first onset. The feeble expedient 
 to which the emperors had recourse, of taking large 
 bodies of the barbarians into pay, and of employing 
 them to repel new invaders, instead of retarding, hast- 
 ened the destruction of the empire. These mercena- 
 ries soon turned their arms against their masters, and 
 with greater advantage than ever; for, by serving in 
 tin- Roman armies, they had acquired all the discipline, 
 or skill in war, which the Romans still retained ; and, 
 upon adding these to their native ferocity, they became 
 altogether irresistible. 
 
 Hut though, from these, and many other causes, the The spirit 
 progress and conquests of the nations which overran wlth which
 
 8 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 they carried the empire, became so extremely rapid, they were 
 on war. accompanied with horrible devastations, and an incre- 
 dible destruction of the human species. Civilized 
 nations, which take arms upon cool reflection, from 
 motives of policy or prudence, with a view to guard 
 against some distant danger, or to prevent some remote 
 contingency, carry on their hostilities with so little 
 rancour or animosity, that war among them is dis- 
 armed of half its terrours. Barbarians are strangers 
 to such refinements. They rush into war with im- 
 petuosity, and prosecute it with violence. Their sole 
 object is to make their enemies feel the weight of their 
 vengeance ; nor does their rage subside until it be sa- 
 tiated with inflicting on them every possible calamity. 
 It is with such a spirit that the savage tribes in Ame- 
 rica carry on their petty wars. It was with the same 
 spirit that the more powerful and no less fierce bar- 
 barians in the north of Europe, and of Asia, fell upon 
 the Roman empire. 
 
 The desola- Wherever they marched, their route was marked with 
 they W ' "bld. They ravaged or destroyed all around them. 
 brought They made no distinction between what was sacred, and 
 rope. what was profane. They respected no age, or sex, or 
 
 rank. What escaped the fury of the first inundation, 
 perished in those which followed it. The most fertile 
 and populous provinces were converted into deserts, in 
 which were scattered the ruins of villages and cities, that 
 afforded shelter to a few miserable inhabitants, whom 
 chance had preserved, or the sword of the enemy, wea- 
 ried with destroying, had spared. The conquerors who 
 first settled in the countries which they had wasted, 
 were expelled or exterminated by new invaders, who, 
 coming from regions further removed from the civilized 
 parts of the world, were still more fierce and rapacious. 
 This brought fresh calamities upon mankind, which 
 did not cease, until the north, by pouring forth suc- 
 cessive swarms, was drained of people, and could no 
 longer furnish instruments of destruction. Famine and
 
 SECT. r. STATE OF EUROPE. 9 
 
 pestilence, which always march in the train of war, 
 when it ravages with such inconsiderate cruelty, raged 
 in every part of Europe, and completed its sufferings. 
 If a man were called to fix upon the period in the 
 history of the world, during which the condition of 
 the human race was most calamitous and afflicted, he 
 would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed 
 from the death of Theodosius the great, to the es- 
 tablishment of the Lombards in Italy d . The con- 
 temporary authors, who beheld that scene of desola- 
 tion, labour and are at a loss for expressions to describe 
 the horrour of it. * The scourge of God, the destroyer 
 of nations,' are the dreadful epithets by which they 
 distinguish the most noted of the barbarous leaders ; 
 and they compare the ruin which they had brought on 
 the world, to the havoc occasioned by earthquakes, 
 conflagrations, or deluges, the most formidable and 
 fatal calamities which the imagination of man can 
 conceive. 
 
 But no expressions can convey so perfect an idea of The univer- 
 the destructive progress of the barbarians, as that whidAh^y 
 which must strike an attentive observer, when he con- occasioned 
 templates the total change which he will discover in O f Europe. 
 the state of Europe, after it began to recover some 
 degree of tranquillity, towards the close of the sixth 
 century. The Saxons were, by that time, masters of 
 the southern, and more fertile provinces of Britain ; 
 the Franks of Gaul ; the Huns of Pannonia ; the Goths 
 of Spain ; the Goths and Lombards of Italy and the 
 adjacent provinces. Very faint vestiges of the Roman 
 policy, jurisprudence, arts, or literature remained. New 
 forms of government, new laws, new manners, new 
 dresses, new languages, and new names of men and 
 countries, were every where introduced. To make a 
 great or sudden alteration, with respect to any of these, 
 
 * Theodosius died a.d. 395; the reign of Alboinus in Lombard^ begm 
 a.d. 671 ; so that this period was one hundred and seventy-six years.
 
 10 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 unless where the ancient inhabitants of a country have 
 been almost totally exterminated, has proved an under- 
 taking beyond the power of the greatest conquerors e . 
 The great change which the settlement of the bar- 
 barous nations occasioned in the state of Europe, may, 
 therefore, be considered as a more decisive proof, than 
 even the testimony of contemporary historians, of the 
 destructive violence with which these invaders carried 
 on their conquests, and of the havoc which they had 
 made from one extremity of this quarter of the globe 
 to the other f . 
 
 From this I n the obscurity of the chaos occasioned by this 
 state of dis- general wreck of nations, we must search for the seeds 
 
 order the . 
 
 laws of go- oi order, and endeavour to discover the first rudiments 
 
 vemment o f fa e p O }j C y anc | laws now established in Europe. To 
 
 now esta- J 
 
 blished this source the historians of its different kingdoms have 
 
 attempted, though with less attention and industry than 
 the importance of the inquiry merits, to trace back the 
 institutions, and customs peculiar to their countrymen. 
 It is not my province to give a minute detail of the 
 progress of government and manners in each particular 
 nation, whose transactions are the object of the fol- 
 lowing history. But, in order to exhibit a just view of 
 the state of Europe at the opening of the sixteenth 
 century, it is necessary to look back and to contem- 
 plate the condition of the northern nations upon their 
 first settlement in those countries which they occupied. 
 It is necessary to mark the great steps by which they 
 advanced from barbarism to refinement, and to point 
 out those general principles and events which, by their 
 uniform as well as extensive operation, conducted all 
 of them to that degree of improvement in policy and 
 in manners which they had attained at the period 
 when Charles the fifth began his reign. 
 
 The princi- When nations subject to despotic government make 
 pl [f -Tib conquests, these serve only to extend the dominion and 
 
 
 
 e Not iv. f Note v.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 11 
 
 the power of their master. But armies composed of northern 
 freemen conquer for themselves, not for their leaders, "^^heir 
 The people who overturned the Roman empire, and settlements 
 settled in its various provinces, were of the latter class. m 
 Not only the different nations that issued from the 
 north of Europe, which has always been considered 
 as the seat of liberty, but the Huns and Alans, who 
 inhabited part of those countries which have been 
 marked out as the peculiar region of servitude g , en- 
 joyed freedom and independence in such a high degree 
 as seems to be scarcely compatible with a state of so- 
 cial union, or with the subordination necessary to main- 
 tain it. They followed the chieftain who led them 
 forth in quest of new settlements, not by constraint, 
 but from choice ; not as soldiers whom he could order 
 to march, but as volunteers who offered to accompany 
 him 1 '. They considered their conquests as a common 
 property, in which all had a title to share, as all had 
 contributed to acquire them 1 . In what manner, or by 
 what principles, they divided among them the lands 
 which they seized, we cannot now determine with any 
 certainty. There is no nation in Europe whose re- 
 cords reach back to this remote period ; and there is 
 little information to be got from the uninstructive and 
 meagre chronicles, compiled by writers ignorant of the 
 true end, and unacquainted with the proper objects 
 of history. 
 
 This new division of property, however, together The feudal 
 with the maxims and manners to which it gave rise, & ov ' ei n ent 
 gradually introduced a species of government formerly established 
 unknown. This singular institution is now distinguish- 
 ed by the name of the ' feudal system :' and though 
 the barbarous nations which framed it, settled in their 
 new territories, at different times, came from different 
 countries, spoke various languages, and were under the 
 command of separate leaders, the feudal policy and 
 
 * D I'Espht des Loix, liv. xvii. ch. 3. ' Note vi. ' \ote\ii.
 
 12 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 laws were established, with little variation, in every 
 kingdom of Europe. This amazing uniformity hath 
 induced some authors k to believe that all these nations, 
 notwithstanding so many apparent circumstances of 
 distinction, were originally the same people. But it 
 may be ascribed, with greater probability, to the si- 
 milar state of society and of manners to which they 
 were accustomed in their native countries, and to the 
 similar situation in which they found themselves on 
 taking possession of their new domains. 
 
 As the conquerors of Europe had their acquisitions 
 to maintain, not only against such of the ancient in- 
 habitants as they had spared, but against the more 
 formidable inroads of new invaders, self-defence was 
 their chief care, and seems to have been the chief 
 
 National object of their first institutions and policy. Instead 
 "eaiTob t ^ th se l ose associations, which, though they scarce- 
 
 of feudal ly diminished their personal independence, had been 
 sufficient for their security while they remained in their 
 original countries, they saw the necessity of uniting in 
 more close confederacy, and of relinquishing some of 
 their private rights in order to attain public safety. 
 Every freeman, upon receiving a portion of the lands 
 which were divided, bound himself to appear in arms 
 against the enemies of the community. This military 
 service was the condition upon which he received and 
 held his lands : and as they were exempted from every 
 other burthen, that tenure, among a warlike people, 
 was deemed both easy and honourable. The king or 
 general, who led them to conquest, continuing still to 
 be the head of the colony, had, of course, the largest 
 portion allotted to him. Having thus acquired the 
 means of rewarding past services, as well as of gaining 
 new adherents, he parcelled out his lands with this 
 view, binding those on whom they were bestowed, to 
 resort to his standard with a number of men in pro- 
 
 k Procop. de Bello Vandal, ap. Script. Byz. edit. Ven. vol i. p. 345.
 
 SECT. r. STATE OF EUROPE. 13 
 
 portion to the extent of the territory which they re- 
 ceived, and to hear arms in his defence. His chief 
 officers imitated the example of the sovereign, and, in 
 distributing portions of their lands among their de- 
 pendents, annexed the same condition to the grant. 
 Thus a feudal kingdom resembled a military establish- 
 ment, rather than a civil institution. The victorious 
 army, cantoned out in the country which it had seized, 
 continued ranged under its proper officers, and subor- 
 dinate to military command. The names of a soldier 
 and of a freeman were synonymous 1 . Every proprietor 
 of land, girt with a sword, was ready to march at the 
 summons of his superior, and to take the field against 
 the common enemy. 
 
 But though the feudal policy seems to be so admira- The feudal 
 bly calculated for defence against the assaults of any 
 
 foreign power, its provisions for the interior order and lt ? 
 tranquillity of society were extremely defective. The tenor order 
 principles of disorder and corruptions are discernible m societ y- 
 in that constitution under its best and most perfect 
 form. They soon unfolded themselves, and, spreading 
 with rapidity through every part of the system, pro- 
 duced the most fatal effects. The bond of political 
 union was extremely feeble; the sources of anarchy 
 were innumerable. The monarchial and aristocratical 
 parts of the constitution, having no intermediate power 
 to balance them, were perpetually at variance, and 
 justling with each other. The powerful vassals of the 
 crown soon extorted a confirmation for life of those 
 grants of land, which, being at first purely gratuitous, 
 had been bestowed only during pleasure. Not satisfied 
 with this, they prevailed to have them converted into 
 hereditary possessions. One step more completed their 
 usurpations, and rendered them unalienable m . With 
 an ambition no less enterprising, and more preposte- 
 rous, they appropriated to themselves titles of honour, 
 
 1 Du Cange Glossar. voc. miles. "' Note viii.
 
 14 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 as well as offices of power or trust. These personal 
 marks of distinction, which the public admiration he- 
 stows on illustrious merit, or which the puhlic confi- 
 dence confers on extraordinary abilities, were annexed 
 to certain families, and transmitted like fiefs, from 
 father to son by hereditary right. The crown vassals 
 having thus secured the possession of their lands and 
 dignities, the nature of the feudal institutions, which, 
 though founded on subordination, verged to independ- 
 ence, led them to new, and still more dangerous en- 
 croachments on the prerogatives of the sovereign. 
 They obtained the power of supreme jurisdiction, both 
 civil and criminal, within their own territories ; the right 
 of coining money ; together with the privilege of carry- 
 ing on war against their private enemies, in their own 
 name, and by their own authority. The ideas of po- 
 litical subjection were almost entirely lost, and frer 
 quently scarce any appearance of feudal subordination 
 remained. Nobles who had acquired such enormous 
 power, scorned to consider themselves as subjects. 
 They aspired openly at being independent ; the bonds 
 which connected the principal members of the constitu- 
 tion with the crown, were dissolved. A kingdom, con- 
 siderable in name and in extent, was broken into as 
 many separate principalities as it contained powerful 
 barons. A thousand causes of jealousy and discord 
 subsisted among them, and gave rise to as many wars. 
 Every country in Europe, wasted or kept in continual 
 alarm during these endless contests, was filled with 
 castles and places of strength, erected for the secu- 
 rity of the inhabitants ; not against foreign force, but 
 against internal hostilities. An universal anarchy, de- 
 structive, in a great measure, of all the advantages 
 which men expect to derive from society, prevailed. 
 The people, the most numerous as well as the most 
 useful part of the community, were either reduced to a 
 state of actual servitude, or treated with the same inso- 
 lence and rigour as if they had been degraded into that
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 15 
 
 wretched condition". The king, stripped of almost 
 every prerogative, and without authority to enact or to 
 execute salutary laws, could neither protect the inno- 
 cent, nor punish the guilty. The nobles, superior to 
 all restraint, harassed each other with perpetual wars, 
 oppressed their fellow-subjects, and humbled or in- 
 sulted their sovereign. To crown all, time gradually 
 fixed, and rendered venerable, this pernicious system, 
 which violence had established. 
 
 Such was the state of Europe with respect to the in- It prevented 
 terior administration of government from the seventh to 
 the eleventh century. All the external operations of acting with 
 its various states, during this period, were, of course, t hei r exter- 
 
 extremely feeble. A kingdom dismembered, and torn na : 1 P er - 
 
 . . . ations. 
 
 with dissension, without any common interest to rouse, 
 
 or any common head to conduct its force, was incapable 
 of acting with vigour. Almost all the wars in Europe, 
 during the ages which I have mentioned, were trifling, 
 indecisive, and productive of no considerable event. 
 They resembled the short incursions of pirates or ban- 
 ditti, rather than the steady operations of a regular 
 army. Every baron, at the head of his vassals, carried 
 on some petty enterprise, to which he was prompted by 
 his own ambition, or revenge. The state itself, desti- 
 tute of union, either remained altogether inactive, or, if 
 it attempted to make any effort, that served only to dis- 
 cover its impotence. The superior genius of Charle- 
 magne, it is true, united all these disjointed and dis- 
 cordant members, and, forming them again into one 
 body, restored to government that degree of activity 
 which distinguishes his reign, and renders the transac- 
 tions of it, objects not only of attention but of admira- 
 tion to more enlightened times. But this state of union 
 and vigour, not being natural to the feudal government, 
 was of short duration. Immediately upon his death, 
 the spirit which animated and sustained the vast sys- 
 
 Noieix.
 
 sciences and 
 arts: 
 
 16 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 tern which he had established being withdrawn, it 
 broke into pieces. All the calamities which flow from 
 anarchy and discord, returning with additional force, 
 aillicted the different kingdoms into which his empire 
 was split. From that time to the eleventh century, a 
 succession of uninteresting events, a series of wars, the 
 motives as well as the consequences of which were un- 
 important, fill and deform the annals of all the nations 
 hi Europe. 
 
 The fatal To these pernicious effects of the feudal anarchy 
 effects of ma y jj e added its fatal influence on the character and 
 
 tins state of . J 
 
 society on improvement of the human mind. If men do not enjoy 
 the protection of regular government, together with 
 the expectation of personal security, which naturally 
 flows from it, they never attempt to make progress in 
 science, nor aim at attaining refinement in taste, or in 
 manners. That period of turbulence, oppression, and 
 rapine, which I have described, was ill suited to favour 
 improvement in any of these. In less than a century 
 after the barbarous nations settled in their new con- 
 quests, almost all the effects of the knowledge and 
 civility, which the Romans had spread through Europe, 
 disappeared. Not only the arts of elegance, which 
 minister to luxury, and are supported by it, but many 
 of the useful arts, without which life can scarcely be 
 considered as comfortable, were neglected or lost. Li- 
 terature, science, taste, were words little in use during 
 the ages which we are contemplating ; or, if they occur 
 at any time, eminence in them is ascribed to persons 
 and productions so contemptible, that it appears their 
 true import was little understood. Persons of the high- 
 est rank, and in the most eminent stations, could not 
 read or write. Many of the clergy did not understand 
 the breviary which they were obliged daily to recite ; 
 some of them could scarcely read it . The memory of 
 past transactions was, in a great degree, lost, or pre- 
 
 Note x.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 17 
 
 served in annals filled with trifling events or legendary 
 tales. Even the codes of laws published by the seve- 
 ral nations which established themselves in the different 
 countries of Europe, fell into disuse, while, in their 
 place, customs vague and capricious were substituted. 
 The human mind, neglected, uncultivated, and de- 
 pressed, continued in the most profound ignorance. 
 Europe, during four centuries, produced few authors 
 who merit to be read, either on account of the elegance 
 of their composition, or the justness and novelty of their 
 sentiments. There are few inventions, useful or orna- 
 mental to society, of which that long period can boast. 
 
 Even the Christian religion, though its precepts are upon reli- 
 delivered, and its institutions are fixed in scripture with gl 
 a precision -which should have exempted them from 
 being misinterpreted or corrupted, degenerated, during 
 those ages of darkness, into an illiberal superstition. 
 The barbarous nations, when converted to Christianity, 
 changed the object, not the spirit, of their religious 
 worship. They endeavoured to conciliate the favour 
 of the true God by means not unlike to those which 
 they had employed in order to appease their false 
 deities. Instead of aspiring to sanctity and virtue, 
 which alone can render men acceptable to the great 
 author of order and of excellence, they imagined that 
 they satisfied every obligation of duty by a scrupulous 
 observance of external ceremonies p . Religion, accord- 
 ing to their conceptions of it, comprehended nothing 
 else; and the rites, by which they persuaded them- 
 selves that they could gain the favour of heaven, were 
 of such a nature as might have been expected from the 
 rude ideas of the ages which devised and introduced 
 them. They were either so unmeaning as to be alto- 
 gether unworthy of the being to whose honour they 
 were consecrated ; or so absurd as to be a disgrace to 
 reason and humanity q . Charlemagne in France, and 
 
 P Note xi. Note xii. 
 
 VOL. >III. C
 
 18 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 Alfred the great in England, endeavoured to dispel 
 this darkness, and gave their subjects a short glimpse 
 of light and knowledge. But the ignorance of the age 
 was too powerful for their efforts and institutions. The 
 darkness returned, and settled over Europe more thick 
 and heavy than before. 
 
 upon the As the inhabitants of Europe, during these centuries, 
 and'vimies were strangers to the arts which embellish a polished 
 of the hu- age, they were destitute of the virtues which abound 
 among people who continue in a simple state. Force 
 of mind, a sense of personal dignity, gallantry in enter- 
 prise, invincible perseverance in execution, contempt of 
 danger and of death, are the characteristic virtues of 
 uncivilized nations. But these are all the offspring of 
 equality and independence, both which the feudal insti- 
 tutions had destroyed. The spirit of domination cor- 
 rupted the nobles ; the yoke of servitude depressed the 
 people ; the generous sentiments inspired by a sense of 
 equality were extinguished, and hardly any thing re- 
 mained to be a check on ferocity and violence. Human 
 society is in its most corrupted state at that period when 
 men have lost their original independence and simplicity 
 of manners, but have not attained that degree of refine- 
 ment which introduces a sense of decorum and of pro- 
 priety in conduct, as a restraint on those passions which 
 lead to heinous crimes. Accordingly, a greater number 
 of those atrocious actions, which fill the mind of man 
 with astonishment and horrour, occur in the history of 
 the centuries under review, than in that of any period 
 of the same extent in the annals of Europe. If we 
 open the history of Gregory of Tours, or of any contem- 
 porary author, we meet with a series of deeds of cruelty, 
 perfidy, and revenge, so wild and enormous, as almost 
 to exceed belief. 
 
 From the But, according to the observation of an elegant and 
 offheehf- profound historian', there is an ultimate point of de- 
 
 1 Hume's History of England, vol. ii. p. 441.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 19 
 
 pression, as well as of exaltation, from which human venth cen- 
 affairs naturally return in a contrary progress, and be- ment^nd" 1 
 yond which they never pass either in their advancement manners be- 
 or decline. When defects, either in the form or in the 
 administration of government, occasion such disorders 
 in society as are excessive and intolerable, it becomes 
 the common interest to discover and to apply such re- 
 medies as will most effectually remove them. Slight 
 inconveniencies may be long overlooked or endured; 
 but when abuses grow to a certain pitch, the society 
 must go to ruin, or must attempt to reform them. The 
 disorders in the feudal system, together with the cor- 
 ruption of taste and manners consequent upon these, 
 which had gone on increasing during a long course of 
 years, seemed to have attained their utmost point of 
 excess towards the close of the eleventh century. From 
 that sera, we may date the return of government and 
 manners in a contrary direction, and can trace a succes- 
 sion of causes and events which contributed, some with 
 a nearer and more conspicuous, others with a more 
 remote and less perceptible influence, to abolish confu- 
 sion and barbarism, and to introduce order, regularity, 
 and refinement. 
 
 In pointing out and explaining these causes and Necessary 
 events, it is not necessary to observe the order of time ^causes* 
 with a chronological accuracy ; it is of more importance and events 
 to keep in view their mutual connexion and depend- tTibuteto 
 
 ence, and to show how the operation of one event, or wa r ds this 
 
 i i improve- 
 
 one cause, prepared the way for another, and aug- me nt. 
 
 mented its influence. We have hitherto been contem- 
 plating the progress of that darkness which spread 
 over Europe, from its first approach to the period of 
 greatest obscuration; a more pleasant exercise begins 
 here, to observe the first dawnings of returning light, 
 to mark the various accessions by which it gradually 
 increased and advanced towards the full splendour of 
 day. 
 
 I. The crusades, or expeditions in order to rescue
 
 20 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 The ten- the Holy Land out of the hands of infidels, seemed to 
 
 cJSi to" be tlie first event that roused Europe from the lethargy 
 introduce a in which it had been long sunk, and that tended to in- 
 government troduce any considerable change in government or in 
 and man- manners. It is natural to the human mind to view 
 more remote those places which have been distinguished by being 
 
 causes of ^g residence of any illustrious personage, or the scene 
 
 these expe- J 
 
 ditions. of any great transaction, with some degree of delight 
 
 and veneration. To this principle must be ascribed 
 the superstitious devotion with which Christians, from 
 the earliest ages of the church, were accustomed to 
 visit that country which the Almighty had selected as 
 the inheritance of his favourite people, and in which 
 the son of God had accomplished the redemption ol 
 mankind. As this distant pilgrimage could not be 
 performed without considerable expense, fatigue, and 
 danger, it appeared the more meritorious, and came to 
 be considered as an expiation for almost every crime. 
 An opinion which spread with rapidity over Europe 
 about the close of the tenth, and beginning of the 
 eleventh century, and which gained universal credit, 
 wonderfully augmented the number of credulous pil- 
 grims, and increased the ardour with which they un- 
 dertook this useless voyage. 
 
 The thousand years mentioned by St. John* were 
 supposed to be accomplished, and the end of the world 
 to be at hand. A general consternation seized man- 
 kind; many relinquished their possessions; and, aband- 
 oning their friends and families, hurried with precipita- 
 tion to the Holy Land, where they imagined that 
 Christ would quickly appear to judge the world*. 
 While Palestine continued subject to the caliphs, they 
 had encouraged the resort of pilgrims to Jerusalem ; 
 and considered this as a beneficial species of com- 
 
 
 Rvel. xx. 2, 3, 4. 
 
 ' Chronic. Will. Godelli ap. Bouquet, Recueil des Historiens de France, 
 torn. x. p. 262. Vita Abbonis, ibid. p. 332. Chronic. S. Pantaleonis ap. 
 Eccard. Corp. Scrip, medii aevi, vol. i. p. 909. Annalista Saxo, ibid. 576.
 
 SECT. r. STATE OF EUROPE. 21 
 
 merce, which brought into their dominions gold and 
 silver, and carried nothing out of them but relics and 
 consecrated trinkets. But the Turks having conquered 
 Syria about the middle of the eleventh century, pil- 
 grims were exposed to outrages of every kind from 
 these fierce barbarians". This change happening pre- 
 cisely at the juncture when the panic terrour, which I 
 have mentioned, rendered pilgrimages most frequent, 
 filled Europe with alarm and indignation. Every per- 
 son who returned from Palestine related the dangers 
 which he had encountered, in visiting the holy city, 
 and described with exaggeration the cruelty and vexa- 
 tions of the Turks. 
 
 When the minds of men were thus prepared, the The imme- 
 
 eal of a fanatical monk, who conceived the idea of d -' ate ? cca ~ 
 
 ' sum of 
 
 leading all the forces of Christendom against the infi- them. 
 dels, and of driving them out of the Holy Land by 
 violence, was sufficient to give a beginning to that wild 
 enterprise. Peter the hermit, for that was the name of 
 this martial apostle, ran from province to province 
 with a crucifix in his hand, exciting princes and peo- 
 ple to this holy war, and, wherever he came, kindled 
 the same enthusiastic ardour for it with which he him- 
 self was animated. The council of Placentia, where 
 upwards of thirty thousand persons were assembled, 
 pronounced the scheme to have been suggested by the 
 immediate inspiration of heaven. In the council of 
 Clermont, still more numerous, as soon as the measure 
 was proposed, all cried out with one voice, " It is the 
 will of God." Persons of all ranks catched the con- 
 tagion ; not only the gallant nobles of that age, with 
 their martial followers, whom we may suppose apt to be 
 allured by the boldness of a romantic enterprise, but 
 men in the more humble and pacific stations of life ; ec- 
 clesiastics of every order, and even women and children, 
 
 Jo. Dan. Schoepflini de sacris Gallonim in Orientem Expeditionibus, 
 p. 4. Argent. 1726. 4 to.
 
 22 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 engaged with emulation in an undertaking which was 
 deemed sacred and meritorious. If we may believe the 
 concurring testimony of contemporary authors, six mil- 
 lions of persons assumed the cross *, which was the 
 badge that distinguished such as devoted themselves to 
 this holy warfare. All Europe, says the princess Anna 
 Comnena, torn up from the foundation, seemed ready 
 to precipitate itself in one united body upon Asia*. 
 Nor did the fumes of this enthusiastic zeal evaporate 
 at once : the frenzy was as lasting as it was extrava- 
 gant. During two centuries, Europe seems to have 
 had no object but to recover, or keep possession of the 
 Holy Land ; and through that period, vast armies con- 
 tinued to march thither z . 
 
 The success The first efforts of valour, animated by enthusiasm, 
 of the cru- were irresistible ; part of the lesser Asia, all Syria and 
 Palestine, were wrested from the infidels ; the banner 
 of the cross was displayed on mount Sion ; Constantino- 
 ple, the capital of the Christian empire in the east, was 
 afterwards seized by a body of those adventurers, who 
 had taken arms against the mahometans ; and an earl 
 of Flanders, and his descendants, kept possession of the 
 imperial throne during half a century. But though the 
 first impression of the crusaders was so unexpected 
 that they made their conquests with great ease, they 
 found infinite difficulty in preserving them. Establish- 
 ments so distant from Europe, surrounded by warlike 
 nations animated with fanatical zeal scarcely inferior to 
 that of the crusaders themselves, were perpetually in 
 A.D. 1291. danger of being overturned. Before the expiration of 
 the thirteenth century, the Christians were driven out 
 of all their Asiatic possessions, in acquiring of which 
 incredible numbers of men had perished, and immense 
 sums of money had been wasted. The only common 
 
 * Fulcherius Carnotensis ap. Bongarsii Gesta Dei per Francos, vol. i. 
 387. edit. Han. 1611. 
 
 y Alexias, lib. x. ap. Byz. Script, vol. xi. p. 224. * Note xiii.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 23 
 
 enterprise in which the European nations ever en- 
 gaged, and which they all undertook with equal ardour, 
 remains a singular monument of human folly. 
 
 But from these expeditions, extravagant as they The bene- 
 were, beneficial consequences followed, which had nei- f cl ^ le r" h 
 ther been foreseen nor expected. In their progress crusades on 
 towards the Holy Land, the followers of the cross m 
 marched through countries better cultivated, and more 
 civilized than their own. Their first rendezvous was 
 commonly in Italy, in which Venice, Genoa, Pisa, and 
 other cities, had begun to apply themselves to com- 
 merce, and had made considerable advances towards 
 wealth as well as refinement. They embarked there, 
 and, landing in Dalmatia, pursued their route by land 
 to Constantinople. Though the military spirit had 
 been long extinct in the eastern empire, and a des- 
 potism of the worst species had annihilated almost every 
 public virtue ; yet Constantinople, having never felt the 
 destructive rage of the barbarous nations, was the 
 greatest, as well as the most beautiful city in Europe, 
 and the only one in which there remained any image of 
 the ancient elegance in manners and arts. The naval 
 power of the eastern empire was considerable. Manu- 
 factures of the most curious fabric were carried on in 
 its dominions. Constantinople was the chief mart in 
 Europe for the commodities of the East Indies. Al- 
 though the Saracens and Turks had torn from the 
 empire many of its richest provinces, and had reduced 
 it within very narrow bounds, yet great wealth flowed 
 into the capital from these various sources, which not 
 only cherished such a taste for magnificence, but kept 
 alive such a relish for the sciences, as appears consi- 
 derable when compared with what was known in other 
 parts of Europe. Even in Asia, the Europeans, who 
 had assumed the cross, found the remains of the know- 
 ledge and arts which the example and encouragement 
 of the calipha had diffused through their empire. Al- 
 though the attention of the historians of the crusades
 
 24 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 was fixed on other objects than the state of society and 
 manners among the nations which they invaded ; al- 
 though most of them had neither taste nor discernment 
 enough to describe these; they relate, however, such 
 signal acts of humanity and generosity in the conduct of 
 Saladin, as well as some other leaders of the maho- 
 metans, as give us a very high idea of their manners. 
 It was not possible for the crusaders to travel through 
 so many countries, and to behold their various customs 
 and institutions, without acquiring information and im- 
 provement. Their views enlarged ; their prejudices 
 wore off; new ideas crowded into their minds ; and 
 they must have been sensible, on many occasions, of 
 the rusticity of their own manners when compared with 
 those of a more polished people. These impressions 
 were not so slight as to be effaced upon their return to 
 their native countries. A close intercourse subsisted 
 between the east and west during two centuries ; new 
 armies were continually marching from Europe to Asia, 
 while former adventurers returned home, and imported 
 many of the customs to which they had been familia- 
 rized by a long residence abroad. Accordingly, we dis- 
 cover, soon after the commencement of the crusades, 
 greater splendour in the courts of princes, greater 
 pomp in public ceremonies, a more refined taste in 
 pleasure and amusements, together with a more roman- 
 tic spirit of enterprise spreading gradually over Europe; 
 and to these wild expeditions, the effect of superstition 
 or folly, we owe the first gleams of light which tended 
 to dispel barbarism and ignorance. 
 
 Their influ- But these beneficial consequences of the crusades 
 state of pro- took place slowly ; their influence upon the state of 
 P* rt y- property, and, consequently, of power, in the different 
 kingdoms of Europe, was more immediate as well as 
 discernible. The nobles who assumed the cross, and 
 bound themselves to march to the Holy Land, soon 
 perceived that great sums were necessary towards de- 
 fraying the expense of such a distant expedition, and
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 25 
 
 enabling them to appear with suitable dignity at the 
 head of their vassals. But the genius of the feudal 
 system was averse to the imposition of extraordinary 
 taxes ; and subjects in that age were unaccustomed to 
 pay them. No expedient remained for levying the 
 sums requisite, but the sale of their possessions. As 
 men were inflamed with romantic expectations of the 
 splendid conquests which they hoped to make in Asia, 
 and possessed with such zeal for recovering the Holy 
 Land, as swallowed up every other passion, they re- 
 linquished their ancient inheritances without any re- 
 luctance, and for prices far below their value, that they 
 might sally forth as adventurers in quest of new settle- 
 ments in unknown countries. The monarchs of the 
 great kingdoms in the west, none of whom had engaged 
 in the first crusade, eagerly seized this opportunity of 
 annexing considerable territories to their crowns at small 
 expense*. Besides this, several great barons, who 
 perished in the holy war, having left no heirs, their 
 fiefs reverted of course to their respective sovereigns ; 
 and by these accessions of property, as well as power, 
 taken from the one scale and thrown into the other, 
 the regal authority rose in proportion as that of the 
 aristocracy declined. The absence, too, of many po- 
 tent vassals, accustomed to control and give law to their 
 sovereigns, afforded them an opportunity of extending 
 their prerogative, and of acquiring a degree of weight 
 in the constitution which they did not formerly possess. 
 To these circumstances we may add, that as all who 
 assumed the cross were taken under the immediate 
 protection of the church, and its heaviest anathemas 
 were denounced against such as should disquiet .or 
 annoy those who had devoted themselves to this ser- 
 vice ; the private quarrels and hostilities which banish- 
 ed tranquillity from a feudal kingdom, were suspended 
 or extinguished ; a more general and steady adminis- 
 
 Wilhclm. Malmsbur. Guibert. Abbas ap. Bongan. vol. i. 481.
 
 26 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 tration of justice began to be introduced, and some ad- 
 vances were made towards the establishment of regular 
 government in the several kingdoms of Europe b . 
 Their com- The commercial effects of the crusades were not less 
 effect* considerable than those which I have already mention- 
 ed. The first armies under the standard of the cross, 
 which Peter the hermit and Godfrey of Bouillon led 
 through Germany and Hungary to Constantinople, 
 suffered so much by the length of the march, as well 
 as by the fierceness of the barbarous people who inha- 
 bited those countries, that it deterred others from 
 taking the same route ; and, rather than encounter so 
 many dangers, they chose to go by sea. Venice, 
 Genoa, and Pisa furnished the transports on which 
 they embarked. The sum which these cities received 
 merely for freight from such numerous armies was im- 
 mense c . This, however, was but a small part of what 
 they gained by the expeditions to the Holy Land ; the 
 crusaders contracted with them for military stores and 
 provisions ; their fleets kept on the coast as the armies 
 advanced by land ; and, supplying them with whatever 
 was wanting, engrossed all the profits of a branch of 
 commerce which in every age has been extremely lucra- 
 tive. The success which attended the arms of the cru- 
 saders was productive of advantages still more perma- 
 nent. There are charters yet extant, containing grants 
 to the Venetians, Pisans, and Genoese, of the most 
 extensive immunities in the several settlements which 
 the Christians made in Asia. All the commodities 
 which they imported or exported are thereby exempted 
 from every imposition ; the property of entire suburbs 
 in some of the maritime towns, and of large streets in 
 others, is vested in them ; and all questions, arising 
 among persons settled within their precincts, or who 
 
 b Du Cange, Glossar. voc. Cruce signatus. Guil. Abbas ap. Bongars. vol. 
 i. 480. 482. See also Note xiv. 
 
 '' Muratori Antiquit. Italic, medii a*vi, vol. ii. 905.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 27 
 
 traded under their protection, are appointed to be tried 
 by their own laws, and by judges of their own appoint- 
 ment* 1 . When the crusaders seized Constantinople, 
 and placed one of their own leaders on the imperial 
 throne, the Italian states were likewise gamers by that 
 event. The Venetians, who had planned the enter- 
 prise, and took a considerable part in carrying it into 
 execution, did not neglect to secure to themselves the 
 chief advantages redounding from its success. They 
 made themselves masters of part of the ancient Pelo- 
 ponnesus in Greece, together with some of the most 
 fertile islands in the Archipelago. Many valuable 
 branches of the commerce, which formerly centred in 
 Constantinople, were transferred to Venice, Genoa, or 
 Pisa. Thus a succession of events, occasioned by the 
 holy w-ar, opened various sources, from which wealth 
 flowed in such abundance into these cities e , as enabled 
 them, in concurrence with another institution, which 
 shall be immediately mentioned, to secure their own 
 liberty and independence. 
 
 II. The institution to which I alluded was the form- The esta- 
 ing of cities into communities, corporations, or bodies ^"0^. 
 politic, and granting them the privilege of municipal nities fa- 
 jurisdiction, which contributed more, perhaps, than government 
 any other cause, to introduce regular government, po- and order. 
 lice, and arts, and to diffuse them over Europe. The 
 feudal government had degenerated into a system of 
 oppression. The usurpations of the nobles were be- 
 come unbounded and intolerable: they had reduced 
 the great body of the people into a state of actual ser- 
 vitude : the condition of those dignified with the name 
 of freemen, was often little preferable to that of the 
 other. Nor was such oppression the portion of those 
 alone who dwelt in the country, and were employed in 
 
 ' Muratori Antiquit. Italic, medii sevi, vol. ii. 906, etc. 
 ' Villehardoum, Hut. de Constant sous les Empereurs Francois, 105, 
 etc.
 
 28 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 The ancient cultivating the estate of their master. Cities and vil- 
 cities. lages found it necessary to hold of some great lord, on 
 whom they might depend for protection, and became 
 no less subject to his arbitrary jurisdiction. The in- 
 habitants were deprived of those rights, which in social 
 life are deemed most natural and unalienable. They 
 could not dispose of the effects which their own in- 
 dustry had acquired, either by a latter will, or by any 
 deed executed during their life f . They had no right 
 to appoint guardians for their children during their 
 minority. They were not permitted to marry without 
 purchasing the consent of the lord on whom they de- 
 pended g . If once they had commenced a lawsuit, 
 they durst not terminate it by an accommodation, be- 
 cause that would have deprived the lord, in whose 
 court they pleaded, of the perquisites due to him on 
 passing sentence 11 . Services of various kinds, no less 
 disgraceful than oppressive, were exacted from them 
 without mercy or moderation. The spirit of industry 
 was checked in some cities by absurd regulations, and 
 in others by unreasonable exactions; nor would the 
 narrow and oppressive maxims of a military aristocracy 
 have permitted it ever to rise to any degree of height 
 or vigour '. 
 
 The free- B ut as soon as the cities of Italy began to turn their 
 dpm of attention towards commerce, and to conceive some idea 
 
 cities first 
 
 established of the advantages which they might derive from it, 
 
 y ' they became impatient to shake off the yoke of their 
 insolent lords, and to establish among themselves such 
 a free and equal government as would render property 
 secure, and industry flourishing. The German em- 
 perors, especially those of the Franconian and Suabian 
 
 1 Dacherii Spiceleg. torn. xi. 374, 375. edit, in 4to. Ordonnances des 
 Hois de France, torn. iii. 204. No. 2. 6. 
 
 f Ordonnances des Hois de France, torn. i. p. 22. torn. iii. 203. No. 1. 
 Murat. Antiquit. Ital. vol. iv. p. 20. Dacher. Spicel. vol. xi. 325. 341. 
 
 h Dacher. Spicel. vol. ix. 182. 
 
 1 M. l'Abb Mably, Observat. sur 1'Hist. de France, torn. ii. p. 2. 96.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 29 
 
 lines, as the seat of their government was far distant 
 from Italy, possessed a feeble and imperfect jurisdic- 
 tion in that country. Their perpetual quarrels, either 
 with the popes or with their own turbulent vassals, di- 
 verted their attention from the interior police of Italy, 
 and gave constant employment to their arms. These 
 circumstances encouraged the inhabitants of some of 
 the Italian cities, towards the beginning of the eleventh 
 century, to assume new privileges, to unite together 
 more closely, and to form themselves into bodies politic 
 under the government of laws established by common 
 consent k . The rights, which many cities acquired by 
 bold or fortunate usurpations, others purchased from 
 the emperors, who deemed themselves gainers when 
 they received large sums for immunities which they 
 were no longer able to withhold ; and some cities ob- 
 tained them gratuitously, from the generosity or facility 
 of the princes on whom they depended. The great 
 increase of wealth, which the crusades brought into 
 Italy, occasioned a new kind of fermentation and ac- 
 tivity in the minds of the people, and excited such a 
 general passion for liberty and independence, that, be- 
 fore the conclusion of the last crusade, all the consider- 
 able cities in that country had either purchased or had 
 extorted large immunities from the emperors l . 
 
 This innovation was not long known in Italy before is intro- 
 it made its way into France. Louis le gros, in order 
 
 to create some power that might counterbalance those iQ t other 
 potent vassals who controlled, or gave law to the crown, O f E uro pe. 
 first adopted the plan of conferring new privileges on A.D.1108 
 the towns situated within its own domain. These pri- 
 vileges were called ' charters of community,' by which 
 he enfranchised the inhabitants, abolished all marks of 
 servitude, and formed them into corporations or bodies 
 politic, to be governed by a council and magistrates of 
 their own nomination. These magistrates had the right 
 
 k Murat. Antiquit. Ital. vol. iv. p. 5. ' Note xv.
 
 30 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 of administering justice within their own precincts, of 
 levying taxes, of embodying and training to arms the 
 militia of the town, which took the field when required 
 by the sovereign, under the command of officers ap- 
 pointed by the community. The great barons imitated 
 the example of their monarch, and granted like immu- 
 nities to the towns within their territories. They had 
 wasted such great sums in their expeditions to the 
 Holy Land, that they were eager to lay hold on this 
 new expedient for raising money, by the sale of those 
 charters of liberty. Though the institution of com- 
 munities was as repugnant to their maxims of policy, 
 as it was adverse to their power, they disregarded re- 
 mote consequences, in order to obtain present relief. 
 In less than two centuries, servitude was abolished in 
 most of the towns in France, and they became free 
 corporations, instead of dependent villages, without ju- 
 risdiction or privileges m . Much about the same period, 
 the great cities in Germany began to acquire like im- 
 munities, and laid the foundation of their present li- 
 berty and independence n . The practice spread quickly 
 over Europe, and was adopted in Spain, England, 
 Scotland, and all the other feudal kingdoms . 
 Its happy The good effects of this new institution were imme- 
 the C con UP n ^iately ^ e ^> an( ^ * ts influence on government as well as 
 dition of manners was no less extensive than salutary. A great 
 bi tants body of the people was released from servitude, and 
 from all the arbitrary and grievous impositions to which 
 that wretched condition had subjected them. Towns, 
 upon acquiring the right of community, became so 
 many little republics, governed by known and equal 
 laws. Liberty was deemed such an essential and cha- 
 racteristic part in their constitution, that if any slave 
 took refuge in one of them, and resided there during 
 a year without being claimed, he was instantly declared 
 
 m Note xvi. " Note xvii. 
 
 Note xviii.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 31 
 
 a freeman, and admitted as a member of the com- 
 munity p . 
 
 As one part of the people owed their liberty to the u P n the 
 erection of communities, another was indebted to them the nobi- 
 for their security. Such had been the state of Europe Ii4 y 
 during several centuries, that self-preservation obliged 
 every man to court the patronage of some powerful 
 baron, and in times of danger his castle was the place 
 to which all resorted for safety. But towns surrounded 
 with walls, whose inhabitants were regularly trained to 
 arms, and bound by interest, as well as by the most 
 solemn engagements, reciprocally to defend each other, 
 afforded a more commodious and secure retreat. The 
 nobles began to be considered as of less importance 
 when they ceased to be the sole guardians to whom 
 the people could look up for protection against vio- 
 lence. 
 
 If the nobility suffered some diminution of their upon the 
 credit and power by the privileges granted to the 
 cities, the crown acquired an increase of both. As 
 there were no regular troops kept on foot in any of 
 the feudal kingdoms, the monarch could bring no army 
 into the field, but what was composed of soldiers fur- 
 nished by the crown vassals, always jealous of the regal 
 authority ; nor had he any funds for carrying on the 
 public service but such as they granted him with a 
 very sparing hand. But when the members of com- 
 munities were permitted to bear arms, and were trained 
 to the use of them, this in some degree supplied the 
 first defect, and gave the crown the command of a 
 body of men independent of its great vassals. The at- 
 tachment of the cities to their sovereigns, whom they 
 respected as the first authors of their liberties, and 
 whom they were obliged to court as the protectors of 
 their immunities against the domineering spirit of the 
 
 v Statut. Humbert! Bellojoci, Dacher. Spicel. vol. ix. 182. 185. Charta 
 Comit. Kerens, ibid. 193.
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. i. 
 
 upon the 
 increase of 
 industry. 
 
 The inha- 
 bitants of 
 cities ac- 
 quire po- 
 litical 
 power, as 
 members 
 of the con- 
 stitution. 
 
 nobles, contributed somewhat towards removing the 
 second evil, as, on many occasions, it procured the 
 crown supplies of money, which added new force to 
 government q . 
 
 The acquisition of liberty made such a happy change 
 in the condition of all the members of communities, as 
 roused them from that inaction into which they had 
 been sunk by the wretchedness of their former state. 
 The spirit of industry revived. Commerce became an 
 object of attention, and began to flourish. Population 
 increased. Independence was established ; and wealth 
 flowed into cities which had long been the seat of po- 
 verty and oppression. Wealth was accompanied by 
 its usual attendants, ostentation and luxury ; and 
 though the former was formal and cumbersome, and 
 the latter inelegant, they led gradually to greater re- 
 finement in manners, and in the habits of life. Toge- 
 ther with this improvement in manners, a more regular 
 species of government and police was introduced. ' As 
 cities grew to be more populous, and the occasions of 
 intercourse among men increased, statutes and regula- 
 tions multiplied of course, and all became sensible that 
 their common safety depended on observing them with 
 exactness, and on punishing such as violated them, 
 with promptitude and rigour. Laws and subordina- 
 tion, as well as polished manners, taking their rise in 
 cities, diffused themselves insensibly through the rest 
 of the society. 
 
 III. The inhabitants of cities having obtained per- 
 sonal freedom and municipal jurisdiction, soon acquired 
 civil liberty and political power. It was a fundamental 
 principle in the feudal system of policy, that no free- 
 man could be subjected to new laws or taxes unless by 
 his own consent. In consequence of this, the vassals 
 of every baron were called to his court, in which they 
 established, by mutual consent, such regulations as they 
 
 Ordon. des Rois de France, torn. i. 602. 785. ; torn. ii. 318. 422.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 33 
 
 deemed most beneficial to their small society, and 
 granted their superior such supplies of money as were 
 proportioned to their abilities or to his wants. The 
 barons themselves, conformably to the same maxim, 
 were admitted into the supreme assembly of the nation, 
 and concurred with the sovereign in enacting laws, 
 or in imposing taxes. As the superior lord, according 
 to the original plan of feudal policy, retained the 
 direct property of those lands which he granted, in 
 temporary possession, to his vassals ; the law, even 
 after fiefs became hereditary, still supposed this origi- 
 nal practice to subsist. The great council of each na- 
 tion, whether distinguished by the name of a parlia- 
 ment, a diet, the cortes, or the states-general, was com- 
 posed entirely of such barons, and dignified ecclesi- 
 astics, as held immediately of the crown. Towns, 
 whether situated within the royal domain or on the 
 lands of a subject, depended originally for protection 
 on the lord of whom they held. They had no legal 
 name, no political existence, which could entitle them 
 to be admitted into the legislative assembly, or could 
 give them any authority there. But as soon as they 
 were enfranchised, and formed into bodies corporate, 
 they became legal and independent members of the 
 constitution, and acquired all the rights essential to 
 freemen. Amongst these, the most valuable was the 
 privilege of a decisive voice in enacting public laws, and 
 granting national subsidies. It was natural for cities 
 accustomed to a form of municipal government accord- 
 ing to which no regulation could be established within 
 the community, and no money could be raised, but by 
 their own consent, to claim this privilege. The wealth, 
 the power and consideration which they acquired on 
 recovering their liberty, added weight to their claim ; 
 and favourable events happened, or fortunate conjunc- 
 tures occurred, in the different kingdoms of Europe, 
 which facilitated their obtaining possession of this im- 
 portant right. In England, one of the first countries 
 
 VOL. Ill, D
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. i. 
 
 in which the representatives of boroughs were admitted 
 into the great council of the nation, the barons who 
 
 A.D. 1265. took arms against Henry the third, summoned them to 
 attend parliament, in order to add greater popularity 
 to their party, and to strengthen the barrier against 
 the encroachment of regal power. In France, Philip 
 the fair, a monarch no less sagacious than enterprising, 
 considered them as instruments which might be em- 
 ployed with equal advantage to extend the royal prero- 
 gative, to counterbalance the exorbitant power of the 
 nobles, and to facilitate the imposition of new taxes. 
 With these views, he introduced the deputies of such 
 towns as were formed into communities, into the states- 
 general of the nation r . In the empire, the wealth and 
 immunities of the imperial cities placed them on a level 
 with the most considerable members of the Germanic 
 body. Conscious of their own power and dignity, they 
 
 A D. 1293. pretended to the privilege of forming a separate bench 
 in the diet ; and made good their pretensions s . 
 
 But in what way soever the representatives of cities 
 first gained a place in the legislature, that event had 
 great influence on the form and genius of government. 
 It tempered the rigour of aristocratical oppression with 
 a proper mixture of popular liberty : it secured to the 
 great body of the people, who had formerly no repre- 
 sentatives, active and powerful guardians of their rights 
 and privileges : it established an intermediate power be- 
 tween the king and the nobles, to which each had re- 
 course alternately, and which at some times opposed 
 the usurpations of the former, on other occasions 
 checked the encroachments of the latter. As soon as 
 the representatives of communities gained any degree 
 of credit and influence in the legislature, the spirit of 
 laws became different from what it had formerly been ; 
 it flowed from new principles ; it was directed towards 
 
 r Pasquier, Recherches de la France, p. 81. edit. Par. 1633. 
 
 Pfeffel, Abr6g6 de 1'Histoire et Droit d'Allemagne, p. 408. 451. 
 
 The happy 
 effects of 
 this upon 
 govern- 
 ment.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 35 
 
 new objects ; equality, order, the public good, and the 
 redress of grievances, were phrases and ideas brought 
 into use, and which grew to be familiar in the statutes 
 and jurisprudence of the European nations. Almost 
 all the efforts in favour of liberty, in every country of 
 Europe, have been made by this new power in the 
 legislature. In proportion as it rose to consideration 
 and influence, the severity of the aristocratical spirit 
 decreased ; and the privileges of the people became 
 gradually more extensive, as the ancient and exorbitant 
 jurisdiction of the nobles was abridged*. 
 
 IV. The inhabitants of towns having been declared The people 
 free by the charters of communities, that part of the 
 
 people which resided in the country, and was employed enfran- 
 in agriculture, began to recover liberty by enfranchise- 
 ment. During the rigour of feudal government, as 
 hath been already observed, the great body of the 
 lower people was reduced to servitude. They were 
 slaves fixed to the soil which they cultivated, and to- 
 gether with it were transferred from one proprietor to 
 another, by sale, or by conveyance. The spirit of 
 feudal policy did not favour the enfranchisement of 
 that order of men. It was an established maxim, that 
 no vassal could legally diminish the value of a fief, to 
 the detriment of the lord from whom he had received 
 it. In consequence of this, manumission by the autho- 
 rity of the immediate master was not valid ; and unless 
 it was confirmed by the superior lord of whom he held, 
 slaves belonging to the fief did not acquire a complete 
 right to their liberty. Thus it became necessary to 
 ascend through all the gradations of feudal holding to 
 the king, the lord paramount u . A form of procedure 
 so tedious and troublesome, discouraged the practice 
 of manumission. Domestic or personal slaves often 
 obtained liberty from the humanity or beneficence of 
 
 1 Note six. 
 
 Etablissemens de St. Louis, liv. ii. chap. 34. Onion, torn. i. 283. 
 not. (a). 
 
 D2
 
 3G A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 their masters, to whom they belonged in absolute pro- 
 perty. The condition of slaves fixed to the soil, was 
 much more unalterable. 
 
 The motives But the freedom and independence which one part 
 and pro- of the people had obtained by the institution of commu- 
 this. nities, inspired the other with the most ardent desire 
 
 of acquiring the same privileges ; and their superiors, 
 sensible of the various advantages which they had de- 
 rived from their former concessions to their depend- 
 ents, were less unwilling to gratify them by the grant 
 A.D. 131ft. of new immunities. The enfranchisement of slaves be- 
 came more frequent; and the monarchs of France, 
 prompted by necessity no less than by their inclination to 
 reduce the power of the nobles, endeavoured to render 
 it general. Louis the tenth, and Philip the long, issued 
 ordinances, declaring, " That as all men were by nature 
 free-born, and as their kingdom was called the kingdom 
 of Franks, they determined that it should be so in 
 reality as well as in name ; therefore they appointed that 
 enfranchisements should be granted throughout the 
 whole kingdom, upon just and reasonable conditions "." 
 These edicts were carried into immediate execution 
 within the royal domain. The example of their sove- 
 reigns, together with the expectation of considerable 
 sums which they might raise by this expedient, led many 
 of the nobles to set their dependents at liberty; and ser- 
 vitude was gradually abolished in almost every province 
 of the kingdom y . In Italy, the establishment of republi- 
 can government in their great cities, the genius and max- 
 ims of which were extremely different from those of the 
 feudal policy, together with the ideas of equality, which 
 the progress of commerce had rendered familiar, gra- 
 dually introduced the practice of enfranchising the an- 
 cient ' predial ' slaves. In some provinces of Germany, 
 the persons who had been subject to this species of 
 bondage were released ; in others, the rigour of their 
 
 " Ordon. torn. i. p. 583. 653. 7 Note xx.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 37 
 
 state was mitigated. In England, as the spirit of 
 liberty gained ground, the very name and idea of per- 
 sonal servitude, without any formal interposition of the 
 legislature to prohibit it, was totally banished. 
 
 The effects of such a remarkable change in the con- The effects 
 dition of so great a part of the people, could not fail of he l -ro_ upon 
 being considerable and extensive. The husbandman, provement 
 master of his own industry, and secure of reaping for 
 himself the fruits of his labour, became the farmer of 
 the same fields where he had formerly been compelled 
 to toil for the benefit of another. The odious names of 
 master and of slave, the most mortifying and depressing 
 of all distinctions to human nature, were abolished. 
 New prospects opened, and new incitements to ingenuity 
 and enterprise presented themselves to those who were 
 emancipated. The expectation of bettering their for- 
 tune, as well as that of raising themselves to a more 
 honourable condition, concurred in calling forth their 
 activity and genius ; and a numerous class of men, who 
 formerly had no political existence, and were employed 
 merely as instruments of labour, became useful citizens, 
 and contributed towards augmenting the force or riches 
 of the society which adopted them as members. 
 
 V. The various expedients which were employed in The intro- 
 order to introduce a more regular, equal, and vigorous ^"mo'^rc- 
 admini-tration of justice, contributed greatly towards gular ad- 
 the improvement of society. What were the particular o7justice' 0n 
 modes of dispensing justice, in their several countries, contributes 
 among the various barbarous nations which overran provement 
 the Roman empire, and took possession of its different 
 provinces, cannot now be determined with certainty. 
 We may conclude, from the form of government esta- 
 blished among them, as well as from their ideas con- 
 cerning the nature of society, that the authority of the 
 magistrate was extremely limited, and the independence 
 of individuals proportionally great. History and re- 
 cords, as far as these reach back, justify this conclusion, 
 and represent the ideas and exercise of justice in all
 
 38 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 the countries of Europe, as little different from those 
 which must take place in the most simple state of civil 
 life. To maintain the order and tranquillity of society 
 by the regular execution of known laws ; to inflict 
 vengeance on crimes destructive of the peace and safety 
 of individuals, by a prosecution carried on in the name 
 and by the authority of the community ; to consider the 
 punishment of criminals as a public example to deter 
 others from violating the laws ; were objects of govern- 
 ment little understood in theory, and less regarded in 
 practice. The magistrate could hardly be said to hold 
 the sword of justice ; it was left in the hands of private 
 persons. Resentment was almost the sole motive for 
 prosecuting crimes ; and to gratify that passion, was 
 considered as the chief end in punishing them. He 
 who suffered the wrong, was the only person who had 
 a right to pursue the aggressor, and to exact or to remit 
 the punishment. From a system of judicial procedure 
 so crude and defective that it seems to be scarcely com- 
 patible with the subsistence of civil society, disorder 
 and anarchy flowed. Superstition concurred with this 
 ignorance concerning the nature of government, in ob- 
 structing the administration of justice, or in rendering 
 it capricious and unequal. To provide remedies for 
 these evils, so as to give a more regular course to justice, 
 was, during several centuries, one great object of poli- 
 tical wisdom. The regulations for this purpose may be 
 reduced to three general heads. To explain these, 
 and to point out the manner in which they operated, is 
 an important article in the history of society among 
 the nations in Europe. 
 
 This effect- 1 . The first considerable step towards establishing 
 abolishing an equal administration of justice, was the abolishment 
 
 the practice o f the right which individuals claimed of waging war 
 
 of private . , 5* . 
 
 war. with each other, in their own name, and by their own 
 
 authority. To repel injuries, and to revenge wrongs, 
 is no less natural to man, than to cultivate friendship ; 
 and while society remains in its most simple state, the
 
 SECT. r. STATE OF EUROPE. 39 
 
 former is considered as a personal right no less un- Original 
 
 alienable than the latter. Nor do men in this situation ldeas ot 
 
 men con- 
 deem that they have a title to redress their own wrongs ceming 
 
 alone ; they are touched with the injuries done to those JUS 
 with whom they are connected, or in whose honour 
 they are interested, and are no less prompt to avenge 
 them. The savage, how imperfectly soever he may 
 comprehend the principles of political union, feels 
 warmly the sentiments of social affection, and the obli- 
 gations arising from the ties of blood. On the appear- 
 ance of an injury or affront offered to his family or 
 tribe, he kindles into rage, and pursues the authors of 
 it with the keenest resentment. He considers it as 
 cowardly to expect redress from any arm but his own, 
 and as infamous to give up to another the right of 
 determining what reparation he should accept, or with 
 what vengeance he should rest satisfied. 
 
 The maxims and practice of all uncivilized nations, These lead 
 with respect to the prosecution and punishment of ^tlce of 
 offenders, particularly those of the ancient Germans, private war. 
 and other barbarians who invaded the Roman empire, 
 are perfectly conformable to these ideas z . While they 
 retained their native simplicity of manners, and con- 
 tinued to be divided into small tribes or societies, the 
 defects in this imperfect system of criminal jurispru- 
 dence, if it merits that name, were less sensibly felt. 
 \V hen they came to settle in the extensive provinces 
 which they had conquered, and to form themselves into 
 great monarchies ; when new objects of ambition pre- 
 senting themselves, increased both the number and 
 the violence of their dissensions, they ought to have 
 adopted new maxims concerning the redress of in- 
 juries, and to have regulated, by general and equal 
 laws, that which they formerly left to be directed by 
 the caprice of private passion. But fierce and haughty 
 chieftains, accustomed to avenge themselves on such 
 
 Tacit, ilf M.-i. German, cap. 21. Veil. Paterr. lib. ii. r. 118.
 
 40 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 as had injured them, did not think of relinquishing a 
 right which they considered as a privilege of their 
 order, and a mark of their independence. Laws en- 
 forced by the authority of princes and magistrates, 
 who possessed little power, commanded no great de- 
 gree of reverence. The administration of justice 
 among rude illiterate people was not so accurate, or 
 decisive, or uniform, as to induce men to submit im- 
 plicitly to its determinations. Every offended baron 
 buckled on his armour, and sought redress at the head 
 of his vassals. His adversary met him in like hostile 
 array. Neither of them appealed to impotent laws, 
 which could afford them no protection. Neither of 
 them would submit points, in which their honour and 
 their passions were warmly interested, to the slow de- 
 termination of a judicial inquiry. Both trusted to their 
 swords for the decision of the contest. The kindred 
 and dependents of the aggressor, as well as of the de- 
 fender, were involved in the quarrel. They had not 
 even the liberty of remaining neutral. Such as refused 
 to act in concert with the party to which they be- 
 longed, were not only exposed to infamy, but sub- 
 jected to legal penalties. 
 
 The different kingdoms of Europe were torn and 
 
 1 he perni- 
 cious effects afflicted, during several centuries, by intestine wars, 
 
 excited by private animosities, and carried on with all 
 the rage natural to men of fierce manners, and of vio- 
 lent passions. The estate of every baron was a kind 
 of independent territory, disjoined from those around 
 it, and the hostilities between them seldom ceased. 
 The evil became so inveterate and deep-rooted, that 
 the form and laws of private war were ascertained, 
 and regulations concerning it made a part in the sys- 
 tem of jurisprudence a , in the same manner as if this 
 practice had been founded in some natural right of 
 
 a Beaumanoir Coustumes de Beauvoisis, ch. 59. et les notes de Thau- 
 massiere, p. 447.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 41 
 
 humanity, or in the original constitution of civil so- 
 ciety. 
 
 So great was the disorder, and such the calamities, Various 
 which these perpetual hostilities occasioned, that va- met ^ (xls 
 
 employed 
 
 nous efforts were made to wrest from the nobles this in order to 
 pernicious privilege. It was the interest of every sove- 
 reign to abolish a practice which almost annihilated 
 his authority. Charlemagne prohibited it by an ex- 
 press law, as an invention of the devil to destroy the 
 order and happiness of society b ; but the reign of one 
 monarch, however vigorous and active, was too short 
 to extirpate a custom so firmly established. Instead 
 of enforcing this prohibition, his feeble successors durst 
 venture on nothing more than to apply palliatives. 
 They declared it unlawful for any person to commence 
 war, until he had sent a formal defiance to the kindred 
 and dependents of his adversary ; they ordained that, 
 after the commission of the trespass or crime which 
 gave rise to a private war, forty days must elapse be- 
 fore the person injured should attack the vassals of his 
 adversary; they enjoined all persons to suspend their 
 private animosities, and to cease from hostilities, when 
 the king was engaged in any war against the enemies 
 of the nation. The church cooperated with the civil 
 magistrate, and interposed its authority in order to ex- 
 tirpate a practice so repugnant to the spirit of Chris- 
 tianity. Various councils issued decrees, prohibiting 
 all private wars; and denounced the heaviest ana- 
 themas against such as should disturb the tranquillity 
 of society, by claiming or exercising that barbarous 
 right. The aid of religion was called in to combat and 
 subdue the ferocity of the times. The Almighty was 
 said to have manifested, by visions and revelations to 
 di He-rent persons, his disapprobation of that spirit of 
 revenge which armed one part of his creatures against 
 the other. Men were required, in the name of God, 
 
 b Capital, a.d. 801. edit. Baluz. vol. i. p. 371.
 
 1:> A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 to sheath their swords, and to remember the sacred ties 
 which united them as Christians, and as members of 
 the same society. But this junction of civil and eccle- 
 siastic authority, though strengthened by every thing 
 most apt to alarm and to overawe the credulous spirit 
 of those ages, produced no other effect than some tem- 
 porary suspensions of hostilities, and a cessation from 
 war on certain days and seasons consecrated to the 
 more solemn acts of devotion. The nobles continued 
 to assert this dangerous privilege; they refused to 
 obey some of the laws calculated to annul or circum- 
 scribe it; they eluded others; they petitioned; they 
 remonstrated ; they struggled for the right of private 
 war, as the highest and most honourable distinction of 
 their order. Even so late as the fourteenth century, 
 we find the nobles, in several provinces of France, con- 
 tending for their ancient method of terminating their 
 differences by the sword, in preference to that of sub- 
 mitting them to the decision of any judge. The final 
 abolition of this practice in that kingdom, and the 
 other countries in which it prevailed, is not to be 
 ascribed so much to the force of statutes and decrees, 
 as to the gradual increase of the royal authority, and 
 to the imperceptible progress of juster sentiments con- 
 cerning government, order, and public security c . 
 The prohi- 2. The prohibition of the form of trial by judicial 
 bitionof combat, was another considerable step towards the in- 
 
 tnal by ju- . 
 
 dlcial com- troduction of such regular government as secured pub- 
 i > m t prove- her lic order aml P rivate tranquillity. As the right of pri- 
 roent in the vate war left many of the quarrels among individuals 
 tion"of 9 ' l to ke decided, like those between nations, by arms, 
 justice. the form of trial by judicial combat, which was esta- 
 blished in every country of Europe, banished equity 
 from courts of justice, and rendered chance or force 
 Defects in the arbiter of their determinations. In civilized na- 
 
 the judicial . ,, . f 
 
 proceedings " ns > a " transactions of any importance are concluded 
 
 c Note xxi.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 43 
 
 in writing. The exhibition of the deed or instrument of the mid- 
 is full evidence of the fact, and ascertains with preci- 
 sion what each party has stipulated to perform. But 
 among a rude people, when the arts of reading and 
 writing were such uncommon attainments, that to be 
 master of either entitled a person to the appellation of 
 a clerk or learned man, scarcely any thing was com- 
 mitted to writing but treaties between princes, their 
 grants and charters to their subjects, or such transac- 
 tions between private parties as were of extraordinary 
 consequence, or had an extensive effect. The greater 
 part of affairs in common life and business was carried 
 on by verbal contracts or promises. This, in many 
 civil questions, not only made it difficult to bring proof 
 sufficient to establish any claim, but encouraged false- 
 hood and fraud, by rendering them extremely easy. 
 Even in criminal cases, where a particular fact must 
 be ascertained, or an accusation must be disproved, 
 the nature and effect of legal evidence were little un- 
 derstood by barbarous nations. To define with accu- 
 racy that species of evidence which a court had reason 
 to expect ; to determine when it ought to insist on po- 
 sitive proof, and when it should be satisfied with a 
 proof from circumstances ; to compare the testimony 
 of discordant witnesses, and to fix the degree of credit 
 due to each ; were discussions too intricate and subtile 
 for the jurisprudence of ignorant ages. In order to 
 avoid encumbering themselves with these, a more sim- 
 ple fonn of procedure was introduced into courts as 
 well civil as criminal. In all cases where the notoriety 
 of the fact did not furnish the clearest and most direct 
 evidence, the person accused, or he against whom an 
 action was brought, was called legally, or offered vo-, 
 luntarily, to purge himself by oath ; and upon his de- 
 claring his innocence, he was instantly acquitted d . 
 
 d Leg. Burgund. tit. 8. et 45. Leg. Aleman. tit. 89. Leg. Baiwar. tit. 
 sect. 5. 2. etc.
 
 44 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 This absurd practice effectually screened guilt and 
 fraud from detection and punishment, by rendering the 
 temptation to perjury so powerful, that it was not easy 
 to resist it. The pernicious effects of it were sensibly 
 felt ; and in order to guard against them, the laws or- 
 dained, that oaths should be administered with great 
 solemnity, and accompanied with every circumstance 
 which could inspire religious reverence, or supersti- 
 tious terrour e . This, however, proved a feeble remedy : 
 these ceremonious rites became familiar, and their im- 
 pression on the imagination gradually diminished ; men 
 who could venture to disregard truth, were not apt to 
 startle at the solemnities of an oath. Their observa- 
 tion of this, put legislators upon devising a new expe- 
 dient for rendering the purgation by oath more certain 
 and satisfactory. They required the person accused 
 to appear with a certain number of freemen, his neigh- 
 bours or relations, who corroborated the oath which 
 he took, by swearing that they believed all that he had 
 uttered to be true. These were called ' compurgators,' 
 and their number varied according to the importance 
 of the subject in dispute, or the nature of the crime 
 with which a person was charged f . In some cases, 
 the concurrence of no less than three hundred of these 
 auxiliary witnesses was requisite to acquit the person 
 accused g . But even this device was found to be inef- 
 fectual. It was a point of honour with every man in 
 Europe, during several ages, not to desert the chief 
 on whom he depended, and to stand by those with 
 whom the ties of blood connected him. Whoever then 
 was bold enough to violate the laws, was sure of de- 
 voted adherents, willing to abet and eager to serve him 
 in whatever manner he required. The formality of 
 calling ' compurgators' proved an apparent, not a real, 
 
 *' Du Cange, Glossar. voc. juramentutn, vol. iii. p. 1607. edit. Benedict. 
 
 f Du Cange, ibid. vol. iii. p. 1599. 
 
 s Spelman, Glossar. voc. assath. Gregor. Turon. Hist. lib. viii. c. 9.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 45 
 
 security against falsehood and perjury ; and the sen- 
 tences of courts, while they continued to refer every 
 point in question to the oath of the defendant, became 
 so flagrantly iniquitous as to excite universal indigna- 
 tion against this method of procedure h . 
 
 Sensible of these defects, but strangers to the man- These in- 
 ner of correcting them, or of introducing a more |{, e practice 
 proper form, our ancestors, as an infallible method of pf appeal- 
 discovering truth, and of guarding against deception, heaven; 
 appealed to heaven, and referred every point in dispute 
 to be determined, as they imagined, by the decisions of 
 unerring wisdom and impartial justice. The person 
 accused, in order to prove his innocence, submitted to 
 trial, in certain cases, either by plunging his arm in 
 boiling water ; or by lifting a red-hot iron with his 
 naked hand ; or by walking barefoot over burning 
 ploughshares; or by other experiments equally peril- 
 ous and formidable. On other occasions, he challenged particularly 
 his accuser to fight him in single combat. All these combat' 
 various forms of trial were conducted with many devout 
 ceremonies ; the ministers of religion were employed, 
 the Almighty was called upon to interpose for the mani- 
 festation of guilt, and for the protection of innocence ; 
 and whoever escaped unhurt, or came off victorious, 
 was pronounced to be acquitted by the 'judgment of 
 God'.' 
 
 Among all the whimsical and absurd institutions The jntro- 
 which owe their existence to the weakness of human t ^ p r _ 
 reason, this, which submitted questions that affected li ^ e favour- 
 
 _ ed by the 
 
 the property, the reputation, and the lives 01 men, to superstition 
 the determination of chance, or of bodily strength and | the mid ~ 
 address, appears to be the most extravagant and pre- 
 posterous. There were circumstances, however, which 
 led the nations of Europe to consider this equivocal 
 mode of deciding any point in contest, as a direct 
 
 h Leg. Langobard. lib. ii. tit. 55. sect. 34. 
 
 1 Murat. Dissertatio de Judiciis Dei, Antiquit. Ital. vol. iii. p. 612.
 
 46 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 appeal to heaven, and a certain method of discovering 
 its will. As men are unable to comprehend the man- 
 ner in which the Almighty carries on the government 
 of the universe, by equal, fixed, and general laws, they 
 are apt to imagine, that in every case which their pas- 
 sions or interest render important in their own eyes, 
 the supreme ruler of all ought visibly to display his 
 power in vindicating innocence and punishing guilt. It 
 requires no inconsiderable degree of science and philo- 
 sophy to correct this popular errour. But the senti- 
 ments prevalent in Europe during the dark ages, 
 instead of correcting, strengthened it. Religion, for 
 several centuries, consisted chiefly in believing the 
 legendary history of those saints whose names crowd 
 and disgrace the Romish calendar. The fabulous tales 
 concerning their miracles had been declared authentic 
 
 O 
 
 by the bulls of popes, and the decrees of councils ; 
 they made the great subject of the instructions which 
 the clergy offered to the people, and were received by 
 them with implicit credulity and admiration. By at- 
 tending to these, men were accustomed to believe that 
 the established laws of nature might be violated on the 
 most frivolous occasions, and were taught to look 
 rather for particular and extraordinary acts of power 
 under the divine administration, than to contemplate 
 the regular progress and execution of a general plan. 
 One superstition prepared the way for another ; and 
 whoever believed that the supreme being had inter- 
 posed miraculously on those trivial occasions mentioned 
 in legends, could not but expect his intervention in 
 matters of greater importance, when solemnly referred 
 to his decision. 
 
 and like- With this superstitious opinion, the martial spirit of 
 th'efrmar- Europe, during the middle ages, concurred in esta- 
 tial spirit, blishing the mode of trial by judicial combat. To be 
 ready to maintain with his sword whatever his lips had 
 uttered, was the first maxim of honour with every gen- 
 tleman. To assert their own rights by force of arms,
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 47 
 
 to inflict vengeance on those who had injured or af- 
 fronted them, were the distinction and pride of high- 
 spirited nobles. The form of trial by combat coincid- 
 ing with this maxim, flattered and gratified these 
 passions. Every man was the guardian of his own 
 honour, and of his own life ; the justice of his cause, as 
 well as his future reputation, depended on his own 
 courage and prowess. This mode of decision was con- 
 sidered, accordingly, as one of the happiest efforts of 
 wise policy ; and as soon as it was introduced, all the 
 forms of trial by fire or water, and other superstitious 
 experiments, fell jnto disuse, or were employed only in 
 controversies between persons of inferior rank. As it 
 was the privilege of a gentleman to claim the trial by 
 combat, it was quickly authorized over all Europe, and 
 received in every country with equal satisfaction. Not 
 only questions concerning uncertain or contested facts, 
 but general and abstract points in law, were determined 
 by the issue of a combat ; and the latter was deemed a 
 method of discovering truth more liberal, as well as more 
 satisfactory, than that by investigation and argument. 
 Not only might parties, whose minds were exasperated 
 by the eagerness and the hostility of opposition, defy 
 their antagonist, and require him to make good his 
 charge, or to prove his innocence, with his sword ; but 
 witnesses, who had no interest in the issue of the ques- 
 tion, though called to declare the truth by laws which 
 ought to have afforded them protection, were equally 
 exposed to the danger of a challenge, and equally 
 bound to assert the veracity of their evidence by dint 
 of arms. To complete the absurdities of this military 
 jurisprudence, even the character of a judge was not 
 sacred from its violence. Any one of the parties might 
 interrupt a judge when about to deliver his opinion ; 
 might accuse him of iniquity and corruption in the 
 most reproachful terms, and, throwing down his gaunt- 
 let, might challenge him to defend his integrity in the 
 field ; nor could he, without infamy, refuse to accept
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. i. 
 
 It becomes 
 universal. 
 
 The perni- 
 cious ef- 
 fects of it. 
 
 the defiance, or decline to enter the lists against such 
 an adversary. 
 
 Thus the form of trial by combat, like other abuses, 
 spread gradually, and extended to all persons, and 
 almost to all cases. Ecclesiastics, women, minors, 
 superannuated and infirm persons, who could not with 
 decency or justice be compelled to take arms, or to 
 maintain their own cause, were obliged to produce 
 champions, who offered from affection, or were en- 
 gaged by rewards, to fight their battles. The solem- 
 nities of a judicial combat were such as were natural in 
 an action, which was considered both as a formal ap- 
 peal to God, and as the final decision of questions of 
 the highest moment. Every circumstance relating to 
 them was regulated by the edicts of princes, and ex- 
 plained in the comments of lawyers, with a minute and 
 even superstitious accuracy. Skill in these laws and 
 rights was frequently the only science of which warlike 
 nobles boasted, or which they were ambitious to at- 
 tain 11 . 
 
 By this barbarous custom, the natural course of pro- 
 ceeding, both in civil and criminal questions, was en- 
 tirely perverted. Force usurped the place of equity 
 in courts of judicature, and justice was banished from 
 her proper mansion. Discernment, learning, integrity, 
 were qualities le.-s necessary to a judge, than bodily 
 strength and dexterity in the use of arms. Daring 
 courage, and superior vigour or address, were of more 
 moment towards securing the favourable issue of a suit, 
 than the equity of a cause, or the clearness of the evi- 
 dence. Men, of course, applied themselves to cultivate 
 the talents which they found to be of greatest utility. 
 As strength of body and address in arms were no less 
 requisite in those lists which they were obliged to enter 
 
 k See a curious discourse concerning the laws of judicial combat, by 
 Thomas of Woodstock, duke of Gloucester, uncle to Richard the second, in 
 Spelman's Glossar. voc. campus.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 49 
 
 in defence of their private rights, than in the field of 
 battle, where they met the enemies of their country, it 
 became the great object of education, as well as the 
 chief employment of life, to acquire these martial ac- 
 complishments. The administration of justice, instead 
 of accustoming men to listen to the voice of equity, or 
 to reverence the decisions of law, added to the ferocity 
 of their manners, and taught them to consider force as 
 the great arbiter of right and wrong. 
 
 These pernicious effects of the trial by combat were Various 
 so obvious, that they did not altogether escape the " r 
 view of the unobserving age in which it was introduced. in s tj ? is 
 The clergy, from the beginning, remonstrated against pr 
 it as repugnant to the spirit of Christianity, and subver- 
 sive of justice and order l . But the maxims and pas- 
 sions which favoured it, had taken such hold of the 
 minds of men, that they disregarded admonitions and 
 censures, which, on other occasions, would have struck 
 them with terrour. The evil was too great and inve- 
 terate to yield to that remedy, and continuing to in- 
 crease, the civil power at length found it necessary to 
 interpose. Conscious, however, of their own limited 
 authority, monarchs proceeded with caution, and their 
 first attempts to restrain, or to set any bounds to this 
 practice were extremely feeble. One of the earliest 
 restrictions of this practice which occurs in the history 
 of Europe, is that of Henry the first of England. It 
 extended no farther than to prohibit the trial by com- 
 bat in questions concerning property of small value m . 
 Louis the seventh of France imitated his example, and 
 issued an edict to the same effect n . St. Louis, whose 
 ideas as a legislator were far superior to those of his 
 age, endeavoured to introduce a more perfect jurispru- 
 dence, and to substitute the trial by evidence, in place 
 
 1 Du Cange, Glossar. voc. duellum, vol. ii. p. 1675. 
 " Brunei, Usage des Fiefs, vol. ii. p. 96'2. 
 Ordon. torn. i. p. 16. 
 VOL. III.
 
 50 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 of that by combat. But his regulations, with respect 
 to this, were confined to his own domains ; for the 
 great vassals of the crown possessed such independent 
 authority, and were so fondly attached to the ancient 
 practice, that he had not power to venture to extend 
 it to the whole kingdom. Some barons voluntarily 
 adopted his regulations. The spirit of courts of justice 
 became averse to the mode of decision by combat, and 
 discouraged it on every occasion. The nobles, never- 
 theless, thought it so honourable to depend for the 
 security of their lives and fortunes on their own courage 
 alone, and contended with so much vehemence for the 
 preservation of this favourite privilege of their order, 
 that the successors of St. Louis, unable to oppose, and 
 afraid of offending such powerful subjects, were obliged 
 not only to tolerate but to authorize the practice which 
 he had attempted to abolish . In other countries of 
 Europe, efforts equally zealous were employed to main- 
 tain the established custom ; and similar concessions 
 were extorted from their respective sovereigns. It 
 continued, however, to be an object of policy with 
 every monarch of abilities or vigour, to explode the 
 trial by combat; and various edicts were issued for 
 this purpose. But the observation which was made 
 concerning the right of private war, is equally applica- 
 ble to the mode of trial under review. No custom, 
 how absurd soever it may be, if it has subsisted long, 
 or derives its source from the manners and prejudices 
 of the age in which it prevails, was ever abolished by 
 the bare promulgation of laws and statutes. The sen- 
 timents of the people must change, or some new power, 
 sufficient to counteract the prevalent custom, must be 
 introduced. Such a change accordingly took place in 
 Europe, as science gradually increased, and society ad- 
 vanced towards more perfect order. In proportion as 
 the prerogative of princes extended, and came to 
 
 Ordon. torn. i. p. 328. 390. 435.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 51 
 
 acquire new force, a power, interested in suppressing 
 every practice favourable to the independence of the 
 nobles, was introduced. The struggle, nevertheless, 
 subsisted for several centuries ; sometimes the new re- 
 gulations and ideas seemed to gain ground ; sometimes 
 ancient habits recurred : and though, upon the whole, 
 the trial by combat went more and more into disuse, 
 yet instances of it occur, as late as the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, in the history both of France and of England. s ln 
 proportion as it declined, the regular administration of 
 justice was restored, the proceedings of courts were 
 directed by known laws, the study of these became an 
 object of attention to judges, and the people of Europe 
 advanced fast towards civility, when this great cause of 
 the ferocity of their manners was removed p . 
 
 3. By authorizing the right of appeal from the courts The privi- 
 of the baron to those of the king, and subjecting the j 
 
 decisions of the former to the review of the latter, a from tne 
 new step, not less considerable than those which I t h e barons, 
 have already mentioned, was taken towards establish- anothe . r 
 
 ... great im- 
 
 ing the regular, consistent, and vigorous administration provement 
 
 of justice. Among all the encroachments of the feudal 
 nobles on the prerogative of their monarch s, their tion of 
 usurping the administration of justice with supreme JUs 
 authority, both in civil and criminal causes, within the 
 precincts of their own estates, was the most singular. 
 In other nations, subjects have contended with their 
 sovereigns, and have endeavoured to extend their own 
 power and privileges ; but in the history of their strug- 
 gles and pretensions we discover nothing similar to this 
 right which the feudal barons claimed, and obtained. 
 It must have been something peculiar in their genius Origin of 
 and manners that suggested this idea, and prompted 
 them to insist on such a claim. Among the rude peo- pendent 
 pie who conquered the various provinces of the Roman o'f'the'no 
 empire, and established new kingdoms there, the pas- blllt y- 
 
 P Note xxii.
 
 52 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 sion of resentment, too impetuous to bear control, 
 was permitted to remain almost unrestrained by the 
 authority of laws. The person offended, as has been 
 observed, retained not only the right of prosecuting 
 but of punishing his adversary. To him it belonged 
 to inflict such vengeance as satiated his rage, or to ac- 
 cept of such satisfaction as appeased it. But while 
 fierce barbarians continued to be the sole judges in 
 their own cause, their enmities were implacable and 
 immortal ; they set no bounds either to the degree of 
 their vengeance, or to the duration of their resentment. 
 The excesses which this occasioned, proved so destruc- 
 tive of peace and order in society, as to render it ne- 
 cessary to devise some remedy. At first, recourse was 
 had to arbitrators, who, by persuasion or entreaty, pre- 
 vailed on the party offended to accept of a fine or 
 composition from the aggressor, and to drop all farther 
 prosecution. But as submission to persons who had 
 no legal or magisterial authority was altogether volun- 
 tary, it became necessary to establish judges, with 
 power sufficient to enforce their own decisions. The 
 leader whom they were accustomed to follow and to 
 obey, whose courage they respected, and in whose in- 
 tegrity they placed confidence, was the person to whom 
 a martial people naturally committed this important 
 prerogative. Every chieftain was the commander of 
 his' tribe in war, and their judge in peace. Every 
 baron led his vassals to the field, and administered 
 justice to them in his hall. The high-spirited depend- 
 ents would not have recognised any other authority, or 
 have submitted to any other jurisdiction. But in times 
 of turbulence and violence, the exercise of this new 
 function was attended not only with trouble, but with 
 danger. No person could assume the character of a 
 judge, if he did not possess power sufficient to protect 
 the one party from the violence of private revenge, and 
 to compel the other to accept of such reparation as he 
 enjoined. In consideration of the extraordinary efforts
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 53 
 
 which this office required, judges, besides the fine 
 which they appointed to be paid as a compensation to 
 the person or family who had been injured, levied an 
 additional sum as a recompense for their own labour ; 
 and in all the feudal kingdoms the latter .was not only 
 as precisely ascertained, but as regularly exacted, as 
 the former. 
 
 Thus, by the natural operation of circumstances pe- The extent 
 culiar to the manners or political state of the feudal effects of 
 nations, separate and territorial jurisdictions came not this P- 
 only to be established in every kingdom, but were esta- 
 blished in such a way, that the interest of the barons 
 concurred with their ambition in maintaining and ex- 
 tending them. It was not merely a point of honour 
 with the feudal nobles to dispense justice to their vas- 
 sals; but from the exercise of that power arose one 
 capital branch of their revenue ; and the emoluments 
 of their courts were frequently the main support of 
 their dignity. It was with infinite zeal that they as- 
 serted and defended this high privilege of their order. 
 By this institution, however, every kingdom in Europe 
 was split into as many separate principalities as it con- 
 tained powerful barons. Their vassals, whether in 
 peace or in war, were hardly sensible of any authority, 
 but that of their immediate superior lord. They felt 
 themselves subject to no other command. They were 
 amenable to no other jurisdiction. The ties which 
 linked together these smaller confederacies became 
 close and firm ; the bonds of public union relaxed, or 
 were dissolved. The nobles strained their invention 
 in devising regulations which tended to ascertain and 
 perpetuate this distinction. In order to guard against 
 any appearance of subordination in their courts to 
 those of the crown, they frequently constrained their 
 monarchs to prohibit the royal judges from entering 
 their territories, or from claiming any jurisdiction there; 
 and if, either through mistake, or from the spirit of 
 encroachment, any royal judge ventured to extend his
 
 54 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 authority to the vassals of a baron, they might plead 
 their right of exemption, and the lord of whom they 
 held could not only rescue them out of his hands, but 
 was entitled to legal reparation for the injury and af- 
 front offered to him. The jurisdiction of the royal 
 judges scarcely reached beyond the narrow limits of 
 the king's demesnes. Instead of a regular gradation 
 of courts, all acknowledging the authority of the same 
 general laws, and looking up to these as the guides of 
 their decisions, there were in every feudal kingdom a 
 number of independent tribunals, the proceedings of 
 which were directed by local customs and contradictory 
 forms. The collision of jurisdiction among these dif- 
 ferent courts often retarded the execution of justice: 
 the variety and caprice of their modes of procedure 
 must have for ever kept the administration of it from 
 attaining any degree of uniformity or perfection. 
 Expedients All the monarchs of Europe perceived these en~ 
 inTrderto croachments on their jurisdiction, and bore them with 
 limit or impatience. But the usurpations of the nobles were 
 so firmly established, and the danger of endeavouring 
 to overturn them by open force was so manifest, that 
 kings were obliged to remain satisfied with attempts to 
 undermine them. Various expedients were employed 
 for this purpose ; each of which merits attention, as 
 they mark the progress of law and equity in the several 
 kingdoms of Europe. At first, princes endeavoured to 
 circumscribe the jurisdiction of the barons, by con- 
 tending that they ought to take cognizance only of 
 smaller offences, reserving those of greater moment, 
 under the appellation of ' pleas of the crown,' and 
 ' royal causes,' to be tried in the king's courts. This, 
 however, affected only the barons of inferior note ; the 
 more powerful nobles scorned such a distinction, and 
 not only claimed unlimited jurisdiction, but obliged 
 their sovereigns to grant them charters, conveying or 
 recognising this privilege in the most ample form. 
 The attempt, nevertheless, was productive of some
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. >,> 
 
 good consequences, and paved the way for more. It 
 turned the attention of men towards a jurisdiction dis- 
 tinct from that of the baron whose vassals they were ; 
 it accustomed them to the pretensions of superiority, 
 which the crown claimed over territorial judges; and 
 taught them, when oppressed by their own superior 
 lord, to look up to their sovereign as their protector. 
 This facilitated the introduction of appeals, by which 
 princes brought the decisions of the barons' courts 
 under the review of the royal judges. While trial by 
 combat subsisted in full vigour, no point decided ac- 
 cording to that mode could be brought under the re- 
 view of another court. It had been referred to the 
 judgment of God ; the issue of battle had declared his 
 will ; and it would have been impious to have called in 
 question the equity of the divine decision. But as soon 
 as that barbarous custom began to fall into disuse, 
 princes encouraged the vassals of the barons to sue for 
 redress, by appealing to the royal courts. The pro- 
 gress of this practice, however, was slow and gradual. 
 The first instances of appeals were on account of ' the 
 delay' or ' the refusal of justice' in the baron's court ; 
 and as these were countenanced by the ideas of sub- 
 ordination in the feudal constitution, the nobles al- 
 lowed them to be introduced without much opposition. 
 But when these were followed by appeals on account 
 of ' the justice' or * iniquity of the sentence,' the nobles 
 then began to be sensible, that, if this innovation be- 
 came general, the shadow of power alone would re- 
 main in their hands, and all real authority and juris- 
 diction would centre in those courts which possessed 
 the right of review. They instantly took the alarm, 
 remonstrated against the encroachment, and contended 
 boldly for their ancient privileges. But the monarch s 
 in the different kingdoms of Europe pursued their 
 plan with steadiness and prudence. Though forced 
 to suspend their operations, on some occasions, and 
 seemingly to yield when any formidable confederacy of
 
 5G 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. i. 
 
 The regu- 
 lations of 
 the canon 
 law pro- 
 mote a 
 more per- 
 fect admi- 
 nistration. 
 
 their vassals united against them, they resumed their 
 measures, as soon as they observed the nobles to be 
 remiss or feeble, and pushed them with vigour. They 
 appointed the royal courts, which originally were am- 
 bulatory, and irregular with respect to their times of 
 meeting, to be held in a fixed place, and at stated sea- 
 sons. They were solicitous to name judges of more 
 distinguished abilities than such as usually presided in 
 the courts of the barons. They added dignity to their 
 character, and splendour to their assemblies. They 
 laboured to render their forms regular, and their de- 
 crees consistent. Such judicatories became, of course, 
 the objects of public confidence as well as veneration. 
 The people, relinquishing the tribunals of their lords, 
 were eager to bring every subject of contest under the 
 more equal and discerning eye of those whom their 
 sovereign had chosen to give judgment in his name. 
 Thus kings became once more the heads of the com- 
 munity, and the dispensers of justice to their subjects. 
 The barons, in some kingdoms, ceased to exercise the 
 right of jurisdiction, because it sunk into contempt; in 
 others, it was circumscribed by such regulations as 
 rendered it innocent, or it was entirely abolished by 
 express statutes. Thus the administration of justice, 
 taking its rise from one source, and following one di- 
 rection, held its course, in every state, with more uni- 
 formity, and with greater force q . 
 
 VI. The forms and maxims of the canon law, which 
 were become universally respectable, from their au- 
 thority in the spiritual courts, contributed not a little 
 towards those improvements in jurisprudence which I 
 have enumerated. If we consider the canon law po- 
 litically, and view it either as a system framed on pur- 
 pose to assist the clergy in usurping powers and juris- 
 diction no less repugnant to the nature of their function, 
 than inconsistent with the order of government ; or, as 
 
 Note xxiii.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 57 
 
 the chief instrument in establishing the dominion of the 
 popes, which shook the throne, and endangered the 
 liberties of every kingdom in Europe, we must pro- 
 nounce it one of the most formidable engines ever 
 formed against the happiness of civil society. But if 
 we contemplate it merely as a code of laws respecting 
 the rights and property of individuals, and attend only 
 to the civil effects of its decisions concerning these, it 
 will appear in a different, and a much more favourable 
 light. In ages of ignorance and credulity, the ministers The pro- 
 of religion are the objects of superstitious veneration, ecclesiasti- 
 
 When the barbarians who overran the Roman empire usurpa- 
 tion. 
 first embraced the Christian faith, they found the clergy 
 
 in possession of considerable power ; and they naturally 
 transferred to those new guides the profound submis- 
 sion and reverence which they were accustomed to 
 yield to the priests of that religion which they had for- 
 saken. They deemed their persons to be equally sa- 
 cred with their function; and would have considered 
 it as impious to subject them to the profane jurisdiction 
 of the laity. The clergy were not blind to these ad- 
 vantages which the weakness of mankind afforded 
 them. They established courts, in which every ques- 
 tion relating to their own character, their function, or 
 their property, was tried. They pleaded, and obtained 
 an almost total exemption from the authority of civil 
 judges. Upon different pretexts, and by a multiplicity 
 of artifices, they communicated this privilege to so 
 many persons, and extended their jurisdiction to such 
 a variety of cases, that the greater part of those affairs 
 which gave rise to contest and litigation, was drawn 
 under the cognizance of the spiritual courts. 
 
 But, in order to dispose the laity to suffer these The p'an of 
 
 .., . . . ecclesiasti- 
 
 usurpations without murmur or opposition, it was ne- ct j j ur j s - 
 cessary to convince them, that the administration ofP 1 " 1 " 161106 
 justice would be rendered more perfect by the esta- feet than 
 blishment of this new jurisdiction. This was not a [{jg^"^ 
 difficult undertaking at that period, when ecclesiastics courts.
 
 58 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 carried on their encroachments with the greatest suc- 
 cess. That scanty portion of science which served to 
 guide men in the ages of darkness, was almost entirely 
 engrossed by the clergy. They alone were accustomed 
 to read, to inquire, and to reason. Whatever know- 
 ledge of ancient jurisprudence had been preserved, 
 either by tradition, or in such books as had escaped 
 the destructive rage of barbarians, was possessed by 
 them. Upon the maxims of that excellent system, they 
 founded a code of laws consonant to the great princi- 
 ples of equity. Being directed by fixed and known 
 rules, the forms of their courts were ascertained, and 
 their decisions became uniform and consistent. Nor 
 did they want authority sufficient to enforce their sen- 
 tences. Excommunication, and other ecclesiastical cen- 
 sures, were punishments more formidable than any that 
 civil judges could inflict in support of their decrees. 
 The good It is not surprising, then, that ecclesiastical jurispru* 
 imitating dence should become such an object of admiration and 
 and adopt- respect, that exemption from civil jurisdiction was 
 courted as a privilege, and conferred as a reward. It 
 is not surprising, that, even to a rude people, the max- 
 ims of the canon law should appear more equal and 
 just than those of the ill-digested jurisprudence which 
 directed all proceedings in civil courts. According to 
 the latter, the differences between contending barons 
 were terminated, as in a state- of nature, by the sword ; 
 according to the former, every matter was subjected to 
 the decision of laws. The one, by permitting judicial 
 combats, left chance and force to be arbiters of right or 
 wrong, of truth or falsehood ; the other passed judg- 
 ment with respect to these by the maxims of equity, 
 and the testimony of witnesses. Any errour or iniquity 
 in a sentence pronounced by a baron to whom feudal 
 jurisdiction belonged, was irremediable, because origi- 
 nally it was subject to the review of no superior tribu- 
 nal ; the ecclesiastical law established a regular grada- 
 tion of courts, through all which a cause might be
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 59 
 
 carried by appeal, until it was determined by that 
 authority which was held to be supreme in the church. 
 Thus the genius and principles of the canon law pre- 
 pared men for approving those three great alterations in 
 the feudal jurisprudence which I have mentioned. But 
 it was not with respect to these points alone that the 
 canon law suggested improvement beneficial to society. 
 Many of the regulations, now deemed the barriers of 
 personal security, or the safeguards of private property, 
 are contrary to the spirit, and repugnant to the maxims 
 of the civil jurisprudence known in Europe during se- 
 veral centuries, and were borrowed from the rules and 
 practice of the ecclesiastical courts. By observing the 
 wisdom and equity of the decisions in these courts, men 
 began to perceive the necessity either of deserting the 
 martial tribunals of the barons, or of attempting to re- 
 form them r . 
 
 VII. The revival of the knowledge and study of the The revival 
 Roman law cooperated with the causes which I have man law" 
 mentioned, in introducing more just and liberal ideas contributes 
 concerning the nature of government, and the admini- more liberal 
 
 stration of justice. Among the calamities which the idea ? con ' 
 
 cernmg jus- 
 devastations of the barbarians who broke in upon the tice and 
 
 empire brought upon mankind, one of the greatest was order - 
 
 their overturning the system of Roman jurisprudence, 
 
 the noblest monument of the wisdom of that great peo- 
 
 ple, formed to subdue and to govern the world. The Thecircum- 
 
 laws and regulations of a civilized community were re- fromwhich 
 
 pugnant to the manners and ideas of these fierce in- tlle 
 vaders. They had respect to objects of which a rude oblivion. 
 people had no conception ; and were adapted to a state 
 of society with which they were entirely unacquainted. 
 For this reason, wherever they settled, the Roman 
 jurisprudence soon sunk into oblivion, and lay buried 
 for some centuries under the load of those institutions 
 which the inhabitants of Europe dignified with the 
 
 ' Note xxiv.
 
 60 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 name of laws. But towards the middle of the twelfth 
 century, a copy of Justinian's pandects was accidentally 
 discovered in Italy. By that time, the state of society 
 was so far advanced, and the ideas of men so much 
 enlarged and improved by the occurrences of several 
 centuries, during which they had continued in politi- 
 cal union, that they were struck with admiration of a 
 system which their ancestors could not comprehend. 
 Circum- Though they had not hitherto attained such a degree 
 which fa- of refinement, as to acquire from the ancients a relish 
 
 voured the for true philosophy or speculative science ; though they 
 revival of it. . . ., , , .v i 
 
 were still insensible, in a great degree, to the beauty 
 
 and elegance of classical composition ; they were suffi- 
 ciently qualified to judge with respect to the merit of 
 their system of laws, in which all the points most inter- 
 esting to mankind were settled with discernment, preci- 
 sion, and equity. All men of letters studied this new 
 science with eagerness ; and within a few years after 
 the discovery of the pandects, professors of civil law 
 were appointed, who taught it publicly in most coun- 
 tries of Europe. 
 
 The effects The effects of having such an excellent model to 
 the kieasfof stua< y and to imitate were immediately perceived. Men, 
 men and as soon as they were acquainted with fixed and general 
 satioiTof Q laws, perceived the advantage of them, and became im- 
 justice. patient to ascertain the principles and forms by which 
 judges should regulate their decisions. Such was the 
 ardour with which they carried on an undertaking of 
 so great importance to society, that before the close of 
 the twelfth century the feudal law was reduced into a 
 regular system ; the code of canon law was enlarged 
 and methodised ; and the loose uncertain customs of 
 different provinces or kingdoms were collected and ar- 
 ranged with an order and accuracy acquired from the 
 knowledge of Roman jurisprudence. In some countries 
 of Europe the Roman law was adopted as subsidiary 
 to their own municipal law ; and all cases to which the 
 latter did not extend, were decided according to the
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 61 
 
 principles of the former. In others, the maxims as 
 well as forms of Roman jurisprudence, mingled imper- 
 ceptibly with the laws of the country, and had a power- 
 ful, though less sensible influence, in improving and 
 perfecting them 8 . 
 
 These various improvements in the system of juris- From M 
 prudence, and administration of justice, occasioned a a dfstinc-" 
 change in manners, of great importance, and of exten- * lon . in P ro ~ 
 sive effect. They gave rise to a distinction of profes- 
 sions ; they obliged men to cultivate different talents, 
 and to aim at different accomplishments, in order to 
 qualify themselves for the various departments and 
 functions which became necessary in society 1 . Among 
 uncivilized nations, there is but one profession honour- 
 able, that of arms. All the ingenuity and vigour of 
 the human mind are exerted in acquiring military skill 
 or address. The functions of peace are few and sim- 
 ple ; and require no particular course of education or 
 of study, as a preparation for discharging them. This 
 was the state of Europe during several centuries. Every 
 gentleman, born a soldier, scorned any other occupa- 
 tion ; he was taught no science but that of war ; even 
 his exercises and pastimes were feats of martial prowess. 
 Nor did the judicial character, which persons of noble 
 birth were alone entitled to assume, demand any degree 
 of knowledge beyond that which such untutored sol- 
 diers possessed. To recollect a few traditionary cus- 
 toms which time had confirmed, and rendered respect- 
 able; to mark out the lists of battle with due formality; 
 to observe the issue of the combat ; and to pronounce 
 whether it had been conducted according to the laws of 
 arms ; included every thing that a baron, who acted as 
 a judge, found it necessary to understand. 
 
 But when the forms of legal proceedings were fixed, The effect 
 when the rules of decision were committed to writing, S0 ciety. 
 
 Note xxv. 
 
 1 Dr. Ferguson's Essay on the History of Civil Society, part iv. sect. i.
 
 62 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 and collected into a body, law became a science, the 
 knowledge of which required a regular course of study, 
 together with long attention to the practice of courts. 
 Martial and illiterate nobles had neither leisure nor in- 
 clination to undertake a task so laborious, as well as so 
 foreign from all the occupations which they deemed 
 entertaining, or suitable to their rank. They gradually 
 relinquished their places in courts of justice, where 
 their ignorance exposed them to contempt. They 
 became weary of attending to the discussion of cases, 
 which grew too intricate for them to comprehend. Not 
 only the judicial determination of points which were 
 the subject of controversy, but the conduct of all legal 
 business and transactions, was committed to persons 
 trained by previous study and application to the know- 
 ledge of law. An order of men, to whom their fel- 
 low-citizens had daily recourse for advice, and to 
 whom they looked up for decision in their most impor- 
 tant concerns, naturally acquired consideration and 
 influence in society. They were advanced to honours 
 which had been considered hitherto as the peculiar 
 rewards of military virtue. They were intrusted with 
 offices of the highest dignity and most extensive power. 
 Thus, another profession than that of arms came to be 
 introduced among the laity, and was reputed honour- 
 able. The functions of civil life were attended to. The 
 talents requisite for discharging them were cultivated. 
 A new road was opened to wealth and eminence. The 
 arts and virtues of peace were placed in their proper 
 rank, and received their due recompense u . 
 
 The spirit of VIII. While improvements so important, with re- 
 chwalry m- S p ec t to the state of society and the administration of 
 
 trouuces 
 
 more liberal justice, gradually made progress in Europe, sentiments 
 
 nore 8 ' more liberal and generous had begun to animate the 
 
 generous nobles. These were inspired by the spirit of chivalry, 
 
 which, though considered, commonly, as a wild institu- 
 
 " Note xxvi.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 63 
 
 tion, the effect of caprice, and the source of extrava- 
 gance, arose naturally from the state of society at that 
 period, and had a very serious influence in refining the 
 
 manners of the European nations. The feudal state Origin of 
 
 , chivalry ; 
 
 was a state of almost perpetual war, rapine, and anar- 
 chy; during which the weak and unarmed were ex- 
 posed to insults or injuries. The power of the sovereign 
 was too limited to prevent these wrongs ; and the ad- 
 ministration of justice too feeble to redress them. The 
 most effectual protection against violence and oppres- 
 sion, was often found to be that which the valour and 
 generosity of private persons afforded. The same 
 spirit of enterprise which had prompted so many gen- 
 tlemen to take arms in defence of the oppressed pil- 
 grims in Palestine, incited others to declare themselves 
 the patrons and avengers of injured innocence at home. 
 When the final reduction of the Holy Land under the 
 dominion of infidels put an end to these foreign expe- 
 ditions, the latter was the only employment left for the 
 activity and courage of adventurers. To check the 
 insolence of overgrown oppressors ; to rescue the help- 
 less from captivity ; to protect or to avenge women, 
 orphans, and eccelesiastics, who could not bear arms in 
 their own defence ; to redress wrongs, and to remove 
 grievances; were deemed acts of the highest prowess 
 and merit. Valour, humanity, courtesy, justice, ho- 
 nour, were the characteristic qualities of chivalry. To 
 these was added religion, which mingled itself with 
 every passion and institution during the middle ages, 
 and, by infusing a large proportion of enthusiastic zeal, 
 gave them such force, as carried them to romantic excess. 
 Men were trained to knighthood by a long previous 
 discipline; they were admitted into the order by so- 
 lemnities no less devout than pompous ; every person 
 of noble birth courted that honour ; it was deemed a 
 distinction superior to royalty; and monarchs were 
 proud to receive it from the hands of private gentle- 
 men.
 
 64 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 its benefi- This singular institution, in which valour, gallantry, 
 cial effects. an j re ligi onj were so strangely blended, was wonder- 
 fully adapted to the taste and genius of martial nobles; 
 and its effects were soon visible in their manners. War 
 was carried on with less ferocity, when humanity came 
 to be deemed the ornament of knighthood no less than 
 courage. More gentle and polished manners were in- 
 troduced, when courtesy was recommended as the most 
 amiable of knightly virtues. Violence and oppression 
 decreased, when it was reckoned meritorious to check 
 and to punish them. A scrupulous adherence to truth, 
 with the most religious attention to fulfil every engage- 
 ment, became the distinguishing characteristic of a gen- 
 tleman, because chivalry was regarded as the school of 
 honour, and inculcated the most-delicate sensibility with 
 respect to those points. The admiration of these qua- 
 lities, together with the high distinctions and preroga- 
 tives conferred on knighthood in every part of Europe, 
 inspired persons of noble birth, on some occasions, with 
 a species of military fanaticism, and led them to extra- 
 vagant enterprises. Bait they deeply imprinted on their 
 minds the principles of generosity and honour. These 
 were strengthened by every thing that can affect the 
 senses or touch the heart. The wild exploits of those 
 romantic knights who sallied forth in quest of adven- 
 tures, are well known, and have been treated with 
 proper ridicule. The political and permanent effects 
 of the spirit of chivalry have been less observed. Per- 
 haps, the humanity which accompanies all the oper- 
 ations of war, the refinements of gallantry, and the point 
 of honour, the three chief circumstances which distin- 
 guish modern from ancient manners, may be ascribed, 
 in a great measure, to this institution, which has ap- 
 peared whimsical to superficial observers, but, by its 
 effects, has proved of great benefit to mankind. The 
 sentiments which chivalry inspired, had a wonderful 
 influence on manners and conduct during the twelfth, 
 thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. They
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 65 
 
 were so deeply rooted, that they continued to ope- 
 rate after the vigour and reputation of the institution 
 itself began to decline. Some considerable transac- 
 tions, recorded in the following history, resemble the 
 adventurous exploits of chivalry, rather than the well- 
 regulated operations of sound policy. Some of the 
 most eminent personages, whose characters will be de- 
 lineated, were strongly tinctured with this romantic 
 spirit. Francis the first was ambitious to distinguish 
 himself by all the qualities of an accomplished knight, 
 and endeavoured to imitate the enterprising genius of 
 chivalry in war, as well as its pomp and courtesy 
 during peace. The fame which the French monarch 
 acquired by these splendid actions, so far dazzled his 
 more temperate rival, that he departed on some occa- 
 sions from his usual prudence and moderation, and 
 emulated Francis in deeds of prowess, or of gallantry x . 
 
 IX. The progress of science, and the cultivation of The pro- 
 literature, had considerable effect in changing the &r ? ssot , 
 
 7 ... science has 
 
 manners of the European nations, and introducing that great influ- 
 
 civility and refinement by which they are now distin- 1 ' 
 
 guished. At the time when their empire was over- and cha- 
 turned, the Romans, though they had lost that correct men> 
 taste which has rendered the productions of their an- 
 cestors standards of excellence, and models of imitation 
 for succeeding ages, still preserved their love of let- 
 ters, and cultivated the arts with great ardour. But Ignorance 
 rude barbarians were so far from being struck with any ^ ^" l 
 admiration of these unknown accomplishments, that 
 they despised them. They were not arrived at that 
 state of society, when those faculties of the human 
 mind, which have beauty and elegance for their ob- 
 jects, begin to unfold themselves. They were strangers 
 to most of those wants and desires which are the 
 parents of ingenious invention; and as they did not 
 comprehend either the merit or utility of the Roman 
 
 * Note xxvii. 
 VOL. III. F
 
 66 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 arts, they destroyed the monuments of them with an 
 industry not inferior to that with which their posterity 
 have since studied to preserve or to recover them. The 
 convulsions occasioned by the settlement of so many un- 
 polished tribes in the empire ; the frequent as well as 
 violent revolutions in every kingdom which they esta- 
 blished, together with the interior defects in the form 
 of government which they introduced, banished secu- 
 rity and leisure ; prevented the growth of taste, or the 
 culture of science ; and kept Europe, during several 
 centuries, in that state of ignorance which has been 
 already described. But the events and institutions 
 which I have enumerated, produced great alterations 
 in society. As soon as their operation, in restoring 
 liberty and independence to one part of the commu- 
 nity, began to be felt ; as soon as they began to com- 
 municate to all the members of society some taste of 
 the advantages arising from commerce, from public 
 order, and from personal security, the human mind be- 
 came conscious of powers which it did not formerly 
 perceive, and fond of occupations or pursuits of which 
 it was formerly incapable. Towards the beginning of 
 the twelfth century, we discern the first symptoms of 
 its awakening from that lethargy in which it had been 
 long sunk, and observe it turning with curiosity and 
 attention towards new objects. 
 
 The first The first literary efforts, however, of the European 
 literary ef- na tions in the middle ages, were extremely ill-directed. 
 
 forts ill-di- . ' . . / 
 
 rected, and Among nations, as well as individuals, the powers ot 
 i ma gi nat i n attain some degree of vigour before the in- 
 tellectual faculties are much exercised in speculative or 
 abstract disquisition. Men are poets before they are 
 philosophers. They feel with sensibility, and describe 
 with force, when they have made but little progress in 
 investigation or reasoning. The age of Homer and of 
 Hesiod long preceded that of Thales or of Socrates. 
 But, unhappily for literature, our ancestors, deviating 
 from this course which nature points out, plunged at
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 67 
 
 once into the depths of abstruse and metaphysical in- 
 quiry. They had been converted to the Christian faith, 
 soon after they settled in their new conquests. But 
 they did not receive it pure. The presumption of men 
 had added to the simple and instructive doctrines of 
 Christianity the theories of a vain philosophy, that at- 
 tempted to penetrate into mysteries, and to decide 
 questions which the limited faculties of the human 
 mind are unable to comprehend or to resolve. These 
 over-curious speculations were incorporated with the 
 system of religion, and came to be considered as the 
 most essential part of it. As soon, then, as curiosity 
 prompted men to inquire and to reason, these were the 
 subjects which first presented themselves, and engaged 
 their attention. The scholastic theology, with its infi- 
 nite train of bold disquisitions, and subtle distinctions 
 concerning points which are not the object of human 
 reason, was the first production of the spirit of inquiry 
 after it began to resume some degree of activity and 
 vigour in Europe. It was not, however, this circum- 
 stance alone, that gave such a wrong turn to the minds 
 of men, when they began again to exercise talents 
 which they had so long neglected. Most of the per- 
 sons who attempted to revive literature in the twelfth 
 and thirteenth centuries, had received instruction, or 
 derived their principles of science, from the Greeks in 
 the eastern empire, or from the Arabians in Spain and 
 Africa. Both these people, acute and inquisitive to 
 excess, had corrupted those sciences which they culti- 
 vated. The former rendered theology a system of 
 speculative refinement, or of endless controversy. The 
 latter communicated to philosophy a spirit of metaphy- 
 sical and frivolous subtilty. Misled by these guides, 
 the persons who first applied to science were involved 
 in a maze of intricate inquiries. Instead of allowing 
 their fancy to take its natural range, and to produce 
 such works of invention as might have improved their 
 taste, and refined their sentiments ; instead of cultivat- 
 
 F2
 
 68 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 ing those arts which embellish human life, and render 
 it comfortable; they were fettered by authority, they 
 were led astray by example, and wasted the whole 
 force of their genius in speculations as unavailing as 
 they were difficult. 
 
 they had, But fruitless and ill-directed as these speculations 
 isidT' were > their novelty roused, and their boldness inte- 
 
 ble effects, rested, the human mind. The ardour with which 
 men pursued these uninviting studies was astonishing. 
 Genuine philosophy was never cultivated, in any en- 
 lightened age, with more zeal. Schools, upon the 
 model of those instituted by Charlemagne, were opened 
 in every cathedral, and almost in every monastery of 
 note. Colleges and universities were erected and form- 
 ed into communities or corporations, governed by their 
 own laws, and invested with separate and extensive 
 jurisdiction over their own members. A regular course 
 of studies was planned. Privileges of great value were 
 conferred on masters and scholars. Academical titles 
 and honours of various kinds were invented as a recom- 
 pense for both. Nor was it in the schools alone that 
 superiority in science led to reputation and authority ; 
 it became an object of respect in life, and advanced 
 such as acquired it to a rank of no inconsiderable 
 eminence. Allured by all these advantages, an incre- 
 dible number of students resorted to those new seats of 
 learning, and crowded with eagerness into that new 
 path which was opened to fame and distinction. 
 
 A circum- But how considerable soever these first efforts may 
 
 stance appear, there was one circumstance which prevented 
 
 which pre- , , 
 
 vented the effects of them from being as extensive as they 
 more ex-" g natura % ought to have been. All the languages in 
 tensive. Europe, during the period under review, were barba- 
 rous. They were destitute of elegance, of force, and 
 even of perspicuity. No attempt had been hitherto 
 made to improve or to polish them. The Latin tongue 
 was consecrated by the church to religion. Custom, 
 with authority scarcely less sacred, had appropriated it
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 69 
 
 to literature. All the sciences cultivated in the twelfth 
 and thirteenth centuries were taught in Latin. All 
 books with respect to them were written in that lan- 
 guage. It would have been deemed a degradation of 
 any important subject, to have treated of it in a modern 
 language. This confined science within a very narrow 
 circle. The learned alone were admitted into the 
 temple of knowledge ; the gate was shut against all 
 others, who were suffered to remain involved in their 
 former darkness and ignorance. 
 
 But though science was thus prevented, during seve- lu influ- 
 ral ages, from diffusing itself through society, and its j^nners 
 influence was much circumscribed ; the progress which merits at- 
 it made may be mentioned, nevertheless, among the 
 great causes which contributed to introduce a change 
 of manners into Europe. The ardent, though ill-judged 
 spirit of inquiry which I have described, occasioned a 
 fermentation of mind that put ingenuity and invention 
 in motion, and gave them vigour. It led men to a new 
 employment of their faculties, which they found to be 
 agreeable as well as interesting. It accustomed them 
 to exercises and occupations which tended to soften 
 their manners, and to give them some relish for the 
 gentle virtues, peculiar to people among whom science 
 has been cultivated with success y . 
 
 X. The progress of commerce had considerable in- The pro- 
 fluerice in polishing the manners of the European na- ress of 
 
 .* ~ _ commerce 
 
 tions, and in establishing among them order, equal laws, had great 
 and humanity. The wants of men, in the original and m 
 
 on man- 
 
 most simple state of society, are so few, and their desires ners and 
 so limited, that they rest contented with the natural me v n e t r . n 
 productions of their climate and soil, or with what they 
 can add to these by their own rude industry. They 
 have no superfluities to dispose of, and few necessities 
 that demand a supply. Every little community subsist- 
 ing on its own domestic stock, and satisfied with it, is 
 
 > Note xxviii.
 
 70 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. i. 
 
 Low state 
 of com- 
 merce in 
 the mid- 
 dle ages ; 
 
 causes of 
 its revival 
 
 either little acquainted with the states around it, or at 
 variance with them. Society and manners must be con- 
 siderably improved, and many provisions must be made 
 for public order and personal security, before a liberal 
 intercourse can take place between different nations. 
 We find, accordingly, that the first effect of the settle- 
 ment of the barbarians in the empire, was to divide those 
 nations which the Roman power had united. Europe 
 was broken into many separate communities. The inter- 
 course between these divided states ceased almost en- 
 tirely during several centuries. Navigation was dan- 
 gerous in seas infested by pirates ; nor could strangers 
 trust to a friendly reception in the ports of uncivilized 
 nations. Even between distant parts of the same king- 
 dom, the communication was rare and difficult. The 
 lawless rapine of banditti, together with the avowed 
 exactions of the nobles, scarcely less formidable and op- 
 pressive, rendered a journey of any length a perilous 
 enterprise. Fixed to the spot in which they resided, 
 the greater part of the inhabitants of Europe lost, in a 
 great measure, the knowledge of remote regions, and 
 were unacquainted with their names, their situations, 
 their climates, and their commodities z . 
 
 Various causes, however, contributed to revive the 
 spirit of commerce, and to renew, in some degree, the 
 intercourse between different nations. The Italians, 
 by their connexion with Constantinople, and other cities 
 of the Greek empire, had preserved in their own 
 country considerable relish for the precious commodi- 
 ties and curious manufactures of the east. They com- 
 municated some knowledge of these to the countries 
 contiguous to Italy. But this commerce being ex- 
 tremely limited, the intercourse which it occasioned 
 between different nations was not considerable. The 
 crusades, by leading multitudes from every corner of 
 Europe into Asia, opened a more extensive communi- 
 
 Note xiix.
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 71 
 
 cation between the east and west, which subsisted for 
 two centuries ; and though the object of these expedi- 
 tions was conquest, and not commerce ; though the 
 issue of them proved as unfortunate, as the motives for 
 undertaking them were wild and enthusiastic ; their 
 commercial effects, as hath been shown, were both bene- 
 ficial and permanent. During the continuance of the 
 crusades, the great cities in Italy, and in other countries 
 of Europe, acquired liberty, and together with it such 
 privileges as rendered them respectable and indepen- 
 dent communities. Thus, in every state, there was 
 formed a new order of citizens, to whom commerce pre- 
 sented itself as their proper object, and opened to them 
 a certain path to wealth and consideration. Soon after 
 the close of the holy war, the mariner's compass was in- 
 vented, which, by rendering navigation more secure, 
 encouraged it to become more adventurous, facilitated 
 the communication between remote nations, and brought 
 them nearer to each other. 
 
 The Italian states, during the same period, esta- first a- 
 blished a regular commerce with the east in the ports 
 of Egypt, and drew from thence all the rich products 
 of the Indies. They introduced into their own ter- 
 ritories manufactures of various kinds, and carried 
 them on with great ingenuity and vigour. They at- 
 tempted new arts; and transplanted from warmer cli- 
 mates, to which they had been hitherto deemed pe- 
 culiar, several natural productions which now furnish 
 the materials of a lucrative and extended commerce. 
 All these commodities, whether imported from Asia, 
 or produced by their own skill, they disposed of to 
 great advantage among the other people of Europe, 
 who began to acquire some taste for an elegance in 
 living unknown to their ancestors, or despised by them. 
 During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the com- 
 merce of Europe was almost entirely in the hands of 
 the Italians, more commonly known in those ages by 
 the name of Lombards. Companies or societies of
 
 72 A VIEW OF THE SECT. i. 
 
 Lombard merchants settled in every different king- 
 dom. They were taken under the immediate pro- 
 tection of the several governments. They enjoyed 
 extensive privileges and immunities. The operation 
 of the ancient barbarous laws concerning strangers, 
 was suspended with respect to them. They became 
 the carriers, the manufacturers, and the bankers of all 
 Europe. 
 
 then by the While the Italians, in the south of Europe, were 
 means of cultivating trade with such industry and success, the 
 atic league, commercial spirit awakened in the north towards the 
 middle of the thirteenth century. As the nations 
 around the Baltic were, at that time, extremely bar- 
 barous, and infested that sea with their piracies, the 
 cities of Lubec and Hamburgh, soon after they began 
 to open some trade with these people, found it ne- 
 cessary to enter into a league of mutual defence. They 
 derived such advantages from this union, that other 
 towns acceded to their confederacy, and, in a short 
 time, eighty of the most considerable cities, scattered 
 through those extensive countries which stretch from 
 the bottom of the Baltic to Cologne on the Rhine, 
 joined in the famous Hanseatic league, which became 
 so formidable, that its alliance was courted, and its 
 enmity was dreaded by the greatest monarchs. The 
 members of this powerful association formed the first 
 systematic plan of commerce known in the middle ages, 
 and conducted it by common laws enacted in their 
 general assemblies. They supplied the rest of Europe 
 with naval stores, and pitched on different towns, the 
 most eminent of which was Bruges in Flanders, where 
 they established staples in which their commerce was 
 regularly carried on. Thither the Lombards brought 
 the productions of India, together with the manufac- 
 tures of Italy, and exchanged them for the more bulky, 
 but not less useful commodities of the north. The 
 Hanseatic merchants disposed of the cargoes which 
 they received from the Lombards, in the ports of the
 
 SECT. i. STATE OF EUROPE. 73 
 
 Baltic, or carried them up the great rivers into the 
 interior parts of Germany. 
 
 This regular intercourse opened between the nations Commerce 
 in the north and south of Europe, made them sensible ^sln'the 
 of their mutual wants, and created such new and in- Nether- 
 creasing demands for commodities of every kind, that 
 it excited among the inhabitants of the Netherlands 
 a more vigorous spirit in carrying on the two great 
 manufactures of wool and flax, which seem to have 
 been considerable in that country as early as the age 
 of Charlemagne. As Bruges became the centre of 
 communication between the Lombard and Hanseatic 
 merchants, the Flemings traded with both in that city 
 to such extent as well as advantage, as spread among 
 them a general habit of industry, which long rendered 
 Flanders and the adjacent provinces the most opulent, 
 the most populous, and best cultivated countries in 
 Europe. 
 
 Struck with the flourishing state of these provinces, and in 
 of which he discerned the true cause, Edward the third En g land - 
 of England endeavoured to excite a spirit of industry 
 among his own subjects, who, blind to the advantages 
 of their situation, and ignorant of the source from 
 which opulence was destined to flow into their country, 
 were so little attentive to their commercial interests, 
 as hardly to attempt those manufactures, the materials 
 of which they furnished to foreigners. By alluring 
 Flemish artisans to settle in his dominions, as well as 
 by many wise laws for the encouragement and regu- 
 lation of trade, Edward gave a beginning to the wool- 
 len manufactures of England, and ^first turned the 
 active and enterprising genius of his people towards 
 those arts which have raised the English to the highest 
 rank among commercial nations. 
 
 This increase of commerce, and of intercourse be- The benefi- 
 tween nations, how inconsiderable soever it may ap- cial ? ffects 
 pear, in respect of their rapid and extensive progress 
 during the last and present age, seems wonderfully
 
 74 A VIEW, ETC. SECT. i. 
 
 great, when we compare it with the state of both in 
 Europe previous to the twelfth century. It did not 
 fail of producing great effects. Commerce tends to 
 wear off those prejudices which maintain distinction 
 and animosity between nations. It softens and po- 
 lishes the manners of men. It unites them by one of 
 the strongest of all ties, the desire of supplying their 
 mutual wants. It disposes them to peace, by esta- 
 blishing in every state an order of citizens bound by 
 their interest to be the guardians of public tranquillity. 
 As soon as the commercial spirit acquires vigour, and 
 begins to gain an ascendant in any society, we discover 
 a new genius in its policy, its alliances, its wars, and its 
 negotiations. Conspicuous proofs of this occur in the 
 history of the Italian states, of the Hanseatic league, 
 and the cities of the Netherlands, during the period 
 under review. In proportion as commerce made its 
 way into the different countries of Europe, they suc- 
 cessively turned their attention to those objects, and 
 adopted those manners, which occupy and distinguish 
 polished nations a . 
 
 Note xxx.
 
 A VIEW 
 
 OF 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY 
 IN EUROPE, 
 
 FROM THE SUBVERSION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE TO THB 
 BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 THE SECOND SECTION. 
 
 VIEW OF THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY IN EUROPE, WITH 
 RESPECT TO THE COMMAND OF THE NATIONAL FORCE 
 REQUISITE IN FOREIGN OPERATIONS. 
 
 oUCH are the events and institutions, which, by their State of so- 
 powerful operation, contributed gradually to introduce u 6 ^ proved 
 regular government and polished manners in the va- at the be- 
 rious nations of Europe. When we survey the state ^""fifteenth 
 of society, or the character of individuals, at the open- century. 
 ing of the fifteenth century, and then turn back to view 
 the condition of both, at the time when the barbarous 
 tribes, which overturned the Roman power, completed 
 their settlement in their new conquests, the progress 
 which mankind had made towards order and refine- 
 ment will appear immense. 
 
 Government, however, was still far from having at- still de- 
 tained that state, in which extensive monarchies act fectlve Wlth 
 
 respect to 
 
 with the united vigour of the whole community, or the com- 
 carry on great undertakings with perseverance and a "' 
 
 success. Small tribes or communities, even in their force.
 
 76 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 rudest state, may operate in concert, and exert their 
 utmost force. They are excited to act not by the dis- 
 tant objects, or the refined speculations, which interest 
 or affect men in polished societies, but by their present 
 feelings. The insults of an enemy kindle resentment ; 
 the success of a rival tribe awakens emulation ; these 
 passions communicate from breast to breast, and all 
 the members of the community, with united ardour, 
 rush into the field, in order to gratify their revenge, 
 or to acquire distinction. But in widely-extended 
 states, such as the great kingdoms of Europe, at the 
 beginning of the fifteenth century, where there is little 
 intercourse between the distant members of the com- 
 munity, arid where every great enterprise requires pre- 
 vious concert and long preparation, nothing can rouse 
 and call forth their united strength, but the absolute 
 command of a despot, or the powerful influence of 
 regular policy. Of the former, the vast empires in the 
 east are an example ; the irresistible mandate of the 
 sovereign reaches the most remote provinces of his 
 dominions, and compels whatever number of his sub- 
 jects he is pleased to summon, to follow his standard. 
 The kingdoms of Europe, in the present age, are an 
 instance of the latter ; the prince, by the less violent, 
 but no less effectual operation of laws, and a well-re- 
 gulated government, is enabled to avail himself of the 
 whole force of his state, and to employ it in enterprises 
 which require strenuous and persevering efforts. 
 The power But, at the opening of the fifteenth century, the po- 
 of monarchs litical constitution in all the kingdoms of Europe was 
 
 V6TV ll- 
 
 mited ; very different from either of these states of government. 
 The several monarchs, though they had somewhat 
 enlarged the boundaries of prerogative by successful 
 encroachments on the immunities and privileges of 
 the nobility, were possessed of an authority extremely 
 limited. The laws and interior police of kingdoms, 
 though much improved by the various events and re- 
 gulations which I have enumerated, were still feeble
 
 SECT. n. STATE OF EUROPE. 77 
 
 and imperfect. In every country, a numerous body 
 of nobles, who continued to be formidable, notwith- 
 standing the various expedients employed to depress 
 them, watched all the motions of their sovereign with 
 a jealous attention, which set bounds to his ambition, 
 and either prevented his forming schemes of extensive 
 enterprise, or obstructed the execution of them. 
 
 The ordinary revenues of every prince were so ex- their reve- 
 tremely small as to be inadequate to any great under- m 
 taking. He depended for extraordinary supplies on- 
 the good-will of his subjects, who granted them often 
 with a reluctant, and always with a sparing hand. 
 
 As the revenues of princes were inconsiderable, the their armies 
 armies which they could bring into the field were unfit conquest. 
 for long and effectual service. Instead of being able 
 to employ troops trained to skill in arms, and to mi- 
 litary subordination, by regular discipline, monarchs 
 were obliged to depend on such forces as their vassals 
 conducted to their standard in consequence of their 
 military tenures. These, as they were bound to re- 
 main under arms only for a short time, could not march 
 far from their usual place of residence, and being more 
 attached to the lord of whom they held, than to the 
 sovereign whom they served, were often as much dis- 
 posed to counteract as to forward his schemes. Nor 
 were they, even if they had been more subject to the 
 command of the monarch, proper instruments to carry 
 into execution any great and arduous enterprise. The 
 strength of an army, formed either for conquest or de- 
 fence, lies in infantry. To the stability and discipline 
 of their legions, consisting chiefly of infantry, the Ro- 
 mans, during the times of the republic, were indebted 
 for their victories; and when their descendants, for- 
 getting the institutions which had led them to uni- 
 versal dominion, so far altered their military .system 
 as to place their principal confidence in a numerous 
 cavalry, the undisciplined impetuosity of the barbarous 
 nations, who fought mostly on foot, was sufficient, as I
 
 78 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 have already observed, to overcome them. These na- 
 tions, soon after they settled in their new conquests, 
 uninstructed by the fatal errour of the Romans, re- 
 linquished the customs of their ancestors, and con- 
 verted the chief force of their armies into cavalry. 
 Among the Romans this change was occasioned by the 
 effeminacy of their troops, who could not endure the 
 fatigues of service, which their more virtuous and 
 hardy ancestors had sustained with ease. Among the 
 people who established the new monarchies into which 
 Europe was .divided, this innovation in military dis- 
 cipline seems to have flowed from the pride of the 
 nobles, who, scorning to mingle with persons of in- 
 ferior rank, aimed at being distinguished from them in 
 the field, as well as during peace. The institution of 
 chivalry, and the frequency of tournaments, in which 
 knights, in complete armour, entered the lists on horse- 
 back with extraordinary splendour, displaying amazing 
 address, force, and valour, brought cavalry into still 
 greater esteem. The fondness for that service in- 
 creased to such a degree, that during the thirteenth 
 and fourteenth centuries the armies of Europe were 
 composed almost entirely of cavalry. No gentleman 
 would appear in the field but on horseback. To serve 
 in any other manner, he would have deemed deroga- 
 tory to his rank. The cavalry, by way of distinction, 
 was called ' the battle,' and on it alone depended the 
 fate of every action. The infantry, collected from the 
 dregs and refuse of the people, ill armed and worse 
 disciplined, was almost of no account. 
 
 They are As these circumstances rendered the operations of 
 incapable particular kingdoms less considerable and less vigor- 
 
 of forming , _, 
 
 any general ous, so they long kept the princes or Europe from giv- 
 or extensive m ~ sucn attention to the' schemes and transactions of 
 
 plan of ope- 
 ration: their neighbours, as might lead them to form any re- 
 gular system of public security. They were, of conse- 
 quence, prevented from uniting in confederacy, or from 
 acting with concert, in order to establish such a distri-
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 79 
 
 bution and balance of power, as should hinder any 
 state from rising to a superiority, which might endanger 
 the general liberty and independence. During several 
 centuries, the nations of Europe appear to have con- 
 sidered themselves as separate societies, scarcely con- 
 nected together by any common interest, and little 
 concerned in each other's affairs or operations. An 
 extensive commerce did not afford them an opportunity 
 of observing and penetrating into the schemes of every 
 different state. They had not ambassadors residing 
 constantly in every court to watch and give early intel- 
 ligence of all its motions. The expectation of remote 
 advantages, or the prospect of distant and contingent 
 evils, was not sufficient to excite nations to take arms. 
 Such only as were within the sphere of immediate 
 danger, and unavoidably exposed to injury or insult, 
 thought themselves interested in any contest, or bound 
 to take precautions for their own safety. 
 
 Whoever records the transactions of any of the more they were 
 considerable European states, during the two last cen- uecfed'wJth 
 turies, must write the history of Europe. Its various each other. 
 kingdoms, throughout that period, have been formed 
 into one great system, so closely united, that, each 
 holding a determinate station, the operations of one 
 are so felt by all as to influence their counsels and re- 
 gulate their measures. But previous to the fifteenth 
 century, unless when vicinity of territory rendered the 
 occasions of discord frequent and unavoidable, or when 
 national emulation fomented or embittered the spirit of 
 hostility, the affairs of different countries are seldom 
 interwoven with each other. In each kingdom of Eu- 
 rope great events and revolutions happened, which the 
 other powers beheld with almost the same indifference 
 as if they had been uninterested spectators, to whom 
 the effect of these transactions could never extend. 
 
 During the violent struggles between France and t ion of this 
 England, and notwithstanding the alarming progress fr 'V the 
 which was made tow..rds rendering one prince the France;
 
 80 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. n. 
 
 from those 
 of Spain ; 
 
 from those 
 of Ger- 
 many. 
 
 This inac- 
 tivity oc- 
 casioned 
 entirely by 
 the state 
 of govern- 
 ment. 
 
 master of both these kingdoms, hardly one measure 
 which can be considered as the result of a sagacious 
 and prudent policy, was formed in order to guard 
 against an event so fatal to Europe. The dukes of 
 Burgundy and Bretagne, whom their situation would 
 not permit to remain neutral, engaged, it is true, in the 
 contest ; but, in taking their part, they seem rather to 
 have followed the impulse of their passions, than to 
 have been guided by any just discernment of the dan- 
 ger which threatened themselves and the tranquillity 
 of Europe. The other princes, seemingly unaffected 
 by the alternate successes of the contending parties, 
 left them to decide the quarrel by themselves, or inter- 
 posed only by feeble and ineffectual negotiations. 
 
 Notwithstanding the perpetual hostilities in which 
 the various kingdoms of Spain were engaged during 
 several centuries, and the successive occurrences which 
 visibly tended to unite that part of the continent into 
 one great monarchy, the princes of Europe hardly 
 took any step from which we may conclude that they 
 gave a proper attention to that important event. They 
 permitted a power to arise imperceptibly, and to ac- 
 quire strength there, which soon became formidable to 
 all its neighbours. 
 
 Amidst the violent convulsions with which the spirit 
 of domination in the see of Rome, and the turbulent 
 ambition of the German nobles, agitated the empire, 
 neither the authority of the popes, seconded by all 
 their artifices and intrigues, nor the solicitations of the 
 emperors, could induce any of the powerful monarchs 
 in Europe to engage in their quarrel, or to avail them- 
 selves of many favourable opportunities of interposing 
 with effect and advantage. 
 
 This amazing inactivity, during transactions so inter- 
 esting, is not to be imputed to any incapacity of dis- 
 cerning their political consequences. The power of 
 judging with sagacity, and of acting with vigour, is the 
 portion of men of every age. The monarchs who
 
 SECT. n. STATE OF EUROPE. 81 
 
 reigned in the different kingdoms of Europe during 
 several centuries, were not blind to their particular in- 
 terest, negligent of the public safety, or strangers to 
 the method of securing both. If they did not adopt 
 that salutary system, which teaches modern politicians 
 to take the alarm at the prospect of distant dangers, 
 which prompts them to check the first encroachments 
 of any formidable power, and which renders each state 
 the guardian, in some degree, of the rights and inde- 
 pendence of all its neighbours, this was owing entirely 
 to such imperfections and disorders in the civil govern- 
 ment of each country, as made it impossible for sove- 
 reigns to act suitably to those ideas which the posture 
 of affairs and their own observation must have sug- 
 gested. 
 
 But during the course of the fifteenth century va- Events 
 rious events happened, which, by giving princes more duruig"thc 
 entire command of the force in their respective domi- fifteenth 
 nions, rendered their operations more vigorous and which ren- 
 extensive. In consequence of this, the affairs of dif- d 5, r the 
 ferent kingdoms becoming more frequently as well as nations 
 more intimately connected, they were gradually accus- ^j P^~ 
 tomed to act in concert and confederacy, and were in- extensive. 
 sensibly prepared for forming a system of policy, in 
 order to establish or to preserve such a balance of 
 power as was most consistent with the general security. 
 It was during the reign of Charles the fifth, that the 
 ideas on which this system is founded first came to be 
 fully understood. It was then that the maxims by 
 which it has been uniformly maintained since that aera, 
 were universally adopted. On this account, a view of 
 the causes and events which contributed to establish a 
 plan of policy more salutary and extensive than any 
 that has taken place in the conduct of human affairs, 
 is not only a necessary introduction to the following 
 work, but is a capital object in the history of Europe. 
 
 The first event that occasioned any considerable al- T^ 16 first of 
 
 , /./ -n these was 
 
 teration in the arrangement of affairs in Europe, was the depriv. 
 
 VOL. III. O
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. ii. 
 
 ing the 
 
 thefr'terri- 
 tories on 
 
 the conti- 
 nent. 
 
 the annexation of the extensive territories, which Eng- 
 ^ ant ^ possessed on the continent, to the crown of France. 
 While the English were masters of several of the most 
 
 _ ,-, 
 
 fertile and opulent provinces in Jb ranee, and a great 
 
 part of its most martial inhabitants was bound to follow 
 their standard, an English monarch considered himself 
 rather as the rival, than as the vassal, of the sovereign 
 of whom he held. The kings of France, circumscribed 
 and thwarted in their schemes and operations by an 
 adversary no less jealous than formidable, durst not 
 enter upon any enterprise of importance or of difficulty. 
 The English were always at hand, ready to oppose 
 them. They disputed even their right to their crown, 
 and, being able to penetrate with ease into the heart 
 of the kingdom, could arm against them those very 
 hands which ought to have been employed in their 
 defence. Timid counsels and feeble efforts were na- 
 tural to monarchs in such a situation. France, dis- 
 membered and overawed, could not attain its proper 
 station in the system of Europe. But the death of 
 Henry the fifth of England, happily for France, and 
 not unfortunately for his own country, delivered the 
 French from the calamity of having a foreign master 
 seated on their throne. The weakness of a long mi- 
 nority, the dissensions in the English court, together 
 with the unsteady and languid conduct which these 
 occasioned, afforded the French a favourable oppor- 
 tunity of recovering the territories which they had lost. 
 The native valour of the French nobility, heightened 
 to an enthusiastic confidence, by a supposed interposi- 
 tion of heaven in their behalf, conducted in the field 
 by skilful leaders, and directed in the cabinet by a 
 prudent monarch, was exerted with such vigour and 
 success, during this favourable juncture, as not only 
 wrested from the English their new conquests, but 
 stripped them of their ancient possessions in France, 
 and reduced them within the narrow precincts of Ca- 
 lais, and its petty territory.
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 83 
 
 As soon as so many considerable provinces were re- The effect 
 united to their dominions, the kings of France, con- 
 
 scious of this acquisition of strength, began to form tlj e power 
 bolder schemes of interior policy, as well as of foreign French 
 operations. They immediately became formidable to monarch y ; 
 their neighbours, who began to fix their attention on 
 their measures and motions, the importance of which 
 they fully perceived. From this aera, France, possessed 
 of the advantages which it derives from the situation 
 and contiguity of its territories, as well as from the 
 number and valour of its people, rose to new influence 
 in Europe, and was the first power in a condition to give 
 alarm to the jealousy or fears of the states around it. 
 
 Nor was France indebted for this increase of im- O n the 
 portance merely to the reunion of the provinces which ^^ the 
 had been torn from it. A circumstance attended the force in.the 
 recovery of these, which, though less considerable and na 
 less observed, contributed not a little to give additional 
 vigour and decision to all the efforts of that monarchy. 
 During the obstinate struggles between France and 
 England, all the defects of the military system under 
 the feudal government were sensibly felt. A war of 
 long continuance languished, when carried on by troops 
 bound and accustomed to keep the field only for a 
 short time. Armies, composed chiefly of heavy-armed 
 cavalry, were unfit either for the defence or the attack 
 of the many towns and castles, which it became neces- 
 sary to guard or to reduce. In order to obtain such 
 permanent and effective force, as became requisite dur- 
 ing these lengthened contests, the kings of France took 
 into their pay considerable bands of mercenary soldiers, 
 levied sometimes among their own subjects, and some- 
 times in foreign countries. But, as the feudal policy 
 provided no sufficient fund for such extraordinary ser- 
 vice, these adventurers were dismissed at the close of 
 every campaign, or upon any prospect of accommoda- 
 tion; and, having been little accustomed to the re- 
 straints of discipline, they frequently turned their arms 
 
 o2
 
 84 A VIEW OF THE SECT. IT. 
 
 against the country which they had been hired to de- 
 fend, and desolated it with cruelty not inferior to that 
 of its foreign enemies. 
 
 it occasions A body of troops kept constantly on foot, and regu- 
 du^tionof l ar ty trained to military subordination, would have sup- 
 standing ar- plied what was wanting in the feudal constitution, and 
 have furnished princes with the means of executing en- 
 terprises to which they were then unequal. Such an 
 establishment, however, was so repugnant to the 
 genius of feudal policy, and so incompatible with the 
 privileges and pretensions of the nobility, that during 
 several centuries no monarch was either so bold, or so 
 powerful, as to venture on any step towards introducing 
 it. At last, Charles the seventh, availing himself of 
 the reputation which he had acquired by his successes 
 against the English, and taking advantage of the im- 
 pressions of terrour which such a formidable enemy had 
 left upon the minds of his subjects, executed that which 
 A.D. 1445. his predecessors durst not attempt. Under pretence 
 of having always ready a force sufficient to defend the 
 kingdom against any sudden invasion of the English, 
 he, at the time when he disbanded his other troops, 
 retained under arms a body of nine thousand cavalry, 
 and of sixteen thousand infantry. He appropriated 
 funds for the regular payment of these ; he stationed 
 them in different places of the kingdom, according to 
 his pleasure; and appointed the officers who com- 
 manded and disciplined them. The prime nobility 
 courted this service, in which they were taught to de- 
 pend on their sovereign, to execute his orders, and to 
 look up to him as the judge and rewarder of their merit. 
 The feudal militia, composed of the vassals whom the 
 nobles could call out to follow their standard, as it was 
 in no degree comparable to a body of soldiers regularly 
 trained to war, sunk gradually in reputation. The 
 strength of an army was no longer estimated solely by 
 the number of cavalry which served in it. From the 
 time that gunpowder was invented, and the use of
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 85 
 
 cannon in the field became general, horsemen, cased in 
 complete armour, lost all the advantages which gave 
 them the preeminence over other soldiers. The helmet, 
 the shield, and the breastplate, which resisted the 
 arrow or the spear, no longer afforded them security 
 against these new instruments of destruction. The 
 service of infantry rose again into esteem, and victories 
 were gained, and conquests made chiefly by their ef- 
 forts. The nobles and their military tenants, though 
 sometimes summoned to the field, according to ancient 
 form, were considered as an encumbrance upon the 
 troops with which they acted, and were viewed with 
 contempt by soldiers accustomed to the vigorous and 
 steady operations of regular service. 
 
 Thus the regulations of Charles the seventh, by The effects 
 establishing the first standing army known in Europe, of thls> 
 occasioned an important revolution in its affairs and 
 policy. By taking from the nobles the sole direction 
 of the national military force, which had raised them to 
 such high authority and importance, a deep wound was 
 given to the feudal aristocracy, in that part where its 
 power seemed to be most complete. 
 
 France, by forming this body of regular troops, at a 
 time when there was hardly a squadron or company 
 kept in constant pay in any other part of Europe, 
 acquired such advantages over its neighbours, either 
 in attack or defence, that self-preservation made it 
 necessary for them to imitate its example. Mercenary 
 troops were introduced into all the considerable king- 
 doms on the continent. They gradually became the 
 only military force that was employed or trusted. It 
 has long been the chief object of policy to increase and 
 to support them. It has long been the great aim of 
 princes and ministers to discredit and to annihilate all 
 other means of national activity or defence. 
 
 As the kings of France got the start of other powers The mo- 
 in establishing a military force in their dominions, p"n^ f n _ 
 which enabled them to carry on foreign operations with couraged to
 
 86 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 extend their more vigour, and to greater extent, so they were the 
 prerogative. rgt w j lo e ff ec t ua lly broke the feudal aristocracy, and 
 
 humbled the great vassals of the crown, who by their 
 exorbitant power had long circumscribed the royal pre- 
 rogative within very narrow limits, and had rendered 
 all the efforts of the monarch s of Europe inconsider- 
 able. Many things concurred to undermine, gradually, 
 the power of the feudal aristocracy in France. The 
 wealth and property of the nobility were greatly im- 
 paired during the long wars which the kingdom was 
 obliged to maintain with the English. The extraordi- 
 nary zeal with which they exerted themselves in de- 
 fence of their country against its ancient enemies, 
 exhausted entirely the fortunes of some great families. 
 As almost every province in the kingdom was, in its 
 turn, the seat of war, the lands of others were exposed 
 to the depredations of the enemy, were ravaged by the 
 mercenary troops which their sovereigns hired occa- 
 sionally, but could not pay, or were desolated with 
 rage still more destructive by the peasants, in different 
 insurrections. At the same time, the necessities of 
 government having forced their kings upon the despe- 
 rate expedient of making great and sudden alterations 
 in the current coin of the kingdom, the fines, quit- 
 rents, and other payments fixed by ancient custom, 
 sunk much in value, and the revenues of a fief were 
 reduced far below the sum which it had once yielded. 
 During their contests with the English, in which a 
 generous nobility courted every station where danger 
 appeared, or honour could be gained, many families of 
 note became extinct, and their fiefs were reunited to 
 the crown. Other fiefs, in a long course of years, fell 
 to female heirs, and were divided among them, were 
 diminished by profuse donations to the church, or were 
 broken and split by the succession of remote collateral 
 heirs b . 
 
 b Boulainvilliers, Histoire du Gouvernement de France, Lettre xii.
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 87 
 
 Encouraged by these manifest symptoms of decline The pro- 
 in that body which he wished to depress, Charles the g ressof the 
 seventh, during the first interval of peace with England, under 
 made several efforts towards establishing the regal pre- 
 
 rogative on the ruins of the aristocracy. But his obli- 
 gations to the nobles were so many, as well as recent, 
 and their services in recovering the kingdom so splen- 
 did, as rendered it necessary for him to proceed with 
 moderation and caution. Such, however, was the au- 
 thority which the crown had acquired by the progress 
 of its arms against the English, and so much was the 
 power of the nobility diminished, that, without any 
 opposition, he soon made innovations of great conse- 
 quence in the constitution. He not only established 
 that formidable body of regular troops which has been 
 mentioned, but he was the first monarch of France, 
 who, by his royal edict, without the concurrence of the 
 states-general of the kingdom, levied an extraordinary A. D. 1440. 
 subsidy on his people. He prevailed likewise with his 
 subjects to render several taxes perpetual, which had 
 formerly been imposed occasionally, and exacted during 
 a short time. By means of all these innovations, he 
 acquired such an increase of power, and extended his 
 prerogative so far beyond its ancient limits, that, from 
 being the most dependent prince who had ever sat 
 upon the throne of France, he came to possess, during 
 the latter years of his reign, a degree of authority which 
 none of his predecessors had enjoyed for several ages c . 
 
 That plan of humbling the nobility which Charles under Louis 
 began to execute, his son Louis the eleventh carried l 
 on with a bolder spirit, and with greater success. Louis 
 was formed by nature to be a tyrant ; and at whatever 
 period he had been called to ascend the throne, his 
 reign must have abounded with schemes to oppress his 
 people, and to render his own power absolute. Subtle, 
 
 c Histoire de France par Velly et Villaret, torn. xv. 331, etc. 389, torn, 
 xvi. 324. Variations de la Monarchic Francoise, torn. iii. 162.
 
 88 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 unfeeling, cruel ; a stranger to every principle of inte- 
 grity, and regardless of decency, he scorned all the 
 restraints which a sense of honour or the desire of 
 fame, imposes even upon ambitious men. Sagacious, 
 at the same time, to discern what he deemed his true 
 interest, and influenced by that alone, he was capable 
 of pursuing it with a persevering industry, and of ad- 
 hering to it with a systematic spirit, from which no 
 object could divert, and no danger could deter him. 
 His mea- The maxims of his administration were as profound 
 
 humblin as ^ey were ^ ata ^ to t " ie privi^g 68 f the nobility. He 
 the nobility; filled all the departments of government with new men, 
 and often with persons whom he called from the lowest, 
 as well as most despised functions in life, and raised at 
 pleasure to stations of great power or trust. These 
 were his only confidents, whom he consulted in forming 
 his plans, and to whom he committed the execution of 
 them; while the nobles, accustomed to be the compa- 
 nions, the favourites, and the ministers of their sove- 
 reigns, were treated with such studied and mortifying 
 neglect, that, if they would not submit to follow a court 
 in which they appeared without any shadow of their 
 ancient power, they were obliged to retire to their cas- 
 tles, where they remained unemployed and forgotten. 
 Not satisfied with having rendered the nobles of less 
 consideration, by taking out of their hands the sole 
 direction of affairs, Louis added insult to neglect ; and, 
 by violating their most valuable privileges, endeavoured 
 to degrade the order, and to reduce the members of it 
 to the same level with other subjects. Persons of the 
 highest rank among them, if so bold as to oppose his 
 schemes, or so unfortunate as to awaken the jealousy 
 of his. capricious temper, were persecuted with rigour, 
 from which all who belonged to the order of nobility 
 had hitherto been exempt ; they were tried by judges 
 who had no right to take cognizance of their actions, 
 and were subjected to torture, or condemned to an 
 ignominious death, without regard to their birth or
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 89 
 
 condition. The people, accustomed to see the blood 
 of the most illustrious personages shed by the hands of 
 the common executioner, to behold them shut up in 
 dungeons, and carried about in cages of iron, began to 
 view the nobility with less reverence than formerly, and 
 looked up with terrour to the royal authority, which 
 seemed to have humbled or annihilated every other 
 power in the kingdom. 
 
 At the same time, Louis, being afraid that oppression and of di- 
 might rouse the nobles, whom the rigour of his govern- ^ e j^| 
 ment had intimidated, or that self-preservation might 
 at last teach them to unite, dexterously scattered 
 among them the seeds of discord, and industriously 
 fomented those ancient animosities between the great 
 families, which the spirit of jealousy and emulation, 
 natural to the feudal government, had originally kin- 
 dled and still kept alive. To accomplish this, all the 
 arts of intrigue, all the mysteries and refinements of his 
 fraudulent policy were employed, and with such suc- 
 cess, that at a juncture which required the most strenu- 
 ous efforts, as Well as the most perfect union, the nobles 
 never acted, except during one short sally of resent- 
 ment at the beginning of his reign, either with vigour 
 or in concert. 
 
 As he stripped the nobility of their privileges, he He adds to 
 added to the power and prerogative of the crown. b^of'stand 
 
 In order to have at command such a body of soldiers ing forces. 
 as might be sufficient to crush any force that his disaf- 
 fected subjects could draw together, he not only kept 
 on foot the regular troops which his father had raised, 
 but, besides augmenting their number considerably, he 
 took into his pay six thousand Swiss, at that time the 
 best disciplined and most formidable infantry in Eu- 
 rope d . From the jealousy natural to tyrants, he con- 
 fided in these foreign mercenaries, as the most devoted 
 
 d Mem de Comines, torn. i. 367. Dan. Hist, de la Milice Franfoise, 
 torn. i. 182.
 
 90 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 instruments of oppression, and the most faithful guar- 
 dians of the power which he had usurped. That they 
 might be ready to act on the shortest warning, he, 
 during the latter years of his reign, kept a considerable 
 body of them encamped in one place '. 
 
 He aug- Great funds were requisite, not only to defray the 
 g s e of expense of this additional establishment, but to supply 
 the crown, the sums employed in the various enterprises which the 
 restless activity of his genius prompted him to under- 
 take. But the prerogative that his father had assumed, 
 of levying taxes without the concurrence of the states- 
 general, which he was careful not only to retain but to 
 extend, enabled him to provide in some measure for 
 the increasing charges of government. 
 
 His address What his prerogative, enlarged as it was, could not 
 mmanaging furnigi^ hj s address procured. He was the first mo- 
 bly of states, narch in Europe who discovered the method of manag- 
 ing those great assemblies, in which the feudal policy 
 had vested the power of granting subsidies and of im- 
 posing taxes. He first taught other princes the fatal art 
 of beginning their attack on public liberty, by corrupting 
 the source from which it should flow. By exerting all his 
 power and address in influencing the election of repre- 
 sentatives, by bribing or overawing the members, and 
 by various changes which he artfully made in the form 
 of their deliberations, Louis acquired such entire direc- 
 tion of these assemblies, that, from being the vigilant 
 guardians of the privileges and property of the people, 
 he rendered them tamely subservient towards promot- 
 ing the most odious measures of his reign f . As no 
 power remained to set bounds to his exactions, he not 
 only continued all the taxes imposed by his father, but 
 he made great additions to them, which amounted to a 
 sum that appeared astonishing to his contemporaries 8 , 
 
 e M6m. de Com. torn. i. 381. 
 
 f Mem. de Com. torn. i. 136. Chro. Scandal, ibid. torn. ii. p. 71. 
 f Mem. de Com. torn. i. 334. Charles the seventh levied taxes to the 
 amount of 1,800,000 francs; Louis the eleventh raised 4,700,000. The
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 91 
 
 Nor was it the power alone or wealth of the crown He en- 
 that Louis increased ; he extended its territories by {^'^^f 
 acquisitions of various kinds. He got possession of the French 
 Rousillon by purchase : Provence was conveyed to him monarc y- 
 by the will of Charles de Anjou ; and upon the death 
 of Charles the bold, he seized, with a strong hand, Bur- 
 gundy and Artois, which had belonged to that prince. 
 Thus, during the course of a single reign, France was 
 formed into one compact kingdom, and the steady un- 
 relenting policy of Louis the eleventh, not only sub- 
 dued the haughty spirit of the feudal nobles, but esta- 
 blished a species of government scarcely less absolute, 
 or less terrible, than eastern despotism. 
 
 But fatal as his administration was to the liberties of By all 
 his subjects, the authority which he acquired, the re- ^ ese ^ e 
 sources of which he became master, and his freedom vemment 
 from restraint in concerting his plans, as well as in 
 executing them, rendered his reign active and enter- tive 
 prising. Louis negotiated in all the courts of Europe ; 
 he observed the motions of all his neighbours ; he en- 
 gaged, either as principal, or as an auxiliary, in every 
 great transaction; his resolutions were prompt, his 
 operations vigorous ; and upon every emergence he 
 could call forth into action the whole force of his king- 
 dom. From the aera of his reign, the kings of France, 
 no longer fettered and circumscribed at home by a 
 jealous nobility, have exerted themselves more abroad, 
 have formed more extensive schemes of foreign con- 
 quests, and have carried on war with a spirit and 
 vigour long unknown in Europe. 
 
 The example which Louis set was too inviting not to steps 
 be imitated by other princes. Henry the seventh, as take , n to ~ 
 
 r wards ex- 
 
 soon as he was seated on the throne of England, formed tending 
 
 former had in pay 9000 cavalry and 16,000 infantry. The latter augmented 
 the cavalry to 15,000, and the infantry to 25,000. Mem. de Comines, i. 
 384. During the latter years of his reign, he kept the greater part of 
 these encamped in one place, and ready to march on the shortest warning. 
 Ibid. 381.
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. n. 
 
 the power 
 of the 
 crown in 
 England ; 
 
 the plan of enlarging his own prerogative, by breaking 
 the power of the nobility. The circumstances under 
 which he undertook to execute it were less favourable 
 than those which induced Charles the seventh to make 
 the same attempt; and the spirit with which he con- 
 ducted it was very different from that of Louis the 
 eleventh. Charles, by the success of his arms against 
 the English, by the merit of having expelled them out 
 of so many provinces, had established himself so firmly 
 in the confidence of his people, as encouraged him to 
 make bold encroachments on the ancient constitution. 
 The daring genius of Louis broke through every bar- 
 rier, and endeavoured to surmount or to remove every 
 obstacle that stood in his way. But Henry held the 
 sceptre by a disputed title ; a popular faction was 
 ready, every moment, to take arms against him ; and 
 after long civil wars, during which the nobility had 
 often displayed their power in creating and deposing 
 kings, he felt that the regal authority had been so much 
 relaxed, and that he entered into possession of a prero- 
 gative so much abridged, as rendered it necessary to 
 carry on his measures deliberately, and without any 
 violent exertion. He endeavoured to undermine that 
 formidable structure, which he durst not attack by 
 open force. His schemes, though cautious and slow 
 in their operation, were well concerted, and productive 
 in the end of great effects. By his laws, permitting the 
 barons to break the entails of their estates, and expose 
 them to sale ; by his regulations to prevent the nobility 
 from keeping in their service those numerous bands of 
 retainers which rendered them formidable and turbu- 
 lent ; by favouring the rising power of the commons ; 
 by encouraging population, agriculture, and commerce ; 
 by securing to his subjects, during a long reign, the 
 enjoyment of the blessings which flow from the arts of 
 peace ; by accustoming them to an administration of 
 government, under which the laws were executed with 
 steadiness and vigour ; he made, imperceptibly, consi-
 
 SECT. n. STATE OF EUROPE. 93 
 
 derable alterations in the English constitution, and 
 transmitted to his successor, authority so extensive, as 
 rendered him one of the most absolute monarchs in 
 Europe, and capable of the greatest and most vigorous 
 efforts. 
 
 In Spain, the union of all its crowns by the marriage and in 
 of Ferdinand and Isabella ; the glory that they acquired s P ain - 
 by the conquest of Granada, which brought the odious 
 dominion of the Moors to a period ; the command of 
 the great armies which it had been necessary to keep 
 long on foot, in order to accomplish this ; the wisdom 
 and steadiness of their administration ; and the address 
 with which they availed themselves of every incident 
 that occurred to humble the nobility, and to extend 
 their own prerogative, conspired in raising these mo- 
 narchs to such eminence and authority as none of their 
 predecessors had ever enjoyed. Though several causes, 
 which shall be explained in another place, prevented 
 their attaining the same powers with the kings of 
 France and England, and preserved the feudal consti- 
 tution longer entire in Spain, their great abilities sup- 
 plied the defects of their prerogative, and improved 
 with such dexterity all the advantages which they pos- 
 sessed, that Ferdinand carried on his foreign operations, 
 which were very extensive, with extraordinary vigour 
 and effect. 
 
 While these princes were thus enlarging the boun- Events 
 daries of prerogative, and taking such steps towards ha ppened, 
 rendering their kingdom capable of acting with union called the 
 and force, events occurred, which called them forth to roonarchs 
 exert the new powers which they had acquired. These to exert 
 engaged them in such a series of enterprises and nego- powers w 
 tiations, that the affairs of all the considerable nations ^ hich the y 
 
 T-l ! 1 1_ t " a " aC ~ 
 
 in Europe came to be insensibly interwoven with each quired. 
 other ; and a great political system was gradually 
 formed, which grew to be an object of universal atten- 
 tion. 
 
 The first event which merits notice, on account of its
 
 94 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. ii. 
 
 The first 
 of these 
 events was 
 the mar- 
 riage of 
 the heiress 
 of the 
 house of 
 Burgundy. 
 
 The im- 
 portance 
 of tliis to 
 the state of 
 Europe. 
 
 A.D. 1477, 
 January 5. 
 
 Views of 
 Louis the 
 eleventh 
 with re- 
 spect to it. 
 
 influence in producing this change in the state of 
 Europe, was the marriage of the daughter of Charles 
 the bold, the sole heiress of the house of Burgundy. 
 For some years before her father's death, she had been 
 considered as the apparent successor to his territories, 
 and Charles had made proposals of marrying her to 
 several different princes, with a view of alluring them, 
 by that offer, to favour the schemes which his restless 
 ambition was continually forming. 
 
 This rendered the alliance with her an object of ge- 
 neral attention; and all the advantages of acquiring pos- 
 session of her territories, the most opulent at that time 
 and the best cultivated of any on this side of the Alps, 
 were perfectly understood. As soon, then, as the un- 
 timely death of Charles opened the succession, the eyes 
 of all the princes in Europe were turned towards Mary, 
 and they felt themselves deeply interested in the choice 
 which she was about to make of the person on whom 
 she would bestow that rich inheritance. 
 
 Louis the eleventh, from whose kingdom several of 
 the provinces which she possessed had been dismember- 
 ed, and whose dominions stretched along the frontier 
 of her territories, had every inducement to court her 
 alliance. He had, likewise, a good title to expect the 
 favourable reception of any reasonable proposition he 
 should make, with respect to the disposal of a princess 
 who was the vassal of his crown, and descended from 
 the royal blood of France. There were only two pro- 
 positions, however, which he could make with propriety. 
 The one was the marriage of the dauphin, the other 
 that of the count Angouelme, a prince of the blood, 
 with the heiress of Burgundy. By the former, he 
 would have annexed all her territories to his crown, 
 and have rendered France at once the most respectable 
 monarchy in Europe. But the great disparity of age 
 between the two parties, Mary being twenty, and the 
 dauphin only eight years old ; the avowed resolution of 
 the Flemings, not to choose a master possessed of such
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 95 
 
 power as might enable him to form schemes dangerous 
 to their liberties ; together with their dread of falling 
 under the odious and oppressive government of Louis, 
 were obstacles in the way of executing this plan, which 
 it was vain to think of surmounting. By the latter, the 
 accomplishment of which might have been attained 
 with ease, Mary having discovered some inclination to 
 a match with the count of Angouleme h , Louis would 
 have prevented the dominions of the house of Burgundy 
 from being conveyed to a rival power; and in return 
 for such a splendid establishment for the count of An- 
 gouleme, he must have obtained, or would have ex- 
 torted from him, concessions highly beneficial to the 
 crown of France. But Louis had been accustomed so 
 long to the intricacies of a crooked and insidious 
 policy, that he could not be satisfied with what was 
 obvious and simple ; and was so fond of artifice and 
 refinement, that he came to consider these rather as an 
 ultimate object, than merely as the means of conduct- 
 ing affairs. From this principle, no less than from his 
 unwillingness to aggrandize any of his own subjects, or 
 from his desire of oppressing the house of Burgundy, 
 which he hated, he neglected the course which a prince 
 less able and artful would have taken, and followed one 
 more suited to his own genius. 
 
 He proposed to render himself, by force of arms, The singu- 
 master of those provinces which Mary held of the la j" C u U u Se 
 crown of France, and even to push his conquests into followed. 
 her other territories, while he amused her with insist- 
 ing continually on the impracticable match with the 
 dauphin. In prosecuting this plan, he displayed won- 
 derful talents and industry, and exhibited such scenes 
 of treachery, falsehood, and cruelty, as are amazing 
 even in the history of Louis the eleventh. Immediately 
 upon the death of Charles, he put his troops in motion, 
 and advanced towards the Netherlands. He corrupted 
 
 ' Mem. de Comines, i. 358.
 
 96 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 the leading men in the provinces of Burgundy and 
 Artois, and seduced them to desert their sovereign. 
 He got admission into some of the frontier towns, by 
 bribing the governors ; the gates of others were opened 
 to him in consequence of his intrigues with the inhabit- 
 ants. He negotiated with Mary; and, in order to ren- 
 der her odious to her subjects, he betrayed to them 
 her most important secrets. He carried on a private 
 correspondence with the two ministers whom she chiefly 
 trusted, and then communicated the letters which he 
 had received from them to the states of Flanders, who, 
 enraged at their perfidy, brought them immediately to 
 trial, tortured them with extreme cruelty, and, un- 
 moved by the tears and entreaties of their sovereign, 
 who knew and approved of all that the ministers had 
 done, they beheaded them in her presence '. 
 The effect While Louis, by this conduct, unworthy of a great 
 marriage * monarch, was securing the possession of Burgundy, 
 ofMaxi- Artois, and the towns on the Somme, the states of 
 
 milian with ^n i i i i 
 
 the heiress * landers carried on a negotiation with the emperor 
 
 f ^fj 111 " Frederic the third, and concluded a treaty of marriage 
 
 1477. between their sovereign and his son, Maximilian, arch- 
 
 duke of Austria. The illustrious birth of that prince, 
 
 as well as the high dignity of which he had the pros- 
 
 pect, rendered the alliance honourable for Mary, while, 
 
 from the distance of his hereditary territories, and the 
 
 scantiness of his revenues, his power was so inconsider- 
 
 able, as did not excite the jealousy or fear of the 
 
 Flemings. 
 
 The influ- Thus Louis, by the caprice of his temper, and the 
 excess f hi s refinements, put the house of Austria in 
 
 th 
 state of possession of this noble inheritance. By this acquisi- 
 
 tion, the foundation of the future grandeur of Charles 
 the fifth was laid ; and he became master of those ter- 
 ritories which enabled him to carry on his most formid- 
 able and decisive operations against France. Thus, 
 
 1 Mem. de Comines, liv. v. chap. 15. p. 309, etc.
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 97 
 
 too, the same monarch who first united the interior 
 force of France, and established it on such a footing as 
 to render it formidable to the rest of Europe, contri- 
 buted, far contrary to his intention, to raise up a rival 
 power, which, during two centuries, has thwarted the 
 measures, opposed the arms, and checked the progress 
 of his successors. 
 
 The next event of consequence in the fifteenth cen- The next 
 tury, was the expedition of Charles the eighth into abiTevent 
 Italy. This occasioned revolutions no less memorable ; was the in- 
 produced alterations, both in the military and political 
 
 system, which were more immediately perceived ; roused Charles the 
 the states of Europe to bolder efforts; and blended a .d. 1494. 
 their affairs and interests more closely together. The The motives 
 mild administration of Charles, a weak but generous of thls ' 
 prince, seems to have revived the spirit and genius of 
 the French nation, which the rigid despotism of Louis 
 the eleventh, his father, had depressed and almost ex- 
 tinguished. The ardour for military service, natural 
 to the French nobility, returned, and their young mo- 
 narch was impatient to distinguish his reign by some 
 splendid enterprise. While he was uncertain towards 
 what quarter he should turn his arms, the solicitations 
 and intrigues of an Italian politician, no less infamous 
 on account of his crimes, than eminent for his abilities, 
 determined his choice. Ludovico Sforza, having formed 
 the design of deposing his nephew the duke of Milan, 
 and of placing himself on the ducal throne, was so 
 much afraid of a combination of the Italian powers to 
 oppose this measure, and to support the injured prince, 
 with whom most of them were connected by blood or 
 alliance, that he saw the necessity of securing the aid 
 of some able protector. The king of France was the 
 person to whom he applied; and without disclosing 
 his own intentions, he laboured to prevail with him to 
 march into Italy, at the head of a powerful army, in 
 order to seize the crown of Naples, to which Charles 
 
 VOL. III. H
 
 98 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. ir. 
 
 His re- 
 sources for 
 this enter- 
 prise. 
 
 His pre- 
 parations 
 for it. 
 
 had pretensions as heir of the house of Anjou. The 
 right to that kingdom, claimed by the Angevin family, 
 had been conveyed to Louis the eleventh, by Charles 
 of Anjou, count of Maine and Provence. But that sa- 
 gacious monarch, though he took immediate possession 
 of those territories of which Charles was really master, 
 totally disregarded his ideal title to a kingdom, over 
 which another prince reigned in tranquillity ; and uni- 
 formly declined involving himself in the labyrinth of 
 Italian politics. His son, more adventurous, or more 
 inconsiderate, embarked eagerly in this enterprise; 
 and, contemning all the remonstrances of his most ex- 
 perienced counsellors, prepared to carry it on with the 
 utmost vigour. 
 
 The power which Charles possessed was so great, 
 that he reckoned himself equal to this arduous under- 
 taking. His father had transmitted to him such an 
 ample prerogative, as gave him the entire command of 
 his kingdom. He himself had added considerably to 
 the extent of his dominions, by his prudent marriage 
 with the heiress of Bretagne, which rendered him 
 master of that province, the last of the great fiefs that 
 remained to be annexed to the crown. He soon assem- 
 bled forces which he thought sufficient ; and so impa- 
 tient was he to enter on his career as a conqueror, 
 that, sacrificing what was real for what was chimerical, 
 he restored Rousillon to Ferdinand, and gave up part 
 of his father's acquisitions in Artois to Maximilian, with 
 a view of inducing these princes not to molest France, 
 while he was carrying on his operations in Italy. 
 
 But so different were the efforts of the states of Eu- 
 rope in the fifteenth century, from those which we shall 
 behold in the course of this history, that the army with 
 which Charles undertook this great enterprise, did not 
 exceed twenty thousand men. The train of artillery, 
 however, the ammunition and warlike stores of every 
 kind provided for its use, were so considerable as to
 
 SECT. ir. STATE OF EUROPE. 99 
 
 bear some resemblance to the immense apparatus of 
 modern war k . 
 
 When the French entered Italy, they met with no- its success. 
 thing able to resist them. The Italian powers having 
 remained, during a long period, undisturbed by the in- 
 vasion of any foreign enemy, had formed a system with 
 respect to their affairs, both in peace and war, peculiar 
 to themselves. In order to adjust the interests, and ba- 
 lance the power of the different states into which Italy 
 was divided, they were engaged in perpetual and end- 
 less negotiations with each other, which they conducted 
 with all the subtlety of a refining and deceitful policy. 
 Their contests in the field, when they had recourse to 
 arms, were decided in mock battles, by innocent and 
 bloodless victories. Upon the first appearance of the 
 danger which now impended, they had recourse to the 
 arts which they had studied, and employed their ut- 
 most skill in intrigue in order to avert it. But this 
 proving ineffectual, their bands of effeminate mercena- 
 ries, the only military force that remained in the coun- 
 try, being fit only for the parade of service, were terri- 
 fied at the aspect of real war, and shrunk at its approach. 
 The impetuosity of the French valour appeared to 
 them irresistible. Florence, Pisa, and Rome, opened 
 their gates as the French army advanced. The pros- 
 pect of this dreadful invasion struck one king of Na- 
 ples with such panic terrour, that he died, if we may 
 believe historians, of the fright. Another abdicated 
 his throne from the same pusillanimous spirit. A third 
 fled out of his dominions, as soon as the enemy ap- 
 peared on the Neapolitan frontiers. Charles, after 
 marching thither from the bottom of the Alps, with as 
 much rapidity, and almost as little opposition, as if he 
 had been on a progress through his own dominions, 
 took quiet possession of the throne of Naples, and in- 
 timidated or gave law to every power in Italy. 
 
 , Hist. torn. ii. 777. 
 
 I! 2
 
 100 A VIEW OF THE SECT. 11. 
 
 Its effects, Such was the conclusion of an expedition, that must 
 uTgi'ving 1 y b e considered as the first great exertion of those new 
 
 rise to the powers which the princes of Europe had acquired, and 
 system con- T ~, , 
 
 cerning a now began to exercise. Its effects were no less consi- 
 baiance of d era bl e than its success had been astonishing. The 
 
 power. c 
 
 Italians, unable to resist the impression of the enemy, 
 
 who broke in upon them, permitted him to hold on his 
 course undisturbed. They quickly perceived that no 
 single power, which they could rouse to action, was an 
 equal match for a monarch who ruled over such exten- 
 sive territories, and was at the head of such a martial 
 people ; but that a confederacy might accomplish what 
 the separate members of it durst not attempt. To this 
 expedient, the only one that remained to deliver or to 
 preserve them from the yoke, they had recourse. 
 While Charles inconsiderately wasted his time at Na- 
 ples in festivals and triumphs on account of his past 
 successes, or was fondly dreaming of future conquests 
 in the east, to the empire of which he now aspired, 
 they formed against him a powerful combination of 
 almost all the Italian states, supported by the emperor 
 Maximilian, and Ferdinand king of Aragon. The 
 union of so many powers, who suspended or forgot all 
 their particular animosities, that they might act in con- 
 cert against an enemy who had become formidable to 
 them all, awakened Charles from his thoughtless security. 
 He saw now no prospect of safety but in returning to 
 France. An army of thirty thousand men, assembled 
 by the allies, was ready to obstruct his march; and 
 though the French, with a daring courage, which more 
 than countervailed their inferiority in number, broke 
 through that great body, and gained a victory, which 
 opened to their monarch a safe passage into his own 
 territories, he was stripped of all his conquests in Italy 
 in as short a time as it had taken to acquire them ; and 
 the political system in that country resumed the same 
 appearance as before his invasion. 
 
 The sudden and decisive effect of this confederacy,
 
 SECT. H. STATE OF EUROPE. 101 
 
 / 
 
 seems to have instructed the princes and statesmen of This be- 
 Italy as much as the irruption of the French had dis- ^"objec 
 concerted and alarmed them. They had extended, on of policy, 
 this occasion, to the affairs of Europe, the maxims of i ta iy, and 
 
 that political science which had hitherto been applied then la Eu " 
 
 , rope- 
 only to regulate the operations o; the petty states in 
 
 their own country. They had discovered the method of 
 preventing any monarch from rising to such a degree 
 of power, as was inconsistent with the general liberty, 
 and had manifested the importance of attending to that 
 great secret in modern policy, the preservation of a 
 proper distribution of power among all the members of 
 the system into which the states of Europe are formed. 
 During all the wars of which Italy from that time was 
 the theatre, and amidst the hostile operations which 
 the imprudence of Louis the twelfth, and the ambition 
 of Ferdinand of Aragon carried on in that country, 
 witli little interruption, from the close of the fifteenth 
 century to that period at which the subsequent history 
 commences, the maintaining a proper balance of power 
 between the contending parties, became the great ob- 
 ject of attention to the statesmen of Italy. Nor was 
 the idea confined to them. Self-preservation taught 
 other powers to adopt it. It grew to be fashionable 
 and universal. From this aera we can trace the pro- 
 gress of that intercourse between nations, which has 
 linked the powers of Europe so closely together, and 
 can discern the operations of that provident policy, 
 which, during peace, guards against remote and con- 
 tingent dangers; and, in war, has prevented rapid and 
 destructive conquests. 
 
 This was not the only effect of the operations which The wan 
 the great powers of Europe carried on in Italy. They ^ 
 contributed to render general such a change, as the standing 
 French had begun to make in the state of their troops, 
 and obliged all the princes who appeared on this new 
 theatre of action, to put the military force of their 
 kingdoms on an establishment similar to that of France.
 
 102 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 When the seat of war came to be remote from the 
 countries which maintained the contest, the service of 
 the feudal vassals ceased to be of any use ; and the ne- 
 cessity of employing soldiers regularly trained to arms, 
 and kept in constant pay, came at once to be evident. 
 When Charles the eighth marched into Italy, his ca- 
 valry was entirely composed of those companies of gen- 
 darmes, embodied by Charles the seventh, and conti- 
 nued by Louis the eleventh ; his infantry consisted 
 partly of Swiss, hired of the cantons, and partly of 
 Gascons, armed and disciplined after the Swiss model. 
 To these Louis the twelfth added a body of Germans, 
 well known in the wars of Italy by the name of the ' black 
 bands.' But neither of these monarchs made any ac- 
 count of the feudal militia, or ever had recourse to that 
 military force, which they might have commanded in 
 virtue of the ancient institutions in their kingdom. 
 Maximilian and Ferdinand, as soon as they 'began to 
 act in Italy, employed similar instruments, and trusted 
 the execution of their plans entirely to mercenary troops, 
 teach the This innovation in the military system was quickly 
 Europeans followed by another, which the custom of employing 
 rior im- Swiss in the Italian wars was the occasion of introduc- 
 ing. The arms and discipline of the Swiss were dif- 
 ferent from those of other European nations. During 
 their long and violent struggles in defence of their 
 liberties against the house of Austria, whose armies, 
 like those of other considerable princes, consisted 
 chiefly of heavy-armed cavalry, the Swiss found that 
 their poverty, and the small number of gentlemen re- 
 siding in their country, at that time barren and ill cul- 
 tivated, put it out of their power to bring into the field 
 any body of horse capable of facing the enemy. Ne- 
 cessity compelled them to place all their confidence in 
 infantry; and, in order to render it capable of with- 
 standing the shock of cavalry, they gave the soldiers 
 breastplates and helmets, as defensive armour, together 
 with long spears, halberts, and heavy swords, as wea-
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 103 
 
 pons of offence. They formed them into large batta- 
 lions, ranged in deep and close array, so that they 
 could present on every side a formidable front to the 
 enemy 1 . The men at arms could make no impression 
 on the solid strength of such a body. It repulsed the 
 Austrians in all their attempts to conquer Swisserland. 
 It broke the Burgundian gendarmerie, which was 
 scarcely inferior to that of France, either in number or 
 reputation ; and when first called to act in Italy, it bore 
 down, by its irresistible force, every enemy that at- 
 tempted to oppose it. These repeated proofs of the 
 decisive effect of infantry, exhibited on such conspi- 
 cuous occasions, restored that service to reputation, and 
 gradually reestablished the opinion, which had been 
 long exploded, of its superior importance in the ope- 
 rations of war. But the glory which the Swiss had ac- 
 quired having inspired them with such high ideas of their 
 own prowess and consequence as frequently rendered 
 them mutinous and insolent, the princes who employed 
 them became weary of depending on the caprice of 
 foreign mercenaries, and began to turn their attention 
 towards the improvement of their national infantry. 
 
 The German powers, having the command of men Rational 
 whom nature has endowed with that steady courage mfa Pj^. 
 and persevering strength which form them to be sol- ed in Ger- 
 diers, soon modelled their troops hi such a manner, that many ' 
 they vied with the Swiss, both in discipline and valour. 
 
 The French monarchs, though more slowly, and with in France; 
 greater difficulty, accustomed the impetuous spirit of 
 their people to subordination and discipline ; and were 
 at such pains to render their national infantry respect- 
 ublr, that, as early as the reign of Louis the twelfth, 
 several gentlemen of high rank had so far abandoned 
 thr'ir ancient ideas, as to condescend to enter into that 
 so i- \ ice m . 
 
 1 M.u luavel'* Art of War, b. ii. chap. ii. p. 451. 
 
 * Brantome, torn. x. p. 18. Mem. de Flcuranges, 143.
 
 101 A VIEW OF THE SECT. ir. 
 
 in Spain. The Spaniards, whose situation made it difficult to 
 employ any other than their national troops in the 
 southern parts of Italy, which was the chief scene of 
 their operations in that country, not only adopted the 
 Swiss discipline, but improved upon it, by mingling a 
 proper number of soldiers, armed with heavy muskets, 
 in their battalions ; and thus formed that famous body 
 of infantry, which, during a century and a half, was the 
 admiration and terrour of all Europe. The Italian 
 states gradually diminished the number of their cavalry, 
 and, in imitation of their more powerful neighbours, 
 brought the strength of their armies to consist in foot 
 soldiers. From this period the nations of Europe have 
 carried on war with forces more adapted to every 
 species of service, more capable of acting in every 
 country, and better fitted, both for making conquests, 
 and for preserving them. 
 
 The Ita- As their efforts in Italy led the people of Europe to 
 
 han wars ^ ese improvements in the art of w r ar, they gave them 
 occasion an 
 
 increase of likewise the first idea of the expense with which it is 
 revenues' accompanied when extensive or of long continuance, 
 in Europe, and accustomed every nation to the burthen of such 
 impositions as are necessary for supporting it. While 
 the feudal policy subsisted in full vigour, while armies 
 were composed of military vassals, called forth to attack 
 some neighbouring power, and to perform, in a short 
 campaign, the services which they owed to their sove- 
 reign, the expense of war was extremely moderate. A 
 small subsidy enabled a prince to begin and to finish 
 his greatest military operations. But when Italy be- 
 came the theatre on which the powers of Europe con- 
 tended for superiority, the preparations requisite for 
 such a distant expedition, the pay of armies kept con- 
 stantly on foot, their subsistence in a foreign country, 
 the sieges to be undertaken, and the towns to be de- 
 fended, swelled the charges of war immensely, and, by 
 creating demands unknown in less active times, multi- 
 plied taxes in every kingdom. The progress of ambi-
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 105 
 
 tion, however, was so rapid, and princes extended their 
 operations so fast, that it was impossible at first to esta- 
 blish funds proportional to the increase of expense 
 which these occasioned. When Charles the eighth 
 invaded Naples, the sums requisite for carrying on that 
 enterprise so far exceeded those which France had 
 been accustomed to contribute for the support of go- 
 vernment, that before he reached the frontiers of Italy, 
 his treasury was exhausted, and the domestic resources, 
 of which his extensive prerogative gave him the com- 
 mand, were at an end. As he durst not venture to lay 
 any new imposition on his people, oppressed already 
 with the weight of unusual burthens, the only expe- 
 dient that remained was, to borrow of the Genoese as 
 much money as might enable him to continue his 
 march. But he could not obtain a sufficient'sum, with- 
 out consenting to pay annually the exorbitant interest 
 of forty-two livres for every hundred that he received . 
 We may observe the same disproportion between the 
 efforts and revenues of other princes, his contempora- 
 ries. From this period, taxes went on increasing ; and 
 during the reign of Charles the fifth such sums were 
 levied in every state, as would have appeared enormous 
 at the close of the fifteenth century, and gradually 
 prepared the way for the still more exorbitant exac- 
 tions of modern times. 
 
 The last transaction, previous to the reign of Charles The league 
 the fifth, that merits attention, on account of its influ- of c mb . ra y 
 
 another im- 
 
 ence upon the state of Europe, is the league of Cam- porunt oc- 
 bray. To humble the republic of Venice, and to Cl 
 divide its territories, was the object of all the powers 
 who united in this confederacy. The civil constitution 
 of Venice, established on a firm basis, had suffered no 
 considerable alteration for several centuries ; during 
 which, the senate conducted its affairs by maxims of 
 policy no less prudent than vigorous, and adhered to 
 
 " Mem. dc Comincs, lib. vii. c. 5. p. 440.
 
 106 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 these with an uniform consistent spirit, which gave that 
 comm nwenlth great advantage over other states, whose 
 views and measures changed as often as the form of 
 their government, or the persons who administered it. 
 By these unintermitted exertions of wisdom and valour, 
 the Venetians enlarged the dominions of their common- 
 wealth, until it became the most considerable power in 
 Italy ; while their extensive commerce, the useful and 
 curious manufactures which they carried on, together 
 with the large share which they had acquired of the 
 lucrative commerce with the east, rendered Venice the 
 most opulent state in Europe. 
 
 the motives The power of the Venetians was the object of ter- 
 ofit. rour to their Italian neighbours. Their wealth was 
 
 viewed with envy by the greatest monarchs, who could 
 not vie with many of their private citizens in the mag- 
 nificence of their buildings, in the richness of their 
 dress and furniture, or in splendour and elegance of 
 living . Julius the second, whose ambition was supe- 
 rior, and his abilities equal, to those of any pontiff who 
 ever sat on the papal throne, conceived the idea of 
 this league against the Venetians, and endeavoured, by 
 applying to those passions which I have mentioned, to 
 persuade other princes to join in it. By working upon 
 the fears of the Italian powers, and upon the avarice of 
 several monarchs beyond the Alps, he induced them, in 
 concurrence with other causes, which it is not my 
 province to explain, to form one of the most powerful 
 confederacies that Europe had ever beheld, against 
 those haughty republicans. 
 
 The rapid The emperor, the king of France, the king of Ara- 
 progress of g O n, and the pope, were principals in the league of 
 derates. Cambray, to which almost all the princes of- Italy ac- 
 ceded, the least considerable of them hoping for some 
 share in the spoils of a state, which they deemed to be 
 now devoted to destruction. The Venetians might 
 
 Heliani oratio apud Goldastum in polit. imperial, p. 980.
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 107 
 
 have diverted this storm, or have broken its force; but 
 with a presumptuous rashness, to which there is nothing 
 similar in the course of their history, they waited its 
 approach. The impetuous valour of the French ren- 
 dered ineffectual all their precautions for the safety of 
 the republic ; and the fatal battle of Ghiarraddada 
 entirely ruined the army, on which they relied for 
 defence. Julius seized all the towns which they held 
 in the ecclesiastical territories. Ferdinand reannexed 
 the towns of which they had got possession on the coast 
 of Calabria, to his Neapolitan dominions. Maximilian, at 
 the head of a powerful army, advanced towards Venice 
 on the one side : the French pushed their conquests 
 on the other. The Venetians, surrounded by so many 
 enemies, and left without one ally, sunk from the height 
 of presumption to the depths of despair ; abandoned 
 all their territories on the continent; and shut them- 
 selves up in their capital, as their last refuge, and the 
 only place which they hoped to preserve. 
 
 This rapid success, however, proved fatal to the con- Division 
 federacy. The members of it, whose union continued 
 while they were engaged in seizing their prey, began 
 to feel their ancient jealousies and animosities revive, 
 mi as they had a prospect of dividing it. When 
 the Venetians observed these symptoms of distrust and 
 alienation, a ray of hope broke in upon them; the 
 >|)irit natural to their councils returned; they resumed 
 such wisdom and firmness, as made some atonement 
 for their former imprudence and dejection ; they re- 
 ro\ ered part of the territory which they had lost ; they 
 appeased the pope and Ferdinand by well-timed con- 
 1 ms in their favour; and, at length, dissolved the 
 confederacy, which had brought their commonwealth 
 to the brink of ruin. 
 
 Julius, elated with beholding the effects of a New ob- 
 league which he himself had planned, and imagining -jj^ of jic 
 that nothing was too arduous for him to undertake, and am- 
 conceived the idea of expelling every foreign power '
 
 108 A VIEW OF THE SECT. n. 
 
 out of Italy, and bent all the force of his mind towards 
 executing a scheme so well suited to his enterprising 
 genius. He directed his first attack against the French, 
 who, on many accounts, were more odious to the 
 Italians, than any of the foreigners who had acquired 
 dominion in their country. By his activity and address, 
 he prevailed on most of the powers, who had joined in 
 the league of Cambray, to turn their arms against the 
 king of France, their former ally ; and engaged Henry 
 the eighth, who had lately ascended the throne of Eng- 
 land, to favour their operations, by invading France. 
 Louis the twelfth resisted all the efforts of this formid- 
 able and unexpected confederacy with undaunted forti- 
 tude. Hostilities were carried on, during several cam- 
 
 ' O 
 
 paigns, in Italy, on the frontiers of Spain, and in 
 Picardy, with alternate success. Exhausted, at length, 
 by the variety as well as extent of his operations ; un- 
 able to withstand a confederacy which brought against 
 him superior force, conducted with wisdom and acting 
 with perseverance, Louis found it necessary to conclude 
 separate treaties of peace with his enemies ; and the 
 war terminated with the loss of every thing which the 
 French had acquired in Italy, except the castle of 
 Milan, and a few inconsiderable towns in that duchy. 
 By this the The various negotiations carried on during this busy 
 amono-uTe P er id, an d the different combinations formed among 
 European powers hitherto little connected with each other, great- 
 ty increased that intercourse among the nations of 
 
 creases. 
 
 Europe, which I have mentioned as one effect of the 
 
 events in the fifteenth century ; while the greatness of 
 
 the objects at which different nations aimed, the distant 
 
 expeditions which they undertook as well as the length 
 
 and obstinacy of the contest in which they engaged, 
 
 obliged them to exert themselves with a vigour and 
 
 perseverance unknown in the preceding ages. 
 
 They are Those active scenes which the following history will 
 
 prepared exhibit, as well as the variety and importance of those 
 
 for the . . . , , . . 
 
 transactions transactions which distinguish the period to which it
 
 SECT. ii. STATE OF EUROPE. 109 
 
 extends, are not to be ascribed solely to the ambition, O f the six- 
 
 to the abilities, or to the rivalship of Charles the fifth teenth cen ' 
 
 tury. 
 
 and of Francis the first. The kingdoms of Europe had 
 arrived at such a degree of improvement in the internal 
 administration of government, and princes had acquired 
 such command of the national force which was to be 
 exerted in foreign wars, that they were in a condition 
 to enlarge the sphere of their operations, to multiply 
 their claims and pretensions, and to increase the vigour 
 of their efforts. Accordingly the sixteenth century 
 opened with the certain prospect of its abounding in 
 great and interesting events.
 
 A VIEW 
 
 OF 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY 
 IN EUROPE, 
 
 FROM THE SUBVERSION OP THE ROMAN EMPIRE TO THE 
 BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 THE THIRD SECTION. 
 
 VIEW OF THE POLITICAL CONSTITUTION OF THE PRINCI- 
 PAL STATES IN EUROPE, AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF 
 THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 HAVING thus enumerated the principal causes and 
 events, the influence of which was felt in every part of 
 Europe, and contributed either to improve internal 
 
 A consi- 
 derable 
 variety in 
 the con- 
 
 of the dif- order and police in its various states, or to enlarge the 
 ferent na- sphere of their activity, by giving them more entire 
 Europe. command of the force with which foreign operations 
 are carried on; nothing farther seems requisite for 
 preparing my readers to enter, with full information, 
 upon perusing the history of Charles the fifth, but to 
 give a view of the political constitution and form of 
 civil government in each of the nations which acted 
 any considerable part during that period. For as the 
 institutions and events, which I have endeavoured to 
 illustrate, formed the people of Europe to resemble 
 each other, and conducted them from barbarism to re- 
 finement, in the same path, and by nearly equal steps ;
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. Ill 
 
 there were other circumstances which occasioned a dif- 
 ference in their political establishments, and gave rise 
 to those peculiar modes of government, which have 
 produced such variety in the character and genius of 
 nations. 
 
 It is no less necessary to become acquainted with the Necessary 
 latter, than to have contemplated the former. Without S/sjJjJof 
 a distinct knowledge of the peculiar form and genius of each when 
 civil government in each state, a great part of its trans- fifthVegan 6 
 actions must appear altogether mysterious and inex- hls rei s n - 
 plicable. The historians of particular countries, as 
 they seldom extended their views farther than to the 
 amusement or instruction of their fellow-citizens, by 
 whom they might presume that all their domestic cus- 
 toms and institutions were perfectly understood, have 
 often neglected to descend into such details with re- 
 spect to these, as are sufficient to convey to foreigners 
 full light and information concerning the occurrences 
 which they relate. But a history, which comprehends 
 the transactions of so many different countries, Would 
 be extremely imperfect, without a previous survey of 
 the constitution and political state of each. It is from 
 his knowledge of these, that the reader must draw 
 those principles, which will enable him to judge with 
 dix-ernment, and to decide with certainty, concerning 
 the conduct of nations. 
 
 A minute detail, however, of the peculiar forms and 
 regulations in every country, would lead to deductions 
 of immeasurable length. To sketch out the great lines 
 which distinguish and characterize each government, 
 is all that the nature of my present work will admit of, 
 and all that is necessary to illustrate the events which 
 it records. 
 
 At the opening of the sixteenth century, the political The state 
 aspect of Italy was extremely different from that of 
 any other part of Europe. Instead of those extensive 
 monarchies, which occupied the rest of the continent, 
 that delightful country was parcelled out among many
 
 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 small states, each of which possessed sovereign and 
 independent jurisdiction. The only monarchy in Italy 
 was that of Naples. The dominion of the popes was 
 of a peculiar species, to which there is nothing similar 
 either in ancient or modern times. In Venice, Flo- 
 rence, and Genoa, a republican form of government 
 was established. Milan was subject to sovereigns, who 
 had assumed no higher title than that of dukes. 
 The papal The pope was the first of these powers in dignity, 
 dignity the j not tne j east considerable by the extent of his ter- 
 
 highest in i i i T /> 
 
 Europe. ritories. In the primitive church, the jurisdiction ot 
 bishops was equal and coordinate. They derived, per- 
 haps, some degree of consideration from the dignity of 
 the see in which they presided. They possessed, how- 
 ever, no real authority or preeminence, but what they 
 Origin and acquired by superior abilities, or superior sanctity. As 
 progress of R ome h a j so l on g been the seat of empire, and the 
 power. capital of the world, its bishops were on that account 
 entitled to respect; they received it; but during se- 
 veral ages they received, and even claimed, nothing 
 more. From these humble beginnings, they advanced 
 with such adventurous and well-directed ambition, that 
 they established a spiritual dominion over the minds 
 and sentiments of men, to which all Europe submitted 
 with implicit obedience. Their claim of universal ju- 
 risdiction, as heads of the church, and their preten- 
 sions to infallibility in their decisions, as successors of 
 St. Peter, are as chimerical, as they are repugnant to 
 the genius of the Christian religion. But on these 
 foundations the superstition and credulity of mankind 
 enabled them to erect an amazing superstructure. In 
 all ecclesiastical controversies, their decisions were re- 
 ceived as the infallible oracles of truth. Nor was the 
 plenitude of their power confined solely to what was 
 spiritual; they dethroned monarchs ; disposed of crowns; 
 absolved subjects from the obedience due to their sove- 
 reigns; and laid kingdoms under interdicts. There 
 was not a state in Europe which had not been dis-
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 1 13 
 
 quieted by their ambition. There was not a throne 
 which they had not shaken ; nor a prince who did not 
 tremble at their power. 
 
 Nothing was wanting to render this empire absolute, The terri- 
 and to establish it on the ruins of all civil authority, ' nes of 
 
 * ' the popes 
 
 but that the popes should have possessed such a cle- inadequate 
 gree of temporal power, as was sufficient to second and 
 
 enforce their spiritual decrees. Happily for mankind, ritual ju- 
 at the time when their spiritual jurisdiction was most 
 extensive and most revered, their secular dominion 
 was extremely limited. They were powerful pontiffs, 
 formidable at a distance ; but they were petty princes, 
 without any considerable domestic force. They had 
 early endeavoured, indeed, to acquire territory by arts 
 similar to those which they had employed in extending 
 their spiritual jurisdiction. Under pretence of a dona- 
 tion from Constantine, and of another from Charle- 
 magne or his father Pepin, they attempted to take pos- 
 session of some towns adjacent to Home. But these 
 donations were fictitious, and availed them little. The 
 benefactions, for which they were indebted to the cre- 
 dulity of the Norman adventurers, who conquered Na- 
 ples, and to the superstition of the countess Matilda, 
 were real, and added ample domains to the holy see. 
 
 But the power of the popes did not increase in pro- Their au- 
 portion to the extent of territory which they had ac- ^"["own 
 quired. In the dominions annexed to the holy see, as territories 
 well as in those subject to other princes in Italy, the limited? ^ 
 sovereign of a state was far from having the command 
 of the force which it contained. During the turbu- 
 lence and confusion of the middle ages, the powerful 
 nobility, or leaders of popular factions in Italy, had 
 M-i/i'd the government of different towns; and, after 
 stn Mjjtlieiiing their fortifications, and taking a body of 
 mem-Marie* into pay, they aspired at independence. 
 The territory which the church had gained was filled 
 with petty lords of this kind, who left the pope hardly 
 tin- shadow of domestic authority. 
 
 VOL. III. I
 
 lit A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 Itwucir- As these usurpations almost annihilated the papal 
 cumscribed p Ower j n tne greater part of the towns subject to the 
 bJtionYfThe church, the Roman barons frequently disputed the 
 herons" authority of the popes, even in Rome itself. In the 
 twelfth century an opinion began to be propagated, 
 " That as the function of ecclesiastics was purely spi- 
 ritual, they ought to possess no property, and to claim 
 no temporal jurisdiction; but, according to the laud- 
 able example of their predecessors in the primitive 
 church, should subsist wholly upon their tithes, or 
 upon the voluntary oblations of the people 1 '." This 
 doctrine being addressed to men, who had beheld the 
 scandalous manner in which the avarice and ambition 
 of the clergy had prompted them to contend for wealth, 
 and to exercise power, they listened to it with fond 
 attention. The Roman barons, who had felt most 
 sensibly the rigour of ecclesiastical oppression, adopted 
 these sentiments with such ardour, that they set them- 
 A.D. 1143. selves instantly to shake off the yoke. They endea- 
 voured to restore some image of their ancient liberty, 
 by reviving the institution of the Roman senate, in 
 which they vested supreme authority ; committing the 
 executive power sometimes to one chief senator, some- 
 times to two, and sometimes to a magistrate dignified 
 with the name of ' the patrician.' The popes exerted 
 themselves with vigour, in order to check this danger- 
 ous encroachment on their jurisdiction. One of them, 
 finding all his endeavours ineffectual, was so much 
 mortified, that extreme grief cut short his days. An- 
 other, having ventured to attack the senators, at the 
 head of some armed men, was mortally wounded in the 
 fray q . During a considerable period, the power of 
 the popes, before which the greatest monarchs in Eu- 
 rope trembled, was circumscribed within such narrow 
 limits in their own capital, that they durst hardly exert 
 
 P Otto Frisingensis dc Gestis Frider. Imp. lib. ii. cap. 10. 
 fl Otto Prising. Chron. lib. vii. cap. 27. 31. Id. de Gest. Frid. lib.i. c. 27. 
 Muratori, Annali d'ltalia, vol. ix. 398. 404.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 115 
 
 any act of authority, without the permission and con- 
 currence of the senate. 
 
 Encroachments were made upon the papal sove- and by the 
 reignty, not only by the usurpations of the Roman no- ^ r th g ^" 
 bility, but by the mutinous spirit of the people. Dur- m *n peo- 
 ing seventy years of the fourteenth century, the popes a.d.Tsos 
 fixed their residence in Avignon. The inhabitants of toa.d. 1377. 
 Rome, accustomed to consider themselves as the de- 
 scendants of the people who had conquered the world, 
 and had given laws to it, were too high-spirited to sub- 
 mit with patience to the delegated authority of those 
 persons to whom the popes committed the government 
 of the city. On many occasions, they opposed the exe- 
 cution of the papal mandates, and on the slightest ap- 
 pearance of innovation or oppression, they were ready 
 to take arms in defence of their own immunities. To- 
 wards the middle of the fourteenth century, being in- 
 stigated by Nicolas Rienzo, a man of low birth and 
 a seditious spirit, but of popular eloquence, and an en- 
 terprising ambition, they drove all the nobility out of 
 the city, established a democratical form of govern- 
 ment, elected Rienzo tribune of the people, and in- 
 vested him with extensive authority. But though the 
 frantic proceedings of the tribune soon overturned this 
 new system ; though the government of Rome was re- 
 instated in its ancient form ; yet every fresh attack 
 contributed to weaken the papal jurisdiction : and the 
 turbulence of the people concurred with the spirit of 
 independence among the nobility, in circumscribing it 
 more and more r . Gregory the seventh, and other 
 domineering pontiffs accomplished those great things 
 which rendered them so formidable to the emperors 
 with whom they contended, not by the force of their 
 arms, or by the extent of their power, but by the 
 
 ' Hisloire Florentine de Giov. Villani, liv. xii. c. 89. 104. ap. Murat. 
 Script. Rerum ItaJ. vol. xiii. Vita di Cola di Rienzo, ap. Murat. Antiq. 
 Ital. vol. iii. p. 399, etc. Hist, de Nic. Rienzy, par M. de Boispr6aux, 
 p. 91, etc.
 
 116 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. in. 
 
 Alexander 
 the seventh 
 and Julius 
 the second 
 render the 
 popes con- 
 siderable 
 princes. 
 
 Defects in 
 the nature 
 of ecclesi- 
 astical do- 
 minion. 
 
 dread of their spiritual censures, and by the effect of 
 tlu-ir intrigues, which excited rivals, and called forth 
 enemies against every prince whom they wished to de- 
 press or to destroy. 
 
 Many attempts were made by the popes, not only to 
 humble those usurpers, who lorded it over the cities 
 in the ecclesiastu-al state, but to break the turbulent 
 spirit of the Roman people. These were long unsuc- 
 cessful. But, at last, Alexander the sixth, with a po- 
 licy no less artful than flagitious, subdued or extirpated 
 most of the great Roman barons, and rendered the 
 popes masters of their own dominions. The enter- 
 prising ambition of Julius the second, added conquests 
 of no inconsiderable value to the patrimony of St. Peter. 
 Thus the popes, by degrees, became powerful temporal 
 princes. Their territories, in the age of Charles the 
 fifth, were of greater extent than at present; their 
 country seems to have been better cultivated, as well 
 as more populous; and, as they drew large contribu- 
 tions from every part of Europe, their revenues far ex- 
 ceeded those of the neighbouring powers, and rendered 
 them capable of more sudden and vigorous efforts. 
 
 The genius of the papal government, however, was 
 better adapted to the exercise of spiritual dominion, 
 than of temporal power. With respect to the for- 
 mer, all its maxims were steady and invariable. Every 
 new pontiff adopted the plan of his predecessor. By 
 education and habit, ecclesiastics were so formed, that 
 the character of the individual was sunk in that of the 
 profession; and the passions of the man were sacrificed 
 to the interest and honour of the order. The hands 
 which held the reins of administration might change; 
 but the spirit which conducted them was always the 
 same. While the measures of other governments fluc- 
 tuated, and the objects at which they aimed varied, the 
 church kept one end in view ; and to this unrelaxing 
 roiistaiiey of pursuit, it was indebted for its success in 
 the boldest attempts ever made by human ambition.
 
 SECT. HI. STATE OF EUROPE. 117 
 
 But in their civil administration, the popes followed 
 no such uniform or consistent plan. There, as in other 
 governments, the character, the passions, and the inte- 
 rest of the person who had the supreme direction of 
 affairs, occasioned a variation, both in objects and mea- 
 sures. As few prelates reached the summit of ecclesi- 
 astical dignity until they were far advanced in life, a 
 change of masters was more frequent in the papal do- 
 minions than in other states, and the political system 
 was, of course, less stable and permanent. Every pope 
 was eager to make the most of the short period during 
 which he had the prospect of enjoying power, in order 
 to aggrandize his own family, and to attain his private 
 ends ; and it was often the first business of his successor 
 to undo all that he had done, and to overturn what he 
 had established. 
 
 As ecclesiastics were trained to pacific arts, and early 
 initiated in the mysteries of that policy by which the 
 court of Rome extended or supported its spiritual do- 
 minion, the popes in the conduct of their temporal af- 
 fairs were apt to follow the same maxims, and, in all 
 their measures, were more ready to employ the refine- 
 ments of intrigue than the force of arms. It was in the 
 papal court that address and subtlety in negotiation 
 became a science ; arid during the sixteenth century, 
 Koine was considered as the school in which it might 
 be best acquired. 
 
 As the decorum of their ecclesiastical character pre- 
 vented the popes from placing themselves at the head 
 of their armies, or from taking the command, in per- 
 son, of the military force in their dominions, they were 
 afraid to arm their subjects ; and in all their operations, 
 whether offensive or defensive, they trusted entirely to 
 mercenary troops. 
 
 As their power and dominions could not descend to 
 their posterity, the popes were less solicitous than other 
 princes to form or to encourage schemes of public 
 utility and improvement. Their tenure was only for a
 
 118 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 short life; present advantage was what they chiefly 
 vtmlird; to squeeze and to amass, rather thaafo me- 
 liorate, was their object. They erected, perhaps, some 
 work of ostentation, to remain as a monument of 
 their pontificate; they found it necessary, at some 
 limes, to establish useful institutions, in order to sooth 
 and silence the turbulent populace of Rome; but plans 
 of general benefit to their subjects, framed with a view 
 to futurity, were rarely objects of attention in the papal 
 policy. The patrimony of St. Peter was worse go- 
 verned than any part of Europe ; and though a gener- 
 ous pontiff might suspend for a little, or counteract 
 the effects of those vices which are peculiar to the 
 administration of ecclesiastics the disease not only 
 remained without remedy, but has gone on increasing 
 from age to age ; and the decline of the state has kept 
 pace with its progress. 
 
 The popes One circumstance, farther, concerning the papal go- 
 adv'antT'es vernment > * s so singular as to merit attention. As the 
 from the spiritual supremacy and temporal power were united in 
 their spi- one person, and uniformly aided each other in their 
 ritual and operations, they became so blended together, that it 
 
 temporal ' J 
 
 authority, was difficult to separate them, even in imagination. 
 The potentates, who found it necessary to oppose the 
 measures which the popes pursued as temporal princes, 
 could not easily divest themselves of the reverence 
 which they imagined to be due to them as heads of the 
 church, and vicars of Jesus Christ. It was with reluc- 
 tance that they could be brought to a rupture with the 
 head of the church ; they were unwilling to push their 
 operations against him to extremity; they listened 
 eagerly to the first overtures of accommodation, and 
 were anxious to procure it almost upon any terms. 
 Their consciousness of this encouraged the enterprising 
 pontiffs, who filled the papal throne about the begin- 
 ning of the sixteenth century, to engage in schemes 
 seemingly the most extravagant. They trusted, that if 
 their temporal power was not sufficient to carry them
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 119 
 
 through with success, the respect paid to their spiritual 
 dignity would enable them to extricate themselves with 
 facility and with honour 5 . But when popes came to 
 take part more frequently in the contests among princes, 
 and to engage as principals or auxiliaries in every war 
 kindled in Europe, this veneration for their sacred cha- 
 racter began to abate ; and striking instances will occur 
 in the following History of its being almost totally ex- 
 tinct. 
 
 Of all the Italian powers, the republic of Venice, Constltu- 
 next to the papal see, was most connected with the rest 
 
 of Europe. The rise of that commonwealth, during Venice 
 the inroads of the Huns in the fifth century ; the sin- r ; se an d 
 gular situation of its capital in the small isles of the P r g ress - 
 Adriatic gulf; and the more singular form of its civil 
 constitution, are generally known. If we view the Ve- 
 netian government s calculated for the order of nobles 
 alone, its institutions may be pronounced excellent; 
 the deliberative, legislative, and executive powers are 
 so admirably distributed and adjusted, that it must be 
 regarded as a perfect model of political wisdom. But 
 if we consider it as formed for a numerous body of 
 
 * The manner in which Louis the twelfth of France undertook and carried 
 on war against Julius the second, remarkably illustrates this observation. 
 Louis solemnly consulted the clergy of France, whether it was lawful to 
 take arms against a pope who had wantonly kindled war in Europe, and 
 whom neither the faith of treaties, nor gratitude for favours received, nor 
 the decorum of his character, could restrain from the most violent actions 
 to which the lust of power prompts ambitious princes. Though his clergy 
 authorized the war, yet Anne of Bretagne, his queen, entertained scruples 
 with regard to the lawfulness of it. The king himself, from some super- 
 stition of the same kind, carried it on faintly ; and, upon every fresh advan- 
 tage, renewed his propositions of peace. Mezray, Hist, de France, fol. 
 edit. 1685, torn. i. 852. I shall produce another proof of this reverence for 
 the papal character, still more striking. Guicciardini, the most sagacious, 
 perhaps, of all modern historians, and the boldest in painting the vices and 
 ambition of the popes, represents the death of Migliau, a Spanish officer, 
 who was killed during the siege of Naples, as a punishment inflicted on 
 him by heaven, on account of his having opposed the setting of Clement 
 the seventh at liberty. Guic. Istoria d'ltalia. Genev. 1645, vol. ii. lib. 18. 
 p. 47.
 
 120 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 people subject to its jurisdiction, it will appear a rigid 
 and partial aristocracy, which lodges all power in the 
 hands of a few members of the community, while it de- 
 grades and oppresses the rest. 
 
 Defecu in The spirit of government, in a commonwealth of this 
 iu govern- 8 p C cies, was, of course, timid and jealous. The Vene- 
 tkularfy^ tian nobles distrusted their own subjects, and were 
 with re- afraid of allowing them the use of arms. They en- 
 
 spect to its . 
 
 military couraged among them arts ot industry and commerce ; 
 
 operations. ^gy em pi O y e( j them in manufactures and in navigation ; 
 but never admitted them into the troops which the 
 state kept in its pay. The military force of the re- 
 public consisted entirely of foreign mercenaries. The 
 command of these was never trusted to noble Venetians, 
 lest they should acquire such influence over the army 
 as might endanger the public liberty ; or become ac- 
 customed to the exercise of such power, as would make 
 them unwilling to return to the condition of private citi- 
 zens. A soldier of fortune was placed at the head of 
 the armies of the commonwealth ; and to obtain that 
 honour, was the great object of the Italian * condottieri,' 
 or leaders of bands, who, in the fifteenth and sixteenth 
 centuries, made a trade of war, and raised and hired 
 out soldiers to different states. But the same suspi- 
 cious policy, which induced the Venetians to employ 
 these adventurers, prevented their placing entire con- 
 fidence in them. Two noblemen, appointed by the 
 senate, accompanied their army, when it took the field, 
 with the appellation of ' proveditori,' and, like the field 
 deputies of the Dutch republic in latter times, observed 
 all the motions of the general, and checked and con- 
 trolled him in all his operations. 
 
 A commonwealth, with such civil and military insti- 
 tutions, was not formed to make conquests. While its 
 subjects were disarmed, and its nobles excluded from 
 military command, it carried on its warlike enterprises 
 with great disadvantage. This ought to have taught 
 the Venetians to rest satisfied with making self-preser-
 
 SECT. m. STATE OF EUROPE. 121 
 
 vation, and the enjoyment of domestic security, the ob- 
 jects of their policy. But republics are apt to be se- 
 duced by the spirit of ambition, as well as kings. When 
 the Venetians so far forgot the interior defects in their 
 government, as to aim at extensive conquests, the fatal 
 blow which they received in the war excited by the 
 league of Cambray, convinced them of the imprudence 
 and danger of making violent efforts, in opposition to 
 the genius and tendency of their constitution. 
 
 It is not, however, by its military, but by its naval 
 and commercial power, that the importance of the Ve- 
 netian commonwealth must be estimated. The latter Excellence . 
 constituted the real force and nerves of the state. The ' n "r 5 . nilval 
 
 institutions. 
 
 jealousy of government did not extend to this depart- 
 ment. Nothing was apprehended from this quarter 
 that could prove formidable to liberty. The senate 
 encouraged the nobles to trade, and to serve on board 
 the fleet. They became merchants and admirals. They 
 increased the wealth of their country by their industry. 
 They added to its dominions, by the valour with which 
 they conducted its naval armaments. 
 
 Commerce was an inexhaustible source of opulence The extent 
 to the Venetians. All the nations in Europe depended 
 upon them, not only for the commodities of the east, 
 but for various manufactures fabricated by them alone, 
 or finished with a dexterity and elegance unknown in 
 other countries. From this extensive commerce, the 
 state derived such immense supplies as concealed those 
 vices in its constitution which I have mentioned ; and 
 enabled it to keep on foot such armies, as were not only 
 an overmatch tor the force which any of its neighbours 
 could bring into the field, but were sufficient to contend, 
 for -nine time, with the powerful monarclis beyond the 
 Alps. During its struggles with the princes united 
 against it by the league of Cambray, the republic levied 
 sums which, even in the present age, would be deemed 
 considerable ; and while the king of France paid the 
 exorbitant interest which I have mentioned for the
 
 I . j A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 money advanced to him, and the emperor, eager to 
 borrow, but destitute of credit, was known by the name 
 of ' Maximilian the moneyless,' the Venetians raised 
 whatever sums they pleased, at the moderate premium 
 if five in the hundred'. 
 
 The con- The constitution of Florence was perfectly the re- 
 stitution of verse O f t he Venetian. It partook as much of demo- 
 Horence. r , 
 
 cratical turbulence and licentiousness, as the other of 
 
 aristocratical rigour. Florence, however, was a com- 
 mercial, not a military democracy. The nature of its 
 institutions was favourable to commerce, and the genius 
 of the people was turned towards it. The vast wealth 
 which the family of Medici had acquired by trade, 
 together with the magnificence, the generosity, and 
 the virtue of the first Cosmo, gave him such an ascend- 
 ant over the affections as well as the councils of his 
 countrymen, that though the forms of popular govern- 
 ment were preserved, though the various departments 
 of administration were filled by magistrates distinguish- 
 ed by the ancient names, and elected in the usual man- 
 ner, he was in reality the head of the commonwealth ; 
 and in the station of a private citizen he possessed su- 
 preme authority. Cosmo transmitted a considerable 
 degree of this power to his descendants ; and during 
 the greater part of the fifteenth century, the political 
 state of Florence was extremely singular. The appear- 
 ance of republican government subsisted, the people 
 were passionately attached' to it, and, on some occasions, 
 contended warmly for their privileges, and yet they per- 
 mitted a single family to assume the direction of their 
 affairs, almost as absolutely as if it had been formally 
 invested with sovereign poM-er. The jealousy of the 
 Medici concurred with the commercial spirit of the 
 Florentines, in putting the military force of the republic 
 upon the same footing with that of the other Italian 
 
 1 Hist, de la Ligue faite H Cambray, par M. 1'Abbd du Bos, liv. v. Sandi, 
 Storia Civile Veneriana, lib. viii. c. 16. p. 891, etc.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 123 
 
 states. The troops, which the Florentines employed 
 in their wars, consisted almost entirely of mercenary 
 soldiers, furnished by the ' condottieri,' or leaders of 
 hands, whom they took into their pay. 
 
 In the kingdom of Naples, to which the sovereignty The con- 
 of the island of Sicily was annexed, the feudal govern- the^ine- 
 ment was established in the same form, and with the d ? m of 
 same defects, as in the other nations of Europe. The 
 frequent and violent revolutions which happened in 
 that monarchy had considerably increased these de- 
 fects, and rendered them more intolerable. The suc- 
 cession to the crown of Naples had been so often in- 
 terrupted or altered, and so many princes of foreign 
 bluod had, at different periods, obtained possession of 
 the throne, that the Neapolitan nobility had lost, in a 
 great measure, that attachment to the family of their 
 sovereigns, as well as that reverence for their persons, 
 which, in other feudal kingdoms, contributed to set 
 some bounds to the encroachments of the barons upon 
 the royal prerogative and power. At the same time, 
 the different pretenders to the crown, being obliged to 
 court the barons who adhered to them, and on whose 
 support they depended for the success of their claims, 
 they augmented their privileges by liberal concessions, 
 and connived at then* boldest usurpations. Even when 
 >( a ted on the throne, it was dangerous for a prince, 
 who held his sceptre by a disputed title, to venture on 
 any step towards extending his own power, or circum- 
 scribing that of the nobles. 
 
 From all these causes, the kingdom of Naples was 
 the most turbulent of any in Europe, and the authority 
 of its monarchs the least extensive. Though Ferdi- 
 nand the first, who began his reign in the year one 
 thousand four hundred and sixty-eight, attempted to 
 break the power of the aristocracy; though his son 
 Alphonso, that he might crush it at once by cutting off 
 the leaders of greatest reputation and influence among 
 the Neapolitan barons, ventured to commit one of the
 
 1 1 1 A VIEW OF THE SECT. HI. 
 
 .\.D.14.J7. 111((st perfidious and cruel actions recorded in history; 
 the order of nobles was nevertheless more exasperated 
 than humbled by their measures". The resentment 
 which these outrages excited was so violent, and the 
 jmwer of the malecontent nobles was still so formid- 
 able, that to these may be ascribed, in a great degree, 
 the ease and rapidity with which Charles the eighth 
 conquered the kingdom of Naples x . 
 
 state .f The event that gave rise to the violent contests con- 
 
 the dispute cern i n ,, the succession to the crown of Naples and 
 
 concerning ... 
 
 the right of Sicily, which brought so many calamities upon these 
 to the* 5100 kingdoms, happened in the thirteenth century. Upon 
 crown. the death of the emperor Frederic the second, Man- 
 fred, his natural son, aspiring to the Neapolitan throne, 
 A. D. 1254. murdered his brother, the emperor Conrad, (if we may 
 believe contemporary historians,) and by that crime 
 obtained possession of it y . The popes, from their im- 
 placable enmity to the house of Swabia, not only re- 
 fused to recognise Manfred's title, but endeavoured to 
 excite against him some rival capable of wresting the 
 sceptre out of his hand. Charles, count of Arijou, the 
 brother of St. Louis, king of France, undertook this ; 
 and he received from the popes the investiture of the 
 kingdom of Naples and Sicily as a fief held of the 
 holy see. The count of Anjou's efforts were crowned 
 with success; Manfred fell in battle; and he took pos- 
 session of the vacant throne. But soon after, Charles 
 sullied the glory which he had acquired, by the in- 
 justice and cruelty with which he put to death, by the 
 hands of the executioner, Conradin, the last prince of 
 the house of Swabia, and the rightful heir of the Nea- 
 politan crown. That gallant young prince asserted his 
 title, to the last, with a courage worthy of a better fate. 
 On the scaffold, he declared Peter, at that time prince 
 and soon after king of Aragon, who had married Man- 
 
 q Giannone, bookxxviU. chap. 2. vol.ii. p. 410, etc. 
 
 Id. ibid. p. 414. 
 
 ? Struv. Corp. Hist. Germ, i. 481. Giannone, book xviii. ch. v.
 
 SECT. HI. STATE OF EUROPE. 125 
 
 fred's only daughter, his heir ; and throwing his glove 
 among the people, he entreated that it might be car- 
 ried to Peter, as the symbol by which he conveyed all 
 his rights to him z . The desire of avenging the insult 
 offered to royalty by the death of Conradin, concurred 
 with his own ambition, in prompting Peter to take 
 arms in support of the title which he had acquired. 
 From that period, during almost two centuries, the 
 houses of Aragon and Anjou contended for the crown 
 of Naples. Amidst a succession of revolutions more 
 rapid, as well as of crimes more atrocious, than what 
 occur in the history of almost any other kingdom, mo- 
 narchs, sometimes of the Aragonese line, and some- 
 times of the Angevin, were seated on the throne. At A. D. 1434. 
 length the princes of the house of Aragon obtained 
 such firm possession of this long-disputed inheritance, 
 that they transmitted it quietly to a bastard branch of 
 their family'. 
 
 The race of the Angevin kings, however, was not Pretensions 
 extinct; nor had they relinquished their title to the" fthe 
 Neapolitan crown. The count of Maine and Pro- and Spa- 
 vence, the heir of this family, conveyed all his rights nish " 1Q - 
 :uul pretensions to Louis the eleventh, and to his sue- A. D. 1494. 
 cessors. Charles the eighth, as I have already related, 
 crossed the Alps at the head of a powerful army, in 
 (i (k'r to prosecute his claim with a degree of vigour, 
 far superior to that which the princes from whom he 
 derived it had been capable of exerting. The rapid 
 progress of his arms in Italy, as well as the short time 
 during which he enjoyed the fruits of his success, have 
 already been mentioned, and are well known. Fre- 
 deric, the heir of the illegitimate branch of the Aragon- 
 ese family, soon recovered the throne of which Charles 
 had dispossessed him. Louis the twelfth and Ferdi- 
 nand of Aragon united against this prince, whom both, 
 
 1 Giannone, book six. ch. 4. sect. 2. 
 * Giannone, book xxvi. ch. 2.
 
 126 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. in. 
 
 A. D. 1501 
 
 State of 
 the duchy 
 of Milan, 
 and the 
 right of 
 succession 
 toil. 
 
 Rise and 
 progress 
 of the dis- 
 putes con- 
 cerning 
 this. 
 
 A. D. 1354 
 
 though for different reasons, considered as an usurper, 
 and a "reed to divide his dominions between them. 
 
 O 
 
 Frederic, unable to resist the combined monarchs, eacli 
 of whom was far his superior in power, resigned his 
 sceptre. Louis and Ferdinand, though they had con- 
 curred in making the conquest, differed about the di- 
 vision of it; and from allies became enemies. But 
 Gonsalvo de Cordova, partly by the exertion of such 
 military talents as gave him a just title to the appella- 
 tion of the ' great captain,' which the Spanish historians 
 have bestowed upon him; and partly by such shame- 
 less and frequent violations of the most solemn en- 
 gagements, as leave an indelible stain on his memory; 
 stripped the French of all that they possessed in the 
 Neapolitan dominions, and secured the peaceable pos- 
 session of them to his master. These, together with 
 his other kingdoms, Ferdinand transmitted to his 
 grandson Charles the fifth, whose right to possess 
 them, if not altogether uncontrovertible, seems at least 
 to be as well founded as that which the kings of France 
 set up in opposition to it b . 
 
 There is nothing in the political constitution, or in- 
 terior government, of the duchy of Milan, so remark- 
 able as to require a particular explanation. But as 
 the right of succession to that fertile province was the 
 cause or the pretext of almost all the wars carried on 
 in Italy during the reign of Charles the fifth, it is ne- 
 cessary to trace these disputes to their source, and to 
 inquire into the pretensions of the various competitors. 
 
 During the long and fierce contests excited in Italy 
 by the violence of the guelf and ghibelline factions, the 
 family of Visconti rose to great eminence among their 
 fellow-citizens of Milan. As the Visconti had adhered 
 uniformly to the ghibelline or imperial interest, they, 
 by way of recompense, received, from one emperor, 
 
 b Droits des rois de France au royaume de Sicile. M6m. de Comin. fcdit. 
 de Fresnoy, torn. iv. part ii. p. 5.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 127 
 
 the dignity of perpetual vicars of the empire in Italy c : 
 they were created by another, dukes of Milan ; and, A. D. 1395. 
 together with that title, the possession of the city and 
 its territories was bestowed upon them as an hereditary 
 fief d . John, king of France, among other expedients 
 for raising money, which the calamities of his reign 
 obliged him to employ, condescended to give one of 
 his daughters in marriage to John Galeazzo Visconti, 
 the first duke of Milan, from whom he had received 
 considerable sums. Valentine Visconti, one of the 
 children of this marriage, married her cousin, Louis, 
 duke of Orleans, the only brother of Charles the sixth. 
 In their marriage contract, which the pope confirmed, 
 it was stipulated that, upon failure of heirs male in the 
 family of Visconti, the duchy of Milan should descend 
 to the posterity of Valentine and the duke of Orleans. 
 That event took place. In the year one thousand four 
 hundred and forty-seven, Philip Maria, the last prince 
 of the ducal family of Visconti, died. Various com- 
 petitors claimed the succession. Charles, duke of Or- 
 leans, pleaded his right to it, founded on the marriage 
 contract of his mother Valentine Visconti. Alfonso, 
 king of Naples, claimed it in consequence of a will 
 made by Philip Maria in his favour. The emperor 
 contended that, upon the extinction of male issue in 
 the family of Visconti, the fief returned to the superior 
 lord, and ought to be reannexed to the empire. The 
 people of Milan, smitten with the love of liberty which 
 in that age prevailed among the Italian states, declared 
 against the dominion of any master, and established a 
 republican form of government. 
 
 But during the struggle among so many competitors, 
 the prize for which they contended was seized by one 
 from whom none of them apprehended any danger. 
 Francis Sforza, the natural son of Jacomuzzo Sforza, 
 
 c Petrarch. Epist ap. Struv. Corp. i. 625. 
 
 d Leibnit. Cod. Jur. Gent. Diplorn. vol. i. 257.
 
 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 whom his courage and abilities had elevated from the 
 rank of a peasant to be one of the most eminent and 
 powerful of the Italian ' condottieri,' having succeeded 
 his father in the command of the adventurers who fol- 
 lowed his standard, had married a natural daughter of 
 the last duke of Milan. Upon this shadow of a title 
 Francis founded his pretensions to the duchy, which 
 he supported with such talents and valour as placed 
 him, at last, on the ducal throne. The virtues, as well 
 as abilities, with which he governed, inducing his sub- 
 jects to forget the defects in his title, he transmitted 
 his dominions quietly to his son ; from whom they de- 
 scended to his grandson. He was murdered by his 
 grand uncle Ludovico, surnamed the Moor, who took 
 possession of the duchy ; and his right to it was con- 
 firmed by the investiture of the emperor Maximilian, in 
 the year one thousand four hundred and ninety-four e . 
 
 Louis the eleventh, who took pleasure in depressing 
 the princes of the blood, and who admired the political 
 abilities of Francis Sforza, would not permit the duke 
 of Orleans to take any step in prosecution of his right 
 to the duchy of Milan. Ludovico the Moor kept up 
 such a close connexion with Charles the eighth, that, 
 during the greater part of his reign, the claim of the 
 family of Orleans continued to lie dormant. But when 
 the crown of France devolved on Louis the twelfth, 
 duke of Orleans, he instantly asserted the rights of his 
 family with the ardour which it was natural to expect, 
 and marched, at the head of a powerful army, to sup- 
 port them. Ludovico Sforza, incapable of contending 
 with such a rival, was stripped of all his dominions in 
 the space of a few days. The king, clad in the ducal 
 robes, entered Milan in triumph; and soon after, Lu- 
 dovico, having been betrayed by the Swiss in his pay, 
 was sent a prisoner into France, and shut up in the 
 
 Ripalm. Hist. Mediol. lib. vi. 654. ap. Struv. Corp. i. 930 Du Mont, 
 Corps. Diplom. torn. iii. p. ii. 333. ibid.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 
 
 castle of Loches, where he lay unpitied during the re- 
 mainder of his days. In consequence of one of the 
 singular revolutions which occur so frequently in the 
 history of the Milanese, his son Maximilian Sforza was 
 placed on the ducal throne, of which he kept posses- 
 sion during the reign of Louis the twelfth. But his A. D. 1512. 
 successor Francis the first was too high-spirited and 
 enterprising tamely to relinquish his title. As soon as 
 he was seated upon the throne, he prepared to invade 
 the Milanese; and his right of succession to it ap- 
 pears, from this detail, to have been more natural and 
 more just than that of any o'her competitor. 
 
 It is unnecessary to enter into any detail with re- 
 spect to the form of government in Genoa, Parma, 
 Modena, and the other inferior states of Italy. Their 
 names, indeed, will often occur in the following history. 
 But the power of these states themselves was so in- 
 considerable, that their fate depended little upon their 
 own efforts ; and the frequent revolutions which they 
 underwent, were brought about rather by the opera- 
 tions of the princes who attacked or -defended them, 
 than by any thing peculiar in their internal constitution. 
 
 Of the great kingdoms on this side of the Alps, The con- 
 Spain is one of the most considerable ; and as it was * l ^ ut " 
 the hereditary domain of Charles the fifth, as well as vernment 
 the chief source of his power and wealth, a distinct pain> 
 knowledge of its political constitution is of capital im- 
 portance towards understanding the transactions of his 
 reign. 
 
 The Vandals and Goths, who overturned the Ro- Conquered 
 man power in Spain, established a form of government ^ n( j^s 
 in that country, and introduced customs and laws, per- 
 fectly similar to those which were established in the 
 rest of Europe, by the other victorious tribes which 
 acquired settlements there. For some time, society 
 advanced, among the new inhabitants of Spain, by the 
 same steps, and seemed to hold the same course, as in 
 other European nations. To this progress, a sudden A. D. 712. 
 
 VOL. III. K
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. in. 
 
 and by the 
 Moors. 
 
 The chris- 
 tians gra- 
 dually re- 
 cover do- 
 minion in 
 Spain. 
 
 stop was put by the invasion of the Saracens or Moors 
 from Africa. The Goths could not withstand the ef- 
 forts of their enthusiastic valour, which suhdued the 
 greatest part of Spain, with the same impetuous rapid- 
 ity that distinguishes all the operations of their arms. 
 The conquerors introduced into the country, in which 
 they settled, the mahometan religion, the Arabic lan- 
 guage, the manners of the east, together with that 
 taste for the arts, and that love of elegance and splen- 
 dour, which the caliphs had begun to cultivate among ' 
 their subjects. 
 
 Such Gothic nobles as disdained to submit to the 
 Moorish yoke, fled for refuge to the inaccessible moun- 
 tains of Asturias. There they comforted themselves 
 with enjoying the exercise of the Christian religion, 
 and with maintaining the authority of their ancient 
 laws. Being joined by many of the boldest and most 
 warlike among their countrymen, they sallied out upon 
 the adjacent settlements of the Moors in small parties ; 
 but venturing only upon short excursions at first, they 
 were satisfied with plunder and revenge, without think- 
 ing of conquest. By degrees, their strength increased, 
 their views enlarged, a regular government was esta- 
 blished among them, and they began to aim at extend- 
 ing their territories. While they pushed on their at- 
 tacks with the unremitting ardour, excited by zeal for 
 religion, by the desire of vengeance, and by the hope 
 of rescuing their country from oppression ; while they 
 conducted their operations with the courage natural to 
 men who had no other occupation but war, and who 
 were strangers to all the arts which corrupt or enfeeble 
 the mind ; the Moors gradually lost many of the ad- 
 vantages to which they had been indebted for their 
 first success. They threw off all dependence on the 
 caliphs f ; they neglected to preserve a close connexion 
 with their countrymen in Africa ; their empire in Spain 
 
 1 Jo*. Sim. Assemanni Histor. Ital. Scriptores, vol. iii. p. 135. 

 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 131 
 
 was split into many small kingdoms ; the arts which 
 they cultivated, together with the luxury to which 
 these gave rise, relaxed, in some measure, the force of 
 their military institutions, and abated the vigour of 
 their warlike spirit. The Moors, however, continued 
 still to be a gallant people, and possessed great re- 
 sources. According to the magnificent style of the 
 Spanish historians, eight centuries of almost uninter- 
 rupted war elapsed, and three thousand seven hundred 
 battles were fought, before the last of the Moorish 1492. 
 kingdoms in Spain submitted to the Christian arms. 
 
 As the Christians made their conquests upon the The union 
 mahometans at various periods, and under different "^ ^ a nor . 
 leaders, each formed the territory which he had wrest- doms. 
 ed from the common enemy, into an independent state. 
 Spain was divided into almost as many separate king- 
 doms as it contained provinces ; in each city of note, 
 a petty monarch established his throne, and assumed 
 all the ensigns of royalty. In a series of years, how- 
 ever, by the usual events of intermarriages, or succes- 
 sion, or conquest, all these inferior principalities were 
 annexed to the more powerful kingdoms of Castile 
 and of Aragon. At length, by the fortunate marriage 
 of Ferdinand and Isabella, the former the hereditary 
 monarch of Aragon, and the latter raised to the throne 
 of Castile by the affection of her subjects, all the Span- 1481. 
 ish crowns were united, and descended in the same 
 line. 
 
 From this period, the political constitution of Spain Their an- 
 began to assume a regular and uniform appearance ; 
 
 the genius of its government may be delineated, and laws re- 
 the progress of its laws and manners may be traced, am id s t all 
 with certainty. Notwithstanding the singular revolu- 
 tion which the invasion of the Moors occasioned in 
 Spain, and the peculiarity of its fate, in being so long 
 subject to the mahometan yoke, the customs intro- 
 duced by the Vandals and Goths had taken such deep 
 root, and were so thoroughly incorporated with the
 
 I .,.' A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 frame of its government, that in every province which 
 the Christians recovered from the Moors, we find the 
 condition of individuals, as well as the political consti- 
 tution, nearly the same as in other nations of Europe, 
 which ren- Lands were held by the same tenure ; justice was dis- 
 ders their p ense j j n the same form ; the same privileges were 
 Une'de- claimed by the nobility; and the same power exercised 
 P e *' M h"t by the cortes, or general assembly of the kingdom, 
 of other Several circumstances contributed to secure this per- 
 manence of the feudal institutions in Spain, notwith- 
 standing the conquest of the Moors, which seemed to 
 have overturned them. Such of the Spaniards as pre- 
 served their independence, adhered to their ancient 
 customs, not only from attachment to them, but out of 
 antipathy to the Moors, to whose ideas concerning 
 property and government these customs were totally 
 repugnant. Even among the Christians, who submitted 
 to the Moorish conquerors, and consented to become 
 their subjects, ancient customs were not entirely abo- 
 lished. They were permitted to retain their religion, 
 their laws concerning private property, their forms of 
 administering justice, and their mode of levying taxes. 
 The followers of Mahomet are the only enthusiasts 
 who have united the spirit of toleration with zeal for 
 making proselytes, and who, at the same time that 
 they took arms to propagate the doctrine of their pro- 
 phet, permitted such as would not embrace it, to ad- 
 here to their own tenets, and to practise their own 
 rites. To this peculiarity in the genius of the maho- 
 metan religion, as well as to the desire which the 
 Moors had of reconciling the Christians to their yoke, 
 it was owing that the ancient manners and laws in 
 Spain survived the violent shock of a conquest, and 
 were permitted to subsist, notwithstanding the intro- 
 duction of a new religion and a new form of govern- 
 ment into that country. It is obvious, from all these 
 particulars, that the Christians must have found it ex- 
 tremely easy to reestablish manners and government
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 133 
 
 on their ancient foundations, in those provinces of 
 Spain which they wrested successively from the Moors. 
 A considerable part of the people retained such a 
 fondness for the customs, and such a reverence for the 
 laws, of their ancestors, that, wishing to see them com- 
 pletely restored, they were not only willing but eager 
 to resume the former, and to recognise the authority 
 of the latter. 
 
 But though the feudal form of government, with all Certain pe- 
 the institutions which characterize it, was thus pre- 
 
 served entire in Castile and Aragon, as well as in all constitution 
 the kingdoms which depended on these crowns, there 
 were certain peculiarities in their political constitutions, 
 which distinguish them from those of any other country 
 in Europe. The royal prerogative, extremely limited The prero- 
 in every feudal kingdom, was circumscribed, in Spain, fimitedTami 
 within such narrow bounds, as reduced the power of lneimmu - 
 the sovereign almost to nothing. The privileges of the pe0 ple more 
 nobility were great in proportion, and extended so far extensive - 
 as to border on absolute independence. The immuni- 
 ties of the cities were likewise greater than in other 
 feudal kingdoms, they possessed considerable influence 
 in the cortes, and they aspired at obtaining more. Such 
 a state of society, in which the political machine was so 
 ill-adjusted, and the several members of the legislature 
 so improperly balanced, produced internal disorders in 
 the kingdoms of Spain, which rose beyond the pitch of 
 turbulence and anarchy usual under the feudal govern- 
 ment. The whole tenour of the Spanish history con- 
 firms the truth of this observation ; and when the 
 mutinous spirit, to which the genius of their policy 
 gave birth and vigour, was no longer restrained and 
 overawed by the immediate dread of the Moorish arms, 
 it broke out into more frequent insurrections against 
 the government of their princes, as well as more out- 
 rageous insults on their dignity, than occur in the 
 annals of any other country. These were accompanied 
 at some times with more liberal sentiments concerning
 
 134 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 the rights of the people, at other times with more ele- 
 vated notions concerning the privileges of the nobles, 
 than were common in other nations. 
 
 instances of In the principality of Catalonia, which was annexed to 
 the kingdom of Aragon, the impatience of the people to 
 obtain the redress of their grievances having prompted 
 them to take arms against their sovereign John the 
 
 A.D. 1462. second, they, by a solemn deed, recalled the oath of 
 allegiance which they had sworn to him, declared him 
 and his posterity to be unworthy of the throne g , and 
 endeavoured to establish a republican form of govern- 
 ment, in order to secure the perpetual enjoyment of 
 that liberty, after which they aspired h . Nearly about 
 the same period, the indignation of the Castilian no- 
 bility against the weak and flagitious administration of 
 Henry the fourth, having led them to combine against 
 him, they arrogated, as one of the privileges belonging 
 to their order, the right of trying and passing sentence 
 on their sovereign. That the exercise of this power 
 might be as public and solemn, as the pretension to it 
 was bold, they summoned all the nobility of their party 
 
 A.D. 1465. to meet at Avila; a spacious theatre was erected in a 
 plain, without the walls of the town ; an image repre- 
 senting the king was seated on a throne, clad in royal 
 robes, with a crown on its head, a sceptre in its hand, 
 and the sword of justice by its side. The accusation 
 against the king was read, and the sentence of depo- 
 sition was pronounced, in presence of a numerous as- 
 sembly. At the close of the first article of the charge, 
 the archbishop of Toledo advanced, and tore the crown 
 from the head of the image; at the close of the second, 
 the conde de Placentia snatched the sword of justice 
 from its side ; at the close of the third, the conde de 
 Benevente wrested the sceptre from its hand; at the 
 
 * Zurita, Annales de Arag. tom. iv. 113. 1 15, etc. 
 
 h Ferrera, Hist. d'Espagne, torn. vii. p. 92. P. Orleans, Revol. d'E- 
 spagne, torn. iii. p. 155. L. Marinaeus Siculus, de Reb. Hispan. apud 
 Schotti Script. Hispan. fol. 429.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 135 
 
 close of the last, don Diego Lopes de Stuniga tumbled 
 it headlong from the throne. At the same instant, don 
 Alfonso, Henry's brother, was proclaimed king of Cas- 
 tile and Leon in his stead 1 . 
 
 The most daring leaders of faction would not have 
 ventured on these measures, nor have conducted them 
 with such public ceremony, if the sentiments of the 
 people concerning the royal dignity had not been so 
 formed by the laws and policy, to which they were 
 accustomed both in Castile and Catalonia, as prepared 
 them to approve of such extraordinary proceedings, or 
 to acquiesce in them. 
 
 In Aragon the form of government was monarchical, The consti- 
 but the genius and maxims of it were purely repub- government 
 lican. The kings, who were long elective, retained f Aragon. 
 only the shadow of power ; the real exercise of it was 
 in the cortes or parliament of the kingdom. This su- 
 preme assembly was composed of four different ' arms' 
 or members : the nobility of the first rank : the eques- 
 trian order, or nobility of the second class : the represen- 
 tatives of the cities and towns, whose right to a place 
 in the cortes, if we may give credit to the historians of 
 Aragon, was coeval with the constitution : the ecclesi- 
 astical order, composed of the dignitaries of the church, 
 together with the representatives of the inferior clergy k . 
 No law could pass in this assembly without the assent 
 of every single member who had a right to vote '. 
 Without the permission of the cortes, no tax could be 
 imposed ; no war could be declared ; no peace could 
 be concluded ; no money could be coined ; nor could 
 any alteration be made in the current specie m . The 
 power of reviewing the proceedings of all inferior 
 courts, the privilege of inspecting every department 
 
 ' Marian. Hist. lib. xxiii. c. 9. 
 
 k Forma de celebrar Cortes en Aragon por Geron. Martel. 
 1 Martel. ibid. p. 2. 
 
 ** Hier. Blanca, Comment. Rer. Aragon. ap. Schot. Script. Hispan. vol. 
 iii. p. 750.
 
 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 of administration, and the right of redressing all griev- 
 ances, helonged to the cortes. Nor did those who con- 
 ceived themselves to be aggrieved, address the cortes 
 in the humble tone of supplicants, and petition for re- 
 dress ; they demanded it as the birthright of freemen, 
 and required the guardians of their liberty to decide 
 with respect to the points which they laid before them n . 
 This sovereign court was held, during several centuries, 
 every year ; but, in consequence of a regulation intro- 
 duced about the beginning of the fourteenth century, 
 it was convoked from that period only once in two 
 years. After it was assembled, the king had no right 
 to prorogue or dissolve it without its own consent ; and 
 the session continued forty days . 
 
 Office and Not satisfied with having erected such formidable 
 n barriers against the encroachments of the royal prero- 
 
 tiza. gative, nor willing to commit the sole guardianship of 
 
 their liberties entirely to the vigilance and authority 
 of an assembly, similar to the diets, states-general, and 
 parliaments, in which the other feudal nations have 
 placed so much confidence, the Aragonese had re- 
 course to an institution peculiar to themselves, and 
 elected a 'justiza,' or supreme judge. This magistrate, 
 whose office bore some resemblance to that of the 
 ephori in ancient Sparta, acted as the protector of the 
 people, and the comptroller of the prince. The person 
 of the justiza was sacred ; his power and jurisdiction 
 almost unbounded. He was the supreme interpreter 
 of the laws. Not only inferior judges, but the kings 
 themselves, were bound to consult him in every doubt- 
 ful case, and to receive his responses with implicit de- 
 ference p . An appeal lay to him from the royal judges, 
 as well as from those appointed by the barons within 
 their respective territories. Even when no appeal was 
 
 n Martel. Forma de celebrar, etc. p. 2. 
 Hier. Blanca, Comment, p. 763. 
 
 P Blanca has preserved two responses of the justiza to James the second, 
 who reigned towards the close of the thirteenth century. Blanca, p. 748.
 
 SECT. HI. STATE OF EUROPE. 137 
 
 made to him, he could interpose by his own authority, 
 prohibit the ordinary judge to proceed, take immediate 
 cognizance of the cause himself, and remove the party 
 accused to the ' manifestation,' or prison of the state, 
 to which no person had access but by his permission. 
 His power was exerted with no less vigour and effect 
 in superintending the administration of government, 
 than in regulating the course of justice. It was the 
 prerogative of the justiza to inspect the conduct of the 
 king. He had a title to review all the royal proclama- 
 tions and patents, and to declare whether or not they 
 were agreeable to law, and ought to be carried into 
 execution. He, by his sole authority, could exclude 
 any of the king's ministers from the conduct of affairs, 
 and call them to answer for their maladministration. 
 He himself was accountable to the cortes only, for the 
 manner in which he discharged the duties of this high 
 office ; and performed functions of the greatest import- 
 ance that could be committed to a subject* 1 . 
 
 It is evident, from a bare enumeration of the privi- The regal 
 leges of the Aragonese cortes, as well as of the rights cu 
 
 belonging to the justiza, that a very small portion of within nar- 
 power remained in the hands of the king. The Ara- 
 gonese seem to have been solicitous that their monarchs 
 should know and feel this state of impotence, to which 
 they were reduced. Even in swearing allegiance to 
 their sovereign, an act which ought naturally to be ac- 
 companied with professions of submission and respect, 
 they devised an oath, in such a form, as to remind him 
 of his dependence on his subjects. " We," said the 
 justiza to the king, in the name of his high-spirited 
 barons, " who are each of us as good, and who arc 
 altogether more powerful than you, promise obedience 
 to your government, if you maintain our rights and 
 liberties ; but, if not, not." Conformably to this oath, 
 they established it as a fundamental article in their 
 
 i fjier. Klanca, Comment, p. 747. 755. See Note xxxi.
 
 138 A VIEW OF THE SECT. HI. 
 
 constitution, that if the king should violate their rights 
 and privileges, it was lawful for the people to disclaim 
 him as their sovereign, and to elect another, even 
 though a heathen, in his place r . The attachment of 
 the Aragonese to this singular constitution of govern- 
 ment was extreme, and their respect for it approached 
 to superstitious veneration*. In the preamble to one 
 of their laws, they declare, that such was the barren- 
 ness of their country, and the poverty of the inhabi- 
 tants, that, if it were not on account of the liberties by 
 which they were distinguished from other nations, the 
 people would abandon it, and go in quest of a settle- 
 ment to some more fruitful region 4 . 
 
 Constitution In Castile, there were not such peculiarities in the 
 and govern- f orm o f government, as to establish any remarkable 
 Castile. distinction between it and that of the other European 
 nations. The executive part of government was com- 
 mitted to the king, but with a prerogative extremely 
 limited. The legislative authority resided in the cortes, 
 which was composed of the nobility, the dignified ec- 
 clesiastics, and the representatives of the cities. The 
 assembly of the cortes in Castile was very ancient, and 
 seems to have been almost coeval with the constitution. 
 The members of the three different orders, who had a 
 right of suffrage, met in one place, and deliberated as 
 one collective body ; the decisions of which were regu- 
 lated by the sentiments of the majority. The right of 
 imposing taxes, of enacting laws, and of redressing 
 grievances, belonged to this assembly ; and, in order 
 to secure the assent of the king to such statutes and 
 regulations as" were deemed salutary or beneficial to 
 the kingdom, it was usual in the cortes to take no step 
 towards granting money, until all business relative to 
 the public welfare was concluded. The representatives 
 of cities seem to have obtained a seat very early in the 
 
 T Hier. Blanca, Comment, p. 720. Note xxxii. 
 
 ' Hier. Blanca, Comment, p. 751.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 139 
 
 cortes of Castile, and soon acquired such influence and 
 credit, as were very uncommon, at a period when the 
 splendour and preeminence of the nobility had eclipsed 
 or depressed all other orders of men. The number of 
 members from cities bore such a proportion to that of 
 the whole collective body, as rendered them extremely 
 respectable in the cortes u . The degree of considera- 
 tion, which they possessed in the state, may be esti- 
 mated by one event. Upon the death of John the first, A.D. 1390. 
 a council of regency was appointed to govern the king- 
 dom during the minority of his son. It was composed 
 of an equal number of noblemen, and of deputies, chosen 
 by the cities ; the latter were admitted to the same 
 rank, and invested with the same powers, as prelates 
 and grandees of the first order". But though the 
 members of communities in Castile were elevated above 
 the condition wherein they were placed in other king- 
 doms of Europe; though they had attained to such 
 political importance, that even the proud and jealous 
 spirit of the feudal aristocracy could not exclude them 
 from a considerable share in government ; yet the 
 nobles, notwithstanding these acquisitions of the com- 
 mons, continued to assert the privileges of their order, 
 in opposition to the crown, in a tone extremely high. 
 There was not any body of nobility in Europe more 
 distinguished for independence of spirit, haughtiness 
 of deportment, and bold pretensions, than that of Cas- 
 tile. The history of that monarchy affords the most 
 striking examples of the vigilance with which they ob- 
 served, and of the vigour with which they opposed, 
 every measure of their kings, that tended to encroach 
 on their jurisdiction, to diminish their dignity, or to 
 abridge their power. Even in their ordinary inter- 
 course with their monarchs, they preserved such a con- 
 sciousness of their rank, that the nobles of the first 
 order claimed it as a privilege to be covered in the 
 
 * Note xxxiii. " Marian. Hist. lib. xviii. c. 15.
 
 140 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 royal presence, and approached their sovereigns rather 
 as equals than as subjects. 
 
 The constitutions of the subordinate monarchies, 
 which depended on the crowns of Castile and Aragon, 
 nearly resembled those of the kingdoms to which they 
 were annexed. In all of them, the dignity and inde- 
 pendence of the nobles were great ; the immunities and 
 power of the cities were considerable. 
 
 Various An attentive observation of the singular situation of 
 
 causes of s pa } n as we ll as the various events which occurred 
 
 the limited ^ t 
 
 authority of there, from the invasion of the Moors to the union of 
 monarch's. 8 ^ ts kingdom under Ferdinand and Isabella, will dis- 
 cover the causes to which all the peculiarities in its 
 political constitution I have pointed out, ought to be 
 ascribed. 
 
 As the provinces of Spain were wrested from the 
 mahometans gradually and with difficulty, the nobles 
 who followed the standard of any eminent leader in 
 these wars, conquered not for him alone, but for them- 
 selves. They claimed a share in the lands which their 
 valour had won from the enemy, and their prosperity 
 and power increased, in proportion as the territory of 
 the prince extended. 
 
 During their perpetual wars with the Moors, the 
 monarchs of the several kingdoms in Spain depended 
 so much on their nobles, that it became necessary to 
 conciliate their good-will by successive grants of new 
 honours and privileges. By the time that any prince 
 could establish his dominion in a conquered province, 
 the greater part of the territory was parcelled out by 
 him among his barons, with such jurisdiction and im- 
 munities as raised them almost to sovereign power. 
 
 At the same time, the kingdoms erected in so many 
 different corners of Spain, were of inconsiderable ex- 
 tent. The petty monarch was but little elevated above 
 his nobles. They, feeling themselves to be almost his 
 equals, acted as such ; and could not look up to the 
 kings of such limited domains with the same reverence
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 141 
 
 that the sovereigns of the great monarchies in Europe 
 were viewed by their subjects - v . 
 
 While these circumstances concurred in exalting the 
 nobility, and in depressing the royal authority, there 
 were other causes which raised the cities in Spain to 
 consideration and power. 
 
 As the open country, during the wars with the 
 Moors, was perpetually exposed to the excursions of 
 the enemy, with whom no peace or truce was so per- 
 manent as to prove any lasting security, self-preserva- 
 tion obliged persons of all ranks to fix their residence 
 in places of strength. The castles of the barons, 
 which, in other countries, afforded a commodious re- 
 treat from the depredations of banditti, or from the 
 transient violence of any interior commotion, were un- 
 able to resist an enemy whose operations were con- 
 ducted with regular and persevering vigour. Cities, 
 in which great numbers united for their mutual de- 
 fence, were the only places in which people could re- 
 side with any prospect of safety. To this was owing 
 the rapid growth of those cities in Spain of which the 
 christians recovered possession. All who fled from the 
 Moorish yoke resorted to them, as to an asylum ; and 
 in them, the greater part of those who took the field 
 against the mahometans established their families. 
 
 Several of these cities, during a longer or shorter 
 course of years, were the capitals of little states, and 
 enjoyed all the advantages which accelerate the in- 
 crease of inhabitants in every place that is the seat of 
 government. 
 
 From those concurring causes, the number of cities 
 in Spain, at the beginning of the fifteenth century, had 
 become considerable, and they were peopled far be- 
 yond the proportion which was common in other parts 
 of Europe, except in Italy and the Low Countries. 
 The Moors had introduced manufactures into those 
 
 T Note xxx iv.
 
 142 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 cities, while under their dominion. The Christians, 
 who, by intermixture with them, had learned their arts, 
 continued to cultivate these. Trade, in several of the 
 Spanish towns, appears to have been carried on with 
 vigour ; and the spirit of commerce continued to pre- 
 serve the number of their inhabitants, as the sense of 
 danger had first induced them to crowd together. 
 
 As the Spanish cities were populous, many of the 
 inhabitants were of a rank superior to those who re- 
 sided in towns in other countries of Europe. That 
 cause, which contributed chiefly to their population, 
 affected equally persons of every condition, who flocked 
 thither promiscuously, in order to find shelter there, or 
 in hopes of making a stand against the enemy, with 
 greater advantage than in any other station. The per- 
 sons elected as their representatives in the cortes by 
 the cities, or promoted to offices of trust and dignity 
 in the government of the community, were often, as 
 will appear from transactions which I shall hereafter 
 relate, of such considerable rank in the kingdom, as 
 reflected lustre on their constituents, and on the sta- 
 tions wherein they were placed. 
 
 As it was impossible to carry on a continual war 
 against the Moors, without some other military force 
 than that which the barons were obliged to bring into 
 the field, in consequence of the feudal tenures, it be- 
 came necessary to have some troops, particularly a 
 body of light cavalry, in constant pay. It was one of 
 the privileges of the nobles, that their lands were ex- 
 empt from the burthen of taxes. The charge of sup- 
 porting the troops requisite for the public safety fell 
 wholly upon the cities ; and their kings, being obliged 
 frequently to apply to them for aid, found it necessary 
 to gain their favour by concessions, which not only ex- 
 tended their immunities, but added to their wealth and 
 power. 
 
 When the influence of all these circumstances, pe- 
 culiar to Spain, is added to the general and common
 
 SECT. HI. STATE OF EUROPE. 143 
 
 causes, which contributed to aggrandize cities in other 
 countries of Europe, this will fully account for the ex- 
 tensive privileges which they acquired, as well as for 
 the extraordinary consideration to which they attained, 
 in all the Spanish kingdoms z . 
 
 By these exorbitant privileges of the nobility, and Measures of 
 this unusual power of the cities in Spain, the royal 
 
 prerogative was hemmed in on every side, and reduced order to ex- 
 within very narrow bounds. Sensible of this, and im- power ; 
 patient of such restraint, several monarchs endeavoured, 
 at various junctures, and by different means, to enlarge 
 their own jurisdiction. Their power, however, or their 
 abilities, were so unequal to the undertaking, that their 
 efforts were attended with little success. But when particularly 
 Ferdinand and Isabella found themselves at the head n an d r an a 
 of the united kingdoms of Spain, and delivered from Isabella. 
 the danger and interruption of domestic wars, they 
 were not only in a condition to resume, but were able 
 to prosecute with advantage, the schemes of extending 
 the prerogative, which their ancestors had attempted 
 in vain. Ferdinand's profound sagacity in concerting 
 his measures, his persevering industry in conducting 
 them, and his uncommon address in carrying them into 
 execution, fitted him admirably for an undertaking 
 which required all these talents. 
 
 As the overgrown power and high pretensions of the Ferdinand's 
 nobility were what the monarchs of Spain felt most ^ ^ for 
 sensibly, and bore with the greatest impatience, the abridging 
 great object of Ferdinand's policy was to reduce these ieg e rao.d 
 within more moderate bounds. Under various pre- power of the 
 
 . , , nobility ; 
 
 texts, sometimes by violence, more frequently in con- 
 sequence of decrees obtained in the courts of law, he 
 wrested from the barons a great part of the lands which 
 had been granted to them by the inconsiderate bounty 
 of former monarchs, particularly during the feeble and 
 profuse reign of his predecessor, Henry the fourth. 
 
 * Note xxxv.
 
 HI A VIEW OF THE SECT. HI. 
 
 He did not give the entire conduct of affairs to per- 
 sons of noble birth, who were accustomed to occupy 
 every department of importance in peace or in war, as 
 if it had been a privilege peculiar to their order, to be 
 employed as the sole 'counsellors and ministers of the 
 crown. He often transacted business of great conse- 
 quence, without their intervention, and bestowed many 
 offices of power and trust on new men, devoted to his 
 interest *. He introduced a degree of state and dignity 
 into his court, which, being little known in Spain, while 
 it remained split into many small kingdoms, taught the 
 nobles to approach their sovereign with more ceremony, 
 and gradually rendered him the object of greater defer- 
 ence and respect. 
 
 particularly The annexing the masterships of the three military 
 by annexing d of St j Calatrava, and Alcantara, to the 
 
 the grand- 
 masterships crown, was another expedient, by which Ferdinand 
 
 orders of greatly augmented the revenue and power of the kings 
 the crown ; o f Spain. These orders were instituted in imitation of 
 those of the knights Templars and of St. John of Je- 
 rusalem, on purpose to wage perpetual war with the 
 mahometans, and to protect the pilgrims who visited 
 Compostella, or other places of eminent sanctity in 
 Spain. The zeal and superstition of the ages in which 
 they were founded, prompted persons of every rank to 
 bestow such liberal donations on those holy warriors, 
 that, in a short time, they engrossed a considerable 
 share in the property and wealth of the kingdom. The 
 masterships of these orders came to be stations of the 
 greatest power and opulence to which a Spanish noble- 
 man could be advanced. These high dignities were in 
 the disposal of the knights of the order, and placed the 
 persons on whom they conferred them almost on a level 
 with their sovereign b . Ferdinand, unwilling that the 
 nobility, whom he considered as already too formidable, 
 should derive such additional credit and influence from 
 
 Zurita, Annales de Arag. torn. vi. p. 22. b Note xxxvi.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 145 
 
 possessing the government of these wealthy fraternities, 
 
 was solicitous to wrest it out of their hands, and to vest 
 
 it in the crown. His measures for accomplishing this, A.D. 1476, 
 
 were wisely planned, and executed with vigour . By M 
 
 address, by promises, and by threats, he prevailed on 
 
 the knights of each order to place Isabella and him at 
 
 the head of it. Innocent the eighth and Alexander the 
 
 sixth gave this election the sanction of papal autho- 
 
 rity d ; and subsequent pontiffs rendered the annexation 
 
 of these masterships to the crown perpetual. 
 
 While Ferdinand, by this measure, diminished the and by cir- 
 power and influence of the nobility, and added new t 
 
 lustre or authority to the crown, he was taking other diction of 
 
 , . ,, the nobility. 
 
 important steps with a view to the same object. 1 he 
 sovereign jurisdiction, which the feudal barons exer- 
 cised within their own territories, was the pride and 
 distinction of their order. To have invaded openly a 
 privilege which they prized so highly, and in defence 
 of which they would have run so eagerly to arms, was a 
 measure too daring for a prince of Ferdinand's cautious 
 temper. He took advantage, however, of an oppor- 
 tunity which the state of his kingdoms and the spirit of 
 his people presented him, in order to undermine what 
 he durst not assault. The incessant depredations of 
 the Moors, the want of discipline among the troops 
 which were employed to oppose them, the frequent 
 civil wars between the crown and the nobility, as well 
 as the undiscerning rage with which the barons carried 
 on their private wars with each other, filled all the 
 provinces of Spain with disorder. Rapine, outrage, 
 and murder, became so common, as not only to inter- 
 rupt commerce, but, in a great measure, to suspend all 
 intercourse between one place and another. That se- 
 curity ad protection, which men expect from entering 
 
 '' Marian. Hist. lib. xxv. c. 5. 
 
 1 Zurita, Annales, torn. v. p. 22. /Klii Anton. Nebrissensis rerum a 
 Ferdinand, et Elizab. gestarum decades ii. apud Schot. script. Hispan. 
 i. 860. 
 
 VOL. III. L
 
 A VIEW OF THE SECT. HI. 
 
 into civil society, ceased in a great degree. Internal 
 ..rder and police, while the feudal institutions remained 
 in vigour, were so little objects of attention, and the 
 administration of justice was so extremely feeble, that 
 it would have been vain to have expected relief from 
 the established laws or the ordinary judges. But the 
 evil became so intolerable, and the inhabitants of cities, 
 who were the chief sufferers, grew so impatient of this 
 anarchy, that self-preservation forced them to have re- 
 1260. course to an extraordinary remedy. About the middle 
 of the thirteenth century, the cities in the kingdom of 
 Aragon, and, after their example, those in Castile, 
 formed themselves into an association, distinguished by 
 the name of the ' holy brotherhood.' They exacted a 
 certain contribution from each of the associated towns ; 
 they levied a considerable body of troops, in order to 
 protect travellers, and to pursue criminals ; they ap- 
 pointed judges, who opened their courts in various 
 parts of the kingdom. Whoever was guilty of mur- 
 der, robbery, or of any act that violated the public 
 peace, and was seized by the troops of the ' brother- 
 hood,' was carried before judges of their nomination, 
 who, without paying any regard to the exclusive and 
 sovereign jurisdiction, which the lord of the place 
 might claim, tried and condemned the criminals. By 
 the establishment of this fraternity, the prompt and 
 impartial administration of justice was restored ; and 
 together with it, internal tranquilh'ty and order began 
 to return. The nobles alone murmured at this salutary 
 institution. They complained of it as an encroachment 
 on one of their most valuable privileges. They remon- 
 strated against it in an high tone ; and, on some occa- 
 sions, refused to grant any aid to the crown, unless it 
 were abolished. Ferdinand, however, was sensible not 
 only of the good effects of the holy brotherhood with 
 respect to the police of his kingdoms, but perceived its 
 tendency to abridge, and at length to annihilate, the 
 territorial jurisdiction of the nobility. He counte-
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 147 
 
 nanced it on every occasion. He supported it with 
 the whole force of royal authority ; and, besides the 
 expedients employed by him in common with the other 
 monarchs of Europe, he availed himself of this insti- 
 tution, which was peculiar to his kingdom, in order to 
 limit and abolish that independent jurisdiction of the 
 nobility, which was no less inconsistent with the autho- 
 rity of the prince, than with the order of society e . 
 
 But though Ferdinand, by these measures, consider- Notwith- 
 ably enlarged the boundaries of prerogative, and ac- 
 
 quired a degree of influence and power far beyond th go- 
 what any of his predecessors had enjoyed, yet the limi- of Spafn 
 
 tations of the royal authority, as well as the barriers sti11 ex ' 
 
 tremely 
 
 against its encroachments, continued to be many and free. 
 strong. The spirit of liberty was vigorous among the 
 people of Spain ; the spirit of independence was high 
 among the nobility ; and though the love of glory, pe- 
 culiar to the Spaniards in every period of their history, 
 prompted them to support Ferdinand with zeal in his 
 foreign operations, and to afford him such aid as en- 
 abled him not only to undertake but to execute great 
 enterprises ; he reigned over his subjects with a juris- 
 diction less extensive than that of any of the great mo- 
 narchs in Europe. It will appear from many passages 
 in the following history, that, during a considerable part 
 of the reign of his successor, Charles the fifth, the 
 prerogative of the Spanisli crown was equally circum- 
 scribed. 
 
 The ancient government and laws in France so nearly Constitu- 
 resemble those of the other feudal kingdoms that such tlon and 
 
 govern- 
 
 a detail with respect to them, as was necessary, in order ment of 
 to convey some^ idea of the nature and effects of the 
 peculiar institutions which took place in Spain, would 
 be superfluous. In the view which I have exhibited of 
 the means by which the French monarchs acquired 
 such a full command of the national force of their king- 
 
 e Note xxxvii. 
 
 L2
 
 1 is A VIEW OF THE SECT. HI. 
 
 dom, as enabled them to engage in extensive schemes 
 of foreign operation, I have already pointed out the 
 great steps by which they advanced towards a more 
 ample possession of political power, and a more uncon- 
 trolled exercise of their royal prerogative. All that 
 now remains is to take notice of such particulars in the 
 constitution of France, as serve either to distinguish it 
 from that of other countries, or tend to throw any light 
 on the transactions of that period, to which the follow- 
 ing History extends. 
 Power of Under the French monarchs of the first race, the 
 
 the gene- roya l prerogative was very inconsiderable. The gene- 
 ral assem- ' 
 blies under ral assemblies of the nation, which met annually at 
 
 stated seasons, extended their authority to every de- 
 kings : partment of government. The power of electing kings, 
 of enacting laws, of redressing grievances, of conferring 
 donations on the prince, of passing judgment in the 
 last resort, with respect to every person and to every 
 cause, resided in this great convention of the nation, 
 under the Under the second race of kings, notwithstanding the 
 86001141 : power and splendour which the conquests of Charle- 
 magne added to the crown, the general assemblies of 
 the nation continued to possess extensive authority. 
 The right of determining which of the royal family 
 should be placed on the throne, was vested in them. 
 The princes, elevated to that dignity by their suffrage, 
 were accustomed regularly to call and to consult them 
 with respect to every affair of importance to the state, 
 and without their consent no law was passed, and no 
 new tax was levied. 
 
 under the But, by the time that Hugh Capet, the father of the 
 third race of kings, took possession of the throne of 
 France, such changes had happened in the political 
 state of the kingdom, as considerably affected the power 
 and jurisdiction of the general assembly of the nation. 
 The royal authority, in the hands of the degenerate 
 posterity of Charlemagne, had dwindled into insignifi- 
 cance and contempt. Every considerable proprietor of
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 14 
 
 land had formed his territory into a barony, almost in- 
 dependent of the sovereign. The dukes or governors 
 of provinces, the counts or governors of towns and small 
 districts, and the great officers of the crown, had ren- 
 dered these dignities, which originally were granted only 
 during pleasure or for life, hereditary in their families. 
 Each of these had usurped all the rights which hitherto 
 had been deemed the distinctions of royalty, particu- 
 larly the privileges of dispensing justice within their 
 own domains, of coining money, and of waging war. 
 Every district was governed by local customs, acknow- 
 ledged a distinct lord, and pursued a separate interest. 
 The formality of doing homage to their sovereign, was 
 almost the only act of subjection which those haughty 
 barons would perform, and that bound them no farther 
 than they were willing to acknowledge its obligation f . 
 
 In a kingdom broken into so many independent ba- The power 
 ronies, hardly any common principle of union remained ; of the e ~ 
 and the general assembly, in its deliberations, could sembly 
 scarcely consider the nation as forming one body, or J^ ^jjjg 
 establish common regulations to be of equal force in and ex- 
 every part. Within the immediate domains of the 
 crown, the king might publish laws, and they were 
 obeyed, because there he was acknowledged as the 
 only lord. But if he had aimed at rendering these laws 
 general, that would have alarmed the barons as an en- 
 croachment upon the independence of their jurisdiction. 
 The barons, when met in the great national convention, 
 avoided, with no less care, the enacting of general laws 
 to be observed in every part of the kingdom, because 
 the execution of them must have been vested in the 
 king, and would have enlarged that paramount power, 
 which was the object of their jealousy. Thus, under 
 the descendants of Hugh Capet, the states-general (for 
 that was the name by which the supreme assembly of 
 the Trench nation came then to be distinguished) lost 
 
 ' Note xxxviii.
 
 l.-,o A VIEW OF THE SECT. HI. 
 
 their legislative authority, or at least entirely relin- 
 quished the exercise of it. From that period, the ju- 
 risdiction of the states-general extended no farther than 
 to the imposition of new taxes, the determination of 
 questions with respect to the right of succession to the 
 crown, the settling of the regency when the preceding 
 monarch had not fixed it by his will, and the presenting 
 remonstrances enumerating the grievances of which the 
 nation wished to obtain redress. 
 
 As, during several centuries, the monarchs of Eu- 
 rope seldom demanded extraordinary subsidies of their 
 subjects, and the other events, which required the in- 
 terposition of the states, rarely occurred, their meetings 
 in France were not frequent. They were summoned 
 occasionally by their kings, when "compelled by their 
 wants or by their fears to have recourse to the great 
 convention of their people ; but they did not, like the 
 diet in Germany, the cortes in Spain, or the parliament 
 in England, form an essential member of the constitu- 
 tion, the regular exertion of whose powers was requisite 
 to give vigour and order to government. 
 
 The crown When the states of France ceased to exercise legis- 
 acquire le- lative authority, the kings began to assume it. They 
 gisiatiye ventured at first on acts of legislation with great reserve, 
 and after taking every precaution that could prevent 
 their subjects from being alarmed at the exercise of a 
 new power. They did not at once issue their ordi- 
 nances in a tone of authority and command. They treat- 
 ed with their subjects ; they pointed out what was best ; 
 and allured them to comply with it. By degrees, how- 
 ever, as the prerogative of the crown extended, and as 
 the supreme jurisdiction of the royal courts came to be 
 established, the kings of France assumed more openly 
 the style and authority of lawgivers ; and, before the 
 beginning of the fifteenth century, the complete legis- 
 lative power was vested in the crown 8 . 
 
 * Note xxxix.
 
 SECT. HI. STATE OF EUROPE. 151 
 
 Having secured this important acquisition, the steps and the 
 which led to the right of imposing taxes were rendered ^"^ of 
 few and easy. The people, accustomed to see their so- taxes, 
 vereigns issue ordinances, by their sole authority, which 
 regulated points of the greatest consequence with re- 
 spect to the property of their subjects, were not alarmed 
 when they were required, by the royal edicts, to con- 
 tribute certain sums towards supplying the exigencies 
 of government, and carrying forward the measures of 
 the nation. When Charles the seventh, and Louis the 
 eleventh, first ventured to exercise this new power, in 
 the manner which I have already described, the gradual 
 increase of the royal authority had so imperceptibly 
 prepared the minds of the people of France for this 
 innovation, that it excited no commotion in the king- 
 dom, and seems scarcely to have given rise to any mur- 
 mur or complaint. 
 
 When the kings of France had thus engrossed every Govem- 
 power which can be exerted in government ; when the j^cif 
 
 right of making laws, of levying money, of keeping an becomes 
 
 n i i purely mo- 
 
 army ot mercenaries in constant pay, of declaring war, narchical. 
 
 and of concluding peace, centred in the crown, the 
 constitution of the kingdom, which, under the first race 
 of kings, was nearly democratical ; which, under the 
 second race, became an aristocracy ; terminated, under 
 the third race, in a pure monarchy. Every thing that 
 tended to preserve the appearance, or revive the me- 
 mory, of the ancient mixed government, seems from 
 that period to have been industriously avoided. Dur- 
 ing the long and active reign of Francis the first, the 
 variety as well as extent of whose operations obliged 
 liini to lay many heavy impositions on his subjects, the 
 states-general of France were not once assembled, nor 
 were the people once allowed to exert the power of 
 taxing themselves, which, according to the original 
 ideas of feudal government, was a right essential to 
 every freeman. 
 
 Two things, however, remained, which moderated
 
 132 A VIEW OF THE SECT. HI. 
 
 The exer- the exercise of the regal prerogative, and restrained it 
 cbeofpre- w j t j im sucn bounds as preserved the constitution of 
 restrained France from degenerating into mere despotism. The 
 viie'gw o" rights and privileges claimed by the nobility, must be 
 the nobi- considered as one barrier against the absolute domi- 
 nion of the crown. Though the nobles of France had 
 lost that political power which was vested in their order 
 as a body, they still retained the personal rights and 
 preeminence which they derived from their rank. 
 They preserved a consciousness of elevation above 
 other classes of citizens ; an exemption from burthens 
 to which persons of inferior condition were subject ; a 
 contempt of the occupations in which they were en- 
 gaged ; the privilege of assuming ensigns that indicated 
 their own dignity ; a right to be treated with a certain 
 degree of deference during peace ; and a claim to va- 
 rious distinctions when in the field. Many of these 
 pretensions were not founded on the words of statutes, 
 or derived from positive laws ; they were defined and 
 ascertained by the maxims of honour, a title more deli- 
 cate, but no less sacred. These rights, established 
 and protected by a principle equally vigilant in guard- 
 ing, and intrepid in defending them, are to the sove- 
 reign himself obj ects of respect and veneration. Where- 
 ever they stand in its way, the royal prerogative is 
 bounded. The violence of a despot may exterminate 
 such an order of men ; but as long as it subsists, and 
 its ideas of personal distinction remain entire, the 
 power of the prince has limits h . 
 
 As in France the body of nobility was very nume- 
 rous, and the individuals of which it was composed re- 
 tained an high sense of their own preeminence, to this 
 we may ascribe, in a great measure, the mode of exer- 
 cising the royal prerogative which peculiarly distin- 
 guishes the government of that kingdom. An inter- 
 
 " De I'Esprit des Loix, liv. ii. c. 4. Dr. Ferguson's Essay on the Hist, 
 of Civil Society, part. i. sect. 10.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 153 
 
 mediate order was placed between the monarch and his 
 other subjects, and in every act of authority it became 
 necessary to attend to its privileges, and not only to 
 guard against any real violation of them, but to avoid 
 any suspicion of supposing it to be possible that they 
 might be violated. Thus a species of government was 
 established in France, unknown in the ancient world, 
 that of a monarchy, in which the power of the sove- 
 reign, though unconfined by any legal or constitutional 
 restraint, has certain bounds set to it by the ideas 
 which one class of his subjects entertain concerning 
 their own dignity. 
 
 The jurisdiction of the parliaments in France, parti- and by the 
 
 cularly that of Paris, was the other barrier which J nsdlctien 
 
 ol the par- 
 served to confine the exercise of the royal prerogative liaments, 
 
 within certain limits. The parliament of Paris was ori- 
 ginally the court of the kings of France, to which they Paris. 
 committed the supreme administration of justice within 
 their own domains, as well as the power of deciding 
 with respect to all cases brought before it by appeals 
 from the courts of the barons. When, in consequence 
 of events and regulations which have been mentioned 
 formerly, the time and place of its meeting were fixed ; 
 when not only the form of its procedure, but the prin- 
 ciples on which it decided, were rendered regular and 
 consistent ; when every cause of importance was finally 
 determined there ; and when the people became accus- 
 tomed to resort thither as to the supreme temple of jus- 
 tice ; the parliament of Paris rose to high estimation in 
 the kingdom, its members acquired dignity, and its de- 
 crees were submitted to with deference. Nor was this 
 the only source of the power and influence which the 
 parliament obtained. The kings of France, when they 
 first began to assume the legislative power, in order to 
 reconcile the minds of their people to this new exertion 
 of prerogative, produced their edicts and ordinances in 
 the parliament of Paris, that they might be approved 
 of and registered there, before they were published
 
 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 and declared to be of authority in the kingdom. Dur- 
 ing the intervals between the meetings of the states- 
 general of the kingdom, or during those reigns in 
 which the states- general were not assembled, the mo- 
 narchs of France were accustomed to consult the par- 
 liament of Paris with respect to the most arduous 
 affairs of government, and frequently regulated their 
 conduct by its advice, in declaring war, in conclud- 
 ing peace, and in other transactions of public con- 
 cern. Thus there was erected in the kingdom a tri- 
 bunal, which became the great depository of the laws, 
 and, by the uniform tenour of its decrees, established 
 principles of justice and forms of proceeding which 
 were considered as so sacred, that even the sovereign 
 power of the monarch durst not venture to disregard 
 or to violate them. The members of this illustrious 
 body, though they neither possess legislative authority, 
 nor can be considered as the representatives of the 
 people, have availed themselves of the reputation and 
 influence which they had acquired among their coun- 
 trymen, in order to make a stand, to the utmost of 
 their ability, against every unprecedented and exor- 
 bitant exertion of the prerogative. In every period of 
 the French history, they have merited the praise of be- 
 ing the virtuous but feeble guardians of the rights and 
 privileges of the nation '. 
 
 Constitu- After taking this view of the political state of France, 
 turn and j p rocee j t o consider that of the German empire, from 
 
 government r . 
 
 of the Ger- which Charles the fifth derived his title of highest dig- 
 nity. In explaining the constitution of this great and 
 complex body at the beginning of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, I shall avoid entering into such a detail as would 
 involve my readers in that inextricable labyrinth, which 
 is formed by the multiplicity of its tribunals, the num- 
 ber of its members, their interfering rights, and by the 
 endless discussions or refinements of the public lawyers 
 of Germany, with respect to all these. 
 ' Note xl.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 155 
 
 The empire of Charlemagne was a structure erected its state 
 in so short a time, that it could not be permanent. ^trle 
 Under his immediate successor it began to totter ; and magne and 
 soon after fell to pieces. The crown of Gennany was S cendants. 
 separated from that of France, and the descendants of 
 Charlemagne established two great monarchies, so si- 
 tuated as to give rise to a perpetual rivalship and 
 enmity between them. But the princes of the race of 
 ^Charlemagne who were placed on the imperial throne, 
 were not altogether so degenerate, as those of the 
 same family who reigned in France. In the hands 
 of the former the royal authority retained some vigour, 
 and the nobles of Germany, though possessed of exten- 
 sive privileges as well as ample territories, did not so 
 early attain independence. The great offices of the 
 crown continued to be at the disposal of the sovereign, 
 and, during a long period, fiefs remained in their ori- 
 ginal state, without becoming hereditary and perpetual 
 in the families of the persons to whom they had been 
 granted. 
 
 At length the German branch of the family of Charle- other fa- 
 magne became extinct, and his feeble descendants "^ ^ 
 who reigned in France had sunk into such contempt, the impe- 
 that the Germans, without looking towards them, ex- ni 
 ercised the right inherent in a free people ; and, in a 
 general assembly of the nation, elected Conrad, count A. D. 911. 
 of Franconia, emperor. After him Henry of Saxony, 
 and his descendants, the three Othos, were placed in 
 succession on the imperial throne, by the suffrages 
 of their countrymen. The extensive territories of the 
 Saxon emperors, their eminent abilities and enterpris- 
 ing genius, not only added new vigour to the imperial 
 dignity, but raised it to higher power and preemi- 
 nence. Otho the great marched at the head of a nu- A.D. 962. 
 merous army into Italy, and, after the example of 
 Charlemagne, gave law to that country. Every power 
 there recognised his authority. He created popes, 
 and deposed them, by his sovereign mandate. He an-
 
 156 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. in. 
 
 The Ger- 
 man nobili- 
 ty acquire 
 independ- 
 ent and so- 
 vereign 
 authority. 
 
 The Ger- 
 man eccle- 
 siastics 
 raised to 
 the same 
 power. 
 
 nexed the kingdom of Italy to the German empire. 
 Elated with his success, he assumed the title of Caesar 
 Augustus k . A prince born in the heart of Germany 
 pretended to be the successor of the emperors of an- 
 cient Rome, and claimed a right to the same power and 
 prerogative. 
 
 But while the emperors, by means of these new 
 titles and new dominions, gradually acquired addi- 
 tional authority and splendour, the nobility of Ger- 
 many had gone on at the same time extending their 
 privileges and jurisdiction. The situation of affairs 
 was favourable to their attempts. The vigour which 
 Charlemagne had given to government quickly relaxed. 
 The incapacity of some of his successors was such, as 
 would have encouraged vassals less enterprising than 
 the nobles of that age to have claimed new rights, and 
 to have assumed new powers. The civil wars in which 
 other emperors were engaged, obliged them to pay 
 perpetual court to their subjects, on whose support 
 they depended, and not only to connive at their usurpa- 
 tions, but to permit and even to authorize them. Fiefs 
 gradually became hereditary. They were transmitted 
 not only hi the direct, but also in the collateral line. 
 The investiture of them was demanded not only by 
 male but by female heirs. Every baron began to ex- 
 ercise sovereign jurisdiction within his own domains; 
 and the dukes and counts of Germany took wide steps 
 towards rendering their territories distinct and inde- 
 pendent states '. The Saxon emperors observed their 
 progress, and were aware of its tendency. But as they 
 could not hope to humble vassals already grown too po- 
 tent, unless they had turned their whole force as well as 
 attention to that enterprise, and as they were extremely 
 intent on their expeditions into Italy, which they could 
 not undertake without the concurrence of their nobles, 
 
 k Annalista Saxo, etc. ap. Struv. Corp. vol. i. p. 246. 
 1 Pfeffel. Abr6g6, etc. p. 120. 152. Lib. Feudor. tit. i.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 157 
 
 they were solicitous not to alarm them by any direct 
 attack on their privileges and jurisdictions. They 
 aimed, however, at undermining their power. With 
 this view, they inconsiderately bestowed additional ter- 
 ritories, and accumulated new honours on the clergy, 
 in hopes that this order might serve as a counterpoise 
 to that of the nobility in any future struggle" 1 . 
 
 The unhappy effects of this fatal errour in policy The fatal 
 
 were quickly felt. Under the emperors of the Franco- effects f 
 . aggrandiz 
 
 nian and Swabian lines, whom the Germans, by their ing the 
 voluntary election, placed on the imperial throne, a 
 new face of things appeared, and a scene was exhibited 
 in Germany, which astonished all Christendom at that 
 time, and in the present age appears almost incredi- 
 ble. The popes, hitherto, depended on the emperors, 
 and, indebted for power as well as dignity to their 
 beneficence and protection, began to claim a superior 
 jurisdiction ; and, in virtue of authority which they 
 pretended to derive from heaven, tried, condemned, 
 excommunicated, and deposed, their former masters. 
 Nor is this to be considered merely as a frantic sally of 
 passion in a pontiff intoxicated with high ideas con- 
 cerning the extent of priestly domination, and the pleni- 
 tude of papal authority. Gregory the seventh was able 
 as well as daring. His presumption and violence were 
 accompanied with political discernment and sagacity. 
 He had observed that the princes and nobles of Ger- 
 many had acquired such considerable territories, and 
 such extensive jurisdiction, as rendered them not only 
 formidable to the emperors, but disposed them to fa- 
 vour any attempt to circumscribe their power. He 
 foresaw that the ecclesiastics of Germany, raised almost 
 to a level with its princes, were ready to support any 
 person who would stand forth as the protector of their 
 privileges and independence. With both of these Gre- 
 gory negotiated, and had secured many devoted ad- 
 
 Pfeffel. Abrfge, etc. p. 154.
 
 158 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 herents among them, before he ventured to enter the 
 lists against the head of the empire. 
 
 The con- He began his rupture with Henry the fourth upon 
 
 en^he a P retext tnat was popular and plausible. He corn- 
 
 popes and plained of the venality and corruption with which the 
 
 anTlne*' emperor had granted the investiture of benefices to 
 
 conse- ecclesiastics. He contended that this right belonged 
 
 these. to him as the head of the church ; he required Henry 
 
 to confine himself within the bounds of his civil juris- 
 
 diction, and to abstain for the future from such sacrile- 
 
 gious encroachments on the spiritual dominion. All the 
 
 censures of the church were denounced against Henry, 
 
 because he refused to relinquish those powers which his 
 
 predecessors had uniformly exercised. The most con- 
 
 siderable of the German princes and ecclesiastics were 
 
 excited to take arms against him. His mother, his 
 
 wife, his sons, were wrought upon to disregard all the 
 
 ties of blood as well as of duty, and to join the party of 
 
 his enemies n . Such were the successful arts with which 
 
 the court of Rome inflamed the superstitious zeal, and 
 
 conducted the factious spirit, of the Germans and 
 
 Italians, that an emperor, distinguished not only for 
 
 many virtues, but possessed of considerable talents, 
 
 was at length obliged to appear as a supplicant at the 
 
 gate of the castle in which the pope resided, and to 
 
 stand there three days barefooted, in the depth of 
 
 \.D.i077.winter, imploring a pardon, which at length he ob- 
 
 tained with difficulty . 
 
 This act of humiliation degraded the imperial dig- 
 nity. Nor was the depression momentary only. The 
 contest between Gregory and Henry gave rise to the 
 two great factions of the guelfs and ghibellines; the 
 former of which supporting the pretensions of the 
 popes, and the latter defending the rights of the em- 
 peror, kept Germany and Italy in perpetual agitation 
 
 " Anna!. German, ap. Struv. i. p. 325. 
 Note xli.
 
 SECT. m. STATE OF EUROPE. 159 
 
 during three centuries. A regular system for humbling The impe- 
 the emperors and circumscribing their power was form- -' 
 ed, and adhered to uniformly throughout that period, dually de- 
 The popes, the free states in Italy, the nobility and 
 ecclesiastics of Germany, were all interested in its suc- 
 cess ; and notwithstanding the return of some short in- 
 tervals of vigour, under the administration of a few 
 able emperors, the imperial 'authority continued to de- 
 cline. During the anarchy of the long interregnum A.D. 1256. 
 subsequent to the death of William of Holland, it 
 dwindled down almost to nothing. Rodulph of Haps- A.D. 1273. 
 burg, the founder of the house of Austria, and who 
 first opened the way to its future grandeur, was at 
 length elected emperor, not that he might reestablish 
 and extend the imperial authority, but because his ter- 
 ritories and influence were so inconsiderable as to ex- 
 cite no jealousy in the German princes, who were will- 
 ing to preserve the forms of a constitution, the power 
 and vigour of which they had destroyed. Several of 
 his successors were placed on the imperial throne from 
 the same motive; and almost every remaining prero- 
 gative was wrested out of the hands of feeble princes 
 unable to exercise or to defend them. 
 
 During this period of turbulence and confusion, the A total 
 constitution of the Germanic body underwent a total th* political 
 change. The ancient names of courts and magistrates, constitution 
 together with the original forms and appearance of p i re< 
 policy, were preserved ; but such new privileges and 
 jurisdiction were assumed, and so many various rights 
 established, that the same species of government no 
 longer subsisted. The princes, the great nobility, the 
 dignified ecclesiastics, the free cities, had taken ad- 
 vantage of the interregnum, which I have mentioned, 
 to establish or to extend their usurpations. They 
 claimed and exercised the right of governing their re- 
 spective territories with full sovereignty. They ac- 
 knowledged no superior with respect to any point re- 
 lative to the interior administration and police of their
 
 1GO A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 domains. They enacted laws, imposed taxes, coined 
 money, declared war, concluded peace, and exerted 
 every prerogative peculiar to independent states. The 
 ideas of order and political union, which had originally 
 formed the various provinces of Germany into one 
 body, were almost entirely lost ; and the society must 
 have dissolved, if the forms of feudal subordination 
 had not preserved such an appearance of connexion or 
 dependence among the various members of the com- 
 munity, as preserved it from falling to pieces. 
 
 Expedients This bond of union, however, was extremely feeble ; 
 
 an end"!" 5 an( l hardly any principle remained in the German con- 
 
 this state of gtitution, of sufficient force to maintain public order, or 
 anarchy ; . 1 . 
 
 even to ascertain personal security. From the acces- 
 sion of Rodulph of Hapsburg to the reign of Maxi- 
 milian, the immediate predecessor of Charles the fifth, 
 the empire felt every calamity which a state must en- 
 dure, when the authority of government is so much 
 relaxed as to have lost its proper degree of vigour. 
 The causes of dissension, among that vast number of 
 members which composed the Germanic body, were 
 infinite and unavoidable. These gave rise to perpetual 
 private wars, which were carried on with all the vio- 
 lence that usually accompanies resentment, when unre- 
 strained by superior authority. Rapine, outrage, ex- 
 actions, became universal. Commerce was interrupted; 
 industry suspended; and every part of Germany re- 
 sembled a country which an enemy had plundered and 
 left desolate p . The variety of expedients employed 
 with a view to restore order and tranquillity, prove 
 that the grievances occasioned by this state of anarchy 
 ' had grown intolerable. Arbiters were appointed to 
 terminate the differences among the several states. 
 The cities united in a league, the object of which was 
 to check the rapine and extortions of the nobility. 
 
 P See above, page 39, and note xxi. Datt. de pace publica imper. p. 25, 
 no. 53. p. 28, no. 26. p. 35, no. 1 1.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 1G1 
 
 The nobility formed confederacies, on purpose to main- 
 tain tranquillity among their own order. Germany 
 was divided into several circles, in each of which a 
 provincial and partial jurisdiction was established, to 
 supply the place of a public and common tribunal q . 
 
 But all these remedies were so ineffectual, that they particu- 
 served only to demonstrate the violence of that anarchy t h e institu- 
 which prevailed, and the insufficiency of the means f lon f the 
 employed to correct it. At length Maximilian reesta- chamber. 
 blished public order in the empire, by instituting the 
 ' imperial chamber,' a tribunal composed of judges A. D. 1495. 
 named partly by the emperor, partly by the several 
 states, and vested with authority to decide finally con- 
 cerning all differences among the members of the Ger- 
 manic body. A few years after, by giving a new form A. D. 1512. 
 to the ' aulic council,' which takes cognizance of all 
 feudal causes, and such as belong to the emperor's im- 
 mediate jurisdiction, he restored some degree of vigour 
 to the imperial authority. 
 
 But notwithstanding the salutary effects of these re- At the be- 
 gulations and improvements, the political constitution f^sh^ 
 of the German empire, at the commencement of the teenth 
 period of which I propose to write the history, was of the empire 
 a species so peculiar, as not to resemble perfectly any a . n a 5 *? 01 *- 
 form of government known either in the ancient or sovereign 
 modern world. It was a complex body, formed by the states - 
 association of several states, each of which possessed 
 sovereign and independent jurisdiction, within its own 
 territories. Of all the members which composed this 
 united body the emperor was the head. In his name, 
 all decrees and regulations, with respect to points of 
 common concern, were issued ; and to him the power 
 of carrying them into execution was committed. But 
 thi.- appearance of monarchical power in the emperor 
 was more than counterbalanced by the influence of the 
 princes and states of the empire in every act of admi- 
 
 i Datt. passim. Struv. Corp. Hist. i. 510, etc. 
 VOL. III. M
 
 162 A VIEW OF THE SECT. HI. 
 
 nistration. No law extending to the whole body could 
 pass, no resolution that affected the general interest 
 could be taken, without the approbation of the diet 
 of the empire. In this assembly, every sovereign prince 
 and state of the Germanic body had a right to be 
 present, to deliberate, and to vote. The decrees or 
 * recesses' of the diet were the laws of the empire, 
 which the emperor was bound to ratify and enforce. 
 Peculiar!- Under this aspect, the constitution of the empire 
 nature of* a PP ears a regular confederacy, similar to the Acha?an 
 this associ- league in ancient Greece, or to that of the United Pro- 
 vinces and of the Swiss cantons in modern times. But 
 if viewed in another light, striking peculiarities in its 
 political state present themselves. The Germanic body 
 was not formed by the union of members altogether 
 distinct and independent. All the princes and states, 
 joined in this association, were originally subject to the 
 emperors, and acknowledged them as sovereigns. Be- 
 sides this, they originally held their lands as imperial 
 fiefs, and, in consequence of this tenure, owed the em- 
 peror all those services which feudal vassals are bound 
 to perform to their liege lord. But though this po- 
 litical subjection was entirely at an end, and the in- 
 fluence of the feudal relation much diminished, the 
 ancient forms and institutions, introduced while the 
 emperors governed Germany with authority not infe- 
 rior to that which the other monarchs of Europe pos- 
 sessed, still remained. Thus an opposition was esta- 
 blished between the genius of the government, and the 
 forms of administration in the German empire. The 
 former considered the emperor only as the head of a 
 confederacy, the members of which, by their voluntary 
 choice, have raised him to that dignity; the latter 
 seemed to imply, that he is really invested with sove- 
 The defects reign power. By this circumstance, such principles 
 titut!oof of nostuit y antl discord were interwoven into the frame 
 the empire; of the Germanic body, as affected each of its members, 
 rendering their interior union incomplete, and their
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 163 
 
 external efforts feeble and irregular. The pernicious 
 influence of this defect inherent in the constitution of 
 the empire is so considerable, that, without attending 
 to it, we cannot fully comprehend many transactions in 
 the reign of Charles the fifth, or form just ideas con- 
 cerning the genius of the German government. 
 
 The emperors of Germany, at the beginning of the arising from 
 sixteenth century, were distinguished by the most the hmited 
 pompous titles, and by such ensigns of dignity, as in- the em- 
 timated their authority to be superior to that of all P* 1 8 ' 
 other monarchs. The greatest princes of the empire 
 attended, and served them, on some occasions, as the 
 officers of their household. They exercised preroga- 
 tives which no other sovereign ever claimed. They 
 retained pretensions to all the extensive powers which 
 their predecessors had enjoyed in any former age. 
 But, at the same time, instead of possessing that ample 
 domain, which had belonged to the ancient emperors 
 of Germany, and which stretched from Basil to Co- 
 logne, along both banks of the Rhine r , they were 
 stripped of all territorial property, and had not a single 
 city, a single castle, a single foot of land, that belonged 
 to them as heads of the empire. As their domain 
 was alienated, their stated revenues were reduced al- 
 most to nothing ; and the extraordinary aids, which on 
 a few occasions they obtained, were granted sparingly 
 and paid with reluctance. The princes and states of 
 the empire, though they seemed to recognise the im- 
 perial authority, were subjects only in name, each of 
 them possessing a complete municipal jurisdiction with- 
 in the precincts of his own territories. 
 
 From this ill-compacted frame of government effects from the 
 that were unavoidable resulted. The emperors, daz- [J^^ 
 zled with the splendour of their titles and the external and pre- 
 signs of vast authority, were apt to imagine themselves te 
 to be the real sovereigns of Germany, and were led to 
 ;-. 
 
 ' Pfeffel. Abrege, etc. p. 241. 
 
 M2
 
 104 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 aim continually at recovering the exercise of those 
 powers which the forms of the constitution seemed to 
 vest in them, and which their predecessors, Charle- 
 magne and the Othos, had actually enjoyed. The 
 princes and states, aware of the nature as well as ex- 
 tent of these pretensions, were perpetually on their 
 guard, in order to watch all the motions of the imperial 
 court, and to circumscribe its power within limits still 
 more narrow. The emperors, in support of their claims, 
 appealed to ancient forms and institutions, which the 
 states held to be obsolete. The states founded their 
 rights on recent practice and modern privileges, which 
 the emperors considered as usurpations. 
 
 from the This jealousy of the imperial authority, together 
 whicJfthey w ^^ tne PP os iti n between it and the rights of the 
 were states, increased considerably from the time that the 
 emperors were elected, not by the collective body of 
 German nobles, but by a few princes of chief dignity. 
 During a long period, all the members of the Ger- 
 manic body had a right to assemble, and to make 
 choice of the person whom they appointed to be their 
 head. But amidst the violence and anarchy which 
 prevailed for several centuries in the empire, seven 
 princes who possessed the most extensive territories, 
 and who had obtained an hereditary title to the great 
 offices of the state, acquired the exclusive privilege of 
 nominating the emperor. This right was confirmed 
 to them by the ' golden bull ;' the mode of exercising 
 it was ascertained, and they were dignified with the 
 appellation of ' electors.' The nobility and free cities 
 being thus stripped of a privilege which they had once 
 enjoyed, were less connected with a prince towards 
 whose elevation they had not contributed by their suf- 
 frages, and came to be more apprehensive of his au- 
 thority. The electors, by their extensive power, and 
 the distinguishing privileges which they possessed, be- 
 came formidable to the emperors, with whom they 
 were placed almost on a level in several acts of juris-
 
 SECT. HI. STATE OF EUROPE. 165 
 
 diction. Thus the introduction of the electoral college 
 into the empire, and the authority which it acquired, 
 instead of diminishing, contributed to strengthen, the 
 principles of hostility and discord in the Germanic 
 constitution. 
 
 These were farther augmented by the various and from the 
 repugnant forms of civil policy in the several states fa^sof 
 
 which composed the Germanic body. It is no easy govem- 
 
 , i . /. . ment esta- 
 
 matter to render the union of independent states per- Wished in 
 
 feet and entire, even when the ffenius and forms of th ^ . s * ates 
 
 which com- 
 
 their respective governments happen to be altogether posed the 
 similar. But in the German empire, which was a con- 
 federacy of princes, of ecclesiastics, and of free cities, 
 it was impossible that they could incorporate thorough- 
 ly. The free cities were small republics, in which the 
 maxims and spirit peculiar to that species of govern- 
 ment prevailed. The princes arid nobles to whom 
 supreme jurisdiction belonged, possessed a sort of mo- 
 narchical power within their own territories, and the 
 forms of their interior administration nearly resembled 
 those of the great feudal kingdoms. The interests, 
 the ideas, the objects, of states so differently consti- 
 tuted, cannot be the same. Nor could their common 
 deliberations be carried on with the same spirit, while 
 the love of liberty, and attention to commerce, were 
 the reigning principles in the cities ; while the desire of 
 power, and ardour for military glory, were the govern- 
 ing passions of the princes and nobility. 
 
 The secular and ecclesiastical members of the empire from the 
 were as little fitted for union as the free cities and the 
 
 nobility. Considerable territories had been granted to the secular 
 several of the German bishoprics and abbeys, and 
 
 some of the highest offices in the empire, having been members ; 
 annexed to them inalienably, were held by the eccle- 
 siastics raised to these dignities. The younger sons of 
 noblemen of the second order, who had devoted them- 
 selves to the church, were commonly promoted to these 
 stations of eminence and power ; and it was no small
 
 166 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. in. 
 
 from the 
 unequal 
 distribu- 
 tion of 
 wealth and 
 power 
 among the 
 members. 
 
 All these 
 render the 
 Germanic 
 body inca- 
 
 mortification to the princes and great nobility, to see 
 persons raised from an inferior rank to the same level 
 with themselves, or even exalted to superior dignity. 
 The education of these churchmen, the genius of their 
 profession, and their connexion with the court of Rome, 
 rendered their character as well as their interest dif- 
 ferent from those of the other members of the Ger- 
 manic body, with whom they were called to act in con- 
 cert. Thus another source of jealousy and variance 
 was opened, which ought not to be overlooked when 
 we are searching into the nature of the German con- 
 stitution. 
 
 To all these causes of dissension may be added one 
 more, arising from the unequal distribution of power 
 and wealth among the states of the empire. The elec- 
 tors, and other nobles of the highest rank, not only 
 possessed sovereign jurisdiction, but governed such ex- 
 tensive, populous, and rich countries, as rendered them 
 great princes. Many of the other members, though 
 they enjoyed all the rights of sovereignty, ruled over 
 such petty domains, that their real power bore no pro- 
 portion to this high prerogative. A well-compacted 
 and vigorous confederacy could not be formed of such 
 dissimilar states. The weaker were jealous, timid, and 
 unable either to assert or to defend their just privileges. 
 The more powerful were apt to assume and to become 
 oppressive. The electors and emperors, by turns, en- 
 deavoured to extend their own authority, by encroach- 
 ing on those feeble members of the Germanic body, 
 who sometimes defended their rights with much spirit ; 
 but more frequently, being overawed or corrupted, 
 they tamely surrendered their privileges, or meanly 
 favoured the designs formed against them 5 . 
 
 After contemplating all these principles of disunion 
 and opposition in the constitution of the German em- 
 pire, it will be easy to account for the want of concord 
 
 Note xlii.
 
 SECT. m. STATE OF EUROPE. 167 
 
 and uniformity, conspicuous in its councils and pro- P a ble of 
 ceedings. That slow, dilatory, distrustful, and irreso- uniolf ami 
 lute spirit, which characterizes all its deliberations, will vi g ur - 
 appear natural in a body, the junction of whose mem- 
 bers was so incomplete, the different parts of which 
 were held together by such feeble ties, and set at 
 variance by such powerful motives. But the empire 
 of Germany, nevertheless, comprehended countries of 
 such great extent, and was inhabited by such a martial 
 and hardy race of men, that when the abilities of an 
 emperor, or zeal for any common cause, could rouse 
 this unwieldy body to put forth its strength, it acted 
 with almost irresistible force. In the following History 
 we shall find, that as the measures on which Charles 
 the fifth was most intent, were often thwarted or ren- 
 dered abortive by the spirit of jealousy and division 
 peculiar to the Germanic constitution ; so it was by the 
 influence which he acquired over the princes of the 
 empire, and by engaging them to cooperate with him, 
 that he was enabled to make some of the greatest 
 efforts which distinguish his reign. 
 
 The Turkish history is so blended, during the reign vi ew of the 
 of Charles the fifth, with that of the great nations hi Turkish f- 
 
 vernment ; 
 
 Europe, and the Ottoman porte interposed so often, 
 and with such decisive influence, in the wars and ne- 
 gotiations of the Christian princes, that some previous 
 account of the state of government in that great em- 
 pire, is no less necessary for the information of my 
 readers, than those views of the constitution of other 
 kingdoms which I have already exhibited to them. 
 
 It has been the fate of the southern and more fertile its origin; 
 parts of Asia, at different periods, to be conquered by 
 that warlike and hardy race of men who inhabit the 
 vast country known to the ancients by the name of 
 Scythia, and among the moderns by that of Tartary. 
 One tribe of these people, called Turks or Turcomans, 
 extended its conquests, under various leaders, and dur- 
 ing several centuries, from the shore of the Caspian
 
 168 A VIEW OF THE SECT. in. 
 
 sea to the straits of the Dardanelles. Towards the 
 middle of the fifteenth century, these formidable con- 
 querors took Constantinople by storm, and established 
 the seat of their government in that imperial city. 
 Greece, Moldavia, Walachia, and the other provinces 
 of the ancient kingdoms of Thrace and Macedonia, 
 together with part of Hungary, were subjected to their 
 power. 
 
 iu despotic But though the seat of the Turkish government was 
 fixed in Europe, and the sultans obtained possession 
 of such extensive dominions in that quarter of the 
 globe, the genius of their policy continued to be purely 
 Asiatic; and may be properly termed a despotism, in 
 contradistinction to those monarchical and republican 
 forms of government which we have been hitherto con- 
 templating. The supreme power was vested in sultans 
 of the Ottoman race, that blood being deemed so sa- 
 cred, that no other was thought worthy of the throne. 
 From this elevation, these sovereigns could look down 
 and behold all their subjects reduced to the same level 
 before them. The maxims of Turkish policy do not 
 authorize any of those institutions, which, in other 
 countries, limit the exercise, or moderate the rigour, 
 of monarchical power : they admit neither of any great 
 court with constitutional and permanent jurisdiction to 
 interpose, both in enacting laws, and in superintending 
 the execution of them ; nor of a body of hereditary 
 nobles, whose sense of their own preeminence, whose 
 consciousness of what is due to their rank and charac- 
 ter, whose jealousy of their privileges circumscribe the 
 authority of the prince, and serve not only as a barrier 
 against the excesses of his caprice, but stand as an in- 
 termediate order between him and the people. Under 
 the Turkish government, the political condition of every 
 subject is equal. To be employed in the service of the 
 sultan is the only circumstance that confers distinction. 
 Even this distinction is rather official than personal, 
 and so closely annexed to the station in which any in-
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 169 
 
 dividual serves, that it is scarcely communicated to the 
 persons of those who are placed in them. The highest 
 dignity in the empire does not give any rank or pre- 
 eminence to the family of him who enjoys it. As every 
 man, before he is raised to any station of authority, 
 must go through the preparatory discipline of a long 
 and servile obedience', the moment he is deprived of 
 power, he and his posterity return to the same condi- 
 tion with other subjects, and sink back into obscurity. 
 It is the distinguishing and odious characteristic of 
 eastern despotism, that it annihilates all other ranks of 
 men, in order to exalt the monarch ; that it leaves no- 
 thing to the former, while it gives every thing to the 
 latter ; that it endeavours to fix in the minds of those 
 who are subject to it, the idea of no relation between 
 men, but that of a master and of a slave ; the former 
 destined to command and to punish, the latter formed 
 to tremble and to obey u . 
 
 But as there are circumstances which frequently ob- Power of 
 struct or defeat the salutary effects of the best-regu- limited by 
 lated governments, there are others which contribute 
 to mitigate the evils of the most defective forms of 
 policy. There can, indeed, be no constitutional re- 
 straints upon the will of a pririce in a despotic govern- 
 ment; but there may be such as are accidental. Ab- 
 solute as the Turkish sultans are, they feel themselves 
 circumscribed both by religion, the principle on which 
 their authority is founded", and by the army, the in- 
 strument which they must employ in order to maintain 
 it. Wherever religion interposes, the will of the sove- 
 reign must submit to its decrees. When the koran 
 hath prescribed any religious rite, hath enjoined any 
 moral duty, or hath confirmed, by its sanction, any 
 political maxim, the command of the sultan cannot 
 overturn that which an higher authority hath esta- 
 blished. The chief restriction, however, on the will of 
 
 1 State of the Turkish Empire l>y Rycaut, p. 25. 
 
 " Note xliii. * Rycaut, p. 8.
 
 170 
 
 A VIEW OF THE 
 
 SECT. in. 
 
 and by the 
 military. 
 
 Origin of 
 the jani- 
 zaries. 
 A. D. 1362 
 
 Their vast 
 influence 
 in the 
 Turkish 
 govern- 
 ment. 
 
 the sultans is imposed by the military power. An 
 armed force must surround the throne of every despot, 
 to maintain his authority, and to execute his com- 
 mands. As the Turks extended their empire over 
 nations which they did not exterminate, but reduce to 
 subjection, they found it necessary to render their mi- 
 litary establishment numerous and formidable. Amu- 
 rath, their third sultan, in order to form a body of 
 troops devoted to his will, that might serve as the im- 
 mediate guards of his person and dignity, commanded 
 his officers to seize annually, as the imperial property, 
 the fifth part of the youth taken in war. These, after 
 being instructed in the mahometan religion, inured to 
 obedience by severe discipline, and trained to warlike 
 exercises, were formed into a body distinguished by the 
 name of ' janizaries,' or new soldiers. Every senti- 
 ment which enthusiasm can inspire, every mark of 
 distinction that the favour of the prince could confer, 
 were employed in order to animate this body with 
 martial ardour, and with a consciousness of its own 
 preeminence y . The janizaries soon became the chief 
 strength and pride of the Ottoman armies ; and, by 
 their number as well as reputation, were distinguished 
 above all the troops, whose duty it was to attend on 
 the person of the sultans z . 
 
 Thus, as the supreme power in every society is pos- 
 sessed by those who have arms in their hands, this 
 formidable body of soldiers, destined to be the instru- 
 ments of enlarging the sultan's authority, acquired, at 
 the same time, the means of controlling it. The jani- 
 zaries in Constantinople, like the praetorian bands in 
 ancient Rome, quickly perceived all the advantages 
 which they derived from being stationed in the capital ; 
 from their union under one standard ; and from being 
 masters of the person of the prince. The sultans be- 
 came no less sensible of their influence and importance. 
 
 Prince Cantemir's History of the Othman Empire, p. 87. 
 1 Note xlir.
 
 SECT. in. STATE OF EUROPE. 171 
 
 The ' capiculy,' or soldiery of the porte, was the only 
 power in the empire that a sultan or his visier had rea- 
 son to dread. To preserve the fidelity and attachment 
 of the janizaries, was the great art of government, and 
 the principal object of attention in the policy of the 
 Ottoman court. Under a monarch, whose abilities and 
 vigour of mind fit him for command, they are obse- 
 quious instruments ; execute whatever he enjoins, and 
 render his power irresistible. Under feeble princes, 
 or such as are unfortunate, they become turbulent and 
 mutinous; assume the tone of masters; degrade and 
 exalt sultans at pleasure; and teach those to tremble, 
 on whose nod, at other times, life and death depend. 
 
 From Mahomet the second, who took Constantino- Progress 
 pie, to Solyman the magnificent, who began his reign a ^^ ^ 
 few months after Charles the fifth was placed on the wards do- 
 imperial throne of Germany, a succession of illustrious m 
 princes ruled over the Turkish empire. By their great 
 abilities, they kept their subjects of every order, mili- 
 tary as well as civil, submissive to government, and had 
 the absolute command of whatever force their vast 
 empire was able to exert. Solyman, in particular, 
 who is known to the Christians chiefly as a conqueror, 
 but is celebrated in the Turkish annals as the great 
 lawgiver who established order and police in their em- 
 pire, governed, during his long reign, with no less 
 authority than wisdom. He divided his dominions into 
 several districts ; he appointed the number of soldiers 
 which each should furnish ; he appropriated a certain 
 proportion of the land in every province, for their main- 
 tenance; he regulated, with a minute accuracy, every 
 thing relative to their discipline, their arms, and the 
 nature of their service. He put the finances of the 
 empire into an orderly train of administration; and, 
 though the taxes in the Turkish dominions, as well as 
 in the other despotic monarchies of the east, are far 
 from being considerable, he supplied that defect by an 
 attentive and severe economy. 
 
 Nor was it only under such sultans as Solyman,
 
 172 A VIEW OF THE, ETC. SECT. in. 
 
 Advan- whose talents were no less adapted to preserve internal 
 tages which OT er t j ian to CO nduct the operations of war, that the 
 they pot- 1.15 
 
 sessed over Turkish empire engaged with advantage in its contests 
 
 tiaVpws wi th tn e Christian states. The long succession of able 
 in the six- princes, which I have mentioned, had given such 
 tury! vigour and firmness to the Ottoman government, that 
 it seems to have attained, during the sixteenth century, 
 the highest degree of perfection of which its constitu- 
 tion was capable. Whereas the great monarchies in 
 Christendom were still far from that state which could 
 enable them to act with a full exertion of their force. 
 Besides this, the Turkish troops in that age possessed 
 every advantage which arises from superiority in mili- 
 tary discipline. At the time when Solyman began his 
 reign, the janizaries had been embodied near a cen- 
 tury and a half; and, during that long period, the 
 severity of their military discipline had in no degree 
 relaxed. The other soldiers, drawn from the pro- 
 vinces of the empire, had been kept almost continually 
 under arms, in the various wars which the sultans had 
 carried on, with hardly any interval of peace. Against 
 troops thus trained and accustomed to service, the 
 forces of the Christian powers took the field with great 
 disadvantage. The most intelligent as well as impar- 
 tial authors of the sixteenth century acknowledge and 
 lament the superior attainments of the Turks in the 
 military art a . The success which almost uniformly 
 attended their arms, in all their wars, demonstrates the 
 justness of this observation. The Christian armies did 
 not acquire that superiority over the Turks, which 
 they now possess, until the long establishment of stand- 
 ing forces had improved military discipline among the 
 former ; and until various causes and events, which it 
 is not my province to explain, had corrupted or abo- 
 lished their ancient warlike institutions among the 
 latter. 
 
 ' Note xlv.
 
 THE 
 HISTORY OF THE REIGN 
 
 OF THE 
 EMPEROR CHARLES THE FIFTH.
 
 THE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROR 
 
 CHARLES THE FIFTH. 
 
 THE FIRST BOOK. 
 
 CHARLES the fifth was born at Ghent on the Birth of 
 twenty-fourth day of February, in the year one thou- j^j) rles the 
 sand five hundred. His father, Philip the handsome, 
 archduke of Austria, was the son of the emperor Maxi- 
 milian, and of Mary, the only child of Charles the 
 bold, the last prince of the house of Burgundy. His 
 mother, Joanna, was the second daughter of Ferdinand, 
 king of Aragon, and of Isabella, queen of Castile. 
 
 A long train of fortunate events had opened the way His domi- 
 for this young prince to the inheritance of more exten- nions > an d 
 
 * . . T-, . the events 
 
 sive dominions than any European monarch, since by which 
 Charlemagne, had possessed. Each of his ancestors 
 had acquired kingdoms or provinces, towards which 
 their prospect of succession was extremely remote. 
 The rich possessions of Mary of Burgundy had been 
 dc>tined for another family, she having been contracted 
 by her father to the only son of Louis the eleventh of 
 France; but that capricious monarch, indulging his 
 hatred to her family, chose rather to strip her of part 
 of her territories by force, than to secure the whole by 
 marriage; and by this misconduct, fatal to his poste- 
 rity, he threw all the Netherlands and Franche Comt6 
 into the hands of a rival. Isabella, the daughter of
 
 176 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK. i. 
 
 John the second of Castile, far from having any pros- 
 pect of that noble inheritance which she transmitted to 
 her grandson, passed the -early part of her life in ob- 
 scurity and indigence. But the Castilians, exaspe- 
 rated against her brother Henry the fourth, an ill- 
 advised and vicious prince, publicly charged him with 
 impotence, and his queen with adultery. Upon his 
 demise, rejecting Joanna, whom Henry had uniformly, 
 and even on his death-bed, owned to be his lawful 
 daughter, and whom an assembly of the states had ac- 
 knowledged to be the heir of his kingdom, they obliged 
 her to retire into Portugal, and placed Isabella on the 
 throne of Castile. Ferdinand owed the crown of Ara- 
 gon to the unexpected death of his elder brother, and 
 acquired the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily by violat- 
 ing the faith of treaties, and disregarding the ties of 
 blood. To all these kingdoms, Christopher Columbus, 
 by an effort of genius and of intrepidity, the boldest 
 and most successful that is 'recorded in the annals of 
 mankind, added a new world, the wealth of which 
 became one considerable source of the power and 
 grandeur of the Spanish monarchs. 
 
 Philip and Don John, the only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 fatKMu!d S and their eldest daughter, the queen of Portugal, be- 
 mother, vi- ing cut off, without issue, in the flower of youth, all 
 their hopes centred in Joanna and her posterity. But 
 as her husband, the archduke, was a stranger to the 
 Spaniards, it was thought expedient to invite him into 
 Spain, that, by residing among them, he might accus- 
 tom himself to their laws and manners ; and it was ex- 
 pected that the cortes, or assembly of states, whose 
 authority was then so great in Spain, that no title to 
 the crown was reckoned valid unless it received their 
 sanction, would acknowledge his right of succession, 
 together with that of the infanta, his wife. Philip and 
 Joanna, passing through France in their way to Spain, 
 were entertained in that kingdom with the utmost mag- 
 1602. nificence. The archduke did homage to Louis the
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 177 
 
 twelfth for the earldom of Flanders, and took his seat 
 as a peer of the realm in the parliament of Paris. 
 They were received in Spain with every mark of ho- 
 nour that the parental affection of Ferdinand and Isa- 
 hella, or the respect of their subjects, could devise ; and 
 their title to the crown was soon after acknowledged 
 by the cortes of both kingdoms. 
 
 But, amidst these outward appearances of satisfac- Ferdinand 
 tion and joy, some secret uneasiness preyed upon the J phij US ' s 
 mind of each of these princes. The stately and re- power. 
 served ceremonial of the Spanish court was so burthen- 
 some to Philip, a prince young, gay, affable, fond of 
 society and of pleasure, that he soon began to express 
 a desire of returning to his native country, the manners 
 of which were more suited to his temper. Ferdinand, 
 observ ing the declining health of his queen, with whose 
 life he knew that his right to the government of Castile 
 must cease, easily foresaw, that a prince of Philip's 
 disposition, and who already discovered an extreme im- 
 patience to reign, would never consent to his retaining 
 any degree of authority in that kingdom; and the 
 prospect of this diminution of his power awakened the 
 jealousy of that ambitious monarch. 
 
 Isabella beheld, with the sentiments natural to a Isabella's 
 mother, the indifference and neglect with which the ^j^ 1 * t 
 archduke treated her daughter, who was destitute of to him 
 those beauties of person, as well as those accomplish- daughter. 
 ments of mind, which fix the affections of an husband. 
 Her understanding, always weak, was often disordered. 
 She doted on Philip with such an excess of childish 
 and indiscreet fondness, as excited disgust rather than 
 affection. Her jealousy, for which her husband's be- 
 haviour gave her too much cause, was proportioned to 
 her love, and often broke out in the most extravagant 
 actions. Isabella, though sensible of her defects, could 
 not help pitying her Condition, which was soon ren- 
 dered altogether deplorable by the archduke's abrupt 
 resolution of setting out in the middle of winter for 
 
 VOL. III. N
 
 178 
 
 THE KEIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i. 
 
 Flanders, and of leaving her in Spain. Isabella en- 
 tivnk'd him not to abandon his wife to grief and melan- 
 choly, which might prove fatal to her, as she was near 
 the time of her delivery. Joanna conjured him to put 
 off his journey for three days only, that she might have 
 tin- |)U-,isure of celebrating the festival ofchristmas in 
 his company. Ferdinand, after representing the im- 
 prudence of his leaving Spain, before he had time to 
 become acquainted with the genius, or to gain the 
 affections of the people, who were one day to be his 
 subjects, besought him, at least, not to pass through 
 France, with which kingdom he was then at open war. 
 Philip, without regarding either the dictates of huma- 
 nity, or the maxims of prudence, persisted in his pur- 
 pose, and on the twenty-second of December set out 
 for the Low Countries, by the way of France a . 
 
 From the moment of his departure, Joanna sunk 
 into a deep and sullen melancholy b , and while she was 
 in that situation, bore Ferdinand, her second son, for 
 afterwards w h m the power of his brother Charles afterwards pro- 
 emperor, cured the kingdoms of Hungary and Bohemia, and to 
 whom he at last transmitted the imperial sceptre. Jo- 
 anna was the only person in Spain who discovered no 
 joy at the birth of this prince. Insensible to that, as 
 well as to every other pleasure, she was wholly occu- 
 pied with the thoughts of returning to her husband ; 
 nor did she, in any degree, recover tranquillity of 
 mind, until she arrived at Brussels next year c . 
 
 Philip, in passing through France, had an interview 
 with Louis the twelfth, and signed a treaty with him, 
 by which he hoped that all the differences between 
 France and Spain would have been finally terminated. 
 But Ferdinand, whose affairs at that time were ex- 
 tremely prosperous in Italy, where the superior genius 
 
 Disorder of 
 Joanna's 
 mind. 
 Birth of 
 
 1504. 
 
 * Petri Martyris Anglerii Epistolae, 250. 253. 
 
 H Id. Epist. 255. 
 
 < Mariana, lib. 27. c. 11. 14. Fishier, Vie de Xim6n. i. 191.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 179 
 
 of Gonsalvo de Cordova, the great captain, triumphed 
 on every occasion over the arms of France, did not pay 
 the least regard to what his son-in-law had concluded, 
 and carried on hostilities with greater ardour than ever. 
 
 From this time Philip seems not to have taken any Death of 
 part in the affairs of Spain, waiting in quiet till the IsabeUa - 
 death either of Ferdinand or of Isabella should open 
 the way to one of their thrones. The latter of these 
 events was not far distant. The untimely death of her 
 son and eldest daughter had made a deep impression 
 on the mind of Isabella ; and as she could derive but 
 little consolation for the losses which she had sustained 
 either from her daughter Joanna, whose infirmities 
 daily increased, or from her son-in-law, who no longer 
 preserved even the appearance of a decent respect to- 
 wards that unhappy princess, her spirits and health 
 began gradually to decline, and, after languishing some 
 months, she died at Medina del Campo on the twenty- 
 sixth of November, one thousand five hundred and 
 four. She was no less eminent for virtue than for 
 wisdom ; and whether we consider her behaviour as a 
 queen, as a wife, or as a mother, she is justly entitled 
 to the high encomiums bestowed upon her by the Spa- 
 nish historians' 1 . 
 
 A few weeks before her death, she made her last Her will, 
 will ; and , being convinced of Joanna's incapacity to Ferdinand 
 assume the reins of government into her own hands, 
 and having no inclination to commit them to Philip, 
 with whose conduct she was extremely dissatisfied, she 
 appointed Ferdinand regent or administrator of the 
 affairs of Castile, until her grandson Charles should 
 attain the age of twenty. She bequeathed to Ferdi- 
 nand, likewise, one half of the revenues which should 
 arise from the Indies, together with the grand master- 
 ships of the three military orders ; dignities which ren- 
 dered the person who possessed them almost inde- 
 
 * P. Mart. Ep. 279.
 
 180 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i. 
 
 Ferdinand 
 acknow- 
 ledged as 
 regent by 
 the cortes. 
 
 1505. 
 The Cas- 
 tilians dis- 
 satisfied. 
 
 pendent, and which Isabella had, for that reason, 
 annexed to the crown e . But, before she signed a 
 deed so favourable to Ferdinand, she obliged him 
 to swear that he would not, by a second marriage, or 
 by any other means, endeavour to deprive Joanna or 
 her posterity of their right of succession to any of his 
 kingdoms f . 
 
 Immediately upon the queen's death, Ferdinand re- 
 signed the title of king of Castile, and issued orders to 
 proclaim Joanna and Philip the sovereigns of that king- 
 dom. But, at the same time, he assumed the character 
 of regent, in consequence of Isabella's testament ; and 
 not long after, he prevailed on the cortes of Castile to 
 acknowledge his right to that office. This, however, he 
 did not procure without difficulty, nor without discover- 
 ing such symptoms of alienation and disgust among the 
 Castilians as filled him with great uneasiness. The union 
 of Castile and Aragon, for almost thirty years, had not 
 so entirely extirpated the ancient and hereditary enmity 
 which subsisted between the natives of these king- 
 
 O 
 
 doms, that the Castilian pride could submit, without 
 murmuring, to the government of a king of Aragon. 
 Ferdinand's own character, with which the Castilians 
 were well acquainted, was far from rendering his au- 
 thority desirable. Suspicious, discerning, severe, and 
 parsimonious, he was accustomed to observe the most 
 minute actions of his subjects with a jealous attention, 
 and to reward their highest services with little liberal- 
 ity; and they were now deprived of Isabella, whose 
 gentle qualities, and partiality to her Castilian sub- 
 jects, often tempered his austerity or rendered it to- 
 lerable. The maxims of his government were espe- 
 cially odious to the grandees; for that artful prince, 
 sensible of the dangerous privileges conferred upon 
 them by the feudal institutions, had endeavoured to 
 
 P. Martyr. Ep. 277. Mar. Hist. lib. 28. c. 11. 
 d'Espagne, torn. viii. 263. 
 ' Mar. Hist. lib. 28. c. 14. 
 
 Ferrer. Hist. Gener.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 181 
 
 curb their exorbitant power 8 , by extending the royal 
 jurisdiction, by protecting their injured vassals, by 
 increasing the immunities of cities, and by other mea- 
 sures equally prudent. From all these causes, a for- 
 midable party among the Castilians united against Fer- 
 dinand ; and though the persons who composed it had 
 not hitherto taken any public step in opposition to him, 
 he plainly saw, that, upon the least encouragement 
 from their new king, they would proceed to the most 
 violent extremities. 
 
 There was no less agitation in the Netherlands upon Philip en- 
 receiving the accounts of Isabella's death, and of Fer- f e ^ab 
 dinand's having assumed the government of Castile, the go- 
 Philip was not of a temper tamely to suffer himself to 
 be supplanted by the ambition of his father-in-law. If 
 Joanna's infirmities, and the noi^ge of Charles, ren- 
 dered them incapable of government, he, as a husband, 
 was the proper guardian of his wife, and, as a father, 
 the natural tutor of his son. Nor was it sufficient to 
 oppose to these just rights, and to the inclination of 
 the people of Castile, the authority of a testament, the 
 genuineness of which was, perhaps, doubtful, and its 
 contents to him appeared certainly to be iniquitous. 
 A keener edge was added to Philip's resentment, and 
 new vigour infused into his councils by the arrival of 
 don John Manuel. He was Ferdinand's ambassador 
 at the imperial court, but, upon the first notice of Isa- 
 bella's death, repaired to Brussels, flattering himself 
 that, under a young and liberal prince, he might attain 
 to power and honours, which he could never have ex- 
 pected in the service of an old and frugal master. He 
 had early paid court to Philip, during his residence in 
 Spain, with such assiduity as entirely gained his confi- 
 dence; and, having been trained to business under 
 Ferdinand, could oppose his schemes with equal abili- 
 
 t .Marian. lib. 28. r. 12.
 
 182 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 the re- 
 
 ties, and with arts not inferior to those for which that 
 monarch was distinguished h . 
 
 He requires By the advice of Manuel, ambassadors were de- 
 s P atcne d to require Ferdinand to retire into Aragon, 
 and to resign the government of Castile to those per- 
 sons whom Philip should intrust with it, until his own 
 arrival in that kingdom. Such of the Castilian nobles 
 as had discovered any dissatisfaction with Ferdinand's 
 administration, were encouraged by every method to 
 oppose it. At the same time a treaty was concluded 
 with Louis the twelfth, by which Philip flattered him- 
 self, that he had secured the friendship and assistance 
 of that monarch. 
 
 Meanwhile, Ferdinand employed all the arts of ad- 
 dress and policy, in order to retain the power of which 
 he had got possession. By means of Conchillos, an 
 Aragonian gentleman, he entered into a private nego- 
 tiation with Joanna, and prevailed on that weak prin- 
 cess to confirm, by her authority, his right to the 
 regency. But this intrigue did not escape the pene- 
 trating eye of don John Manuel; Joanna's letter of 
 consent was intercepted ; Conchillos was thrown into a 
 dungeon ; she herself confined to an apartment in the 
 palace, and all her Spanish domestics secluded from 
 her presence '. 
 
 The mortification which the discovery of this in- 
 trigue occasioned to Ferdinand, was much increased 
 by his observing the progress which Philip's emissaries 
 made in Castile. Some of the nobles retired to their 
 castles ; others to the towns in which they had influ- 
 ence; they formed themselves into confederacies, and 
 began to assemble their vassals. Ferdinand's court 
 was almost totally deserted ; not a person of distinction 
 but Ximenes, archbishop of Toledo, the duke of Alva, 
 
 Ferdinand 
 
 Castilian 
 
 h Zurita, Annales de Aragon, torn. vi. p. 12. 
 ' P. Mart. Ep. 287. Zurita, Annales, vi. p. 14.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 18,3 
 
 and the marquis of Denia, remaining there ; while the 
 houses of Philip's ambassadors were daily crowded with 
 noblemen of the highest rank. 
 
 Exasperated at this universal defection, and mor- Ferdinand 
 tified, perhaps, with seeing all his schemes* defeated by m^y 65 ^ 
 a younger politician, Ferdinand resolved, in defiance orcl er to 
 of the law of nature, and of decency, to deprive his daughter 
 
 daughter and her posterity of the crown of Castile. f f om the 
 
 J ' throne, 
 
 rather than renounce the regency of that kingdom. 
 
 His plan for accomplishing this was no less bold, than 
 the intention itself was wicked. He demanded in mar- 
 riage Joanna, the supposed daughter of Henry the 
 fourth, on the belief of whose illegitimacy Isabella's 
 right to the crown of Castile was founded ; and by re- 
 viving the claim of this princess, in opposition to which 
 he himself had formerly led armies and fought battles, 
 he hoped once more to get possession of the throne of 
 that kingdom. But Emanuel, king of Portugal, in 
 whose dominions Joanna resided, at that time having 
 married one of Ferdinand's daughters by Isabella, re- 
 fused his consent to that unnatural match ; and the 
 unhappy princess herself, having lost all relish for the 
 objects of ambition, by being long immured in a con- 
 vent, discovered no less aversion to it k . 
 
 The resources, however, of Ferdinand's ambition Marries a 
 were not exhausted. Upon meeting with a repulse in ^nch ' 
 Portugal, he turned towards France, and sought in king. 
 marriage Germaine de Foix, a daughter of the vis- 
 count of Narbonne and of Mary, the sister of Louis the 
 twelfth. The war which that monarch had carried on 
 against Ferdinand in Naples, had been so unfortunate, 
 that he listened with joy to a proposal which furnished 
 him with an honourable pretence for concluding peace : 
 and though no prince was ever more remarkable than 
 Ferdinand for making all his passions bend to the 
 
 k Sandov. Hist, of Civil Wars in Castile. Load. 1655, p. 6. Zurita, An- 
 nales de Aragon, torn. vi. p. 213.
 
 184 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 maxims of interest, or become subservient to the pur- 
 poses of ambition, yet so vehement was his resentment 
 against his son-in-law, that the desire of gratifying it 
 rendered him regardless of every other consideration. 
 In order to be revenged of Philip, by detaching Louis 
 from his interest, and in order to gain a chance of ex- 
 cluding him from his hereditary throne of Aragon, and 
 the dominions annexed to it, he was ready once more 
 to divide Spain into separate kingdoms, though the 
 union of these was the great glory of his reign, and 
 had been the chief object of his ambition; he con- 
 sented to restore the Neapolitan nobles of the French 
 faction to their possessions and honours; and sub- 
 mitted to the ridicule of marrying, in an advanced age, 
 a princess of eighteen '. 
 
 The conclusion of this match, which deprived Philip 
 of his only ally, and threatened him with the loss of so 
 many kingdoms, gave him a dreadful alarm, and con- 
 vinced don John Manuel that there was now a neces- 
 sity of taking other measures with regard to the affairs 
 of Spain m . He accordingly instructed the Flemish am- 
 bassadors in the court of Spain, to testify the strong 
 desire which their master had of terminating all differ- 
 ences between him and Ferdinand in an amicable man- 
 ner, and his willingness to consent to any conditions 
 that would reestablish the friendship which ought to 
 A treaty subsist between a father and a son-in-law. Ferdinand, 
 FVrdband tnou g n ne na <l made and broken more treaties than 
 and Philip, any prince of any age, was apt to confide so far in the 
 sincerity of other men, or to depend so much upon his 
 own address and their weakness, as to be always ex- 
 tremely fond of a negotiation. He listened with eager- 
 ness to the declarations, and soon concluded a treaty 
 Nov. 24. at Salamanca; in which it was stipulated, that the go- 
 vernment of Castile should be carried on in the joint 
 
 P. Mart. Ep. 290. 292. Mariana, lib. 28. c. 16, 17. 
 P. .Mart. Ep. 293.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 185 
 
 names of Joanna, of Ferdinand, and of Philip ; and 
 that the revenues of the crown, as well as the right of 
 conferring offices, should be shared between Ferdinand 
 and Philip, by an equal division ". 
 
 Nothing, however, was farther from Philip's thoughts 1506. 
 than to observe this treaty. His sole intention in pro- j " n l n a a " e t 
 posing it was to amuse Ferdinand, and to prevent him sail for 
 from taking any measures for obstructing his voyage 
 into Spain. It had that effect. Ferdinand, sagacious 
 as he was, did not for some time suspect his design ; 
 and though, when he perceived it, he prevailed on the 
 king of France not only to remonstrate against the 
 archduke's journey, but to threaten hostilities if he 
 should undertake it; though he solicited the duke of 
 Gueldres to attack his son-in-law's dominions in the 
 Low Countries, Philip and his consort nevertheless set 
 sail with a numerous fleet and a good body of land 
 forces. They were obliged, by a violent tempest, to 
 take shelter in England, where Henry the seventh, in 
 compliance with Ferdinand's solicitations, retained them 
 upwards of three months : at last they were permitted April 28. 
 to depart, and, after a more prosperous voyage, they 
 arrived in safety at Corunna in Gallicia, nor durst Fer- 
 dinand attempt, as he once intended, to oppose their 
 landing by force of arms. 
 
 The Castilian nobles, who had been obliged hitherto The nobi- 
 to conceal or to dissemble their sentiments, now de- t |] ', ^ ec \ 
 clared openly in favour of Philip. From every corner for Philip. 
 of the kingdom, persons of the highest rank, with 
 numerous retinues of their vassals, repaired to their 
 new sovereign. The treaty of Salamanca was univer- 
 sally condemned, and all agreed to exclude from the 
 government of Castile a prince, who, by consenting to 
 disjoin Aragon and Naples from that crown, discovered 
 so little concern for its true interests. Ferdinand, 
 
 - Zurita, Annales de Aragon, vi. 19. P. Mart. Ep. 293, 294. 
 
 Ferrer. Hist. viii. 285.
 
 186 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 meanwhile, abandoned by almost all the Castilians, dis- 
 concerted by their revolt, and uncertain whether he 
 should peaceably relinquish his power, or take arms in 
 order to maintain it, earnestly solicited an interview 
 with his son-in-law, who, by the advice of Manuel, 
 studiously avoided it. Convinced, at last, by seeing the 
 number and zeal of Philip's adherents daily increase, 
 that it was vain to think of resisting such a torrent, 
 June 27. Ferdinand consented, by treaty, to resign the regency 
 Ferdinand Q f c ast ji e into the hands of Philip, to retire into his 
 
 PMMH 
 
 the re- hereditary dominions of Aragon, and to rest satisfied 
 Castile and w ' tn ^ ie masterships of the military orders, and that 
 retires to share of the revenue of the Indies, which Isabella had 
 bequeathed to him. Though an interview between the 
 princes was no longer necessary, it was agreed to on 
 both sides from motives of decency. Philip repaired 
 to the place appointed, with a splendid retinue of CaS- 
 tilian nobles, and a considerable body of armed men. 
 Ferdinand appeared without any pomp, attended by a 
 few followers mounted on mules, and unarmed. On 
 that occasion don John Manuel had the pleasure of 
 displaying before the monarch, whom he had deserted, 
 the extensive influence which he had acquired over 
 his new master : while Ferdinand suffered, in presence 
 of his former subjects, the two most cruel mortifica- 
 tions which an artful and ambitious prince can feel ; 
 being at once overreached in conduct, and stripped of 
 power p . 
 
 July. Not long after, he retired into Aragon ; and, hoping 
 
 that some favourable accident would soon open the 
 way to his return into Castile, he took care to protest, 
 though with great secrecy, that the treaty concluded 
 with his son-in-law, being extorted by force, ought to 
 be deemed void of all obligation q . 
 
 Philip took possession of his new authority with a 
 
 P Zurita, Annales de Arag. vi. 64. Mar. lib. 28. c. 19, 20. P. Mart. Ep. 
 304, 305, etc. 
 
 i Zurita, Annales de Arag. vi. p. 68. Ferrer. Hist. viii. 290.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 187 
 
 youthful joy. The unhappy Joanna, from whom he Philip and 
 derived it, remained, during all these contests, under the tnowledeed 
 dominion of a deep melancholy ; she was seldom al- as king and 
 lowed to appear in public ; her father, though he had ^he^ortes. 
 often desired it, was refused access to her ; and Philip's 
 chief object was to prevail on the cortes to declare 
 her incapable of government, that an undivided power 
 might be lodged in his hands, until his son should at- 
 tain to full age. But such was the partial attachment 
 of the Castilians to their native princess, that though 
 Manuel had the address to gain some members of the 
 cortes assembled at Valladolid, and others were willing 
 to gratify their new sovereign in his first request, the 
 great body of the representatives refused their consent 
 to a declaration which they thought so injurious to the 
 blood of their monarchs r . They were unanimous, how- 
 ever, in acknowledging Joanna and Philip, queen and 
 king of Castile, and their son Charles, prince of Asturias. 
 
 This was almost the only memorable event during Death of 
 Philip's administration. A fever put an end to his life ^^c 
 in the twenty-eighth year of his age, when he had not 1506. 
 enjoyed the regal dignity, which he had been so eager 
 to obtain, full three months s . 
 
 The whole royal authority in Castile ought, of course, The dis 
 to have devolved upon Joanna. But the shock occa- ^otnna's 
 sioned by a disaster so unexpected as the death of her mind in- 
 husband, completed the disorder of her understanding, cr 
 and her incapacity for government. During all the 
 time of Philip's sickness, no entreaty could prevail on 
 her, though in the sixth month of her pregnancy, to 
 leave him for a moment. When he expired, however, 
 she did not shed one tear, or utter a single groan. Her 
 grief was silent and settled ; she continued to watch the 
 dead body with the same tenderness and attention as if 
 it had been alive ' ; and though at last she permitted it 
 
 r Zurita, Annales de Arag. vi. p. 75. * Marian, lib. 28. c. 23. 
 
 ' P. Mart. Ep. 316.
 
 188 
 
 THE 11E1GN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i. 
 
 She is in- 
 capable of 
 govern- 
 ment. 
 
 Maximilian 
 the em- 
 peror, and 
 Ferdinand, 
 competitors 
 for the re- 
 gency. 
 
 to be buried, she soon removed it from the tomb to her 
 uun apartment. There it was laid upon a bed of state, 
 in a splendid dress : and having heard from some monk 
 a legendary tale of a king who revived after he had 
 been dead fourteen years, she kept her eyes almost 
 constantly fixed on the body, waiting for the happy 
 moment of its return to life. Nor was this capricious 
 affection for her dead husband less tinctured with jea- 
 lousy, than that which she had borne to him when alive. 
 She did not permit any of her female attendants to 
 approach the bed on which his corpse was laid ; she 
 would not suffer any woman who did not belong to her 
 family to enter the apartment; and rather than grant 
 that privilege to a midwife, though a very aged one 
 had been chosen on purpose, she bore the princess 
 Catharine without any other assistance than that of her 
 own domestics u . 
 
 A woman in such a state of mind was little capable 
 of governing a great kingdom; and Joanna, who made 
 it her sole employment to bewail the loss, and to pray 
 for the soul, of her husband, would have thought her 
 attention to public affairs an impious neglect of those 
 duties which she owed to him. But though she de- 
 clined assuming the administration herself, yet, by a 
 strange caprice of jealousy, she refused to commit it 
 to any other person ; and no entreaty of her subjects 
 could persuade her to name a regent, or even to sign 
 such papers as were necessary for the execution of 
 justice, and the security of the kingdom. 
 
 The death of Philip threw the Castilians into the 
 greatest perplexity. It was necessary to appoint a 
 regent, both on account of Joanna's frenzy, and the 
 infancy of her son ; and as there was not among the 
 nobles any person so eminently distinguished, either by 
 superiority in rank or abilities, as to be called by the 
 public voice to that high office, all naturally turned 
 
 " Mar. Hist. lib. 29. c. 3. et 5. P. Mart. Kp. 318. 324. 328. 332.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 189 
 
 their eyes either towards Ferdinand, or towards the 
 emperor Maximilian. The former claimed that dignity, 
 as administrator for his daughter, and by virtue of the 
 testament of Isabella ; the latter thought himself the 
 legal guardian of his grandson, whom, on account of 
 his mother's infirmities, he already considered as king 
 of Castile. Such of the nobility as had lately been 
 most active in compelling Ferdinand to resign the 
 government of the kingdom, trembled at the thoughts 
 of his being restored so soon to his former dignity. 
 They dreaded the return of a monarch not apt to for- 
 give, and who, to those defects with which they were 
 already acquainted, added that resentment which the 
 remembrance of their behaviour, and reflection upon 
 his own disgrace, must naturally have excited. Though 
 none of these objections lay against Maximilian, be was 
 a stranger to the laws and manners of Castile ; he had 
 not either troops or money to support his pretensions ; 
 nor could his claim be admitted without a public de- 
 claration of Joanna's incapacity for government; an 
 indignity to which, notwithstanding the notoriety of 
 her distemper, the delicacy of the Castijians could not 
 bear the thoughts of subjecting her. 
 
 Don John Manuel, however, and a few of the nobles, 
 who considered themselves as most obnoxious to Fer- 
 dinand's displeasure, declared for Maximilian, and 
 offered to support his claim with all their interest. 
 Maximilian, always enterprising and decisive in council, 
 though feeble and dilatory in execution, eagerly em- 
 braced the offer. But a series of ineffectual negotia- 
 tions was the only consequence of this transaction. 
 The emperor, as usual, asserted his rights in a high 
 strain, promised a great deal, and performed nothing x . 
 
 A few days before the death of Philip, Ferdinand Ferdinand 
 had set out for Naples, that, by his own presence, he visltTo his* 
 might put an end, with greater decency, to the vice- kingdom of 
 
 Naples. 
 " Mariana, lib. 29. c. 7. Xurita, Annales de Arag. vi. 93.
 
 190 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 royalty of the great captain, whose important services, 
 and cautious conduct, did not screen him from the sus- 
 picions of his jealous master. Though an account of 
 his son-in-law's death reached him at Porto-fino, in the 
 territories of Genoa, he was so solicitous to discover 
 the secret intrigues which he supposed the great cap- 
 tain to have been carrying on, and to establish his own 
 authority on a firm foundation in the Neapolitan do- 
 minions, by removing him from the supreme command 
 there, that, rather than discontinue his voyage, he 
 chose to leave Castile in a state of anarchy, and even 
 to risk, by this delay, his obtaining possession of the 
 government of that kingdom y . 
 
 Acquires Nothing but the great abilities and prudent conduct 
 ofVaMiT^ ^ k* s adherents could have prevented the bad effects 
 chiefly of this absence. At the head of these was Ximenes, 
 cardinal archbishop of Toledo, who, though he had been raised 
 Ximenes. to that dignity by Isabella, contrary to the inclination 
 of Ferdinand, and though he could have no expecta- 
 tion of enjoying much power under the administration 
 of a master little disposed to distinguish him by ex- 
 traordinary marks of attention, was nevertheless so 
 disinterested, as to prefer the welfare of his country 
 before his own grandeur, and to declare, that Castile 
 could never be so happily governed as by a prince, 
 whom long experience had rendered thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with its true interest. The zeal of Ximenes 
 to bring over his countrymen to this opinion, induced 
 him to lay aside somewhat of his usual austerity and 
 1507. haughtiness. He condescended, on this occasion, to 
 court the disaffected nobles, and employed address, as 
 well as arguments, to persuade them. Ferdinand se- 
 conded his endeavours with great art ; and by conces- 
 sions to some of the grandees, by promises to others, 
 and by letters full of complaisance to all, he gained 
 Aug. 21. many of his most violent opponents 2 . Though many 
 
 T Zurita, Annales de Arag. vi. p. 85. * Ibid. vi. p. 87. 94. 109.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 191 
 
 cabals were formed, and some commotions were ex- Ferdinand 
 cited, yet when Ferdinand, after having settled the to 
 affairs of Naples, arrived in Castile, he entered upon 
 the administration without opposition. The prudence 
 with which he exercised his authority in that kingdom, 
 equalled the good fortune by which he had recovered 
 it. By a moderate but steady administration, free from His prudent 
 partiality and from resentment, he entirely reconciled ti 1D1 
 the Castilians to his person, and secured to them, du- 
 ring the remainder of his life, as much domestic tran- 
 quillity, as was consistent with the genius of the feudal 
 government, which still subsisted among them in full 
 vigour a . 
 
 Nor was the preservation of tranquillity in his here- 
 ditary kingdoms the only obligation which the arch- 
 duke Charles owed to the wise regency of his grand- 
 father ; it was his good fortune, during that period, to 
 have very important additions made to the dominions 
 over which he was to reign. On the coast of Barbary, Conquest of 
 Oran, and other conquests of no small value, were an- 
 nexed to the crown of Castile by cardinal Xmienes, 
 who, with a spirit very uncommon in a monk, led in 
 person a numerous army against the Moors of that 1509. 
 country ; and, with a generosity and magnificence still 
 more singular, defrayed the whole expense of the ex- 
 pedition out of his own revenues b . In Europe, Fer- 
 dinand, under pretences no less frivolous than unjust, 
 as well as by artifices the most shameful and treacher- 
 ous, expelled John d'Albert, the lawful sovereign, 
 from the throne of Navar,re; and, seizing on that king- Acquisition 
 dom, extended the limits of the Spanish monarchy from 
 the Pyrenees on the one hand, to the frontiers of Por- 
 tugal on the other c . 
 
 It was not, however, the desire of aggrandizing the Ferdinand 
 
 archduke, which influenced Ferdinand in this, or in ^ g^nd- 
 
 son Charles. 
 
 Mariana, lib. 29. c. 10. " Id. ibid. c. 18. 
 
 Id. lib. 30. c.l 1, 12. 18.24.
 
 192 THE KKKIN OF Ty# BOOK i. 
 
 1509. any other of his actions. He was more apt to consider 
 "~ that young prince as a rival, who might one day wrest 
 out of his hands the government of Castile, than a* a 
 grandson, for whose interest he was intrusted with the 
 administration. This jealousy soon begot aversion, and 
 even hatred, the symptoms of which he was at no pains 
 to conceal. Hence proceeded his immoderate joy when 
 his young queen was delivered of a son, whose life would 
 have deprived Charles of the crowns of Aragon, Naples, 
 Sicily, and Sardinia; and upon the untimely death of 
 that prince, he discovered, for the same reason, an ex- 
 cessive solicitude to have other children. This impa- 
 tience hastened, in all probability, the accession of 
 Charles to the crown of Spain. Ferdinand, in order 
 to procure a blessing, of which, from his advanced age, 
 and the intemperance of his youth, he could have little 
 prospect, had recourse to his physicians, and by their 
 prescription took one of those potions, which are sup- 
 posed to add vigour to the constitution, though they 
 1513. more frequently prove fatal to it. This was its effect 
 on a frame so feeble and exhausted as that of Ferdi- 
 nand ; for though he survived a violent disorder, which 
 it at first occasioned, it brought on such an habitual 
 languor and dejection of mind, as rendered him averse 
 from any serious attention to public affairs, and fond of 
 frivolous amusements, on which he had not hitherto 
 bestowed much time* 1 . Though he now despaired of 
 having any son of his own, his jealousy of the archduke 
 did not abate, nor could he help viewing him with that 
 aversion which princes often bear to their successors. 
 1515. In order to gratify this unnatural passion, he made a 
 ^"diminish 8 w ^' a PP omtm g prince Ferdinand, who, having been 
 his power, born and educated in Spain, was much beloved by the 
 favouTof m Spaniards, to be regent of all his kingdoms, until the 
 Ferdinand, arrival of the archduke his brother ; and by the same 
 
 H Zurita, Annales de Arag. vi. p. 347. P. Mart. Kp. 531 t Argensola, 
 Annales de Aragon, lib. i. p. 4.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 193 
 
 deed he settled upon him the grand mastership of the 1516. 
 three military orders. The former of these grants ~~ 
 might have put it in the power of the young prince to 
 have disputed the throne with his brother ; the latter 
 would, in any event, have rendered him almost inde- 
 pendent of him. 
 
 Ferdinand retained to the last that jealous love of 
 power, which was so remarkable through his whole life. 
 Unwilling, even at the approach of death, to admit a 
 thought of relinquishing any portion of his authority, 
 he removed continually from place to place, in order to 
 fly from his distemper, or to forget it. Though his 
 strength declined every day, none of his attendants 
 durst mention his condition; nor would he admit his 
 father confessor, who thought such silence criminal 
 and unchristian, into his presence. At last the danger 
 became so imminent, that it could be no longer con- 
 cealed. Ferdinand received the intimation with a de- 
 cent fortitude; and touched, perhaps, with compunc- 
 tion at the injustice which he had done his grandson, 
 or influenced by the honest remonstrances of Carvajal, 
 Zapara, and Vargas, his most ancient and faithful 
 counsellors, who represented to him, that by investing 
 prince Ferdinand with the regency, he would infallibly 
 entail a civil war on the two brothers, and by bestow- 
 ing on him the grand mastership of the military orders, 
 would strip the crown of its noblest ornament and chief 
 strength, he consented to alter his will with respect to Is persuad- 
 both these particulars. By a new deed he left Charles thatwiH er 
 the sole heir of all his dominions, and allotted to prince 
 Ferdinand, instead of that throne of which he thought 
 himself almost secure, an inconsiderable establishment 
 of fifty thousand ducats a year*. He died a few hours and dies, 
 after signing this will, on the twenty-third day of Ja- 
 nuary, one thousand five hundred and sixteen. 
 
 r -M.ir. Hist. lib. 30. c. ult. ZuriU, Annalei de Arag. vi. 401. P. Mart. 
 Kp. 565, 566. Argensola, Annales de Arag. lib. i. p. 1 1. 
 VOL. III. O
 
 I'M 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i. 
 
 1516. 
 
 Education 
 of Charles 
 the fifth. 
 
 Charles, to whom such a noble inheritance descended 
 by his death, was near the full age of sixteen. He 
 had hitherto resided in the Low Countries, his paternal 
 dominions .Margaret of Austria, his aunt, and Mar- 
 garet of York, the sister of Edward the fourth of Eng- 
 land, and widow of Charles the bold, two princesses of 
 great virtue and abilities, had the care of forming his 
 early youth. Upon the death of his father, the Flem- 
 ings committed the government of the Low Countries to 
 his grandfather, the emperor Maximilian, with the 
 name rather than the authority of regent' Maximi- 
 lian made choice of William de Croy, lord of Chievres, 
 to superintend the education of the young prince his 
 grandson g . That nobleman possessed, in an eminent 
 
 ' Pontius Heuterus, Rerum Austriacarum lib. xv. Lov. 1649. lib. vii. c. 
 2. p. 155. 
 
 The French historians, upon the authority of M. de Bellay, Mm. p. 11. 
 have unanimously asserted that Philip, by his last will, having appointed 
 the king of France to have the direction of his son's education, Louis the 
 twelfth, with a disinterestedness suitable to the confidence reposed in him, 
 named Chievres for that office. Even the president Renault has adopted 
 this opinion. Abr6g6 Chron. a. d. 1507. Varillas, in his usual manner, 
 pretends to have seen Philip's testament. Prat, de 1'Education des Princes, 
 p. 16. But the Spanish, German, and Flemish historians concur in contra- 
 dicting this assertion of the French authors. It appears from Heuterus, a 
 contemporary Flemish historian of great authority, that Louis the twelfth, by 
 consenting to the marriage of Germaine de Foix with Ferdinand, had lost 
 much of that confidence which Philip once placed in him; that his disgust 
 was increased by the French king's giving in marriage to the count of An- 
 gouleme his eldest daughter, whom he had formerly betrothed to Charles ; 
 Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. v. 151. That the French, a short time before Phi- 
 lip's death, had violated the peace which subsisted between them and the 
 Flemings, and Philip had complained of this injury, and was ready to resent 
 it. Heuter. ibid. All these circumstances render it improbable that Phi- 
 lip, who made his will a few days before he died, Heuter. p. 152. should 
 commit the education of his son to Louis the twelfth. In confirmation of 
 these plausible conjectures, positive testimony can be produced. It appears 
 from Heuterus that Philip, when he set out for Spain, had intrusted Chievres 
 both with the care of his son's education, and with the government of his 
 dominions in the Low Countries. Heuter. lib. vii. p. 153. That an at- 
 tempt was made, soon after Philip's death, to have the emperor Maxi- 
 milian appointed regent during the minority of his grandson ; but this being 
 opposed, Chievres seems to have continued to discharge both the offices
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 195 
 
 degree, the talents which fitted him for such an import- 1516. 
 ant office, and discharged the duties of it with great 
 fidelity. Under Chievres, Adrian of Utrecht acted as 
 preceptor. This preferment, which opened his way to 
 the highest dignities an ecclesiastic can attain, he owed 
 not to his birth, for that was extremely mean ; nor to 
 his interest, for he was a stranger to the arts of a 
 court ; but to the opinion which his countrymen enter- 
 tained of his learning. He was, indeed, no inconsi- 
 derable proficient in those frivolous sciences, which, 
 during several centuries, assumed the name of philoso- 
 phy, and had- published a commentary, which was 
 highly esteemed, upon ' the book of sentences,' a fa- 
 mous treatise of Petrus Lombardus, considered at that 
 time as the standard system of metaphysical theology. 
 But whatever admiration these procured him in an illite- 
 rate age, it was soon found that a man accustomed to the 
 retirement of a college, unacquainted with the world, 
 and without any tincture of taste or elegance, was by 
 no means qualified for rendering science agreeable to a 
 young prince. Charles, accordingly, discovered an 
 early aversion to learning, and an excessive fondness 
 for those violent and martial exercises, to excel in 
 which was the chief pride, and almost the only study, 
 of persons of rank in that age. Chi&vres encouraged 
 this taste, either from a desire of gaining his pupil by 
 indulgence, or from too slight an opinion of the advan- 
 tages of literary accomplishments' 1 . He instructed 
 
 which Philip had committed to him. Heutcr. ibid. 153. 155. That in the 
 beginning of the year 1508, the Flemings invited Maximilian to accept of 
 the regency ; to which he consented, and appointed his daughter Margaret, 
 together with a council of Flemings, to exercise the supreme authority ( 
 when he himself should, at any time, be absent. He likewise named 
 Chievres as governor, and Adrian of Utrecht as preceptor to his son. Heut. 
 ibid. 155. 157. What Heuterus relates with respect to this matter is con- 
 firmed by Moringus, in Vita Adrian! apud Analecta Casp. Burmanni de 
 Adriano, cap. 10. ; by Barlandus Chronic. Brabant, ibid. p. 25. and by 
 Hancus, Annal. Brab. vol. ii. 520, etc. 
 
 h Jovii Vita Adriani, p. 91. Struvii Corpus Hist. Germ. ii. 907. P. 
 Heuter. Her. Austr. lib. vii. c. 3. p. 157.
 
 !<)<; THE KEIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1516. him, however, with great care in the arts of govern- 
 ~~ ment ; he made him study the history not only of his 
 own kingdoms, hut of those with which they were con- 
 nected; he accustomed him, from the time of his 
 assuming the government of Flanders, in the year one 
 thousand five hundred and fifteen, to attend to busi- 
 ness ; he persuaded him to peruse all papers relating to 
 public affairs ; to be present at the deliberations of his 
 privy counsellors, and to propose to them himself those 
 matters concerning which he required their opinion 1 . 
 From such an education, Charles contracted habits of 
 gravity and recollection which scarcely -suited his time 
 The first o f life. The first openings of his genius did not indi- 
 .ofh'is'dia- cate that superiority which its maturer age displayed*, 
 racier. jj e jjj no t discover in his youth the impetuosity of 
 spirit which commonly ushers in an active and enter- 
 prising manhood. Nor did his early obsequiousness to 
 Chievres, and his other favourites, promise that capa- 
 cious and decisive judgment, which afterwards directed 
 the affairs of one half of Europe. But his subjects, 
 dazzled with the external accomplishments of a grace- 
 ful figure and manly address, and viewing his character 
 with that partiality which is always shown to princes 
 xl tiring their youth, entertained sanguine hopes of his 
 adding lustre to those crowns which descended to him 
 by the death of Ferdinand. 
 
 State of The kingdoms of Spain, as is evident from the view 
 
 quires 'a" which I have given of their political constitution, were 
 vigorous a t that time in a situation which required an admini- 
 
 admini- ... , , r^,, 
 
 stration. stration no less vigorous than prudent. 1 he feudal in- 
 stitutions, which had been introduced into all its differ- 
 ent provinces by the Goths, the Suevi, and the Vandals, 
 subsisted in great force. The nobles, who were power- 
 ful and warlike, had long possessed all the exorbitant 
 
 1 Memoires de Bellay, 8vo. Par. 1573, p. 1 1. P. Heuter. lib. viii. c. 1. 
 p. 184. 
 " P. Martyr. Ep. 569. 655.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 197 
 
 v 
 
 privileges which these institutions vested in their order. 15 16. 
 
 The cities in Spain were more numerous and more 
 
 considerable, than the genius of feudal government, 
 naturally unfavourable to commerce and to regular po- 
 lice, seemed to admit. The personal rights and politi- 
 cal influence, which the inhabitants of these cities had 
 acquired, were extensive. The royal prerogative, cir- 
 cumscribed by the privileges of the nobility, and by 
 the pretensions of the people, was confined within very 
 narrow limits. Under such a form of government, the 
 principles of discord were many; the bond of union 
 was extremely feeble ; and Spain felt not only all the 
 inconveniencies occasioned by the defects in the feudal 
 system, but was exposed to disorders arising from the 
 peculiarities in its own constitution. 
 
 During the long administration of Ferdinand, no in- 
 ternal commotion, it is true, had arisen in Spain. His 
 superior abilities had enabled him to restrain the tur- 
 bulence of the nobles, and to moderate the jealousy 
 of the commons. By the wisdom of his domestic go- 
 vernment, by the sagacity with which he conducted 
 his foreign operations, and by the high opinion that 
 his subjects entertained of both, he had preserved 
 among them a degree of tranquillity, greater than was 
 natural to a constitution, in which the seeds of discord 
 and disorder were so copiously mingled. But, by the 
 death of Ferdinand, these restraints were at once with- 
 drawn; and faction and discontent, from being long 
 repressed, were ready to break out with fiercer ani- 
 mosity. 
 
 In order to prevent these evils, Ferdinand had, in his Ferdinand 
 last will, taken a most prudent precaution, by appoint- p*i nt ^ 
 ing cardinal Ximenes, archbishop of Toledo, to be sole cardinal 
 regent of Castile, until the arrival of his grandson in 
 Spain. The singular character of this man, and the 
 extraordinary qualities which marked him out for that 
 office at such a juncture, merit a particular description. 
 He was descended of an honourable, not of a wealthy
 
 P6 THE KKIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1516. family ; and the circumstances of his parents, as well as 
 llis ' ris ,. ail . 1 his own inclinations, having determined him to enter 
 charait.r. into the church, he early obtained benefices of great 
 value, and which placed him in the way of the highest 
 preferment. All these, however, he renounced at 
 once; and, after undergoing a very severe novitiate, 
 assumed the habit of St. Francis in a monastery of ob- 
 servantine friars, one of the most rigid orders in the 
 Romish church. There he soon became eminent for 
 his uncommon austerity of manners, and for those ex- 
 cuses of superstitious devotion, which are the proper 
 characteristics of the monastic life. But, notwith- 
 standing these extravagancies, to which weak and en- 
 thusiastic minds alone are usually prone, his under- 
 standing, naturally penetrating and decisive, retained 
 its full vigour, and acquired him such great authority 
 in his own order, as raised him to be their provincial. 
 His reputation for sanctity soon procured him the 
 office of father confessor to queen Isabella, which he 
 accepted with the utmost reluctance. He preserved in 
 a court the same austerity of manners which had dis- 
 tinguished him in the cloister. He continued to make 
 all his journeys on foot ; he subsisted only upon alms ; 
 his acts of mortification were as severe as ever, and 
 his penances as rigorous. Isabella, pleased with her 
 choice, conferred on him, not long after, the arch- 
 bishopric of Toledo, which, next to the papacy, is the 
 richest dignity in the church of Rome. This honour 
 he declined, with a firmness, which nothing but the au- 
 thoritative injunction of the pope was able to over- 
 come. Nor did this height of promotion change his 
 manners. Though obliged to display in public that 
 magnificence which became his station, he himself re- 
 tained his monastic severity. Under his pontifical 
 robes he constantly wore the coarse frock of St. Fran- 
 cis, the rents in which he used to patch with his own 
 hands. He at no time used linen ; but was commonly 
 clad in hair cloth. He slept always in his habit, most
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 199 
 
 frequently on the ground, or on boards ; rarely in a 1515. 
 
 bed. He did not taste any of the delicacies which ap- 
 
 peared at his table, but satisfied himself with that sim- 
 ple diet which the rule of his order prescribed l . Not- 
 withstanding these peculiarities, so opposite to the 
 manners of the world, he possessed a thorough know- 
 ledge of its affairs ; and no sooner was he called by his 
 station, and by the high opinion which Ferdinand and 
 Isabella entertained of him, to take a principal share in 
 the administration, than he displayed talents for busi- 
 ness which rendered the fame of his wisdom equal to 
 that of his sanctity. His political conduct, remarkable 
 for the boldness and originality of all his plans, flowed 
 from his real character, and partook both of its virtues 
 and its defects. His extensive genius suggested to 
 him schemes vast and magnificent. Conscious of the 
 integrity of his intentions, he pursued these with unre- 
 mitting and undaunted firmness. Accustomed from 
 his early youth to mortify his own passions, he showed 
 little indulgence toward those of other men. Taught 
 by his system of religion to check even his most inno- 
 cent desires, he was the "enemy of every thing to which 
 he could affix the name of elegance or pleasure. 
 Though free from any suspicion of cruelty, he disco- 
 vered in all his commerce with the world a severe in- 
 flexibility of mind, and austerity of character, peculiar 
 to the monastic profession, and which can hardly be 
 conceived in a country where that is unknown. 
 
 Such was the man to whom Ferdinand committed Cardinal 
 the regency of Castile; and though Ximenes was then j" t *j ap ~ 
 near fourscore, and perfectly acquainted with the la- regent by 
 bour and difficulty of the ollice, his natural intrepidity 
 of mind, and zeal for the public good, prompted him 
 to accept of it without hesitation. Adrian of Utrecht, 
 who had been sent into Spain a few months before the 
 
 1 llistoirc (K: I'AiliuinistMlion du Card. XiftiL-n. par Mich. Baudin 
 1635. p. U.
 
 200 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i, 
 
 Ximenes 
 obtains the 
 
 tion of 
 cautions 
 
 1516. death of Ferdinand, produced full powers from the 
 archduke to assume the name and authority of regent, 
 upon the demise of his grandfather ; but such was the 
 aversion of the Spaniards to the government of a 
 stranger, and so unequal the abilities of the two com- 
 petitors, that Adrian's claim' would at once have been 
 rejected, if Ximenes himself, from complaisance to his 
 new master, had not consented to acknowledge him as 
 recent, and to carry on the government in conjunction 
 with him. By this, however, Adrian acquired a dignity 
 merely nominal. Ximenes, though he treated him with 
 g,. eat decency, and even respect, retained the whole 
 power in his own hands ra . 
 
 The cardinal's first care was to observe the motions 
 of the infant don Ferdinand, who, having been flatter- 
 ec * w ^ so near a P ros P ect ^ supreme power, bore the 
 
 Ferdinand, disappointment of his hopes with greater impatience 
 than a prince at a period of life so early could have 
 been supposed to feel. Ximenes, under pretence of 
 providing more effectually for his safety, removed him 
 from Guadaloupe, the place in which he had been 
 educated, to Madrid, where he fixed the residence of 
 the court. There he was under the cardinal's own 
 eye, and his conduct, with that of his domestics, was 
 watched with the utmost attention n . 
 
 The first intelligence he received from the Low 
 Countries gave greater disquiet to the cardinal, and 
 convinced him how difficult a task it would be to con- 
 duct the affairs of an unexperienced prince, under the 
 influence of counsellors unacquainted with the laws and 
 manners of Spain. No sooner did the account of Fer- 
 dinand's death reach Brussels, than Charles, by the 
 
 Charles advie of his Flemish ministers, resolved to assume the 
 
 thTtTue of title of kin S- B y the laws of Spain, the sole right to 
 king. the crowns, both of Castile and of Aragon, belonged 
 
 m Cornelius de Reb. gest. Ximenii, p. 150. fol. Compl. 1569. 
 n Miniana. Contin. Marianae, lib. i. c. 2. Baudier, Hist, de Ximen. 
 p. 118.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 201 
 
 to Joanna ; and though her infirmities disqualified her 1515. 
 from governing, this incapacity had not been declared 
 by any public act of the cortes in either kingdom ; so 
 that the Spaniards considered this resolution, not only 
 as a direct violation of their privileges, but as an un- 
 natural usurpation in a son on the prerogatives of a 
 mother, towards whom, in her present unhappy situa- 
 tion, he manifested a less delicate regard than her 
 subjects had always expressed . The Flemish court, 
 however, having prevailed both on the pope and on the 
 emperor to address letters to Charles as king of Castile, 
 the former of whom, it was pretended, had a right, as 
 head of the church, and the latter, as head of the 
 empire, to confer this title, instructions were sent to 
 Ximenes, to prevail on the Spaniards to acknowledge 
 it. Ximenes, though he had earnestly remonstrated 
 against the measure, as no less unpopular than un- 
 necessary, resolved to exert all his authority and credit 
 in carrying it into execution, and immediately assem- 
 bled such of the nobles as were then at court. What 
 Charles required was laid before them; and when, 
 instead of complying with his demands, they began to 
 murmur against such an unprecedented encroachment 
 on their privileges, and to talk high of the rights of 
 Joanna, and their oath of allegiance to her, Ximenes Recognised 
 hastily interposed, and, with that firm and decisive tone Influence 1 of 
 which was natural to him, told them that they were not Ximenes, 
 called now to deliberate, but to obey ; that their sove- 
 reign did not apply to them for advice, but expected 
 submission ; and * this day,' added he, * Charles shall 
 be proclaimed king of Castile in Madrid ; and the rest 
 of the cities, I doubt not, will follow its example.' On 
 the spot he gave orders for that purpose p ; and, not- 
 withstanding the novelty of the practice, and the secret 
 discontents of many persons of distinction, Charles's 
 
 P. Mart. Ep. 568. 
 
 Gometius, p. 152, etc. Baudier, Hist, de Xiran. p. 121.
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1516. title was universally recognised. In Aragon, where 
 
 the privileges of the subject were more extensive, and 
 
 the abilities, as well as authority, of the archbishop 
 of Saragossa, whom Ferdinand had appointed regent, 
 were far inferior to those of Ximenes, the same obse- 
 quiousness to the will of Charles did not appear, nor 
 was he acknowledged there under any other character 
 but that of prince, until his arrival in Spain q . 
 H is Ximenes, though possessed only of delegated power, 
 
 schemes w } u 'ch, from his advanced age, he could not expect to 
 for extend- . , , , 
 
 ing the enjoy long, assumed, together with the character ot 
 
 preroga- recent, all the ideas natural to a monarch, and adopted 
 schemes for extending the regal authority, which he 
 pursued with as much intrepidity and ardour, as if he 
 himself had been to reap the advantages resulting from 
 their success. The exorbitant privileges of the Cas- 
 tilian nobles circumscribed the prerogative of the prince 
 within very narrow limits. These privileges the car- 
 dinal considered as so many unjust extortions from the 
 crown, and determined to abridge them. Dangerous 
 as the attempt was, there were circumstances in his 
 situation, which promised him greater success than any 
 king of Castile could have expected. His strict and 
 prudent economy of his archiepiscopal revenues, fur- 
 nished him with more ready money than the crown 
 could at any time command ; the sanctity of his man- 
 ners, his charity, and munificence, rendered him the 
 idol of the people ; and the nobles themselves, not sus- 
 pecting any danger from him, did not observe his mo- 
 tions with tlie same jealous attention, as they would 
 have watched those of one of their monarchs. 
 by depress- Immediately upon his accession to the regency, seve- 
 nobility ra ^ ^ * ne n bles, fancying that the reins of government 
 would of consequence be somewhat relaxed, began to 
 assemble their vassals, and to prosecute, by force of 
 arms, private quarrels and pretensions, which the au- 
 
 i P. Mart. Ep. 572.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 203 
 
 thority of Ferdinand had obliged them to dissemble or 1516. 
 to relinquish. But Ximenes, who had taken into pay ~ 
 a good body of troops, opposed and defeated all their 
 designs with unexpected vigour and facility ; and though 
 he did not treat the authors of these disorders with any 
 cruelty, he forced them to acts of submission, extremely 
 mortifying to the haughty spirit of Castilian grandees. 
 
 But while the cardinal's attacks were confined to in- by forming 
 dividual*, and every act of rigour was justified by the ^o^de- 
 
 appearance of necessity, founded on the forms of ius- pending 
 . , . , . i . J on the 
 
 tice, and tempered with a mixture of lenity, there was crown; 
 scarcely room for jealousy or complaint. It was not so 
 with his next measure, which, by striking at a privilege 
 essential to the nobility, gave a general alarm to the 
 whole order. By the feudal constitution, the military 
 power was lodged in the hands of the nobles, and men 
 of an inferior condition were called into the field only 
 as their vassals, and to follow their banners. A king, 
 with scanty revenues, and a limited prerogative, de- 
 pended on these potent barons in all his operations. It 
 was with their forces he attacked his enemies, and with 
 them he defended his kingdom. While at the head of 
 troops attached warmly to their own immediate lords, 
 and accustomed to obey no other commands, his autho- 
 rity was precarious, and his efforts feeble. From this 
 state Ximenes resolved to deliver the crown; and, as 
 mercenary standing armies were unknown under the 
 feudal government, and would have been odious to a 
 martial and generous people, he issued a proclamation, 
 commanding every city in Castile to enrol a certain 
 number of its burgesses, in order that they might be 
 trained to the use of arms on Sundays and holidays ; he 
 engaged to provide officers to command them at the 
 public expense ; and, as an encouragement to the pri- 
 vate men, promised thorn an exemption from all taxes 
 and impositions. The frequent incursions of the Moors 
 from Africa, and the necessity of having some force 
 always ready to oppose them, furnished a plausible
 
 204 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1516. pretence for this innovation. The object really in view 
 " was to secure the king a body of troops independent 
 of his barons, and which might serve to counterbalance 
 their power r . The nobles were not slow in perceiving 
 what was his intention, and saw how effectually the 
 scheme which he had adopted would accomplish his 
 end ; but as a measure which had the pious appearance 
 of resisting the progress of the infidels was extremely 
 popular, and as any opposition to it, arising from their 
 order alone, would have been imputed wholly to in- 
 terested motives, they endeavoured to excite the cities 
 themselves to refuse obedience, and to inveigh against 
 the proclamation as inconsistent with their charters 
 and privileges. In consequence of their instigations, 
 Burgos, Valladolid, and several other cities, rose in 
 open mutiny. Some of the grandees declared them- 
 selves their protectors. Violent remonstrances were 
 presented to the king. His Flemish counsellors were 
 alarmed. Ximenes alone continued firm and undaunt- 
 ed ; and partly by terrour, partly by entreaty ; by force 
 in some instances, and by forbearance in others; he 
 prevailed on all the refractory cities to comply 3 . During 
 his administration, he continued to execute his plan 
 with vigour; but soon after his death it was entirely 
 dropped. 
 
 by recalling His success in this scheme for reducing the exor- 
 of e f<mner tS D i tant power of the nobility, encouraged him to attempt 
 monarcha a diminution of their possessions, which were no less 
 nobility. exorbitant. During the contests and disorders inse- 
 parable from the feudal government, the nobles, ever 
 attentive to their own interest, and taking advantage of 
 the weakness or distress of their monarchs, had seized 
 some parts of the royal demesnes, obtained grants of 
 others, and, having gradually wrested almost the whole 
 out of the hands of the prince, had annexed them to 
 
 * MinianjE Continuatio Mliianae, fol. Ha;j. 1733. p. 3. 
 
 P. Mart. Ep. 556, etc. Gometius, p. 160. etc.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 205 
 
 their own estates. The titles, by which most of the 1516. 
 grandees held these lands, were extremely defective ; ~ 
 it was from some successful usurpation, which the 
 crown had been too feeble to dispute, that many de- 
 rived their only claim to possession. An inquiry car- 
 ried back to the origin of these encroachments, which 
 were almost coeval with the feudal system, was imprac- 
 ticable; and, as it would have stripped every nobleman 
 in Spain of great part of his lands, it must have excited 
 a general revolt. Such a step was too bold even for 
 the enterprising genius of Ximenes. He confined him- 
 self to the reign of Ferdinand ; and, beginning with the 
 pensions granted during that time, refused to make any 
 farther payment, because all right to them expired 
 with his life. He then called to account such as had 
 acquired crown lands under the administration of that 
 monarch, and at once resumed whatever he had alien- 
 ated. The effects of these revocations extended to 
 many persons of high rank ; for though Ferdinand was 
 a prince of little generosity, yet he and Isabella having 
 been raised to the throne of Castile by a powerful fac- 
 tion of the nobles, they were obliged to reward the 
 zeal of their adherents with great liberality, and the 
 royal demesnes were their only fund for that purpose. 
 The addition made to the revenue of the crown by 
 these revocations, together with his own frugal eco- 
 nomy, enabled Ximenes not only to discharge all the 
 debts which Ferdinand had left, and to remit consider- 
 able sums to Flanders, but to pay the officers of his 
 new militia, and to establish magazines not only more 
 numerous, but better furnished with artillery, arms, and 
 warlike stores, than Spain had ever possessed in any 
 former age*. The prudent and disinterested applica- 
 tion of these sums, was a full apology to the people for 
 the rigour with which they were exacted. 
 
 The nobles, alarmed at these repeated attacks, be- 
 
 Ftechier, Vie de Xim6n. ii. 600.
 
 206 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1516. gan to think of precautions for the safety of their 
 The nobles order. Many cabals were formed, loud complaints 
 oppose his W6 re uttered, and desperate resolutions taken ; but, 
 **' before they proceeded to extremities, they appointed 
 some of their number to examine the powers, in conse- 
 quence of which the cardinal exercised acts of such 
 high authority. The admiral of Castile, the duke de 
 Infantado, and the conde de Benevento, grandees of 
 the first rank, were intrusted with this commission. 
 Ximenes received them with cold civility, and, in an- 
 swer to their demand, produced the testament of Fer- 
 dinand by which he was appointed regent, together 
 but without with the ratification of that deed by Charles. To both 
 success. these they objected ; and he endeavoured to establish 
 their validity. As the conversation grew warm, he 
 led them insensibly towards a balcony, from which they 
 had a view of a large body of troops under arms, and 
 of a formidable train of artillery. ' Behold,' says he, 
 pointing to these and raising his voice, ' the powers 
 which I have received from his catholic majesty. With 
 these I govern Castile ; and with these I will govern it, 
 until the king, your master and mine, takes possession 
 of his kingdom ".' A declaration so bold and haughty 
 silenced them, and astonished their associates. To 
 take arms against a man aware of his danger, and pre- 
 pared for his defence, was what despair alone would 
 dictate. All thoughts of a general confederacy against 
 the cardinal's administration were laid aside ; and, ex- 
 cept from some slight commotions, excited by the pri- 
 vate resentment of particular noblemen, the tranquillity 
 of Castile suffered no interruption. 
 
 Thwarted It was not only from the opposition of the Spanish 
 
 Flemish 10 * * n bility that obstacles arose to the execution of the 
 
 ministers, cardinal's schemes ; he had a constant struggle to 
 
 maintain with the Flemish ministers, who, presuming 
 
 upon their favour with the young king, aimed at di- 
 
 Ftech. ii. 551. Ferrer. Hist. viii. 433.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 207 
 
 recting the affairs of Spain, as well as those of their 1516. 
 own country. Jealous of the great abilities and inde- ~~ 
 pendent spirit of Ximenes, they considered him rather 
 as a rival who might circumscribe their power, than as 
 a minister who, by his prudence and vigour, was add- 
 ing to the grandeur and authority of their master. 
 Every complaint against his administration was listened 
 to with pleasure by the courtiers in the Low Countries. 
 Unnecessary obstructions were thrown by'their means 
 in the way of all his measures ; and though they could 
 not, either with decency or safety, deprive him of the 
 office of regent, they endeavoured to lessen his autho- 
 rity by dividing it. They soon discovered that Adrian 
 of Utrecht, already joined with him in office, had nei- 
 ther genius nor spirit sufficient to give the least check 
 to his proceedings ; and, therefore, Charles, by their An addi- 
 advice, added to the commission of regency la Chau, a j^"^- 111 " 
 Flemish gentleman, and afterwards Amerstorf, a noble- gents ap- 
 man of Holland ; the former distinguished for his ad- p011 
 dress, the latter for his firmness. Ximenes, though no 
 stranger to the malevolent intention of the Flemish 
 courtiers, received these new associates with all the 
 external marks of distinction due to the office with 
 which they were invested; but when they came to 
 enter upon business, he abated nothing of that air of 
 superiority with which he had treated Adrian, and still 
 retained the sole direction of affairs. The Spaniards, Ximenes 
 more averse, perhaps, than any other people, to the ^ fain ? the 
 government of strangers, approved of all his efforts to of affairs 
 preserve his own authority. Even the nobles, influ- 
 enced by this national passion, and forgetting their jea- 
 lousies and discontents, chose rather to see the su- 
 preme power in the hands of one of their countrymen, 
 whom they feared, than in those of foreigners, whom 
 they hated. 
 
 Ximenes, though engaged in such great schemes of iiissuc- 
 domestic policy, and embarrassed by the artifices and 
 intrigues of the Flemish ministers, had the burthen of
 
 208 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1516. two foreign wars to support. The one was in Na- 
 
 varre, which was invaded by its unfortunate monarch, 
 
 John d f Albert. The death of Ferdinand, the absence 
 of Charles, the discord and disaffection which reigned 
 among the Spanish nobles, seemed to present him with 
 a favourable opportunity of recovering his dominions. 
 The cardinal's vigilance, however, defeated a measure 
 so well concerted. As he foresaw the danger to which 
 that kingdom might be exposed, one of his first acts 
 of administration was to order thither a considerable 
 body of troops. While the king was employed with 
 one part of his army in the siege of St. Jean Pied en 
 Port, Villalva, an officer of great experience and cou- 
 rage, attacked the other by surprise, and cut it to 
 pieces. The king instantly retreated with precipita- 
 tion, and an end was put to the war x . But as Navarre 
 was filled at that time with towns and castles slightly 
 fortified and weakly garrisoned, which, being unable 
 to resist an enemy, served only to furnish him with 
 places of retreat ; Ximenes, always bold and decisive 
 in his measures, ordered every one of these to be dis- 
 mantled, except Pampeluna, the fortifications of which 
 he proposed to render very strong. To this uncommon 
 precaution Spain owes the possession of Navarre. The 
 French, since that period, have often entered, and have 
 as often overrun the open country; while they were 
 exposed to all the inconveniencies attending an in- 
 vading army, the Spaniards have easily drawn troops 
 from the neighbouring provinces to oppose them ; and 
 the French, having no place of any strength to which 
 they could retire, have been obliged repeatedly to 
 abandon their conquest with as much rapidity as they 
 gained it. 
 
 His opera- The other war which he carried on in Africa, against 
 Africa n ie tne famous adventurer Horuc Barbarossa, who, from a 
 fortunate, private corsair, raised himself, by his singular valour 
 
 P. Mart Ep. 570.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 209 
 
 and address, to be king of Algiers and Tunis, was far 1516. 
 from being equally successful. The ill conduct of the 
 Spanish general, and the rash valour of his troops, 
 presented Barbarossa with an easy victory. Many 
 perished in the battle, more in the retreat, and the 
 remainder returned into Spain covered with infamy. 
 The magnanimity, however, with which the cardinal 
 bore this disgrace, the only one he experienced during 
 his administration, added new lustre to his character y . 
 Great composure of temper under a disappointment, 
 was not expected from a man so remarkable for the 
 eagerness and impatience with which he urged on the 
 execution of all his schemes. 
 
 This disaster was soon forgotten ; while the conduct Corruption 
 of the Flemish court proved the cause of constant un- p^^, e ish 
 easiness, not only to the cardinal, but to the whole ministers, 
 Spanish nation. All the great qualities of Chi&vres, f^iy^" 
 the prime minister and favourite of the young king, Chievres. 
 were sullied with an ignoble and sordid avarice. The 
 accession of his master to the crown of Spain, opened 
 a new and copious source for the gratification of this 
 passion. During the time of Charles's residence in 
 Flanders, the whole tribe of pretenders to offices or to 
 favour resorted thither. They soon discovered that, 
 without the patronage of Chievres, it was vain to hope 
 for preferment ; nor did they want sagacity to find out 
 the proper method of securing his protection. Great 
 sums of money were drawn out of Spain. Every thing 
 was venal, and disposed of to the highest bidder. After 
 the example of Chievres, the inferior Flemish ministers 
 engaged in this traffic, which became as general and 
 avowed, as it was infamous 2 . The Spaniards were 
 filled with rage, when they beheld offices of great im- 
 portance to the welfare of their country, set to sale by 
 strangers, unconcerned for its honour or its happiness. 
 Xiinenes, disinterested in his whole administration, and 
 
 i Gometius, lib. vi. p. 179. * Miniana, Contin. lib. i. c. 2. 
 
 VOL. III. P
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1516. a stranger, from his native grandeur of mind, to the 
 - passion of avarice, inveighed with the utmost boldness 
 against the venality of the Flemings. He represented 
 to the king, in strong terms, the murmurs and indigna- 
 tion which their behaviour excited among a free and 
 high-spirited people, and besought him to set out with- 
 out loss of time for Spain, that, by his presence, he 
 might dissipate the clouds which were gathering all 
 over the kingdom a . 
 
 Charles Charles was fully sensible that he had delayed too 
 
 EyTime^es l n g to ta ^ e possession of his dominions in Spain, 
 to visit Powerful obstacles, however, stood in his way, and de- 
 tained him in the Low Countries. The war which the 
 league of Cambray had kindled in Italy, still subsisted ; 
 though, during its course, the armies of all the parties 
 engaged in it had changed their destination and their 
 objects. France was now in alliance with Venice, 
 which it had at first combined to destroy. Maximilian 
 and Ferdinand had for some years carried on hostilities 
 against France, their original ally, to the valour of 
 whose troops the confederacy had been indebted in a 
 great measure for its success. Together with his king- 
 doms, Ferdinand transmitted this war to his grandson ; 
 and there was reason to expect that Maximilian, always 
 fond of new enterprises, would persuade the young 
 monarch to enter into it with ardour. But the Flem- 
 ings, who had long possessed an extensive commerce, 
 which, during the league of Cambray, had grown to a 
 great height upon the ruins of the Venetian trade, 
 dreaded a rupture with France; and Chievres, saga- 
 cious to discern the true interest of his country, and 
 not warped on this occasion by his love of wealth, 
 warmly declared for maintaining peace with the French 
 nation. Francis the first, destitute of allies, and soli- 
 . citous to secure his late conquests in Italy by a treaty, 
 listened with joy to the first overtures of accommoda- 
 
 P. Mart. Ep. 576.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 211 
 
 tion. Chievres himself conducted the negotiation in 1516 
 the name of Charles. Gouffier appeared as plenipo- 
 tentiary for Francis. Each of them had presided over 
 the education of the prince whom he represented. 
 They had both adopted the same pacific system ; and 
 were equally persuaded that the union of the two mo- 
 narchs was the happiest event for themselves, as well as 
 for their kingdoms. In such hands the negotiation 
 did not languish. A few days after opening their con- A peace 
 ferences at Noyon, they concluded a treaty of confede- co . n ^" de 
 racy and mutual defence between the two monarchs ; Aug. 13, 
 the chief articles in which were, that Francis should 
 give in marriage to Charles his eldest daughter, the 
 princess Louise, an infant of a year old, and, as her 
 dowry, should make over to him all his claims and pre- 
 tensions upon the kingdom of Naples ; that, in consi- 
 deration of Charles's being already in possession of 
 Naples, he should, until the accomplishment of the 
 marriage, pay an hundred thousand crowns a year to 
 the French king ; and the half of that sum annually, 
 as long as the princess had no children; that when 
 Charles shall arrive in Spain, the heirs of the king of 
 Navarre may represent to him their right to that king- 
 dom; and if, after examining their claim, he does not 
 give them satisfaction, Francis shall be at liberty to assist 
 them with all his forces b . This alliance not only united 
 Charles and Francis, but obliged Maximilian, who was 
 unable alone to cope with the French and Venetians, 
 to enter into a treaty with those powers, which put a 
 final period to the bloody and tedious war that the 
 league of Cambray had occasioned. Europe enjoyed 
 a few years of universal tranquillity, and was indebted 
 for that blessing to two princes, whose rivalship and 
 ambition kept it in perpetual discord and agitation 
 during the remainder of their reigns. 
 
 By the treaty of Noyon, Charles secured a safe pas- 
 
 b Leonard, Recueil ties Traites, torn. ii. 69.
 
 212 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i. 
 
 ings 
 
 averse to 
 Charles's 
 visit to 
 Spain. 
 
 Afraid of 
 
 Ximenes. 
 
 1516. sage into Spain. It was not, however, the interest of 
 The Flem- > s Flemish ministers, that he should visit that king- 
 dom soon. While he resided in Flanders, the revenues 
 of the Spanish crown were spent there, and they en- 
 grossed, without any competitors, all the effects of 
 their monarch's generosity; their country became the 
 seat of government, and all favours were dispensed by 
 them. Of all these advantages they ran the risk of 
 seeing themselves deprived, from the moment that 
 their sovereign entered Spain. The Spaniards would 
 naturally assume the direction of their own affairs ; the 
 Low Countries would be considered only as a province 
 of that mighty monarchy ; and they, who now distri- 
 buted the favours of the prince to others, must then be 
 content to receive them from the hands of strangers. 
 But what Chievres chiefly wished to avoid was, an in- 
 terview between the king and Ximenes. On the one 
 hand, the wisdom, the integrity, and the magnanimity 
 of that prelate gave him a wonderful ascendant over 
 the minds of men ; and it was extremely probable, that 
 these great qualities, added to the reverence due to his 
 age and office, would command the respect of a young 
 prince, who, capable of noble and generous sentiments 
 himself, would, in proportion to his admiration of the 
 cardinal's virtues, lessen his deference towards persons 
 of another character. Or, on the other hand, if Charles 
 should allow his Flemish favourites to retain all the 
 influence over his councils, which they at present pos- 
 sessed, it was easy to foresee that the cardinal would 
 remonstrate loudly against such an indignity to the 
 Spanish nation, and vindicate the rights of his country 
 with the same intrepidity and success, with which he 
 had asserted the prerogatives of the crown. For these 
 reasons, all his Flemish counsellors combined to retard 
 his departure; and Charles, unsuspicious, from want 
 of experience, and fond of his native country, suffered 
 himself to be unnecessarily detained in the Netherlands 
 a whole year after signing the treaty of Noyon.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 213 
 
 The repeated entreaties of Ximenes, the advice of 1517. 
 his grandfather Maximilian, and the impatient mur- Charles 
 murs of his Spanish subjects, prevailed on him at last embarks 
 to embark. He was attended not only by Chievres, r pam ' 
 his prune minister, but by a numerous and splendid 
 train of the Flemish nobles, fond of beholding the 
 grandeur, or of sharing in the bounty, of their prince. 
 After a dangerous voyage, he landed at Villa Viciosa, Sept. 13: 
 in the province of Asturias, and was received with such 
 loud acclamations of joy, as a new monarch, whose 
 arrival was so ardently desired, had reason to expect. 
 The Spanish nobility resorted to their sovereign from 
 all parts of the kingdom, and displayed a magnificence 
 which the Flemings were unable to emulate . 
 
 Ximenes, who considered the presence of the king in s Flemish 
 
 as the greatest blessing to his dominions, was advanc- mi " lsters 
 
 ii c c ft- en " eav ur 
 
 ing towards the coast, as fast as the infirm state of his to prevent 
 
 health would permit, in order to receive him. During ^e^^h 
 his regency, and notwithstanding his extreme old age, Ximenes. 
 he had abated, in no degree, the rigour or frequency 
 of his mortifications ; and to these he added such la- 
 borious assiduity in business, as would have worn out 
 the most youthful and vigorous constitution. Every 
 day he employed several hours in devotion; he cele- 
 brated mass in person; he even allotted some space 
 for study. Notwithstanding these occupations, he re- 
 gularly attended the council ; he received and read all 
 papers presented to him; he dictated letters and in- 
 structions ; and took under his inspection all business, 
 civil, ecclesiastical, or military. Every moment of his 
 time was filled up with some serious employment. The 
 only amusement in which he indulged himself, by way 
 of relaxation after business, was to canvass, with a few 
 friars and other divines, some intricate article in scho- 
 lastic theology. Wasted by such a course of life, the 
 infirmities of aye daily grew upon him. On his journey 
 
 r P. Mart. Ep. 599. 601.
 
 214 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1517. a violent disorder seized him at Bos Equillos, attended 
 " with uncommon symptoms ; which his followers con- 
 sidered as the effect of poison* 1 , but could not agree 
 whether the crime ought to be imputed to the hatred 
 of the Spanish nobles, or to the malice of the Flemish 
 Charles's courtiers. This accident obliging him to stop short, 
 ingratitude j^ wro t e to Charles, and, with his usual boldness, 
 
 to Aimenes. . . 
 
 advised him to dismiss all the strangers in his train, 
 
 whose numbers and credit gave offence already to the 
 Spaniards, and would, ere long, alienate the affections 
 of the whole people. At the same time he earnestly 
 desired to have an interview with the king, that he 
 might inform him of the state of the nation, and the 
 temper of his subjects. To prevent this, not only the 
 Flemings, but the Spanisli grandees, employed all their 
 address, and industriously kept Charles at a distance 
 from Aranda, the place to which the cardinal had re- 
 moved. Through their suggestions, every measure 
 that he recommended was rejected; the utmost care 
 was taken to make him feel, and to point out to the 
 whole nation, that his power was on the decline ; even 
 in things purely trivial, such a choice was always made, 
 as was deemed most disagreeable to him. Ximenes did 
 not bear this treatment with his usual fortitude of spirit. 
 Conscious of his own integrity and merit, he expected 
 a more grateful return from a prince to whom he de- 
 livered a kingdom more flourishing than it had been in 
 any former age, together with authority more extensive, 
 and better established, than the most illustrious of his 
 ancestors had ever possessed. He could not, therefore, 
 on many occasions, refrain from giving vent to his in- 
 dignation and complaints. He lamented the fate of his 
 country, and foretold the calamities which it would 
 suffer from the insolence, the rapaciousness, and igno- 
 rance of strangers. While his mind was agitated by 
 these passions, he received a letter from the king, in 
 
 d Miniana, Contin. lib. i. c. 3.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 215 
 
 which, after a few cold and formal expressions of regard, 1517. 
 he was allowed to retire to his diocese, that, after a life 
 of such continued labour, he might end his days in tran- 
 quillity. This message proved fatal to Ximenes. His His death, 
 haughty mind, it is probable, could not survive dis- 
 grace ; perhaps his generous heart could not bear the 
 prospect of the misfortunes ready to fall on his country. 
 Whichsoever of these opinions we embrace, certain it 
 is that he expired a few hours after reading the let- Nov. 8. 
 ter e . The variety, the grandeur, and the success of his 
 schemes, during a regency of only twenty months, leave 
 it doubtful, whether his sagacity in council, his pru- 
 dence in conduct, or his boldness in execution, deserve 
 the greatest praise. His reputation is still high in 
 Spain, not only for wisdom, but for sanctity ; and he is 
 the only prime minister mentioned in history, whom his 
 contemporaries reverenced as a saint f , and to whom 
 the people under his government ascribed the power of 
 working miracles. 
 
 Soon after the death of Ximenes, Charles made his 1518. 
 public entry, with great pomp, into Valladolid, whither ^[ e * t 
 he had summoned the cortes of Castile. Though he Valladolid. 
 assumed, on all occasions, the name of king, that title 
 had never been acknowledged in the cortes. The 
 Spaniards considering Joanna as possessed of the sole 
 right to the crown, and no example of a son's having 
 enjoyed the title of king during the life of his parents 
 occurring in their history, the cortes discovered all that 
 scrupulous respect for ancient forms, and that aversion 
 to innovation, which are conspicuous in popular as- 
 semblies. The presence, however, of their prince, the 
 address, the artifices, and the threats of his ministers, 
 prevailed on them at last to proclaim him king, in con- Declare 
 junction with his mother, whose name they appointed 
 to be placed before that of her son in all public acts. 
 
 r Marsollier, Tie de Ximt-nes, p. 447. Gometius, lib. vii. p. 206, etc. 
 Haudier, Hist de Xirotn. ii. p. 208. 
 f Flechier, Vie de Xim6n. ii. p. 746.
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1518. But, when they made this concession, they declared, 
 ~~ that if, at any future period, Joanna should recover the 
 exercise of reason, the whole authority should return 
 into her hands. At the same time, they voted a free 
 gift of six hundred thousand ducats to be paid in three 
 years, a sum more considerable than had ever been 
 granted to any former monarch g . 
 
 Discontent Notwithstanding this obsequiousness of the cortes to 
 j^j the will of the king, the most violent symptoms of dis- 
 
 the causes satisfaction with his government began to break out in 
 the kingdom. Chi&vres had acquired over the mind 
 of the young monarch the ascendant not only of a 
 tutor, but of a parent. Charles seemed to have no 
 sentiments but those which his minister inspired, and 
 scarcely uttered a word but what he put into his 
 mouth. He was constantly surrounded by Flemings ; 
 no person got access to him without their permission ; 
 nor was any admitted to audience but in their presence. 
 As he spoke the Spanish language very imperfectly, 
 his answers were always extremely short, and often de- 
 livered with hesitation. From all these circumstances, 
 many of the Spaniards were led to believe that he was 
 a prince of a slow and narrow genius. Some pretended 
 to discover a strong resemblance between him and his 
 mother, and began to whisper that his capacity for go- 
 vernment would never be far superior to hers; and 
 though they who had the best opportunity of judging 
 concerning his character, maintained that, notwith- 
 standing such unpromising appearances, he possessed 
 a large fund of knowledge, as well as of sagacity 11 ; yet 
 all agreed in condemning his partiality towards the 
 Flemings, and his attachment to his favourites, as un- 
 reasonable and immoderate. Unfortunately for Charles, 
 these favourites were unworthy of his confidence. To 
 amass wealth seems to have been their only aim ; and 
 
 * Miniana, Contin. lib. i. c. 3. P. Mart. Ep. 608. Sandov. p. 12. 
 h Sandoval, p. 31. P. Mart. Ep. 665.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 217 
 
 as they had reason to fear, that either their master's good 1518. 
 sense, or the indignation of the Spaniards, might soon ~~ 
 abridge their power, they hastened to improve the pre- 
 sent opportunity, and their avarice was the more rapa- 
 cious, because they expected their authority to be of 
 no long duration. All honours, offices, and benefices, 
 were either engrossed by the Flemings, or publicly 
 sold by them. Chievres, his wife, and Sauvage, whom 
 Charles, on the death of Ximenes, had imprudently 
 raised to be chancellor of Castile, vied with each other 
 in all the refinements of extortion and venality. Not 
 only the Spanish historians, who, from resentment, may 
 be suspected of exaggeration, but Peter Martyr An- 
 gleria, an Italian, who resided at that time in the court 
 of Spain, and who was under no temptation to deceive 
 the persons to whom his letters are addressed, give a 
 description which is almost incredible, of the insatiable 
 and shameless covetousness of the Flemings. Accord- 
 ing to Angleria's calculation, which he asserts to be 
 extremely moderate, they remitted into the Low Coun- 
 tries, in the space of ten months, no less a sum than a 
 million and one hundred thousand ducats. The nomi- 
 nation of William de Croy, Chievres' nephew, a young 
 man not of canonical age, to the archbishopric of 
 Toledo, exasperated the Spaniards more than all these 
 exactions. They considered the elevation of a stranger 
 to the head of their church, and to the richest benefice 
 in the kingdom, not only as an injury, but as an insult 
 to the whole nation; both clergy and laity, the former 
 from interest, the latter from indignation, joined in ex- 
 claiming against it '. 
 
 Charles, leaving Castile thus disgusted with his ad- Charles 
 
 ministration, set out for Saragossa, the capital of Ara- holds th * 
 
 . cortes of 
 
 gon, that he might be present in the cortes of that Aragon. 
 kingdom. On his way thither, he took leave of his 
 
 ' Sandoval, 28. 31. P. Mart. Ep. 608. 611. 613, 614. 622, 623. 639. 
 Mimana, Contin. lib. i. c. 3. p. 8.
 
 218 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK r. 
 
 1518. 
 
 The Ara- 
 
 gonese 
 more un- 
 tractable 
 
 brother Ferdinand, whom he sent into Germany on the 
 pretence of visiting their grandfather Maximilian, in 
 his old age. To this prudent precaution Charles owed 
 the preservation of his Spanish dominions. During 
 the violent commotions which arose there, soon after 
 this period, the Spaniards would infallibly have offered 
 the crown to a prince who was the darling of the whole 
 nation ; nor did Ferdinand want ambition, or counsel- 
 lors, that might have prompted him to accept of the 
 offer k . 
 
 The Aragonese had not hitherto acknowledged 
 Charles as king, nor would they allow the cortes to be 
 assembled in his name, but in that of the justiza, to 
 Castilians. whom, during an interregnum, this privilege belonged '. 
 The opposition Charles had to struggle with, in the 
 cortes of Aragon, was more violent and obstinate than 
 that which he had overcome in Castile: after long 
 delays, however, and with much difficulty, he persuad- 
 ed the members to confer on him the title of king, in 
 conjunction with his mother. At the same time he 
 bound himself, by that solemn oath, which the Ara- 
 gonese exacted of their kings, never to violate any of 
 their rights or liberties. When a donative was de- 
 manded, the members were still more intractable ; 
 many months elapsed before they would agree to grant 
 Charles two hundred thousand ducats ; and tha't sum 
 they appropriated so strictly for paying debts of the 
 crown, which had long been forgotten, that a very 
 small part of it came into the king's hands. What had 
 happened in Castile taught them caution, and deter- 
 mined them rather to satisfy the claims of their fellow- 
 citizens, how obsolete soever, than to furnish strangers 
 the means of enriching themselves with the spoils of 
 their country" 1 . 
 
 During these proceedings of the cortes, ambassadors 
 
 * P. Martyr, Ep. 619. Ferreras, viii. 460. 
 
 1 P. Martyr, Ep. 605. 
 
 m P. Martyr, Ep. 615. 634.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 219 
 
 arrived at Saragossa from Francis the first, and the 1518. 
 young king of Navarre, demanding the restitution of ~~ 
 that kingdom in terms of the treaty of Noyon. But 
 neither Charles, nor the Castilian nobles, whom he con- 
 sulted on this occasion, discovered any inclination to 
 part with this acquisition. A conference held soon 
 after at Montpelier, in order to bring this matter to 
 an amicable issue, was altogether fruitless: while the 
 French urged the injustice of the usurpation, the Spa- 
 niards were attentive only to its importance n . 
 
 From Aragon Charles proceeded to Catalonia, where 1519. 
 he wasted as much time, encountered more difficulties, 
 and gained less money. The Flemings were now be- 
 come so odious in every province of Spain by their 
 exactions, that the desire of mortifying them, and of 
 disappointing their avarice, augmented the jealousy 
 with which a free people usually conduct their delibe- 
 rations. 
 
 The Castilians, who had felt most sensibly the weight Combina- 
 and rigour of the oppressive schemes carried on by the r n t r the 
 Flemings, resolved no longer to submit with a tameness against the 
 fatal to themselves, and which rendered them the ob- 
 jects of scorn to their fellow-subjects in the other king- 
 doms, of which the Spanish monarchy was composed. 
 Segovia, Toledo, Seville, and several other cities of the 
 first rank, entered into a confederacy for the defence of 
 their rights and privileges ; and, notwithstanding the 
 silence of the nobility, who, on this occasion, discovered 
 neither the public spirit, nor the resolution which be- 
 came their order, the confederates laid before the king 
 a full view of the state of the kingdom, and of the 
 maladministration of his favourites. The preferment 
 of strangers, the exportation of the current coin, the 
 increase of taxes, were the grievances of which they 
 chiefly complained; and of these they demanded re- 
 dress with that boldness which is natural to a free 
 
 P. Martyr, Ep. 605. 633. 640.
 
 220 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i. 
 
 1519. 
 
 Death of 
 the empe- 
 ror Maxi- 
 milian. 
 Jan. 12. 
 
 people. These remonstrances, presented at first at Sa- 
 ragossa, and renewed afterwards at Barcelona, Charles 
 treated with great neglect. The confederacy, however, 
 of these cities, at this juncture, was the beginning of 
 that famous union among the commons of Castile, 
 which, not long after, threw the kingdom into such 
 violent convulsions as shook the throne, and almost 
 overturned the constitution . 
 
 Soon after Charles's arrival at Barcelona, he received 
 the account of an event which interested him much 
 more than the murmurs of the Castilians, or the scruples 
 of the cortes of Catalonia. This was the death of the 
 emperor Maximilian; an occurrence of small import- 
 ance in itself, for he was a prince conspicuous neither 
 for his virtues, nor his power, nor his abilities; but 
 rendered by its consequences more memorable than 
 any that had happened during several ages. It broke 
 that profound and universal peace which then reigned 
 in the Christian world ; it excited a rivalship between 
 two princes, which threw all Europe into agitation, and 
 kindled wars more general and of longer duration, than 
 had hitherto been known in modern times. 
 
 The revolutions occasioned by the expedition of the 
 French king, Charles the eighth, into Italy, had in- 
 spired the European princes with new ideas concerning 
 the importance of the imperial dignity. The claims of 
 the empire upon some -of the Italian states were nu- 
 merous ; its jurisdiction over others was extensive ; and 
 though the former had been almost abandoned, and 
 the latter seldom exercised, under princes of slender 
 abilities and of little influence, it was obvious that, in 
 the hands of an emperor possessed of power or of 
 genius, they might be employed as engines for .stretch- 
 ing his dominion over the greater part of that country. 
 Even Maximilian, feeble and unsteady as his conduct 
 always was, had availed himself of the infinite preten- 
 
 P. Martyr, Ep. 630. Ferreras, viii. 464.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 221 
 
 sions of the empire, and had reaped advantage from 1519. 
 every war, and every negotiation in Italy during his 
 reign. These considerations, added to the dignity of 
 the station, confessedly the first among Christian princes, 
 and to the rights inherent in the office, which, if ex- 
 erted with vigour, were far from being inconsiderable, 
 rendered the imperial crown more than ever an object 
 of ambition. 
 
 Not long before his death, Maximilian had dis- Maximilian 
 covered great solicitude to preserve this dignity in the V o ure d d to a " 
 Austrian family, and to procure the king of Spain to secure the 
 be chosen his successor. But he himself having never crown to his 
 been crowned by the pope, a ceremony deemed essen- grandson. 
 tial in that age, was considered only as emperor ' elect.' 
 Though historians have not attended to that distinc- 
 tion, neither the Italian nor German chancery bestowed 
 any other title upon him than that of king of the Ro- 
 mans ; and no example occurring in history, of any 
 person's being chosen a successor to a king of the 
 Romans, the Germans, always tenacious of their forms, 
 and unwilling to confer upon Charles an office for which 
 their constitution knew no name, obstinately refused to 
 gratify Maximilian in that point p . 
 
 By his death this difficulty was at once removed, and Charles and 
 Charles openly aspired to that dignity which his grand- J rancis tne 
 father had attempted, without success, to secure for titors for the 
 him. At the same time Francis the first, a powerful em P ire ' 
 rival, entered the lists against him ; and the attention 
 of all Europe was fixed upon this competition, no less 
 illustrious from the high rank of the candidates, than 
 for the importance of the prize for which they con- 
 tended. Each of them urged his pretensions with san- 
 guine expectations, and with no unpromising prospect Pretensions 
 of success. Charles considered the imperial crown as an d hopes 
 
 of Charles ; 
 
 v Guicciardini, lib. xiii. p. 15. Hist. Gner. d'Allemagne, par le P. 
 Barre, torn. viii. part. 1. p. 1087. P. Heuter. Rerurn Austr. lib. vii. c. 
 17. 179. lib. viii. c. 2. p. 183.
 
 222 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1519. belonging to him of right, from its long continuance in 
 
 the Austrian line ; he knew that none of the German 
 
 princes possessed power or influence enough to appear 
 as his antagonist; he flattered himself, that no con- 
 sideration would induce the natives of Germany to 
 exalt any foreign prince to a dignity, which during so 
 many ages had been deemed peculiar to their own 
 nation; and least of all, that they would confer this 
 honour upon Francis the first, the sovereign of a peo- 
 ple whose genius, and laws, and manners, differed so 
 widely from those of the Germans, that it was hardly 
 possible to establish any cordial union between them ; 
 he trusted not a little to the effect of Maximilian's ne- 
 gotiations, which, though they did not attain their end, 
 had prepared the minds of the Germans for his eleva- 
 tion to the imperial throne ; but what he relied on as 
 a chief recommendation, was the fortunate situation of 
 his hereditary dominions in Germany, which served as 
 a natural barrier to the empire against the encroach- 
 ments, of the Turkish power. The conquests, the abi- 
 lities, and the ambition of sultan Selim the second had 
 spread over Europe, at that time, a general and well- 
 founded alarm. By his victories over the mamalukes, 
 and the extirpation of that gallant body of men, he had 
 not only added Egypt and Syria to his empire, but had 
 secured to it such a degree of internal tranquillity, that 
 he was ready to turn against Christendom the whole 
 force of his arms, which nothing hitherto had been 
 able to resist. The most effectual expedient for stop- 
 ping the progress of this torrent, seemed to be the 
 election of an emperor possessed of extensive territories 
 in that country, where its first impression would be felt, 
 and who, besides, could combat this formidable enemy 
 with all the forces of a powerful monarchy, and with all 
 the wealth furnished by the mines of the new world, or 
 the commerce of the Low Countries. These were the 
 arguments by which Charles publicly supported his 
 claim ; and to men of integrity and reflection, they ap-
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 223 
 
 peared to be not only plausible but convincing. He 1519> 
 
 did not, however, trust the success of his cause to these 
 alone. Great sums of money were remitted from Spain; 
 all the refinements and artifice of negotiation were em- 
 ployed; and a considerable body of troops, kept on 
 foot at that time by the states of the circle of Suabia, 
 was secretly taken into his pay. The venal were 
 gained by presents ; the objections of the more scru- 
 pulous were answered or eluded ; some feeble princes 
 were threatened and overawed q . 
 
 On the other hand, Francis supported his claim with of Francis. 
 equal eagerness, and no less confidence of its being 
 well founded. His emissaries contended that it was 
 now high time to convince the princes of the house of 
 Austria, that the imperial crown was elective, and not 
 hereditary ; that other persons might aspire to an ho- 
 nour which their arrogance had accustomed them to 
 regard as the property of their family ; that it required 
 a sovereign of mature judgment, and of approved abi- 
 lities, to hold the reins of government, in a country 
 where such unknown opinions concerning religion had 
 been published, as had thrown the minds of men into 
 an uncommon agitation, which threatened the most 
 violent effects ; that a young prince without experience, 
 and who had hitherto given no specimens of his genius 
 for command, was no fit match for Selim, a monarch 
 grown old in the art of war, and in the course of vic- 
 tory ; whereas a king, who in his early youth had tri- 
 umphed over the valour and discipline of the Swiss, till 
 then reckoned invincible, would be an antagonist not 
 unworthy the conqueror of the east ; that the fire and 
 impetuosity of the French cavalry, added to the dis- 
 cipline and stability of the German infantry, would 
 form an army so irresistible, that, instead of waiting 
 the approach of the Ottoman forces, it might carry 
 
 i Guicc. lib. xiii. 159. Sleidan, Hist, of the Reformat. 14. Struvii 
 Corp. Hist. German, ii. 971. Not 20.
 
 224 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i. 
 
 1519. 
 
 Views and 
 interest of 
 other 
 states: 
 
 hostilities into the heart of their dominions ; that the 
 " election of Charles would be inconsistent with a funda- 
 mental constitution, by which the person who holds the 
 crown of Naples is excluded from aspiring to the im- 
 perial dignity ; that his elevation to that honour would 
 soon kindle a war in Italy, on account of his pretensions 
 to the dutchy of Milan, the effects of which could not 
 fail of reaching the empire, and might prove fatal to 
 it T . But while the French ambassadors enlarged upon 
 these and other topics of the same kind, in all the 
 courts of Germany, Francis, sensible of the prejudices 
 entertained against him, as a foreigner unacquainted 
 with the German language or manners, endeavoured to 
 overcome these, and to gain the favour of the princes, 
 by immense gifts, and by infinite promises. As the ex- 
 peditious method of transmitting money, and the decent 
 mode of conveying a bribe, by bills of exchange, were 
 then little known, the French ambassadors travelled 
 with a train of horses loaded with treasure, an equipage 
 not very honourable for that prince by whom they were 
 employed, and infamous for those to whom they were 
 sent 3 . 
 
 The other European princes could not remain in- 
 different spectators of a contest, the decision of which 
 so nearly affected every one of them. Their common 
 interest ought naturally to have formed a general com- 
 bination, in order to disappoint both competitors, and 
 to prevent either of them from obtaining such a pre- 
 eminence in power and dignity, as might prove dan- 
 gerous to the liberties of Europe. But the ideas with 
 Tespect to a proper distribution and balance of power 
 were so lately introduced into the system of European 
 policy, that they were not hitherto objects of sufficient 
 attention. The passions of some princes, the want of 
 
 r Guicc. lib. xiii. 160. Sleid. p. 16. Geor. Sabini de Elect. Car. V. 
 Historia apud Scardii Script. Rer. German, vol. ii. p. 4. 
 Mlmoires du Mare"ch. de Fleuranges, p. 296.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 225 
 
 foresight in others, and the fear of giving offence to the 1519. 
 candidates, hindered such a salutary union of the powers ~ 
 of Europe, and rendered them either totally negligent 
 of the public safety, or kept them from exerting them- 
 selves with vigour in its behalf. 
 
 The Swiss cantons, though they dreaded the eleva-ofthe 
 tion of either of the contending monarchs, and though Swlss ' 
 they wished to have seen some prince whose dominions 
 were less extensive, and whose power was more mode- 
 rate, seated on the imperial throne, were prompted, 
 however, by their hatred of the French nation, to give 
 an open preference to the pretensions of Charles, while 
 they used their utmost influence to frustrate those of 
 Francis l . 
 
 The Venetians easily discerned, that it was the 'in- of the Ve- 
 terest of their republic to have both the rivals set aside; n * 
 but their jealousy of the house of Austria, whose ambi- 
 tion and neighbourhood had been fatal to their gran- 
 deur, would not permit them to act up to their own 
 ideas, and led them hastily to give the sanction of their 
 approbation to the claim of the French king. 
 
 It was equally the interest, and more in the power, of Henry 
 of Henry the eighth of England, to prevent either the eighth 
 Francis or Charles from acquiring a dignity which 
 would raise them so far above other monarchs. But 
 though Henry often boasted that he held the balance 
 of Europe in his hand, he had neither the steady at- 
 tention, the accurate discernment, nor the dispassionate 
 temper which that delicate function required. On this 
 occasion it mortified his vanity so much, to think that 
 he had not entered early into that noble competition 
 which reflected such honour upon the two antagonists, 
 that he took a resolution of sending an ambassador 
 into Germany, and of declaring himself a candidate for 
 the imperial throne. The ambassador, though loaded 
 with caresses by the German princes and the pope's 
 
 1 Sabinus, p. 6. 
 VOL. III. Q
 
 226 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1519. nuncio, informed his master, that he could hope for no 
 success in a claim which he had been so late in pre- 
 ferring. Henry, imputing his disappointment to that 
 circumstance alone, and soothed with this ostentations 
 display of his own importance, seems to have taken no 
 farther part in the matter, either by contributing to 
 thwart both his rivals, or to promote one of them", 
 of Leo the Leo the tenth, a pontiff no less renowned for his po- 
 tenth. Htical abilities than for his love of the arts, was the 
 only prince of the age who observed the motions of 
 the two contending monarchs, with a prudent atten- 
 tion, or who discovered a proper solicitude for the 
 public safety. The imperial and papal jurisdiction in- 
 terfered in so many instances, the complaints of usurpa- 
 tiofi were so numerous on both sides, and the territo- 
 ries of the church owed their security so little to their 
 own force, and so much to the weakness of the powers 
 around them, that nothing was so formidable to the 
 court of Rome as an emperor with extensive domi- 
 nions, or of enterprising genius. Leo trembled at the 
 prospect of beholding the imperial crown placed on the 
 head of the king of Spain and of Naples, and the mas- 
 ter of the new world ; nor was he less afraid of seeing 
 a king of France, who was duke of Milan and lord of 
 Genoa, exalted to that dignity. He foretold that the 
 election of either of them would be fatal to the inde- 
 pendence of the holy see, to the peace of Italy, and, 
 perhaps, to the liberties of Europe. But to oppose 
 them with any prospect of success, required address 
 and caution in proportion to the greatness of their 
 power, and their opportunities of taking revenge. Leo 
 was defective in neither. He secretly exhorted the 
 German princes to place one of their own number on 
 the imperial throne, which many of them were capable 
 of filling with honour. He put them in mind of the 
 constitution by which the kings of Naples were for 
 
 u Meinoires de Fleuranges, 314. Herbert, Hist, of Henry the eighth.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 227 
 
 ever excluded from that dignity". He warmly ex- 1519 - 
 
 horted the French king to persist in his claim; not 
 from any desire that he should gain his end ; but, as 
 he foresaw that the Germans would be more disposed 
 to favour the king of Spain, he hoped that Francis 
 himself, when he discovered his own chance of success 
 to be desperate, would be stimulated by resentment 
 and the spirit of rivalship, to concur with all his in- 
 terest in raising some third person to the head of the 
 empire: or, on the other hand, if Francis should make 
 an unexpected progress, he did not doubt but that 
 Charles would be induced, by similar motives, to act the 
 same part : and thus, by a prudent attention, the mu- 
 tual jealousy of the two rivals might be so dexterously 
 managed, as to disappoint both. But this scheme, the 
 only one which a prince in Leo's situation could adopt, 
 though concerted with great wisdom, Mas executed 
 with little discretion. The French ambassadors in 
 Germany fed their master with vain hopes ; the pope's 
 nuncio, being gained by them, altogether forgot the 
 instructions which he had received ; and Francis per- 
 severed so long and with such obstinacy in urging his 
 own pretensions, as rendered all Leo's measures abor- 
 tive y . 
 
 Such were the hopes of the candidates, and the The dit as- 
 views of the different princes when the diet was opened ^ mb l f h 
 according to form at Frankfort. The right of choos- 
 ing an emperor had long been vested in seven great 
 princes, distinguished by the name of electors, the ori- 
 gin of whose office, as well as the nature and extent of 
 their powers, have already been explained. These 
 were, at that time, Albert of Brandenburgh, arch- 
 bishop of Mentz; Herman count de VVied, archbishop 
 of Cologne; Richard de Greiffenklau, archbishop of 
 Triers: Lewis, king of Bohemia : Lewis, count pala- 
 
 " (fo!da.sti Constitutiones Imperial**. Krancof. 1673. vol. i. 439. 
 ' Guirciar. lib. xiii. 161.
 
 228 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1519. tine of the Rhine ; Frederic, duke of Saxony ; and 
 Joachim the first, marquis of Brandenburgh. Not- 
 
 the electors, withstanding the artful arguments produced by the 
 ambassadors of the two kings in favour of their re- 
 spective masters, and in spite of all their solicitations, 
 intrigues, and presents, the electors did not forget that 
 maxim, on which the liberty of the German constitu- 
 tion was thought to be founded. Among the members 
 of the Germanic body, which is a great republic com- 
 posed of states almost independent, the first principle 
 of patriotism is to depress and limit the power of the 
 emperor; and of this idea, so natural under such a form 
 of government, a German politician seldom loses sight. 
 No prince of considerable power or extensive dominions 
 had for some ages been raised to the imperial throne. 
 To this prudent precaution many of the great families 
 in Germany owed the splendour and independence 
 which they had acquired during that period. To elect 
 either of the contending monarchs would have been a 
 gross violation of that salutary maxim; would have 
 given to the empire a master instead of an head ; and 
 would have reduced themselves from the rank of being 
 almost his equals, to the condition of his subjects. 
 
 Offer the Full of these ideas, all the electors turned their eyes 
 ^ towards Frederic, duke of Saxony, a prince of such 
 
 Frederic of eminent virtue and abilities as to be distinguished by 
 the name of the ' sage,' and with one voice they offered 
 him the imperial crown. He was not dazzled with that 
 object, which monarchs, so far superior to him in 
 power, courted with such eagerness; and after deli- 
 
 who rejects berating upon the matter a short time, he rejected it 
 with a magnanimity and disinterestedness no less sin- 
 gular than admirable. ' Nothing,' he observed, ' could 
 be more impolitic, than an obstinate adherence to a 
 maxim which, though sound and just in many cases, 
 was not applicable to all. In times of tranquillity, said 
 he, we wish for an emperor who has not power to in- 
 vade our liberties ; times of danger demand one who is
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 229 
 
 able to secure our safety. The Turkish armies, led by 1519. 
 a gallant and victorious monarch, are now assembling. " 
 They are ready to pour in upon Germany with a vio- 
 lence unknown in former ages. New conjunctures call 
 for new expedients. The imperial sceptre must be 
 committed to some hand more powerful than mine, or 
 that of any other German prince. We possess neither 
 dominions, nor revenues, nor authority, which enable 
 us to encounter such a formidable enemy. Recourse 
 must be had, in this exigency, to one of the rival mo- 
 narchs. Each of them can bring into the field forces 
 sufficient for our defence. But as the king of Spain is 
 of German extraction; as he is a member and prince 
 of the empire by the territories which descend to him 
 from his grandfather; as his dominions stretch along 
 that frontier which lies most exposed to the enemy; 
 his claim is preferable, in my opinion, to that of a 
 stranger to our language, to our blood, and to our 
 country ; and therefore I give my vote to confer on 
 him the imperial crown.' 
 
 This opinion, dictated by such uncommon genero- 
 sity, and supported by arguments so plausible, made a 
 deep impression on the electors. The king of Spain's 
 ambassadors, sensible of the important service which 
 Frederic had done their master, sent him a consider- 
 able sum of money, as the first token of that prince's 
 gratitude. But he who had greatness of mind to re- an j re f uses 
 fuse a crown, disdained to receive a bribe; and, upon *"> P re - 
 
 . . . , , .. ., sent from 
 
 their entreating that, at least, he would permit them to Charles's 
 distribute part of that sum among his attendants, he amba 
 replied, that he could not prevent them from accepting 
 what should be offered, but whoever took a single 
 florin should be dismissed next morning from his ser~ 
 vice 2 . 
 
 * P. Daniel, an historian of considerable name, seems to call in question 
 the truth of this account of Frederic's behaviour in refusing the imperial 
 crown, because it is not mentioned by Georgius Sabinus in his History of 
 the Klection and Coronation of Charles the Fifth, torn. iii. p. 63. But no
 
 .' ;o THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 I5i:i. No prince in Germany could now aspire to a dig- 
 Farther de- "ty which Frederic had declined, for reasons applica- 
 liberations \ y \ e to them all. It remained to make a choice between 
 tors."' the two <;reat competitors. But besides the prejudice 
 in Charles's favour, arising from his birth, as well as 
 the situation of his Gentian dominions, he owed not a 
 little to the abilities of the cardinal de Gurk, and the 
 zeal of Erard de la Mark, bishop of Liege, two of his 
 ambassadors, who had conducted their negotiations 
 with more prudence and address than those intrusted 
 by the French king. The former, who had long been 
 the minister and favourite of Maximilian, was well ac- 
 quainted with the art of managing the Germans ; and 
 the latter, having been disappointed of a cardinal's hat 
 by Francis, employed all the malicious ingenuity with 
 which the desire of revenge inspires an ambitious mind, 
 in thwarting the measures of that monarch. The Spa- 
 nish party among the electors daily gained ground ; 
 and even the pope's nuncio, being convinced that it 
 was vain to make any farther opposition, endeavoured 
 to acquire some merit with the future emperor, by 
 offering voluntarily, in the name of his master, a dis- 
 pensation to hold the imperial crown in conjunction 
 with that of Naples a . 
 
 On the twenty-eighth of June, five months and ten 
 days after the death of Maximilian, this important con- 
 great stress ought to be laid on an omission in a superficial author, whose 
 treatise, though dignified with the name of History, contains only stich an 
 account of the ceremonial of Charles's election, as is usually published in 
 Germany on like occasions. Scard. Rer. Germ. Script, vol. ii. p. 1. The 
 testimony of Erasmus, lib. xiii. epist. 4. and that of Sleidan, p. 18. are ex- 
 press. Seckendorf, in his Commentarius Historicus et Apologeticus de Lu- 
 theranismo, p. 121. has examined this fact with his usual industry, and has 
 established its truth by the most undoubted evidence. To these testimo- 
 nies which he has collected, I may add the decisive one of cardinal Caje- 
 tan, the pope's legate at Frankfort, in his letter, July 5th, 1519. Epistres 
 des Princes, etc. recueillies par Ruscelli, traduictes par Belfo'rest. Par. 
 1572, p. 60. 
 
 * Freheri Rer. German. Scriptores, vol. iii. 172. cur Struvii. Argent. 
 1717. Giannone, Hist, of Naples, ii. 498.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 231 
 
 test, which had held all Europe in suspense, was de- 
 cided. Six of the electors had already declared for the They choose 
 king of Spain ; and the archbishop of Triers, the only Charles 
 firm adherent to the French interest, having at last 
 joined his brethren, Charles was, by the unanimous 
 voice of the electoral college, raised to the imperial 
 throne b . 
 
 But though the electors consented, from various They are 
 motives, to promote Charles to that high station, they ^ r f 
 discovered at the same time great jealousy of his extra- power, and 
 ordinary power, and endeavoured, with the utmost soli- ^ u e t i{^~ 
 citude, to provide against his encroaching on the privi- against it. 
 leges of the Germanic body. It had long been the 
 custom to demand of every new emperor a confirmation 
 of these privileges, and to require a promise that he 
 never would violate them in any instance. While 
 princes, who were formidable neither from extent of 
 territory, nor of genius, possessed the imperial throne, 
 a general and verbal engagement to this purpose was 
 deemed sufficient security. But, under an emperor so 
 powerful as Charles, other precautions seemed neces- 
 sary. A * capitulation' or claim of right was formed, 
 in which the privileges and immunities of the electors, 
 of the princes of the empire, of the cities, and of every 
 other member of the Germanic body, are enumerated. 
 This capitulation was immediately signed by Charles's 
 ambassadors, in the name of their master, and he him- 
 self, at his coronation, confirmed it in the most solemn 
 manner. Since that period, the electors have continued 
 to prescribe the same conditions to all his successors ; 
 ;iml the capitulation, or mutual contract between the 
 emperor and his subjects, is considered in Germany as 
 a strong barrier against the progress of the imperial 
 power, and as the great charter of their liberties, to 
 which they often appeal c . 
 
 b Jac. Aug. Thuan. Hist, sui Temporis, edit. Bulkley, lib. i. c. 9. 
 e Pfeffel, AbrfgS de 1'Hist. du Droit Public d'Allemagne, 590. Lironei 
 ( '[.itulat. Inipcr. KpiMres des Princes par Ruscelli, p. 60.
 
 THE UEIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK i. 
 
 1519. 
 
 Tin- t-Kv- 
 tion noti- 
 fied to 
 Charles. 
 
 Its effect 
 upon him. 
 
 The Spa- 
 niards dis- 
 satisfied 
 with this 
 event. 
 
 The important intelligence of his election was con- 
 veyed in nine clays from Frankfort to Barcelona, where 
 Charles was still detained by the obstinacy of the Cata- 
 lonian cortes, which had not hitherto brought to an 
 issue any of the affairs which came before it. He re- 
 ceived the account with the joy natural to a young and 
 aspiring mind, on an accession of power and dignity 
 which raised him so far above the other princes of 
 Europe. Then it was that those vast prospects, which 
 allured him during his whole administration, began to 
 open ; and from this aera we may date the formation, 
 and are able to trace the gradual progress, of a grand 
 system of enterprising ambition, which renders the his- 
 tory of his reign so worthy of attention. 
 
 A trivial circumstance first discovered the effects of 
 this great elevation upon the mind of Charles. In all 
 the public writs which he now issued as king of Spain, 
 he assumed the title of ' majesty,' and required it from 
 his subjects as a mark of their respect. Before that 
 time, all the monarchs of Europe were satisfied with 
 the appellation of ' highness' or ' grace ;' but the vanity 
 of other courts soon led them to imitate the example 
 of the Spanish. The epithet of majesty is no longer a 
 mark of preeminence. The most inconsiderable mon- 
 archs in Europe enjoy it, and the arrogance of the 
 greater potentates has invented no higher denomina- 
 tion d . 
 
 The Spaniards were far from viewing the promotion 
 of their king to the imperial throne with the same sa- 
 tisfaction which he himself felt. To be deprived of 
 the presence of their sovereign, and to be subjected to 
 the government of a viceroy and his council, a species 
 of administration often oppressive and always disagree- 
 able, were the immediate and necessary consequences 
 of this new dignity. To see the blood of their coun- 
 
 d Minianz Contin. Mar. p. 13. Ferreras, viii. 475. Memoires Hist, dc 
 la Houssaie, torn. i. p. 53, etc.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 233 
 
 trymen shed in quarrels wherein the nation had no 1519. 
 concern ; to behold its treasures wasted in supporting 
 the splendour of a foreign title ; to be plunged in the 
 chaos of Italian and German politics, were effects of 
 this event almost as unavoidable. From all these con- 
 siderations, they concluded, that nothing could have 
 happened more pernicious to the Spanish nation ; and 
 the fortitude and public spirit of their ancestors, who, 
 in the cortes of Castile, prohibited Alphonso the wise 
 from leaving the kingdom, in order to receive the im- 
 perial crown, were often mentioned with the highest 
 praise, and pronounced to be extremely worthy of imi- 
 tation at this juncture e . 
 
 But Charles, without regarding the sentiments or 
 murmurs of his Spanish subjects, accepted of the im- 
 perial dignity which the count palatine, at the head of 
 a solemn embassy, offered him in the name of the elect- 
 ors ; and declared his intention of setting out soon for November. 
 Germany, in order to take possession of it. This was 
 the more necessary, because, according to the forms of 
 the German constitution, he could not, before the cere- 
 mony of a public coronation, exercise any act of juris- 
 diction or authority f . 
 
 Their certain knowledge of this resolution aug- Their dis- 
 mented so much the disgust of the Spaniards, that a content 
 
 . . -11 increases. 
 
 sullen and refractory spirit prevailed among persons 
 of all ranks. The pope having granted the king the 
 tenths of all ecclesiastical benefices in Castile, to assist 
 him in carrying on war with greater vigour against the 
 Turks, a convocation of the clergy unanimously re- 
 fused to levy that sum, upon pretence that it ought 
 never to be exacted but at those times when christen- 
 dom was actually invaded by the infidels ; and though 
 Leo, in order to support his authority, laid the king- 
 dom under an interdict, so little regard was paid to a 
 
 c Sandoval, i. p. 32. Minianae Contin. p. 14. 
 ' Sabinus, P. Barre, viii. 1085.
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 1519. censure which was universally deemed unjust, that 
 ~~ Charles himself applied to have it taken off. Thus 
 the Spanish clergy, besides their merit in opposing the 
 usurpations of the pope, and disregarding the influence 
 of the crown, gained the exemption which they had 
 claimed g . 
 
 An insur- The commotions which arose in the kingdom of Va- 
 lencia' ^ enc ^ a > annexed to the crown of Aragon, were more 
 formidable, and produced more dangerous and lasting 
 effects. A seditious monk having by his sermons ex- 
 cited the citizens of Valencia, the capital city, to take 
 arms, and to punish certain criminals in a tumultuary 
 manner, the people, pleased with this exercise of 
 power, and with such a discovery of their own import- 
 ance, not only refused to lay down their arms, but 
 formed themselves into troops and companies, that 
 they might be regularly trained to martial exercises. 
 To obtain some security against the oppression of the 
 grandees was the motive of this association, and proved 
 a powerful bond of union ; for as the aristocratical pri- 
 vileges and independence were more complete in Va- 
 lencia than in any other of the Spanish kingdoms, the 
 nobles, being scarcely accountable for their conduct to 
 any superior, treated the people not only as vassals 
 but as slaves. They were alarmed, however, at the 
 progress of this unexpected insurrection, as it might 
 encourage the people to attempt shaking off the yoke 
 altogether ; but, as they could not repress them with- 
 out taking arms, it became necessary to have recourse 
 to the emperor, and to desire his permission to attack 
 1520. them. At the same time the people made choice of 
 deputies to represent their grievances, and to implore 
 the protection of their sovereign. Happily for the 
 latter, they arrived at court when Charles was exas- 
 perated to an high degree against the nobility. As he 
 was eager to visit Germany, where his presence be- 
 
 * P. Maityr, Kp. Kv2. Ferreras, viii. 473.
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 
 
 came every day more necessary, and as his Flemish 1520. 
 courtiers were still more impatient to return into their ~~ 
 native country, that they might carry thither the spoils 
 which they had amassed in Castile, it was impossible 
 for him to hold the cortes of Valencia in person. He 
 had for that reason empowered the cardinal Adrian to 
 represent him in that assembly, and, in his name, to 
 receive their oath of allegiance, to confirm their pri- 
 vileges with the usual solemnities, and to demand of 
 them a free gift. But the Valencian nobles, who con- 
 sidered this measure as an indignity to their country, 
 which was no less entitled than his other kingdoms to 
 the honour of their sovereign's presence, declared 
 that, by the fundamental laws of the constitution, they 
 could neither acknowledge as king a person who was 
 absent, nor grant him any subsidy; and to this de- 
 claration they adhered with an haughty and inflexible 
 obstinacy. Charles, piqued by their behaviour, de- 
 cided in favour of the people, and rashly authorized 
 them to continue in arms. Their deputies returned in 
 triumph, and were received by their fellow-citizens as 
 the deliverers of their country. The insolence of the 
 multitude increasing with their success, they expelled 
 all the nobles out of the city, committed the govern- 
 ment to magistrates of their own election, and entered 
 into an association distinguished by the name of ' ger- 
 manada' or * brotherhood,' which proved the source 
 not only of the wildest disorders, but of the most fatal 
 calamities in that kingdom h . 
 
 Meanwhile, the kingdom of Castile was agitated with The cortes 
 no less violence. No sooner was the emperor's inten- 
 
 tion to leave Spain made known, than several cities of to meet in 
 the first rank resolved to remonstrate against it, and to 
 crave redress once more of those grievances which they 
 had formerly laid before him. Charles artfully avoided 
 admitting their deputies to audience; and as he saw 
 
 " P. Martyr. Ep. 651. Ferrerms, viii. 476. 486.
 
 236 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK i. 
 
 W20. from this circumstance how difficult it would be, at 
 ~ this juncture, to restrain the mutinous spirit of the 
 greater cities, he summoned the cortes of Castile to 
 meet at Compostella, a town in Galicia. His only rea- 
 son for calling that assembly, was the hope of obtain- 
 ing another donative; for, as his treasury had been 
 exhausted in the same proportion that the riches of 
 his ministers increased, he could not, without some 
 additional aid, appear in Germany with splendour 
 suited to the imperial dignity. To appoint a meeting 
 of the cortes in so remote a province, and to demand a 
 new subsidy before the time for paying the former was 
 expired, were innovations of a most dangerous ten- 
 dency ; and among a people not only jealous of their 
 liberties, but accustomed to supply the wants of their 
 sovereigns with a very frugal hand, excited an uni- 
 versal alarm. The magistrates of Toledo remonstrated 
 against both these measures in a very high tone ; the 
 inhabitants of Valladolid, who expected that the cortes 
 should have been held in that city, were so enraged, 
 that they took arms in a tumultuary manner; and if 
 Charles, with his foreign counsellors, had not fortu- 
 nately made their escape during a violent tempest, they 
 would have massacred all the Flemings, and have pre- 
 vented him from continuing his journey towards Com- 
 postella. 
 
 The pro- Every city through which he passed, petitioned 
 of that against holding a cortes in Galicia, a point with regard 
 assembly, to which Charles was inflexible. But though the ut- 
 most influence had been exerted by the ministers, in 
 order to procure a choice of representatives favourable 
 to their designs, such was the temper of the nation, 
 that, at the opening of the assembly, there appeared 
 among many of the members unusual symptoms of ill- 
 April l. humour, which threatened a fierce opposition to all the 
 measures of the court. No representatives were sent 
 by Toledo ; for the lot, according to which, by ancient 
 custom, the election was determined in that city, hav-
 
 BOOK i. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 237 
 
 ing fallen upon two persons devoted to the Flemish 1520. 
 ministers, their fellow-citizens refused to grant them a ~~ 
 commission in the usual form, and in their stead made 
 choice of two deputies, whom they empowered to re- 
 pair to Compostella, and to protest against the lawful- 
 ness of the cortes assembled there. The representa- The disaf- 
 tives of Salamanca refused to take the usual oath of f cli n . f 
 
 the CasU- 
 
 fidelity, unless Charles consented to change the place Hans in- 
 of meeting. Those of Toro, Madrid, Cordova, and cr 
 several other places, declared the demand of another 
 donative to be unprecedented, unconstitutional, and 
 unnecessary. All the arts, however, which influence 
 popular assemblies, bribes, promises, threats, and even 
 force, were employed, in order to gain members. The 
 nobles, soothed by the respectful assiduity with which 
 Chi&vres and the other Flemings paid court to them, 
 or instigated by a mean jealousy of that spirit of inde- 
 pendence which they saw rising among the commons, 
 openly favoured the pretensions of the court, or at the 
 utmost did not oppose them ; and at last, in contempt 
 not only of the sentiments of the nation, but of the 
 ancient forms of the constitution, a majority voted to 
 grant the donative for which the emperor had applied '. 
 Together with this grant, the cortes laid before Charles 
 a representation of those grievances whereof his people 
 complained, and in their name craved redress ; but he, 
 having obtained from them all that he could expect, 
 paid no attention to this ill-timed petition, which it was 
 no longer dangerous to disregard k . 
 
 As nothing now retarded his embarkation, he dis- Charles 
 closed his intention with regard to the regency of Cas- a PP 01 " ts 
 tile during his absence, which he had hitherto kept during his 
 secret, and nominated cardinal Adrian to that office. a 
 The viceroyalty of Aragon he conferred on don John 
 de Lanuza; that of Valencia on don Diego de Men- 
 doza, conde de Melito. The choice of the two latter 
 
 P. Martyr. Ep. 663. Sandoval, p. 32, etc. k Sandoval, 84.
 
 238 THE REIGN OF THE, ETC. BOOK i. 
 
 1520. was universally acceptable; but the advancement of 
 ~ Adrian, though the only Fleming who had preserved 
 any reputation among the Spaniards, animated the 
 Castilians with new hatred against foreigners ; and 
 even the nobles, who had so tamely suffered other in- 
 roads upon the constitution, felt the indignity offered 
 to their own order by his promotion, and remonstrated 
 against it as illegal. But Charles's desire of visiting 
 Germany, as well as the impatience of his ministers to 
 leave Spain, were now so much increased, that, with- 
 out attending to the murmurs of the Castilians, or even 
 taking time to provide any remedy against an insurrec- 
 tion in Toledo, which, at that time, threatened, and 
 and em- afterwards produced, most formidable effects, he sailed 
 thc^Low fr m Corunna on the twenty-second of May ; and, by 
 Countries, setting out so abruptly in quest of a new crown, he 
 endangered a more important one of which he was al- 
 ready in possession '. 
 
 1 P. Martyr. Ep. 670. Sandov. 86.
 
 THE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROR 
 
 CHARLES THE FIFTH. 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 JVlANY concurring circumstances not only called 1520. 
 Charles's thoughts towards the affairs of Germany, but Charleys 
 rendered his presence in that country necessary. The presence in 
 electors grew impatient of so long an interregnum ; his necessary. 
 hereditary dominions were disturbed by intestine com- 
 motions ; and the new opinions concerning religion 
 made such rapid progress as required the most serious 
 consideration. But, above all, the motions of the 
 French king drew his attention, and convinced him, 
 that it was necessary to take measures for his own de- 
 fence with no less speed than vigour. 
 
 When Charles and Francis entered the lists as can- Rise and 
 dictates for the imperial dignity, they conducted their fi^^i^ 
 rivalship with many professions of regard for each other, shipbe- 
 and with repeated declarations that they would not ^haties 
 suffer any tincture of enmity to mingle itself with this and Francis 
 honourable emulation. ' We both court the same mis- 
 tress,' said Francis, with his usual vivacity ; ' each 
 ought to urge his suit with all the address of which he 
 is master; the most fortunate will prevail, and the 
 other must rest contented*.' But though two young 
 
 Guic. lib. xiii. p. 159.
 
 240 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. and high-spirited princes, and each of them animated 
 " with the hope of success, might be capable of forming 
 such a generous resolution, it was soon found that they 
 promised upon a moderation too refined and disin- 
 terested for human nature. The preference given to 
 Charles in the sight of all Europe mortified Francis ex- 
 tremely, and inspired him with all the passions natural 
 to disappointed ambition. To this was owing the per- 
 sonal jealousy and rivalship which subsisted between 
 the two monarchs during their whole reign; and the 
 rancour of these, augmented by a real opposition of 
 interest, which gave rise to many unavoidable causes of 
 discord, involved them in almost perpetual hostilities. 
 Charles had paid no regard to the principal article in 
 the treaty of Noyon, by refusing oftener than once to 
 do justice to John d'Albret, the excluded monarch of 
 Navarre, whom Francis was bound in honour, and 
 prompted by interest, to restore to his throne. The 
 French king had pretensions to the crown of Naples, 
 of which Ferdinand had deprived his predecessor by 
 a most unjustifiable breach of faith. The emperor 
 might reclaim the dutchy of Milan as a fief of the em- 
 pire, which Francis had seized, and still kept in pos- 
 session, without having received investiture of it from 
 the emperor. Charles considered the dutchy of Bur- 
 gundy as the patrimonial domain of his ancestors, 
 wrested from them by the unjust policy of Louis the 
 eleventh, and observed with the greatest jealousy the 
 strict connexions which Francis had formed with the 
 duke of Gueldres, the hereditary enemy of his family. 
 Their deli- When the sources of discord were so many and 
 berations various, peace could be of no long continuance, even 
 
 previous to , . . 
 
 the com- between princes the most exempt from ambition or 
 mencement emulation. But as the shock between two such mighty 
 
 of hostih- c 
 
 ties. antagonists could not fail of being extremely violent, 
 
 they both discovered no small solicitude about its con- 
 sequences, and took time not only to collect and to pon- 
 der their own strength, and to compare it with that of
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 241 
 
 their adversary, but to secure the friendship or assist- 1520. 
 ance of the other European powers. 
 
 The pope had equal reason to dread the two rivals, They ne- 
 and saw that he who prevailed, would become absolute s - t t 1 ^ 
 master in Italy. If it had been in his power to engage pope ; 
 them in hostilities, without rendering Lombardy the 
 theatre of war, nothing would have been more agree- 
 able to him than to see them waste each other's strength 
 in endless quarrels. But this was impossible. Leo 
 foresaw, that, on the first rupture between the two 
 monarchs, the armies of France and Spain would take 
 the field in the Milanese ; and while the scene of their 
 operations was so near, and the subject for which they 
 contended so interesting to him, he could not long 
 remain neuter. He was obliged, therefore, to adapt 
 his plan of conduct to his political situation. He 
 courted and soothed the emperor and king of France 
 with equal industry and address. Though warmly 
 solicited by each of them to espouse his cause, he as- 
 sumed all the appearances of entire impartiality, and 
 attempted to conceal his real sentiments under that 
 profound dissimulation which seems to have been af- 
 fected by most of the Italian politicians in that age. 
 
 The views and interest of the Venetians were not with the 
 different from those of the pope ; nor were they less 
 solicitous to prevent Italy from becoming the seat of 
 war, and their own republic from being involved in the 
 quarrel. But through all Leo's artifices, and notwith- 
 standing his high pretensions to a perfect neutrality, it 
 was visible that he leaned towards the emperor, from 
 whom he had both more to fear and more to hope than 
 from Francis ; and it was equally manifest, that if it 
 became necessary to take a side, the Venetians would, 
 from motives of the same nature, declare for the king 
 of France. No considerable assistance, however, was 
 to be expected from the Italian states, who were jea- 
 lous to an extreme degree of the Transalpine powers, 
 and careful to preserve the balance even between them, 
 
 VOL. III. R
 
 242 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK ii. 
 
 1620. 
 
 with Henry 
 the eighth. 
 
 The great 
 power of 
 that mo- 
 narch. 
 
 Character 
 of Henry, 
 
 1513. 
 
 unless when they were seduced to violate this favourite 
 maxim of their policy, by the certain prospect of some 
 great advantage to themselves. 
 
 But the chief attention both of Charles and of Fran- 
 cis, was employed in order to gain the king of Eng- 
 land, from whom each of them expected assistance 
 more effectual, and afforded with less political caution. 
 Henry the eighth had ascended the throne of that 
 kingdom in the year one thousand five hundred and 
 nine, with such circumstances of advantage as promised 
 a reign of distinguished felicity and splendour. The 
 union in his person of the two contending titles of 
 York and Lancaster; the alacrity and emulation with 
 which both factions obeyed his commands, not only en- 
 abled him to exert a degree of vigour and authority in 
 his domestic government which none of his predecessors 
 could have safely assumed ; but permitted him to take 
 a share in the affairs of the continent, from which the 
 attention of the English had long been diverted by their 
 unhappy intestine divisions. The great sums of money 
 which his father had amassed, rendered him the most 
 wealthy prince in Europe. The peace which had sub- 
 sisted under the cautious administration of that mo- 
 narch, had been of sufficient length to recruit the 
 population of the kingdom after the desolation of the 
 civil wars, but not so long as to enervate its spirit ; and 
 the English, ashamed of having rendered their own 
 country so long a scene of discord and bloodshed, were 
 eager to display their valour in some foreign war, and 
 to revive the memory of the victories gained on the 
 continent by their ancestors. Henry's own temper 
 perfectly suited the state of his kingdom, and the dis- 
 position of his subjects. Ambitious, active, enterprising, 
 and accomplished in all the martial exercises which in 
 that age formed a chief part in the education of persons 
 of noble birth, and inspired them with an early love of 
 war, he longed to engage in action, and to signalize the 
 beginning of his reign by some remarkable exploit. An
 
 BOOK ir. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 243 
 
 opportunity soon presented itself; and the victory at 1520. 
 Guinegate, together with the successful sieges of Te- ~ 
 rouenne and Tournay, though of little utility to Eng- 
 land, reflected great lustre on its monarch, and con- 
 firmed the idea which foreign princes entertained of his 
 power and consequence. So many concurring causes, 
 added to the happy situation of his own dominions, 
 which secured them from foreign invasion ; and to the 
 fortunate circumstance of his being in possession of 
 Calais, which served not only as a key to France, but 
 opened an easy passage into the Netherlands, rendered 
 the king of England the natural guardian of the liber- 
 ties of Europe, and the arbiter between the emperor 
 and French monarch. Henry himself was sensible of 
 this singular advantage, and convinced, that, in order 
 to preserve the balance even, it was his office to pre- 
 vent either of the rivals from acquiring such superiority 
 of power as might be fatal to the other, or formidable 
 to the rest of Christendom. But he was destitute of the 
 penetration, and still more of the temper, which such 
 a delicate function required. Influenced by caprice, 
 by vanity, by resentment, by affection, he was incapable 
 of forming any regular and extensive system of policy, 
 or of adhering to it with steadiness. His measures sel- 
 dom resulted from attention to the general welfare, or 
 from a deliberate regard to his own interest, but were 
 dictated by passions which rendered him blind to both, 
 and prevented his gaining that ascendant in the affairs 
 of Europe, or from reaping such advantages to himself, 
 as a prince of greater art, though with inferior talents, 
 might have easily secured. 
 
 All the impolitic steps in Henry's administration must 
 not, however, be imputed to defects in his own cha- 
 racter ; many of them were owing to the violent pas- 
 sions and insatiable ambition of his prime minister and 
 favourite, cardinal Wolsey. This man, from one of and of his 
 the lowest ranks in life, had risen to an height of power 
 and dignity, to which no English subject ever arrived ;
 
 244- THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. and governed the haughty, presumptuous, and un- 
 
 tractable spirit of Henry with absolute authority. 
 
 Great talents, and of very different kinds, fitted him for 
 the two opposite stations of minister, and of favourite. 
 His profound judgment, his unwearied industry, his 
 thorough acquaintance with the state of the kingdom, 
 his extensive knowledge of the views and interest of 
 foreign courts, qualified him for that uncontrolled di- 
 rection of affairs with which he was intrusted. The 
 elegance of his manners, the gaiety of his conversation, 
 his insinuating address, his love of magnificence, and 
 his proficiency in those parts of literature of which 
 Henry was fond, gained him the affection and con- 
 fidence of the young monarch. Wolsey was far from 
 employing this vast and almost royal power, to promote 
 either the true interest of the nation, or the real gran- 
 deur of his master. Rapacious at the same time, and 
 profuse, he was insatiable in desiring wealth. Of 
 boundless ambition, he aspired after new honours with 
 an eagerness unabated by his former success; and 
 being rendered presumptuous by his uncommon eleva- 
 tion, as well as by the ascendant which he had gained 
 over a prince, who scarcely brooked advice from any 
 other person, he discovered in his whole demeanour the 
 most overbearing haughtiness and pride. To these 
 passions he himself sacrificed every consideration ; and 
 whoever endeavoured to obtain his favour, or that of his 
 master, found it necessary to sooth and to gratify them. 
 The court As all the states of Europe sought Henry's friend- 
 vVolseyby S ^P at ^at tmie > au< courted his minister with in- 
 Fraacis, credible attention and obsequiousness, and strove by 
 presents, by promises, or by flattery, to work upon his 
 avarice, his ambition, or his pride b . Francis had, in 
 the year one thousand five hundred and eighteen, em- 
 ployed Bonnivet, admiral of France, one of his most 
 accomplished and artful courtiers, to gain this haughty 
 
 b Fiddcs's Life of Wolsey, 166. Rymer's Fcedera, xiii. 718.
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 
 
 prelate. He himself bestowed on him every mark of 1520. 
 respect and confidence. He consulted him with regard ~ 
 to his most important affairs, and received his responses 
 with implicit deference. By these arts, together with 
 the grant of a large pension, Francis attached the car- 
 dinal to his interest, who persuaded his master to sur- 
 render Tournay to France, to conclude a treaty of 
 marriage between his daughter the princess Mary and 
 the dauphin, and to consent to a personal interview 
 with the French king c . From that time, the most 
 familiar intercourse subsisted between the two courts ; 
 Francis, sensible of the great value of Wolsey's friend- 
 ship, laboured to secure the continuance of it by every 
 possible expression of regard, bestowing on him, in all 
 his letters, the honourable appellations of father, tutor, 
 and governor. 
 
 Charles observed the progress of this union with the and by 
 utmost jealousy and concern. His near affinity to the 
 king of England gave him some title to his friendship ; 
 and soon after his accession to the throne of Castile, he 
 had attempted to ingratiate himself with Wolsey, by set- 
 tling on him a pension of three thousand livres. His chief 
 solicitude at present was to prevent the intended inter- 
 view with Francis, the effects of which upon two young 
 princes, whose hearts were no less susceptible of friend- 
 ship, than their manners were capable of inspiring it, 
 he extremely dreaded. But after many delays, occa- 
 sioned by difficulties with respect to the ceremonial, 
 and by the anxious precautions of .both courts for the 
 safety of their respective sovereigns, the time and 
 place of meeting were at last fixed. Messengers had 
 been sent to different courts, inviting all comers, who 
 were gentlemen, to enter the lists at tilt and tourna- 
 ment, against the two monarchs and their knights. 
 Both Francis and Henry loved the splendour of these 
 spectacles too well, and were too much delighted with 
 
 c Herbert's Hist, of Henry the Eighth, 30. Rymer, xiii. 624.
 
 24<3 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 1620. 
 
 Charles 
 
 land 8 Dg 
 May 26. 
 
 Insrinuates 
 
 both with 
 the king 
 and Wol- 
 *ey. 
 
 the graceful figure which they made on such occasions, 
 to forego the pleasure or glory which they expected 
 from such a singular and brilliant assembly. Nor was 
 the cardinal less fond of displaying his own magni- 
 ficence in the presence of two courts, and of discover- 
 ing to the two nations the extent of his influence over 
 both their monarchs. Charles, finding it impossible to 
 prevent the interview, endeavoured to disappoint its 
 effects, and to preoccupy the favour of the English 
 monarch and his minister by an act of complaisance still 
 more flattering and more uncommon. Having sailed 
 from Corunna, as has already been related, he steered 
 his course directly towards England, and, relying 
 wholly on Henry's generosity for his own safety, landed 
 at Dover. This unexpected visit surprised the nation. 
 Wolsey, however, was well acquainted with the em- 
 peror's intention. A negotiation, unknown to the his- 
 torians of that age, had been carried on between him 
 and the court of Spain ; this visit had been concerted ; 
 and Charles granted the cardinal, whom he calls his 
 ' most dear friend,' an additional pension of seven 
 thousand ducats d . Henry, who was then at Canter- 
 bury, in his way to France, immediately despatched 
 Wolsey to Dover, in order to welcome the emperor; 
 and, being highly pleased with an event so soothing to 
 his vanity, hastened to receive, with suitable respect, a 
 guest who had placed in him such unbounded confi- 
 dence. Charles, to whom time was precious, staid only 
 * ur ^ a y s m England ; but, during that short space, he 
 
 had the address not only to give Henry favourable im- 
 
 ., . . J . J 
 
 pressions of his character and intentions, but to detach 
 
 Wolsey entirely from the interest of the French kirtg. 
 All the grandeur, the wealth, and the power, which the 
 cardinal possessed, did not satisfy his ambitious mind, 
 while there was one step higher to which an ecclesiastic 
 could ascend. The papal dignity had for some time 
 
 d Rymer, xiii. 714.
 
 BOOK ir. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 247 
 
 been the object of his wishes, and Francis, as the most 1520. 
 effectual method of securing his friendship, had pro- ~ 
 mised to favour his pretensions, on the first vacancy, 
 with all his interest. But as the emperor's influence 
 in the college of cardinals was greatly superior to that 
 of the French king, Wolsey grasped eagerly at the 
 offer which that artful prince had made him, of ex- 
 erting it vigorously in his behalf; and allured by this 
 prospect, which, under the pontificate of Leo, still in 
 the prime of his life, was a very distant one, he entered 
 with warmth into all the emperor's schemes. No treaty, 
 however, was concluded at that time between the two 
 monarchs ; but Henry, in return for the honour which 
 Charles had done him, promised to visit him in some 
 place of the Low Countries, immediately after taking 
 leave of the French king. 
 
 His interview with that prince was in an open plain June 7th. 
 between Guisnes and Ardres, where the two kings and 
 
 their attendants displayed their magnificence with such Henry and 
 emulation, and profuse expense, as procured it the 
 name of the ' field of the cloth of gold.' Feats of 
 chivalry, parties of gallantry, together with such exer- 
 cises and pastimes as were in that age reckoned manly 
 or elegant, rather than serious business, occupied both 
 courts during eighteen days that they continued toge- 
 ther". Whatever impression the engaging manners of 
 
 e The French and English historians describe the pomp of this interview, 
 and the various spectacles, with great minuteness. One circumstance men- 
 tioned by the marschal de Fleuranges, who was present, and which must 
 appear singular in the present age, is commonly omitted. " After the tour- 
 nament," says he, " the French and English wrestlers made their appear- 
 ance, and wrestled in presence of the kings, and the ladies; and as 
 thef e were many stout wrestlers there, it afforded excellent pastime ; but 
 as the king of France had neglected to bring any wrestlers out of Bretagne, 
 the English gained the prize. - After this, the kings of France and Eng- 
 land retired to a tent, where they drank together, and the king of England, 
 seizing the king of France by the collar, said ' My brother, 1 must wrestle 
 with you,' and endeavoured once or twice to trip up his heels ; but the 
 king of France, who is a dexterous wrestler, twisted him round, and threw 
 him on the earth with prodigious violence. TJie king of England wanted
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. Francis, or the liberal and unsuspicious confidence with 
 ~ which he treated Henry, made on the mind of that 
 
 monarch, was soon effaced by Wolsey's artifices, or by 
 
 an interview he had with the emperor at Gravelines ; 
 July 10. which was conducted with less pomp than that near 
 
 Guisnes, but with greater attention to what might be 
 
 of political utility. 
 
 Henry's This assiduity, with which the two greatest monarchs 
 
 ideas of his E urope pa id court to Henry, appeared to him a 
 own import- ' iii-i-ii-i i 
 
 ance. plain acknowledgment that he held the balance in his 
 
 hands, and convinced him of the justness of the motto 
 which he had chosen, ' That whoever he favoured 
 would prevail.' In this opinion he was confirmed by 
 an offer which Charles made, of submitting any differ- 
 ence that might arise between him and Francis to his 
 sole arbitration. Nothing could have the appearance 
 of greater candour and moderation, than the choice of 
 a judge who was reckoned the common friend of both. 
 But as the emperor had now attached Wolsey entirely 
 to his interest, no proposal could be more insidious, 
 nor, as appeared by the sequel, more fatal to the French 
 king f . 
 
 Coronation Charles, notwithstanding his partial fondness for the 
 * Netherlands, the place of his nativity, made no long 
 stay there ; and, after receiving the homage and con- 
 gratulations of his countrymen, hastened to Aix-la-Cha- 
 pelle, the place appointed by the golden bull for the 
 
 Oct. 23. coronation of the emperor. There, in presence of an 
 assembly more numerous and splendid than had ap- 
 peared on any former occasion, the crown of Charle- 
 magne was placed on his head, with all the pompous 
 solemnity which the Germans affect in their public 
 ceremonies, and which they deem essential to the dig- 
 nity of their empire g . 
 
 to renew the combat, but was prevented." Memoires de Fleuranges, 12mo. 
 Paris, 1753, p. 329. f Herbert, 37. 
 
 s Hartman. Mauri Relatio Coronat. Car. V. ap. Goldast. Polit. Im- 
 perial. Franc. 1614, fol. p. 264.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 
 
 Almost at the same time Solyman the magnificent, 1520. 
 one of the most accomplished, enterprising, and victo- ^ mant h e 
 rious of the Turkish sultans, a constant and formidable magnificent 
 rival to the emperor, ascended the Ottoman throne. Ottoman 
 It was the peculiar glory of that period to produce the t hr <>ne. 
 most illustrious monarchs, who have at any one time 
 appeared in Europe. Leo, Charles, Francis, Henry, 
 and Solyman, were each of them possessed of talents 
 which might have rendered any age, wherein they hap- 
 pened to flourish, conspicuous. But such a constella- 
 tion of great princes shed uncommon lustre on the 
 sixteenth century. In every contest, great power as 
 well as great abilities were set in opposition; the ef- 
 forts of valour and conduct on one side, counterba- 
 lanced by an equal exertion of the same qualities on 
 the other, not only occasioned such a variety of events 
 as renders the history of that period interesting, but 
 served to check the exorbitant progress of any of those 
 princes, and to prevent their attaining such preemi- 
 nence in power as would have been fatal to the liberty 
 and happiness of mankind. 
 
 The first act of the emperor's administration was to Diet called 
 appoint a diet of the empire to be held at Worms on \y^g at 
 the sixth of January, one thousand five hundred and 
 twenty-one. In his circular letters to the different 
 princes, he informed them that he had called this as- 
 sembly in order to concert with them the most proper 
 measures for checking the progress of those new and 
 dangerous opinions, which threatened to disturb the 
 peace of Germany, and to overturn the religion of their 
 ancestors. 
 
 Charles had in view the opinions which had been Rise of the 
 propagated by Luther and his disciples since the year re ormaUon J 
 one thousand five hundred and seventeen. As these 
 led to that happy reformation in religion which rescued 
 one part of Europe from the papal yoke, mitigated its 
 rigour in the other, and produced a revolution in the 
 sentiments of mankind, the greatest, as well as the most
 
 250 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK ir. 
 
 1520. beneficial, that has happened since the publication of 
 T Christianity, not only the events which at first gave 
 birth to such opinions, but the causes which rendered 
 their progress so rapid and successful, deserve to be 
 considered with minute attention. 
 
 To overturn a system of religious belief, founded 
 on ancient and deep-rooted prejudices, supported by 
 power, and defended with no less art than industry ; to 
 establish in its room doctrines of the most contrary ge- 
 nius and tendency ; and to accomplish all this, not by 
 external violence or the force of arms, are operations 
 which historians, the least prone to credulity and su- 
 perstition, ascribe to that divine providence, which, 
 with infinite ease, can bring about events which to hu- 
 man sagacity appear impossible. The interposition of 
 heaven in favour .of the Christian religion, at its first 
 publication, was manifested by miracles and prophecies 
 wrought and uttered in confirmation of it. Though 
 none of the reformers possessed, or pretended to pos- 
 sess, these supernatural gifts ; yet that wonderful pre- 
 paration of circumstances, which disposed the minds of 
 men for receiving their doctrines ; that singular com- 
 bination of causes, which secured their success, and 
 enabled men destitute of power and of policy to triumph 
 over those who employed against them extraordinary 
 efforts of both, may be considered as no slight proof, 
 that the same hand which planted the Christian reli- 
 gion, protected the reformed faith, and reared it from 
 beginnings extremely feeble, to an amazing degree of 
 vigour and maturity, 
 from incon- It was from causes seemingly fortuitous, and from a 
 source verv inconsiderable, that all the mighty effects 
 of the reformation flowed. Leo the tenth, when raised 
 to the papal throne, found the revenues of the church 
 exhausted by the vast projects of his two ambitious 
 predecessors, Alexander the sixth and Julius the se- 
 cond. His own temper, naturally liberal and enter- 
 prising, rendered him incapable of that severe and
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 251 
 
 patient economy which the situation of his finances 1520. 
 required. On the contrary, his schemes for aggrandiz- ~~ 
 ing the family of Medici, his love of splendour, his taste 
 for pleasure, and his magnificence in rewarding men of 
 genius, involved him daily in new expenses ; in order 
 to provide a fund for which, he tried every device, that 
 the fertile invention of priests had fallen upon, to drain 
 the credulous multitude of their wealth. Among others, 
 he had recourse to a sale of indulgences.' According A sale of in- 
 to the doctrine of the Romish church, all the good pu^fshed 5 
 works of the saints, over and above those which were b y L* 50 tne 
 necessary towards their own justification, are deposited, 
 together with the infinite merits of Jesus Christ, in one 
 inexhaustible treasury. The keys of this were com- 
 mitted to St. Peter, and to his successors the popes, 
 who may open it at pleasure, and, by transferring a 
 portion of this superabundant merit to any particular 
 person for a sum of money, may convey to him either 
 the pardon of his own sins, or a release for any one in 
 whose happiness he is interested, from the pains of 
 purgatory. Such indulgences were first invented in 
 the eleventh century by Urban the second, as a recom- 
 pense for those who went in person upon t\\e meritori- 
 ous enterprise of conquering the Holy Land. They 
 were afterwards granted to those who hired a soldier 
 for that purpose ; and in process of time were bestowed 
 on such as gave money for accomplishing any pious 
 work enjoined by the pope h . Julius the second had 
 bestowed indulgences on all who contributed towards 
 building the church of St. Peter at Rome; and as Leo 
 was carrying on that magnificent and expensive fabric, 
 his grant was founded on the same pretence '. 
 
 The right of promulgating these indulgences in Ger- 
 many, together with a share in the profits arising from 
 the sale of them, was granted to Albert, elector of 
 
 h History of the Council of Trent, by F. Paul, p. 4. 
 1 I'alavic. Hut. Cone. Trident, p. 4.
 
 252 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 1520. Metz and archbishop of Magdeburg, who, as his chief 
 , agent for retailing them in Saxony, employed Tetzel, a 
 ed as to give dominican friar, of licentious morals, but of an active 
 spirit, and remarkable for his noisy and popular elo- 
 quence. He, assisted by the monks of his order, exe- 
 cuted the commission with great zeal and success, but 
 with little discretion or decency ; and though, by mag- 
 nifying excessively the benefit of their indulgences' 1 , 
 
 k As the form of these indulgences, and the benefits which they were 
 supposed to convey, are unknown in protestant countries, and little under- 
 stood, at present, in several places where the Roman catholic religion is 
 established, I have, for the information of my readers, translated the form 
 of absolution used by Tetzel : " May our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy 
 upon thee, and absolve thee by the merits of his most holy passion. And 
 I, by his authority, that of his blessed apostles Peter and Paul, and of the 
 most holy pope, granted and committed to me in these parts, do absolve 
 thee, first from all ecclesiastical censures, in whatever manner they have 
 been incurred, and then from all thy sins, transgressions, and excesses, how 
 enormous soever they may be, even from such as are reserved for the cog- 
 nizance of the holy see ; and as far as the keys of the holy church extend, 
 I remit to you all punishment which you deserve in purgatory on their ac- 
 count ; and I restore you to the holy sacraments of the church, to the unity 
 of the faithful, and to that innocence and purity which you possessed at 
 baptism ; so that, when you die, the gates of punishment shall be shut, and 
 the gates of the paradise of delight shall be opened ; and if you shall not 
 die at present, this grace shall remain in full force when you are at the 
 point of death. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
 Ghost." Seckend. Comment, lib. i. p. 14. 
 
 The terms in which Tetzel and his associates described the benefits of in- 
 dulgences, and the necessity of purchasing them, are so extravagant, that 
 they appear to be almost incredible. If any man, said they, purchase let- 
 ters of indulgence, his soul may rest secure with respect to its salvation. 
 The souls confined in purgatory, for whose redemption indulgences are 
 purchased, as soon as the money tinkles in the chest, instantly escape from 
 that place of torment, and ascend into heaven. That the efficacy of indul- 
 gences was so great, that the most heinous sins, even if one should violate, 
 which was impossible, the mother of God, would be remitted and expiated 
 by them, and the person be freed both from punishment and guilt. That 
 this was the unspeakable gift of God, in order to reconcile men to himself. 
 That the cross erected by the preachers of indulgences was as efficacious 
 as the cross of Christ itself. Lo! the heavens are open; if you enter not 
 now, when will you enter 1 For twelve pence you may redeem the soul of 
 your father out of purgatory ; and are you so ungrateful, that you will not 
 rescue your parent from torment ? If you had but one coat, you ought to 
 strip yourself instantly, and sell it, in order to purchase such benefits, etc.
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 253 
 
 and by disposing of them at a very low price, they car- 1520. 
 ried on, for some time, an extensive and lucrative traffic 
 among the credulous and the ignorant; the extrava- 
 gance of their assertions, as well as the irregularities in 
 their conduct, came at last to give general offence. 
 The princes and nobles were irritated at seeing their 
 vassals drained of so much wealth, in order to replenish 
 the treasury of a profuse pontiff. Men of piety re- 
 gretted the delusion of the people, who, being taught 
 to rely for the pardon of their sins on the indulgences 
 which they purchased, did not think it incumbent on 
 them either to study the doctrines taught by genuine 
 Christianity, or to practise the duties which it enjoins. 
 Even the most unthinking were shocked at the scan- 
 dalous behaviour of Tetzel and his associates, who 
 often squandered in drunkenness, gaming, and low de- 
 bauchery, those sums which were piously bestowed in 
 hopes of obtaining eternal happiness ; and all began to 
 wish that some check were given to this commerce, no 
 less detrimental to society than destructive to religion. 
 
 Such was the favourable juncture, and so disposed First ap- 
 were the minds of his countrymen to listen to his dis- J^^an 
 courses, when Martin Luther first began to call in his charac- 
 question the efficacy of indulgences, and to declaim 
 against the vitious lives and false doctrines of the per- 
 sons employed in promulgating them. Luther was a 
 native of Eisleben in Saxony, and, though born of poor 
 parents, had received a learned education, during the 
 progress of which he gave many indications of uncom- 
 mon vigour and acuteness of genius. His mind was 
 naturally susceptible of serious sentiments, and tinc- 
 tured with somewhat of that religious melancholy which 
 delights in the solitude and devotion of a monastic life. 
 
 These, and many such extravagant expressions, are selected out of Luther's 
 works by Chemnitius in his Examen Concilii Tridentini, apud Herm. Von 
 der Hardt. Hist. Liter. Reform, pars iv. p. 6. The same author has pub- 
 lished several of Tetzel's discourses, which prove that these expressions 
 were neither singular nor exaggerated. Ibid. p. 14.
 
 254 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 1520. The death of a companion killed by lightning at his 
 ~ side in a violent thunderstorm, made such an impres- 
 sion on his mind, as cooperated with his natural temper, 
 in inducing him to retire into a convent of augustinian 
 friars, where, without suffering the entreaties of his 
 parents to divert him from what he thought his duty 
 to God, he assumed the habit of that order. He soon 
 acquired great reputation, not only for piety, but for 
 his love of knowledge, and his unwearied application 
 to study. He had been taught the scholastic philo- 
 sophy and theology, which were then in vogue, by very 
 able masters, and wanted not penetration to compre- 
 hend all the niceties and distinctions with which they 
 abound; but his understanding, naturally sound, and 
 superior to every thing frivolous, soon became dis- 
 gusted with those subtile and uninstructive sciences, 
 and sought for some more solid foundation of know- 
 ledge and of piety in the holy scriptures. Having 
 found a copy of the bible, which lay neglected in the 
 library of his monastery, he abandoned all other pur- 
 suits, and devoted himself to the study of it, with such 
 eagerness and assiduity, as astonished the monks, who 
 were little accustomed to derive their theological no- 
 tions from that source. The great progress which he 
 made in this uncommon course of study, augmented so 
 much the fame both of his sanctity and of his learning, 
 that Frederic, elector of Saxony, having founded an 
 university at Wittemberg on the Elbe, the place of his 
 residence, Luther was chosen first to teach philosophy, 
 and afterwards theology there ; and discharged both 
 offices in such a manner, that he was deemed the chief 
 ornament of that society. 
 He opposes While Luther was at the height of his reputation 
 
 6 anc ^ authority, Tetzel began to publish indulgences in 
 
 gences. the neighbourhood of Wittemberg, and to ascribe to 
 them the same imaginary virtues, which had, in other 
 places, imposed on the credulity of the people. As 
 Saxony was not more enlightened than the other pro-
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 255 
 
 vinces of Germany, Tetzel met with prodigious success 1520. 
 there. It was with the utmost concern, that Luther ~~ 
 beheld the artifices of those who sold, and the sim- 
 plicity of those who bought, indulgences. The opi- 
 nions of Thomas Aquinas and the other schoolmen, on 
 which the doctrine of indulgences was founded, had 
 already lost much of their authority with him ; and the 
 scriptures, which he began to consider as the great 
 standard of theological truth, afforded no countenance 
 to a practice, equally subversive of faith and of morals. 
 His warm and impetuous temper did not suffer him 
 long to conceal such important discoveries, or to con- 
 tinue a silent spectator of the delusion of his country- 
 men. From the pulpit, in the great church of Wit- 
 temberg, he inveighed bitterly against the irregularities 
 and vices of the monks who published indulgences ; he 
 ventured to examine the doctrines which they taught, 
 and pointed out to the people the danger of relying 
 for salvation upon any other means than those ap- 
 pointed by God in his word. The boldness and no- 
 velty of these opinions drew great attention ; and being 
 recommended by the authority of Luther's personal 
 character, and delivered with a popular and persuasive 
 eloquence, they made a deep impression on his hearers. 
 Encouraged by the favourable reception of his doc- 
 trines among the people, he wrote to Albert, elector of 
 Metz and archbishop of Magdeburg, to whose juris- 
 diction that part of Saxony was subject, and remon- 
 strated warmly against the false opinions, as well as 
 wicked lives, of the preachers of indulgences ; but he 
 found that prelate too deeply interested in their suc- 
 cess to correct their abuses. His next attempt was to 
 gain the suffrage of men of learning. For this purpose He pub- 
 he published ninety-five theses, containing his send- " 
 
 ments with regard to indulgences. These he proposed 
 not as points fully established, or of undoubted cer- 
 tainty, but as subjects of inquiry and disputation ; he 
 appointed a day, on which the learned were invited to
 
 250 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. 
 
 Supported 
 by his own 
 order. 
 
 Many en- 
 deavour to 
 confute 
 him. 
 
 impugn them, either in person or by writing; to the 
 whole he subjoined solemn protestations of the high 
 respect for the apostolic see, and of his implicit sub- 
 mission to its authority. No opponent appeared at 
 the time prefixed; the theses spread over Germany 
 with astonishing rapidity ; they were read with the 
 greatest eagerness ; and all admired the boldness of 
 the man, who had ventured not only to call in question 
 the plenitude of papal power, but to attack the domi- 
 nicans, armed with all the terrours of inquisitorial au- 
 thority l . 
 
 The friars of St. Augustine, Luther's own order, 
 though addicted with no less obsequiousness than the 
 other monastic fraternities to the papal see, gave no 
 check to the publication of these uncommon opinions. 
 Luther had, by his piety and learning, acquired extra- 
 ordinary authority among his brethren; he professed 
 the highest regard for the authority of the pope ; his 
 professions were at that time sincere ; and as a secret 
 enmity, excited by interest or emulation, subsists among 
 all the monastic orders in the Romish church, the 
 augustinians were highly pleased with his invectives 
 against the dominicans, and hoped to see them ex- 
 posed to the hatred and scorn of the people. Nor was 
 his sovereign, the elector of Saxony, the wisest prince 
 at that time in Germany, dissatisfied with this obstruc- 
 tion which Luther threw in the way of the publication 
 of indulgences. He secretly encouraged the attempt, 
 and flattered himself that this dispute among the ec- 
 clesiastics themselves, might give some check to the 
 exactions of the court of Rome, which the secular 
 princes had long, though without success, been endea- 
 vouring to oppose. 
 
 Many zealous champions immediately arose to de- 
 fend opinions on which the wealth and power of the 
 
 1 Lutheri Opera, Jense, 1612, vol. i. praefat. 3. p. 2. 66. Hist, of Counc. 
 of Trent by F. Paul, p. 4. Seckend. Com. Apol. p. 16.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 257 
 
 church were founded, against Luther's attacks. In !520. 
 opposition to his theses, Tetzel published counter- 
 theses at Francfort on 'the Oder ; Eccius, a celebrated 
 divine of Augsburg, endeavoured to refute Luther's 
 notions ; and Prierias, a dominican friar, master of the 
 sacred palace and inquisitor-general, wrote against him 
 with all the virulence of a scholastic disputant. But 
 the manner in which they conducted the controversy, 
 did little service to their cause. Luther attempted to 
 combat indulgences by arguments founded in reason, 
 or derived from scripture; they produced nothing in 
 support of them but the sentiments of schoolmen, the 
 conclusions of the canon law, and the decrees of 
 popes m . The decision of judges so partial and inter- 
 ested, did not satisfy the people, who began to call in 
 question the authority even of these venerable guides, 
 when they found them standing in direct opposition to 
 the dictates of reason, and the determinations of the 
 divine law n *. 
 
 F. Paul. p. 6. Seckend. p. 40. Palavic. p. 8. Seckend. p. 30. 
 
 * Guicciardini has asserted two things with regard to the first promulga- 
 tion of indulgences: 1. That Leo bestowed a gift of the profits arising from 
 the sale of indulgences in Saxony, and the adjacent provinces of Germany, 
 upon his sister Magdalen, the wife of Francescetto Cibo. Guic. lib. xiii. 168. 
 2. That Arcemboldo, a Genoese ecclesiastic, who had been bred a mer- 
 chant, and still retained all the activity and address of that profession, was 
 appointed by her to collect the money which should be raised. F. Paul 
 has followed him in both these particulars, and adds, that the augustinians 
 in Saxony had been immemorially employed in preaching indulgences ; but 
 that Arcemboldo and his deputies, hoping to gain more by committing this 
 trust to the dominicans, had made their bargain with Tetzel, and that Lu- 
 ther was prompted at first to oppose Tetzel and his associates, by a desire 
 of taking revenge for this injury offered to his order. F. Paul, p. 5. Almost 
 all historians since their time, popish as well as protestant, have, without 
 examination, admitted these assertions to be true upon their authority. But 
 notwithstanding the concurring testimony of two authors, so eminent both 
 for exactness and veracity, we may observe, 
 
 1. That Felix Contolori, who searched the pontifical archives for the 
 purpose, could not find this pretended grant to Leo's sister in any of those 
 registers where it must necessarily have been recorded. Palav. p. 5. 
 2. That the profits arising from indulgences in Saxony and the adjacent 
 countries, had been granted not to Magdalen, but to Albert, archbishop ( 
 
 VOL. III. s
 
 258 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK n. 
 
 1520. 
 
 The court 
 of Rome 
 at first dis- 
 regarded 
 Luthar. 
 
 .Meanwhile, these novelties in Luther's doctrines 
 which interested all Germany, excited little attention 
 and no alarm in the court of Rome. Leo, fond of ele- 
 gant and refined pleasures, intent upon great schemes 
 of policy, a stranger to theological controversies, and 
 apt to despise them, regarded with the utmost indiffer- 
 ence, the operations of an obscure friar, who, in the 
 heart of Germany, carried on a scholastic disputation 
 in a barbarous style. Little did he apprehend, or Lu- 
 ther himself dream, that the effects of this quarrel 
 would be so fatal to the papal see. Leo imputed the 
 whole to monastic enmity and emulation, and seemed 
 inclined not to interpose in the contest, but to allow 
 the augustinians and dominicans to wrangle about the 
 matter with their usual animosity. 
 
 The solicitations, however, of Luther's adversaries, 
 
 Mentz, who had the right of nominating those who published them. Seek, 
 p. 12. Luth. Oper. i. praef. p. i. Palav. p. 6. 3. That Arcemboldo never 
 had concern in the publication of indulgences in Saxony; his district was 
 Flanders and the Upper and Lower Rhine. Seek. p. 14. Palav. p. 6. 
 4. That Luther and his adherents never mentioned this grant of Leo's to 
 his sister, though a circumstance of which they could hardly have been 
 ignorant, and which they would have been careful not to suppress. 5. The 
 publication of indulgences in Germany was not usually committed to the 
 augustinians. The promulgation of them, at three different periods under 
 Julius the second, was granted to the franciscans ; the dominicans had 
 been employed in the same office a short time before the present period. 
 Palav. p. 46. 6. The promulgation of those indulgences, which first ex- 
 cited Luther's indignation, was intrusted to the archbishop of Mentz, in 
 conjunction with the guardian of the franciscans ; but the latter having 
 declined accepting of that trust, the sole right became vested in the arch- 
 bishop. Palav. 6. Seek. 16, 17. 7. Luther was not instigated by his su- 
 periors among the augustinians to attack the dominicans their rivals, or to 
 depreciate indulgences because they were promulgated by them ; his oppo- 
 sition to their opinions and vices proceeded from more laudable motives. 
 Seek. p. 15. 32. Lutheri Qpera, i. p. 64. 6. 8. A diploma of indulgences 
 is published by Herm. Von der Hardt, from which it appears, that the 
 name of the guardian of the franciscans is retained together with that of 
 the archbishop, although the former did not act. The limits of the country 
 to which their commissions extended, viz. the diocese of Mentz, Magdeburg, 
 Halberstadt, and the territories of the marquis of Brandenburg, are men- 
 tioned in that diploma. Hist. Literaria, Reformat, pars iv. p. 14.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 259 
 
 who were exasperated to an high degree by the bold- 1520. 
 ness and severity with which he animadverted on their Th e pro . 
 writings, together with the surprising progress which ress f 
 his opinions made in different parts of Germany, roused opinions 5 . 
 at last the attention of the court of Rome, and obliged 
 Leo to take measures for the security of the church 
 against an attack that now appeared too serious to be 
 despised. For this end, he summoned Luther to ap- He is sum- 
 pear at Rome, within sixty days, before the auditor of moned to 
 
 J J appear at 
 
 the chamber, and the inquisitor-general Prierias, who Rome. 
 
 had written against him, whom he empowered jointly y ' 
 to examine his doctrines, and to decide concerning 
 them. He wrote, at the same time, to the elector of 
 Saxony, beseeching him not to protect a man whose 
 heretical and profane tenets were so shocking to pious 
 ears ; and enjoined the provincial of the augustinians 
 to check, by his authority, the rashness of an arrogant 
 monk, which brought disgrace upon the order of St. 
 Augustine, and gave offence and disturbance to the 
 whole church. 
 
 From the strain of these letters, as well as from the The pope 
 nomination of a judge so prejudiced and partial as Pri- hi^gate 
 erias, Luther easily saw what sentence he might expect . to tr y n > m 
 at Rome. He discovered, for that reason, the utmost man y. 
 solicitude to have his cause tried in Germany, and be- 
 fore a less- suspected tribunal. The professors in the 
 university of Wittemberg, anxious for the safety of a 
 man who did so much honour to their society, wrote 
 to the pope ; and, after employing several pretexts to 
 excuse Luther from appearing at Rome, entreated Leo 
 to commit the examination of his doctrines to some 
 persons of learning and authority in Germany. The 
 elector requested the same thing of the pope's legate 
 at the diet of Augsburg ; and as Luther himself, who, 
 at that time, was so far from having any intention to 
 disclaim the papal authority, that he did not even 
 entertain the smallest suspicion concerning its divine 
 original, had written to Leo a most submissive letter,
 
 J>GO THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1620. promising an unreserved compliance with his will ; the 
 ~~ pope gratified them so far as to empower his legate in 
 Germany, cardinal Cajetan, a dominican, eminent for 
 scholastic learning, and passionately devoted to the 
 Roman see, to hear and determine the cause. 
 Luther Luther, though he had good reason to decline a 
 
 befortfthe J U( ^g e chosen among his avowed adversaries, did not 
 legate. hesitate about appearing before Cajetan ; and, having 
 obtained the emperor's safe-conduct, immediately re- 
 paired to Augsburg. The cardinal received him with 
 decent respect, and endeavoured at first to gain upon 
 him by gentle treatment. The cardinal, relying on 
 the superiority of his own talents as a theologian, en- 
 tered into a formal dispute with Luther concerning the 
 doctrines contained in his theses *. But the weapons 
 which they employed were so different, Cajetan ap- 
 pealing to papal decrees, and the opinions of school- 
 men, and Luther resting entirely on the authority of 
 scripture, that the contest was altogether fruitless. 
 The cardinal relinquished the character of a disputant, 
 and, assuming that of a judge, enjoined Luther, by 
 virtue of the apostolic powers with which he was cloth- 
 ed, to retract the errours which he had uttered with 
 regard to indulgences, and the nature of faith ; and to 
 abstain, for the future, from the publication of new 
 and dangerous opinions. Luther, fully persuaded of 
 the truth of his own tenets, and confirmed in the be- 
 lief of them by the approbation which they had met 
 with among persons conspicuous both for learning and 
 piety, was surprised at this abrupt mention of a re- 
 cantation, before any endeavours were used to convince 
 him that he was mistaken. He had flattered himself, 
 that, in a conference concerning the points in dispute 
 with a prelate of such distinguished abilities, he should 
 
 * In the former editions I asserted, upon the authority of father Paul, 
 that Cajetan thought it beneath his dignity to enter into any dispute with 
 Luther ; but M. Beausobre, in his Histoire de la Rt formation, vol. i. p. 121, 
 etc. has satisfied me tliat I was mistaken. See also Seckend. lib. i. p. 46, etc.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 261 
 
 be able to remove many of those imputations with 1520. 
 which the ignorance or malice of his antagonists had ~ 
 loaded him ; but the high tone of authority that the 
 cardinal assumed, extinguished at once all hopes of 
 this kind, and cut off every prospect of advantage 
 from the interview. His native intrepidity of mind, His Lntre- 
 however, did not desert him. He declared, with thePJ db ha- 
 utmost firmness, that he could not, with a safe con- 
 science, renounce opinions which he believed to be 
 true ; nor should any consideration ever induce him to 
 do what would be so base in itself, and so offensive 
 to God. At the same time, he continued to express 
 no less reverence than formerly for the authority of 
 the apostolic see ; he signified his willingness to sub- 
 mit the whole controversy to certain universities which 
 he named, and promised neither to write nor to preach 
 concerning indulgences for the future, provided his 
 adversaries were likewise enjoined to be silent with 
 respect to them p . All these offers Cajetan disregarded 
 or rejected, and still insisted peremptorily on a simple 
 recantation, threatening him with ecclesiastical cen- 
 sures, and forbidding him to appear again in his pre- 
 sence, unless he resolved instantly to comply with what 
 he had required. This haughty and violent manner 
 of proceeding, as well as other circumstances, gave 
 Luther's friends such strong reasons to suspect, that 
 even the imperial safe-conduct would not be able to 
 protect him from the legate's power and resentment, 
 that they prevailed on him to withdraw secretly from 
 Augsburg, and to return to his own country. But be- 
 fore his departure, according to a form of which there 
 had been some examples, he prepared a solemn appeal His appeal, 
 from the pope, ill-informed at that time concerning Oct> 18< 
 his cause, to the pope, when he should receive more 
 full information with respect to it q . 
 
 Luth. Oper. vol. i. p. 164. n Ibid. p. 160. 
 
 < Sltid. Hist, of Reform, p. 7. Seckend. p. 45. Luth. Oper. i. 163.
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK n. 
 
 1520. 
 
 He is sup- 
 ported by 
 the elector 
 of Saxony. 
 
 Motives of 
 the legate's 
 conduct. 
 
 Cajetan, enraged at Luther's abrupt retreat, and at 
 the publication of his appeal, wrote to the elector of 
 Saxony, complaining of both; and requiring him, as he 
 regarded the peace of the church, or the authority of 
 its head , either to send that seditious monk a prisoner 
 to Rome, or to banish him out of his territories. It 
 was not from theological considerations that Frederic 
 had hitherto countenanced Luther ; he seems to have 
 been much a stranger to controversies of that kind, and 
 to have been little interested in them. His protection 
 flowed almost entirely, as hath been already observed, 
 from political motives, and was afforded with great 
 secrecy and caution. He had neither heard any of 
 Luther's discourses, nor read any of his books ; and 
 though all Germany resounded with his fame, he had 
 never once admitted him into his presence r . But upon 
 this demand which the cardinal made, it became ne- 
 cessary to throw off somewhat of his former reserve. 
 He had been at great expense, and had bestowed much 
 attention, on founding a new university, an object of 
 considerable importance to every German prince ; and 
 foreseeing how fatal a blow the removal of Luther 
 would be to its reputation s , he, under various pretexts, 
 and with many professions of esteem for the cardinal, 
 as well as of reverence for the pope, not only declined 
 complying with either of his requests, but openly dis- 
 covered great concern for Luther's safety *. 
 
 The inflexible rigour with which Cajetan insisted on 
 a simple recantation, gave great offence to Luther's fol- 
 lowers in that age, and hath since been censured as 
 imprudent, by several popish writers. But it was im- 
 possible for the legate to act another part. The judges 
 before whom Luther had been required to appear at 
 Rome, were so eager to display their zeal against his 
 errours, that, without waiting for the expiration of sixty 
 
 r Seckend. p. 27. Sleid. Hist. p. 12. 
 Sleid. Hist. p. 10. Luth. Oper. i. 172. 
 
 Seckend. p. 59.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 2G3 
 
 days allowed him in the citation, they had already con- 1520. 
 demned him as an heretic ". Leo had, in several of his "" 
 briefs and letters, stigmatized him as a child of iniquity, 
 and a man given up to a reprobate sense. Nothing 
 less, therefore, than a recantation could save the honour 
 of the church, whose maxim it is, never to abandon 
 the smallest point that it has established, and which is 
 even precluded, by its pretensions to infallibility, from 
 having it in its power to do so. 
 
 Luther's situation, at this time, was such as would Luther's 
 have filled any other person with the most disquieting ^" a t^ s n 
 apprehensions. He could not expect that a prince so 
 prudent and cautious as Frederic, would, on his ac- 
 count, set at. defiance the thunders of the church, and 
 brave the papal power, which had crushed some of the 
 most powerful of the German emperors. He knew 
 what veneration was paid, in that age, to ecclesiastical 
 decisions; what terrours ecclesiastical censures carried 
 along with them ; and how easily these might intimidate 
 and shake a prince, who was rather his protector from 
 policy, than his disciple from conviction. If he should 
 be obliged to quit Saxony, he had no prospect of any 
 other asylum, and must stand exposed to whatever 
 punishment the rage or bigotry of his enemies could 
 inflict. Though sensible of his danger, he discovered 
 no symptoms of timidity or remissness, but continued 
 to vindicate his own conduct and opinions, and to in- 
 veigh against those of his adversaries with more vehe- 
 mence than ever \ 
 
 But as every step taken by the court of Rome, par- He appeals 
 ticularly the irregular sentence by which he had been council?* 
 so precipitately declared an heretic, convinced Luther 
 that Leo would soon proceed to the most violent mea- 
 sures against him, he had recourse to the only expe- 
 dient in his power, in order to prevent the effect of 
 the papal censures. He appealed to a general council, 
 
 " Luther. Oper. i. 161. * Seckend. p. 59.
 
 264 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 1520. which he affirmed to be the representative of the ca- 
 ~~ tholic church, and superior in power to the pope, who, 
 being a fallible man, might err, as St. Peter, the most 
 perfect of his predecessors, had erred y . 
 
 A new bull It soon appeared, that Luther had not formed rash 
 offnduiu conjectures concerning the intentions of the Romish 
 gences. church. A bull, of a date prior to his appeal, was 
 issued by the pope, in which he magnifies the virtue 
 and efficacy of indulgences, in terms as extravagant as 
 any of his predecessors had ventured to use in the 
 darkest ages; and, without applying such palliatives, 
 or mentioning such concessions, as a more enlightened 
 period, and the disposition in the minds of many men 
 at that juncture, seemed to call for, he required all 
 Christians to assent to what he delivered, as the doc- 
 trine of the catholic church, and subjected those who 
 should hold or teach any contrary opinion, to the 
 heaviest ecclesiastical censures. 
 
 Maximi- Among Luther's followers, this bull, which they con- 
 sidered as an unjustifiable effort of the pope, in order 
 
 tage to to preserve that rich branch of his revenue, which arose 
 from indulgences, produced little effect. But, among 
 the rest of his countrymen, such a clear decision of the 
 sovereign pontiff against him, and enforced by such 
 dreadful penalties, must have been attended with con- 
 
 Jan. 17, sequences very fatal to his cause ; if these had not been 
 prevented, in a great measure, by the death of the 
 emperor Maximilian, whom both his principles and his 
 interest prompted to support the authority of the holy 
 see. In consequence of this event, the vicariat of that 
 part of Germany which is governed by the Saxon laws, 
 devolved to the elector of Saxony ; and under the 
 shelter of his friendly administration, Luther not only 
 enjoyed tranquillity, but his opinions were suffered, 
 during the interregnum which preceded Charles's 
 election, to take root in different places, and to grow 
 
 y Sleid. Hist. 12. Luth. Oper. i. 179.
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 265 
 
 up to some degree of strength and firmness. At the 1520. 
 same time, as the election of an emperor was a point ~ 
 more interesting to Leo than a theological controversy, 
 which he did not understand, and of which he could 
 not foresee the consequences, he was so extremely so- 
 licitous not to irritate a prince of such considerable 
 influence in the electoral college as Frederic, that he 
 discovered a great unwillingness to pronounce the sen- 
 tence of excommunication against Luther, which his 
 adversaries continually demanded with the most cla- 
 morous importunity. 
 
 To these political views of the pope, as well as to his Suspension 
 natural aversion from severe measures, was owing the i 
 suspension of any farther proceedings against Luther Luther, 
 for eighteen months. Perpetual negotiations, however, 
 in order to bring the matter to some amicable issue, 
 were carried on during that space. The manner in 
 which these were conducted having given Luther many 
 opportunities of observing the corruption of the court 
 of Rome ; its obstinacy in adhering to established er- 
 rours ; and its indifference about truth, however clearly 
 proposed, or strongly proved, he began to utter some He begins 
 doubts with regard to the divine original of the papal question" 
 authority. A public disputation was held upon this * P a p al 
 
 -r . . . . authonty. 
 
 important question at Leipsic, between Luther and 
 Eccius, one of his most learned and formidable antago- 
 nists; but it was as fruitless and indecisive as such 
 scholastic combats usually prove. Both parties boasted 
 of having obtained the victory ; both were confirmed in 
 their own opinions ; and no progress was made towards 
 deciding the point in controversy *. 
 
 Nor did this spirit of opposition to the doctrines and Reforma- 
 usurpations of the Romish church break out in Saxony Swltzer- 
 alone ; an attack no less violent, and occasioned by the land - 
 same causes, was made upon them about this time in 
 Switzerland. The franciscans being intrusted with 
 
 * Luth. Oper. i. 199.
 
 260 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. the promulgation of indulgences in that country, exe- 
 cuted their commission with the same indiscretion and 
 rapaciousness, which had rendered the dominicans so 
 odious in Germany. They proceeded, nevertheless, 
 with uninterrupted success till they arrived at Zurich. 
 There Zuinglius, a man not inferior to Luther himself 
 jn zeal and intrepidity, ventured to oppose them ; and 
 being animated with a republican boldness, and free 
 from those restraints which subjection to the will of a 
 prince imposed on the German reformer, he advanced 
 with more daring and rapid steps to overturn the whole 
 fabric of the established religion a . The appearance 
 of such a vigorous auxiliary, and the progress which he 
 made, was, at first, matter of great joy to Luther. On 
 the other hand, the decrees of the universities of Co- 
 logne and Louvain, which pronounced his opinions to 
 be erroneous, afforded great cause of triumph to his 
 adversaries. 
 
 Luther's But the undaunted spirit of Luther acquired addi- 
 and pro- tional fortitude from every instance of opposition ; and 
 gress. pushing on his inquiries and attacks from one doctrine 
 to another, he began to shake the firmest foundations 
 on which the wealth or power of the church was esta- 
 blished. Leo came at last to be convinced, that all 
 hopes of reclaiming him by forbearance were vain ; 
 several prelates of great wisdom exclaimed, no less 
 than Luther's personal adversaries, against the pope's 
 unprecedented lenity in permitting an incorrigible he- 
 retic, who, during three years, had been endeavouring 
 to subvert every thing sacred and venerable, still to 
 remain within the bosom of the church ; the dignity of 
 the papal see rendered the most vigorous proceedings 
 necessary ; the new emperor, it was hoped, would sup- 
 port its authority; nor did it seem probable that the 
 elector of Saxony would so far forget his usual caution, 
 as to set himself in opposition to their united power. 
 
 8 Sleid. Hist. 22. Seckend. 59.
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 267 
 
 The college of cardinals was often assembled, in order 1520. 
 to prepare the sentence with due deliberation, and the ~ 
 ablest canonists were consulted how it might be ex- 
 pressed with unexceptionable formality. At last, on Bull of ex- 
 the fifteenth of June, one thousand five hundred and con ? muni ; 
 
 cation pub- 
 twenty, the bull so fatal to the church of Rome was Hshed 
 
 issued. Forty-one propositions, extracted out of Lu- ^ 
 ther's works, are therein condemned as heretical, scan- 
 dalous, and offensive to pious ears ; all persons are 
 forbidden to read his writings, upon pain of excom- 
 munication ; such as had any of them in their custody 
 were commanded to commit them to the flames; he 
 himself, if he did not within sixty days publicly recant 
 his errours, and burn his books, is pronounced an ob- 
 stinate heretic; is excommunicated, and delivered unto 
 Satan for the destruction of his flesh ; and all secular 
 princes are required, under pain of incurring the same 
 censure, to seize his person, that he might be punished 
 as his crimes deserved b . 
 
 The publication of this bull in Germany excited The effects 
 various passions in different places. Luther's adver- 
 
 saries exulted, as if his party and opinions had been 
 crushed at once by such a decisive blow. His fol- 
 lowers, whose reverence for the papal authority daily 
 diminished, read Leo's anathemas with more indigna- 
 tion than terrour. In some cities, the people violently 
 obstructed the promulgation of the bull ; in others, the 
 persons who attempted to publish it were insulted, and 
 the bull itself was torn in pieces, and trodden under 
 foof. 
 
 This sentence, which he had for some time expected, and upon 
 did not disconcert or intimidate Luther. After renew- 
 ing his appeal to the general council, he published re- 
 marks upon the bull of excommunication ; ami being 
 now persuaded that Leo had been guilty both of im- 
 piety and injustice in his proceedings against him, he 
 
 b Palavic. 27. Luth. Oper. i. 423. c Seckend. p. 1 16.
 
 268 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. boldly declared the pope to be that man of sin, or anti- 
 
 christ, whose appearance is foretold in the new testa- 
 ment ; he declaimed against his tyranny and usurpations 
 with greater violence than ever ; he exhorted all Chris- 
 tian princes to shake off such an ignominious yoke ; 
 and boasted of his own happiness in being marked out 
 as the object of ecclesiastical indignation, because he 
 had ventured to assert the liberty of mankind. Nor 
 did he confine his expressions of contempt for the 
 papal power to words alone : Leo having, in execution 
 of the bull, appointed Luther's books to be burnt at 
 Rome, he, by way of retaliation, assembled all the pro- 
 fessors and students in the university of Wittemberg, 
 and with great pomp, in presence of a vast multitude 
 of spectators, cast the volumes of the canon law, to- 
 gether with the bull of excommunication, into the 
 flames ; and his example was imitated in several cities 
 of Germany. The manner in which he justified this 
 action was still more offensive than the action itself. 
 Having collected from the canon law some of the most 
 extravagant propositions with regard to the plenitude 
 and omnipotence of the papal power, as well as the 
 subordination of all secular jurisdiction to the authority 
 of the holy see, he published these with a commentary ; 
 pointing out the impiety of such tenets, and their evi- 
 dent tendency to subvert all civil government d . 
 State of the Such was the progress which Luther had made, and 
 n such the state of his party, when Charles arrived in 
 Charles Germany. No secular prince had hitherto embraced 
 Germany. Luther's opinions ; no change in the established forms 
 of worship had been introduced ; and no encroach- 
 ments had been made upon the possessions or jurisdic- 
 tion of the clergy ; neither party had yet proceeded to 
 action ; and the controversy, though conducted with 
 great heat and passion on both sides, was still carried 
 on with its proper weapons, with theses, disputations, 
 
 * Luth. Oper. ii. 316.
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 269 
 
 and replies. A deep impression, however, was made 1520. 
 upon the minds of the people ; their reverence for ~ 
 ancient institutions and doctrines was shaken ; and the 
 materials were already scattered, which kindled into 
 the combustion that soon spread over all Germany. 
 Students crowded from every province of the empire 
 to Wittemberg; and under Luther himself, Melanc- 
 thon, Carlostadius, and other masters then reckoned 
 eminent, imbibed opinions which, on their return, they 
 propagated among their countrymen, who listened to 
 them with that fond attention which truth, when ac- 
 companied with novelty, naturally commands". 
 
 During the course of these transactions, the court of Reflec- 
 Rome, though under the direction of one of its ablest [j 
 pontiffs, neither formed its schemes with that profound of Rome; 
 sagacity, nor executed them with that steady perse- 
 verance, which had long rendered it the most perfect 
 model of political wisdom to the rest of Europe. When 
 Luther began to declaim against indulgences, two dif- 
 ferent methods of treating him lay before the pope ; by 
 adopting one of which, the attempt, it is probable, 
 might have been crushed, and by the other it might 
 have been rendered innocent. If Luther's first de- 
 parture from the doctrines of the church had instantly 
 drawn upon him the weight of its censures, the dread 
 of these might have restrained the elector of Saxony 
 from protecting him, might have deterred the people 
 from listening to his discourses, or even might have 
 overawed Luther himself; and his name, like that of 
 many good men before his time, would now have been 
 known to the world only for his honest but ill-timed 
 effort to correct the corruptions of the Romish church. 
 On the other hand, if the pope had early testified 
 some displeasure with the vices and excesses of the 
 friars who had been employed in publishing indul- 
 gences ; if he had forbidden the mentioning of contro- 
 
 ' Seckend. 59.
 
 270 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. verted points in discourses addressed to the people ; if 
 - he had. enjoined the disputants on both sides to be 
 silent ; if he had been careful not to risk the credit of 
 the church by defining articles which had hitherto 
 been left undetermined ; Luther would, probably, have 
 stopped short at his first discoveries; he would not 
 have been forced in self-defence to venture upon new 
 ground, and the whole controversy might possibly have 
 died away insensibly ; or, being confined entirely to 
 the schools, might have been carried on with as little 
 detriment to the peace and unity of the Romish church, 
 as that which the franciscans maintained with the do- 
 minicans concerning the immaculate conception, or 
 that between the jansenists and Jesuits concerning the 
 operations of grace. But Leo, by fluctuating between 
 these opposite systems, and by embracing them alter- 
 nately, defeated the effects of both. By an improper 
 exertion of authority, Luther was exasperated, but not 
 restrained. By a mistaken exercise of lenity, time was 
 given for his opinions to spread, but no progress was 
 made towards reconciling him to the church ; and 
 even the sentence of excommunication, which at an- 
 other juncture might have been decisive, was delayed 
 so long, that it became at last scarcely an object of 
 terrour. 
 
 and upon Such a series of errours in the measures of a court 
 se ld m chargeable with mistaking its own true interest, 
 is not more astonishing than the wisdom which ap- 
 peared in Luther's conduct. Though a perfect stran- 
 ger to the maxims of worldly wisdom, and incapable, 
 from the impetuosity of his temper, of observing them, 
 he was led naturally, by the method in which he made 
 his discoveries, to carry on his operations in a manner 
 which contributed more to their success, than if every 
 step he took had been prescribed by the most artful 
 policy. At the time when he set himself to oppose 
 Tetzel, he was far from intending that reformation 
 which he afterwards effected ; and would have trem-
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 
 
 bled with horrour at the thoughts of what at last he 1520. 
 gloried in accomplishing. The knowledge of truth ~~ 
 was not poured into his mind all at once, by any spe- 
 cial revelation ; he acquired it by industry and medita- 
 tion, and his progress, of consequence, was gradual. 
 The doctrines of popery are so closely connected, that 
 the exposing of one errour conducted him naturally to 
 the detection of others ; and all the parts of that artifi- 
 cial fabric were so united together, that the pulling 
 down of one loosened the foundation of the rest, and 
 rendered it more easy to overturn them. In confuting 
 the extravagant tenets concerning indulgences, he was 
 obliged to inquire into the true cause of our justifica- 
 tion and acceptance with God. The knowledge of 
 that discovered to him, by degrees, the inutility of pil- 
 grimages and penances ; the vanity of relying on the 
 intercession of saints; the impiety of worshipping 
 them ; the abuses of auricular confession ; and the ima- 
 ginary existence of purgatory. The detection of so 
 many errours, led him, of course, to consider the cha- 
 racter of the clergy who taught them ; and their exor- 
 bitant wealth, the severe injunction of celibacy, toge- 
 ther with the intolerable rigour of monastic vows, 
 appeared to him the great sources of their corruption. 
 From thence, it was but one step to cull in question 
 the divine original of the papal power, which autho- 
 rized and supported such a system of errours. As the 
 unavoidable result of the whole, he disclaimed the in- 
 fallibility of the pope, the decisions of schoolmen, or 
 any other human authority, and appealed to the word 
 of God, as the only standard of theological truth. 
 To this gradual progress Luther owed his success. 
 His hearers were not shocked at first by any proposi- 
 tion too repugnant to their ancient prejudices, or too 
 remote from established opinions. They were con- 
 ducted insensibly from one doctrine to another. Their 
 faith and conviction were able to keep pace with his
 
 272 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1620. discoveries. To the same cause was owing the inatten- 
 ~ tion, and even indifference, with which Leo viewed 
 Luther's first proceedings. A direct or violent attack 
 upon the authority of the church would at once have 
 drawn upon Luther the whole weight of its vengeance : 
 but as this was far from his thoughts, as he continued 
 long to profess great respect for the pope, and made 
 repeated offers of submission to his decisions, there 
 seemed to be no reason for apprehending that he 
 would prove the author of any desperate revolt ; and 
 he was suffered to proceed, step by step, in undermining 
 the constitution of the church, until the remedy applied 
 at last came too late to produce any effect. 
 
 An inquiry But whatever advantages Luther's cause derived, 
 either from the mistakes of his adversaries or from his 
 which con- own good conduct, the sudden progress and firm esta- 
 the pro- blishment of his doctrines must not be ascribed to these 
 gress of alone. The same corruptions in the church of Rome 
 tion. which he condemned, had been attacked long before 
 
 his time. The same opinions which he now propa- 
 gated, had been published in different places, and 
 were supported by the same arguments. Waldus in 
 the twelfth century, Wickliff in the fourteenth, and 
 Huss in the fifteenth, had inveighed against the errours 
 of popery with great boldness, and confuted them 
 with more ingenuity and learning than could have been 
 expected in those illiterate ages in which they flou- 
 rished. But all these premature attempts towards a 
 reformation proved abortive. Such feeble lights, inca- 
 pable of dispelling the darkness which then covered 
 the church, were soon extinguished ; and though the 
 doctrines of these pious men produced some effects, 
 and left some traces in the countries where they taught, 
 they were neither extensive nor considerable. Many 
 powerful causes contributed to facilitate Luther's pro- 
 gress, which either did not exist, or did not operate 
 with full force, in their days ; and at that critical and
 
 BOOK ir. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 273 
 
 mature juncture when he appeared, circumstances of 1520. 
 every kind concurred in rendering each step that he ~ 
 took successful. 
 
 The long and scandalous schism which divided the The long 
 church during the latter part of the fourteenth and the s hl * m in 
 beginning of the fifteenth centuries, had a great effect teenth 
 in diminishing the veneration with which the world centur y- 
 had been accustomed to view the papal dignity. Two 
 or three contending pontiffs roaming about Europe at 
 a time ; fawning on the princes whom they wanted to 
 gain; extorting large sums of money from the coun- 
 tries which acknowledged their authority ; excommuni- 
 cating their rivals, and cursing those who adhered to 
 them, discredited their pretensions to infallibility, and 
 exposed both their persons and their office to contempt. 
 The laity, to whom all parties appealed, came to learn 
 that some right of private judgment belonged to them, 
 and acquired the exercise of it so far as to choose, 
 among these infallible guides, whom they would please 
 to follow. The proceedings of the councils of Con- 
 stance and Basil spread this disrespect for the Romish 
 see still wider, and, by their bold exertion of authority in 
 deposing and electing popes, taught men that there was 
 in the church a jurisdiction superior even to the papal 
 power, which they had long believed to be supreme. 
 
 The wound given on that occasion to the papal au- The pontifi- 
 thority was scarcely healed up, when the pontificates 
 
 of Alexander the sixth, and Julius the second, both the sixth 
 able princes, but detestable ecclesiastics, raised new " 
 scandal in Christendom. The profligate morals of the d. 
 former in private life; the fraud, the injustice, and 
 cruelty of his public administration, place him on a 
 level with those tyrants, whose deeds are the greatest 
 reproach to human nature. The latter, though a 
 stranger to the odious passions which prompted his 
 predecessor to commit so many unnatural crimes, was^ 
 under the dominion of a restless and ungovernable 
 ambition, that scorned all considerations of gratitude, 
 VOL. in. T
 
 274 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. of decency, or of justice, when they obstructed the 
 
 execution of his schemes. It was hardly possible to 
 
 be firmly persuaded, that the infallible knowledge of 
 a religion, whose chief precepts are purity and hu- 
 mility, was deposited in the breasts of the profligate 
 Alexander, or the overbearing Julius. The opinion 
 of those who exalted the authority of a council above 
 that of the pope, spread wonderfully under their pon- 
 tificates : and as the emperor and French kings, who 
 were alternately engaged in hostilities with those active 
 pontiffs, permitted and even encouraged their subjects 
 to expose their vices with all the violence of invective 
 and all the petulance of ridicule; men's ears being 
 accustomed to these, were not shocked with the bold 
 or ludicrous discourses of Luther and his followers 
 concerning the papal dignity. 
 
 The immo- Nor were such excesses confined to the head of the 
 of'the 68 church alone. Many of the dignified clergy, secular 
 clergy. as well as regular, being the younger sons of noble 
 families, who had assumed the ecclesiastical character 
 for no other reason but that they found in the church 
 stations of great dignity and affluence, were accustom- 
 ed totally to neglect the duties of their office, and in- 
 dulged themselves without reserve in all the vices to 
 which great wealth and idleness naturally give birth. 
 Though the inferior clergy were prevented by their 
 poverty from imitating the expensive luxury of their 
 superiors, yet gross ignorance and low debauchery ren- 
 dered them as contemptible as the others were odious f . 
 
 1 The corrupt state of the church prior to the reformation is acknow- 
 ledged by an author, who was both abundantly able to judge concerning 
 this matter, and who was not over-forward to confess it. " For some years 
 (says Bellarmine) before the Lutheran and Calvinistic heresies were pub- 
 lished, there was not (as contemporary authors testify) any severity in 
 ecclesiastical judicatories, any discipline with regard to morals, any know- 
 ledge of sacred literature, any reverence for divine things; there was not 
 almost any religion remaining." Bellarminus, Concio xxviii. Oper. torn, 
 vi. col. 296. edit. Colon. 1617, apud Gerdesii Hist. Evan. Renovati, vol. 
 i.p.25.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 275 
 
 The severe and unnatural law of celibacy, to which 15-20. 
 both were equally subject, occasioned such irregula- - 
 rities, that in several parts of Europe the concubinage 
 of priests was not only permitted, but enjoined. The 
 employing of a remedy so contrary to the precepts of 
 the Christian religion, is the strongest proof that the 
 crimes it was intended to prevent were both numerous 
 and flagrant. Long before the sixteenth century, many 
 authors of great name and authority give such de- 
 scriptions of the dissolute morals of the clergy, as seem 
 almost incredible in the present age g . The voluptu- 
 ous lives of ecclesiastics occasioned great scandal, not 
 only because their manners were inconsistent with their 
 sacred character; but the laity being accustomed to 
 see several of them raised from the lowest stations to 
 the greatest affluence, did not show the same indul- 
 gence to their excesses, as to those of persons pos- 
 sessed of hereditary wealth or grandeur; and, viewing 
 their condition with more envy, they censured their 
 
 f Centum Gravamina Nation. German, in Fascicule Ker. expetend. et 
 fugiendarum, per Oituinum Gratium, vol. i. 361. See innumerable pas- 
 sages to the same purpose in the appendix, or second volume, published 
 by Edw. Brown. See also Herm. von der Hardt, Hist. Lit. Reform, pars 
 iii. and the vast collections of Walchius in his four volumes of Monumenta 
 Medii JEvi. Getting. 1757. 
 
 The authors I have quoted enumerate the vices of the clergy. When 
 they ventured upon actions manifestly criminal, we may conclude that they 
 would be less scrupulous with respect to the decorum of behaviour. Ac- 
 cordingly, their neglect of the decent conduct suitable to their profession 
 seems to have given great offence. In order to illustrate this, I shall 
 transcribe one passage, because it is not taken from any author whose 
 professed purpose it was to describe the improper conduct of the clergy ; 
 and who, from prejudice or artifice, may be supposed to aggravate the 
 charge against them. The emperor Charles the fourth, in a letter to the 
 archbishop of Mentz, a. d. 1359, exhorting him to reform the disorders 
 of the clergy, thus expresses himself: " De Christi patrimonio, ludos, 
 hastiladia et torneamenta exercent ; habitum militarem cum pnetextM 
 aureis et argenteis gestant, et calceos militares; comam et barbam nu- 
 triunt, et nihil quod ad vitam et ordinem ecclesiasticum spectat, ostendunt 
 Militaribus se duntaxat et secularibus actibus, vita et moribus, in sue 
 salutis dispendium, et generate populi scandalum, immiscent." Codex 
 Diplomaticus Anecdotorum, per Val. Ferd. Gudenum, 4to. vol. iii. p. 438.
 
 276 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 1520. crimes with greater severity. Nothing, therefore, could 
 ~ be more acceptable to Luther's hearers, than the vio- 
 lence with which he exclaimed against the immoralities 
 of churchmen; and every person in his audience could, 
 from his own observation, confirm the truth of his 
 invectives. 
 
 The facility The scandal of these crimes was greatly increased 
 th^7m- Ch by the facility with which such as committed them 
 moralities obtained pardon. In all the European kingdoms, the 
 done/.*'' importance of the civil magistrate, under forms of go- 
 vernment extremely irregular and turbulent, made it 
 necessary to relax the rigour of justice ; and upon pay- 
 ment of a certain fine or composition prescribed by law, 
 judges were accustomed to remit further punishment, 
 even of the most atrocious crimes. The court of Rome, 
 always attentive to the means of augmenting its reve- 
 nues, imitated this practice ; and, by a preposterous 
 accommodation of it to religious concerns, granted its 
 pardons to such transgressors as gave a sum of money 
 in order to purchase them. As the idea of a composi- 
 tion for crimes was then familiar, this strange traffic 
 was so far from shocking mankind, that it soon became 
 general ; and in order to prevent any imposition in car- 
 rying it on, the officers of the Roman chancery pub- 
 lished a book, containing the precise sum to be exacted 
 for the pardon of every particular sin. A deacon, 
 guilty of murder, was absolved for twenty crowns. A 
 bishop, or abbot, might assassinate for three hundred 
 livres. Any ecclesiastic might violate his vows of chas- 
 tity, even with the most aggravating circumstances, for 
 the third part of that sum. Even such shocking crimes 
 as occur seldom in human life, and perhaps exist only 
 in the impure imagination of a casuist, were taxed at a 
 very moderate rate. When a more regular and perfect 
 mode of dispensing justice came to be introduced into 
 civil courts, the practice of paying a composition for 
 crimes went gradually into disuse; and mankind hav- 
 ing acquired more accurate notions concerning religion
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 277 
 
 and morality, the conditions on which the court of 
 Rome bestowed its pardons appeared impious, and ~ 
 were considered as one great source of ecclesiastical 
 corruption h . 
 
 This degeneracy of manners among the clergy might The exorbi- 
 have been tolerated, perhaps, with greater indulgence, oHi^ 63 
 if their exorbitant riches and power had not enabled church ; 
 them, at the same time, to encroach on the rights of 
 every other order of men. It is the genius of super- 
 stition, fond of whatever is pompous or grand, to set 
 no bounds to its liberality towards persons whom it 
 esteems sacred, and to think its expressions of regard 
 defective, unless it hath raised them to the height of 
 wealth and authority. Hence flowed the extensive 
 revenues and jurisdiction possessed by the church in 
 every country in Europe, and which were become in- 
 tolerable to the laity, from whose undiscerning bounty 
 they were at first derived. 
 
 The burthen, however, of ecclesiastical oppression, particularly 
 had fallen with such peculiar weight on the Germans, m^ " 
 as rendered them, though naturally exempt from levity, 
 and tenacious of their ancient customs, more inclinable 
 than any people in Europe to listen to those who called 
 on them to assert their liberty. During the long con- 
 tests between the popes and emperors concerning the 
 right of investiture, and the wars which these occa- 
 sioned, most of the considerable German ecclesiastics 
 joined the papal faction ; and while engaged in rebel- 
 lion against the head of the empire, they seized the 
 imperial domains and revenues, and usurped the im- 
 perial jurisdiction within their own dioceses. Upon 
 the reestablishment of tranquillity, they still retained 
 these usurpations, as if by the length of an unjust pos- 
 session they had acquired a legal right to them. The 
 emperors, too feeble to wrest them out of their hands, 
 
 h Faacicul. Rer. cxpct. etfug. i. 366. J. G. Schelhornii A mo-nit. Literar. 
 Francof. 1725, vol. ii. 369. Diction, de Bayle, artic. Banck et Tuppius. 
 Taxa Cancellar. Romans, edit. Francof. 1661, pawim.
 
 78 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK ii. 
 
 1520. 
 
 where the 
 clergy 
 usurped a 
 great part 
 of the pro- 
 perty. 
 
 were obliged to grant the clergy fiefs of those ample 
 territories, and they enjoyed all the immunities, as well 
 as honours, which belonged to feudal barons. By 
 means of these, many bishops and abbots in Germany 
 were not only ecclesiastics, but princes, and their cha- 
 racter and manners partook more of the license too 
 frequent among the latter, than of the sanctity which 
 became the former 1 . 
 
 The unsettled state of government in Germany, and 
 the frequent wars to which that country was exposed, 
 contributed in another manner towards aggrandizing 
 ecclesiastics. The only property, during those times 
 of anarchy, which enjoyed security from the oppression 
 of the great, or the ravages of war, was that which be- 
 longed to the church. This was owing, not only to the 
 great reverence for the sacred character prevalent in 
 those ages, but to a superstitious dread of the sentence 
 of excommunication, which the clergy were ready to 
 denounce against all who invaded their possessions. 
 Many observing this, made a surrender of their lands 
 to ecclesiastics, and, consenting to hold them in fee of 
 the church, obtained as its vassals a degree of safety, 
 which, without this device, they were unable to procure. 
 By such an increase of the number of their vassals, the 
 power of ecclesiastics received a real and permanent 
 augmentation ; and as lands held in fee by the limited 
 tenures common in those ages, often returned to the 
 persons on whom the fief depended, considerable addi- 
 tions were made in this way to the property of the 
 clergy k . 
 
 The solicitude of the clergy in providing for the 
 safety of their own persons, was still greater than that 
 which they displayed in securing their possessions ; and 
 their efforts to attain it were still more successful. As 
 they were consecrated to the priestly office with much 
 
 J F. Paul, History of Ecclesiast. Benefices, p. 107. 
 k Id. ibid. p. 66. Boulainvillers, Etat de France, torn. i. 169. Lond. 
 1737.
 
 BOOK H. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 279 
 
 outward solemnity ; were distinguished from the rest of 1520. 
 mankind by a peculiar garb and manner of life ; and ~~ 
 arrogated to their order many privileges which do not 
 belong to other Christians, they naturally became the 
 objects of excessive veneration. As a superstitious 
 spirit spread, they were regarded as beings of a supe- 
 rior species to the profane laity, whom it would be im- 
 pious to try by the same laws, or to subject to the same 
 punishments. This exemption from civil jurisdiction, 
 granted at first to ecclesiastics as a mark of respect, 
 they soon claimed as a point of right. This valuable 
 immunity of the priesthood is asserted, not only in the 
 decrees of popes and councils, but was confirmed in 
 the most ample form by many of the greatest empe- 
 rors 1 . As long as the clerical character remained, the 
 person of an ecclesiastic was, in some degree, sacred ; 
 and unless he were degraded from his office, the un- 
 hallowed hand of the civil judge durst not touch him. 
 But as the power of degradation was lodged in the 
 spiritual courts, the difficulty and expense of obtaining 
 such a sentence too often secured absolute impunity to 
 offenders. Many assumed the clerical character, for 
 no other reason than that it might screen them from 
 the punishment which their actions deserved m . The 
 German nobles complained loudly, that these anointed 
 malefactors, as they called them", seldom suffered ca- 
 pitally, even for the most atrocious crimes ; and their 
 independence of the civil magistrate is often mentioned 
 in the remonstrances of the diets, as a privilege equally 
 pernicious to society, and to the morals of the clergy. 
 
 While the clergy asserted the privileges of their Their en- 
 own order with so much zeal, they made continual 
 
 encroachments upon those of the laity. All causes thejurisdic- 
 
 , . tionofthe 
 
 relative to matrimony, to testaments, to usury, to legi- i^y. 
 timacy of birth, as well as those which concerned ec- 
 
 1 Goldaati Constitut. Imperial. Francof. 1673, vol. ii. 92. 107. 
 
 Rymer's Foedera, vol. xiii. 632. . " Centum Gravam. sect. 31.
 
 280 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 1520. clesiastical revenues, were thought to be so connected 
 ~ with religion, that they could be tried only in the spiri- 
 tual courts. Not satisfied with this ample jurisdiction, 
 which extended to one half of the subjects that give 
 rise to litigation among men, the clergy, with wonderful 
 industry, and by a thousand inventions, endeavoured 
 to draw all other causes into their own courts . As 
 they had engrossed almost the whole learning known 
 in the dark ages, the spiritual judges were commonly 
 so far superior in knowledge and abilities to those em- 
 ployed in the secular courts, that the people, at first, 
 favoured any stretch that was made, to bring their 
 affairs under the cognizance of a judicature, on the de- 
 cisions of which they could rely with more perfect con- 
 fidence than on those of the civil courts. Thus the in- 
 terest of the church, and the inclination of the people, 
 concurring to elude the jurisdiction of the lay magis- 
 trate, soon reduced it almost to nothing p . By means 
 of this, vast power accrued to ecclesiastics, and no in- 
 considerable addition was made to their revenue by the 
 sums paid in those ages to the persons who adminis- 
 tered justice. 
 
 The dread- The penalty by which the spiritual courts enforced 
 ^eir sentences, added great weight and terrour to their 
 jurisdiction. The censure of excommunication was in- 
 stituted originally for preserving the purity of the 
 church ; that obstinate offenders, whose impious tenets 
 or profane lives were a reproach to Christianity, might 
 be cut off from the society of the faithful ; this, eccle- 
 siastics did not scruple to convert into an engine for 
 promoting their own power, and they inflicted it on the 
 most frivolous occasions. Whoever despised any of 
 their decisions, even concerning civil matters, imme- 
 diately incurred this dreadful censure, which not only 
 excluded them from all the privileges of a Christian, 
 
 Giannoue, Hist, of Naples, book xix. sect. 3. 
 P Centum Gravam. sect. 9. 56. 64.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 281 
 
 but deprived them of their rights as men and citizens' 1 ; 1520. 
 and the dread of this rendered even the most fierce and "" 
 turbulent spirits obsequious to the authority of the 
 church. 
 
 Nor did the clergy neglect the proper methods of The devices 
 preserving the wealth and power which they had ac- tics'toM-* 8 ' 
 quired with such industry and address. The posses- cur their 
 sions of the church, being consecrated to God, were us 
 declared to be unalienable ; so that the funds of a so- 
 ciety which was daily gaining, and could never lose, 
 grew to be immense. In Germany, it was computed 
 that the ecclesiastics had got into their hands more 
 than one half of the national property r . In other coun- 
 tries, the proportion varied ; but the share belonging 
 to the church was every where prodigious. These vast 
 possessions were not subject to the burthens imposed 
 on the lands of the laity. The German clergy were 
 exempted by law from all taxes*; and if, on any extra- 
 ordinary emergence, ecclesiastics were pleased to grant 
 some aid towards supplying the public exigencies, this 
 was considered as a free gift flowing from their own 
 generosity, which the civil magistrate had no title to 
 demand, far less to exact. In consequence of this 
 strange solecism in government, the laity in Germany 
 had the mortification to find themselves loaded with 
 excessive impositions, because such as possessed the 
 greatest property were freed from any obligation to 
 support or to defend the state. 
 
 Grievous, however, as the exorbitant wealth and The Ger- 
 numerous privileges of the clerical order were to the ^,"j" c 
 other members of the Germanic body, they would have mostly fo- 
 reckoned it some mitigation of the evil, if these had 
 been possessed only by ecclesiastics residing among 
 themselves, who would have been less apt to make an 
 improper use of their riches, or to exercise their rights 
 
 i Centum Gravam. sect. 34. ' Ibid. sect. 28. 
 
 Id. ibid. Goldasti Const. Iniper. ii. 79. 108. Pfeflel, Hist, du Droit 
 Publ. 360. 374.
 
 282 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 1520. w jth unbecoming rigour. But the bishops of Rome 
 having early put in a claim, the boldest that .ever hu- 
 man ambition suggested, of being supreme and infal- 
 lible heads of the Christian church; they, by their 
 profound policy and unwearied perseverance ; by their 
 address in availing themselves of every circumstance 
 which occurred ; by taking advantage of the supersti- 
 tion of some princes, of the necessities of others, and 
 of the credulity of the people, at length established 
 their pretensions, in opposition both to the interest and 
 common sense of mankind. Germany was the country 
 which these ecclesiastical sovereigns governed with 
 most absolute authority. They excommunicated and 
 deposed some of its most illustrious emperors, and 
 excited their subjects, their ministers, and even their 
 children, to take arms against them. Amidst these 
 contests, the popes continually extended their own im- 
 munities, spoiling the secular princes gradually of their 
 most valuable prerogatives, and the German church 
 felt all the rigour of that oppression which flows from 
 subjection to foreign dominion, and foreign exactions, 
 nominated The right of conferring benefices, which the popes 
 by the pope. usur p e( j during that period of confusion, was an acqui- 
 sition of great importance, and exalted the ecclesias- 
 tical power upon the ruins of the temporal. " The em- 
 perors and other princes of Germany had long been in 
 possession of this right, which served to increase both 
 their authority and their revenue. But by wresting it 
 out of their hands, the popes were enabled to fill the 
 empire with their own creatures ; they accustomed a 
 great body of every prince's subjects to depend, nov 
 upon him, but upon the Roman see ; they bestowed 
 upon strangers the richest benefices in every country, 
 and drained their wealth to supply the luxury of a 
 foreign court. Even the patience of the most super- 
 stitious ages could no longer bear such oppression; 
 and so loud and frequent were the complaints and 
 murmurs of the Germans, that the popes, afraid of
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 283 
 
 irritating them too far, consented, contrary to their 1520. 
 usual practice, to abate somewhat of their pretensions, 
 and to rest satisfied with the right of nomination to 
 such benefices as happened to fall vacant during six 
 months in the year, leaving the disposal of the re- 
 mainder to the princes and other legal patrons *. 
 
 But the court of Rome easily found expedients for The expe- 
 eluding an agreement which put such restraints on its ^^njn 
 power. The practice of reserving certain benefices in this power 
 every country to the pope's immediate nomination, ineffectual! 5 
 which had been long known, and often complained of, 
 was extended far beyond its ancient bounds. All the 
 benefices possessed by cardinals, or any of the nu- 
 merous officers in the Roman court; those held by 
 persons who happened to die at Rome, or within forty 
 miles of that city, on their journey to or from it ; such 
 as became vacant by translation, with many others, 
 were included in the number of ' reserved ' benefices. 
 Julius the second and Leo the tenth, stretching the 
 matter to the utmost, often collated to benefices where 
 the right of reservation had not been declared, on 
 pretence of having mentally reserved this privilege to 
 themselves. The right of reservation, however, even 
 with this extension, had certain limits, as it could be 
 exercised only where the benefice was actually vacant ; 
 and, therefore, in order to render the exertion of papal 
 power unbounded, 'expectative graces,' or mandates 
 nominating a person to succeed to a benefice upon the 
 first vacancy that should happen, were brought into 
 use. By means of these, Germany was filled with 
 persons who were servilely dependent on the court of 
 Rome, from which they had received such reversionary 
 grants ; princes were defrauded, in a great degree, of 
 their prerogatives ; the rights of lay patrons were pre- 
 occupied, and rendered almost entirely vain". 
 
 1 F. Paul, Hist, of Eccles. Benef. 204. Gold. Const. Iraper. i. 408. 
 Centum Gravam. sect. 21. Fascic. Rerura expet. etc. 334. Gold. 
 Const. Imper. i. 391. 404, 405. F. Paul, Hist, of Eccl. Benef. 167. 199.
 
 284 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK n. 
 
 1520. 
 
 Venality of 
 the court of 
 
 It drained 
 
 trieToTt 
 wealth. 
 
 The united 
 
 these 
 causes. 
 
 The manner in which these extraordinary powers 
 w ^re exercised, rendered them still more odious and 
 intolerable. The avarice and extortion of the court 
 of Rome were become excessive almost to a proverb. 
 The practice of selling benefices was so notorious, that 
 no pains were taken to conceal or to disguise it. Com- 
 panies of merchants openly purchased the benefices of 
 different districts in Germany from the pope's ministers, 
 and retailed them at an advanced price x . Pious men 
 beheld with deep regret these simoniacal transactions, 
 so unworthy the ministers of a Christian church ; while 
 politicians complained of the loss sustained by the ex- 
 portation of so much wealth in that irreligious traffic. 
 
 The sums, indeed, which the court of Rome drew 
 by its stated and legal impositions from all the countries 
 acknowledging its authority, were so considerable, that 
 it is not strange that princes, as well as their subjects, 
 murmured at the smallest addition made to them by 
 unnecessary or illicit means. Every ecclesiastical per- 
 son, upon his admission to his benefice, paid ' annuts,' 
 or one year's produce of his living, to the pope ; and 
 as that tax was exacted with great rigour, its amount 
 was very great. To this must be added, the frequent 
 demands made by the popes of free gifts from the 
 clergy, together with the extraordinary levies of tenths 
 upon ecclesiastical benefices, on pretence of expeditions 
 against the Turks, seldom intended, or carried into 
 execution ; and from the whole, the vast proportion of 
 the revenues of the church, which flowed continually 
 to Rome, may be estimated. 
 
 Such were the dissolute manners, the exorbitant 
 wealth, the enormous power and privileges of the 
 clergy, before the reformation ; such the oppressive 
 rigour of that dominion which the popes had esta- 
 blished over the Christian world; and such the senti- 
 ments concerning them that prevailed in Germany at 
 
 x Fascic. Rer. expet. i. 359.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 285 
 
 the beginning of the sixteenth century. Nor has this 1520. 
 sketcli been copied from the controversial writers of 
 that age, who, in the heat of disputation, may be sus- 
 pected of having exaggerated the errours, or of hav ing 
 misrepresented the conduct, of that church which they 
 laboured to overturn ; it is formed upon more authentic 
 evidence, upon the memorials and remonstrances of the 
 imperial diets, enumerating the. grievances under which 
 the empire groaned, in order to obtain the redress of 
 them. Dissatisfaction must have arisen to a great 
 height among the people, when these grave assem- 
 blies expressed themselves with that degree of acri- 
 mony which abounds in their remonstrances ; and if 
 they demanded the abolition of these enormities with 
 so much vehemence, the people, we may be assured, 
 uttered their sentiments and desires in bolder and 
 more virulent language. 
 
 To men thus prepared for shaking off the yoke, Lu- Men pre- 
 ther addressed himself with certainty of success. As ^UJJU^ ' 
 they had long felt its weight, and had borne it with Luther's 
 impatience, they listened with joy to the first offer of 
 procuring them deliverance. Hence proceeded the 
 fond and eager reception that his doctrines met with, 
 and the rapidity with which they spread over all the 
 prov inces of Germany. Even the impetuosity and and to t<>- 
 fierceness of Luther's spirit, his confidence in assert- 
 ing his own opinions, and the arrogance as well as con- 
 tempt wherewith he treated all who differed from him, 
 which, in ages of greater moderation and refinement, 
 have been reckoned defects in the character of that 
 reformer, did not appear excessive to his contempo- 
 raries, whose minds were strongly agitated by those 
 interesting controversies which he carried on, and who 
 had themselves endured the rigour of papal tyranny, 
 and seen the corruptions in the church against which 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 Nor were they offended at that gross scurrility with 
 which his polemical writings are filled, or at the low
 
 286 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK ii. 
 
 1520. 
 
 The effect 
 of the in- 
 vention of 
 printing on 
 the progress 
 of the re- 
 formation ; 
 
 and of the 
 revival of 
 learning. 
 
 buffoonery which he sometimes introduces into his 
 gravest discourses. No dispute was managed in those 
 rude times without a large portion of the former ; and 
 the latter was common, even on the most solemn occa- 
 sions, and in treating the most sacred subjects. So far 
 were either of these from doing hurt to his cause, that 
 invective and ridicule had some effect, as well as more 
 laudable arguments, in exposing the errours of popery, 
 and in determining mankind to abandon them. 
 
 Besides all these causes of Luther's rapid progress, 
 arising from the nature of his enterprise, and the junc- 
 ture at which he undertook it, he reaped advantage 
 from some foreign and adventitious circumstances, the 
 beneficial influence of which none of his forerunners in 
 the same course had enjoyed. Among these may be 
 reckoned the invention of the art of printing, about 
 half a century before his time. By this fortunate dis- 
 covery, the facility of acquiring and of propagating 
 knowledge was wonderfully increased ; and Luther's 
 books, which must otherwise have made their way 
 slowly and with uncertainty into distant countries, 
 spread at once all over Europe. Nor were they read 
 only by the rich and the learned, who alone had access 
 to books before that invention ; they got into the 
 hands of the people, who, upon this appeal to them as 
 judges, ventured to examine and to reject many doc- 
 trines which they had formerly been required to be- 
 lieve, without being taught to understand them. 
 
 The revival of learning, at the same period, was a 
 circumstance extremely friendly to the reformation. 
 The study of the ancient Greek and Roman authors, 
 by enlightening the human mind with liberal and sound 
 knowledge, roused it from that profound lethargy in 
 which it had been sunk during several centuries. Man- 
 kind seem, at that period, to have recovered the powers 
 of inquiring and of thinking for themselves, faculties of 
 which they had long lost the use ; and fond of the 
 acquisition, they exercised them with great boldness
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 287 
 
 upon all subjects. They were not now afraid of 1520. 
 entering an uncommon path, or of embracing a new ~ 
 opinion. Novelty appears rather to have been a re- 
 commendation of a doctrine ; and instead of being 
 startled when the daring hand of Luther drew aside, 
 or tore the veil which covered and established errours, 
 the genius of the age applauded and aided the at- 
 tempt. Luther, though a stranger to elegance in taste 
 or composition, zealously promoted the cultivation of 
 ancient literature ; and sensible of its being necessary 
 to the right understanding of the scriptures, he himself 
 had acquired considerable knowledge both in the He- 
 brew and Greek tongues. Melancthon and some other 
 of his disciples were eminent proficients in the polite 
 arts ; and as the same ignorant monks who opposed the 
 introduction of learning into Germany, set themselves 
 with equal fierceness against Luther's opinions, and 
 declared the good reception of the latter to be the 
 effect of the progress which the former had made, the 
 cause of learning and of the reformation came to be 
 considered as closely connected with each other, and, 
 in every country, had the same friends and the same 
 enemies. This enabled the reformers to carry on the 
 contest at first with great superiority. Erudition, in- 
 dustry, accuracy of sentiment, purity of composition, 
 even wit and raillery, were almost wholly on their side, 
 and triumphed with ease over illiterate monks, whose 
 rude arguments, expressed in a perplexed and barba- 
 rous style, were found insufficient for the defence of a 
 system, the errours of which, all the art and ingenuity 
 of its later and more learned advocates have not been 
 able to palliate. 
 
 That bold spirit of inquiry, which the revival of Luther 
 learning excited in Europe, was so favourable to the 
 
 reformation, that Luther was aided in his progress, * 
 and mankind were prepared to embrace his doctrines, hu success; 
 by persons who did not wish success to his under- 
 taking. The greater part of the ingenious men who
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1620. applied to the study of ancient literature towards the 
 ~~ close of the fifteenth century, and the beginning of the 
 sixteenth, though they had no intention, and, perhaps, 
 no wish, to overturn the established system of religion, 
 had discovered the absurdity of many tenets and prac- 
 tices authorized by the church, and perceived the fu- 
 tility of those arguments by which illiterate monks en- 
 deavoured to defend them. Their contempt of these 
 advocates for the received errours, led them frequently 
 to expose the opinions which they supported, and to 
 ridicule their ignorance, with great freedom and se- 
 verity. By this, men were prepared for the more serious 
 attacks made upon them by Luther, and their reve- 
 rence both for the doctrines and persons against whom 
 he inveighed, was considerably abated. This was par- 
 ticularly the case in Germany. When the first attempts 
 were made to revive a taste for ancient learning in that 
 country, the ecclesiastics there, who were still more 
 ignorant than their brethren on the other side of the 
 Alps, set themselves to oppose its progress with more 
 active zeal ; and the patrons of the new studies, in re- 
 turn, attacked them with greater violence. In the 
 writings of Reuchlin, Hutten, and the other revivers 
 of learning in Germany, the corruptions of the church 
 of Rome are censured with an acrimony of style, little 
 inferior to that of Luther himself y . 
 
 particu- From the same cause proceeded the frequent stric- 
 
 mus^ tures of Erasmus upon the errours of the church, as 
 
 well as upon the ignorance and vices of the clergy. 
 His reputation and authority were so high in Europe 
 at the beginning of the sixteenth century, and his 
 works were read with such universal admiration, that 
 the effect of these deserves to be mentioned as one of 
 the circumstances which contributed considerably to- 
 wards Luther's success. Erasmus, having been des- 
 
 * Gerdesius Hist. Evang. Renov. vol. i. p. 141. 157. Seckend. lib. i. 
 p. 103. Von der Hardt, Hist. Literar. Reform, pars i.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROfc CHARLES V. 289 
 
 tined for the church, and trained up in the knowledge 1520. 
 of ecclesiastical literature, applied himself more to ~~ 
 theological inquiries than any of the revivers of learn- 
 ing in that age. His acute judgment and extensive 
 erudition enabled him to discover many errours, both in 
 the doctrine and worship of the Romish church. Some 
 of these he confuted with great solidity of reasoning 
 and force of eloquence. Others he treated as objects 
 of ridicule, and turned against them that irresistible 
 torrent of popular and satirical wit, of which he had 
 the command. There was hardly any opinion or prac- 
 tice of the Romish church which Luther endeavoured 
 to reform, but what had been previously animadverted 
 upon by Erasmus, and had afforded him subject either 
 of censure or of raillery. Accordingly, when Luther 
 first began his attack upon the church, Erasmus seem- 
 ed to applaud his conduct ; he courted the friendship 
 of several of his disciples and patrons, and condemned 
 the behaviour and spirit of his adversaries z . He con- 
 curred openly with him in inveighing against the school 
 divines, as the teachers of a system equally unedifying 
 and obscure. He joined him in endeavouring to turn 
 the attention of men to the study of the holy scrip- 
 tures, as the only standard of religious truth *. 
 
 Various circumstances, however, prevented Erasmus 
 from holding the same course with Luther. The na- 
 tural timidity of his temper ; his want of that strength 
 of mind which alone can prompt a man to assume the 
 character of a reformer b ; his excessive deference for 
 
 1 Seckend. lib. i. p. 40. 96. 
 
 Von der Hardt, Histor. Literar. Reform, pars i. Gerdes. Hist. Evang. 
 Renov. i. 147. 
 
 b Erasmus himself is candid enough to acknowledge this: " Luther," 
 says he, " has given us many a wholesome doctrine, and many a good 
 counsel. I wish he had not defeated the effect of them by intolerable 
 faults. But if he had wrilten every thing in the most unexceptionable 
 manner, I haci no inclination to die for the sake of truth. Every man h*th 
 not the courage requisite to make a martyr ; and 1 am afraid, that if I 
 were put to the trial, I should imitate St. Peter." Epist. Krasmi, in Jortin' 
 Life of Erasm. vol. i. p. 273. 
 
 VOL. III. u
 
 290 THE KEIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1520. persons in high stations ; his dread of losing the pen- 
 ~ sions and other emoluments, which their liberality had 
 conferred upon him; his extreme love of peace, and 
 hopes of reforming abuses gradually, and by gentle 
 methods, all concurred in determining him not only to 
 repress and to moderate the zeal with which he had 
 once been animated against the errours of the church c , 
 but to assume the character of a mediator between 
 Luther and his opponents. But though Erasmus soon 
 began to censure Luther as too daring and impetuous, 
 and was at last prevailed upon to write against him, he 
 must, nevertheless, be considered as his forerunner 
 and auxiliary in this war upon the church. He first 
 scattered the seeds, which Luther cherished and 
 brought to maturity. His raillery and oblique cen- 
 sures prepared the way for Luther's invectives and 
 more direct attacks. In this light Erasmus appeared 
 to the zealous defenders of the Romish church in his 
 own times d . In this light he must be considered by 
 every person conversant in the history of that period. 
 
 In this long enumeration of the circumstances which 
 combined in favouring the progress of Luther's opi- 
 nions, or in weakening the resistance of his adversaries, 
 1 have avoided entering into any discussion of the 
 theological doctrines of popery, and have not at- 
 tempted to show how repugnant they are to the spirit 
 of Christianity, and how destitute of any foundation in 
 reason, in the word of God, or in the practice of the 
 primitive church, leaving those topics entirely to eccle- 
 siastical historians, to whose province they peculiarly 
 belong. But when we add the effect of these religious 
 considerations to the influence of political causes, it is 
 obvious that the united operation of both on the human 
 mind must have been sudden and irresistible. Though 
 to Luther's contemporaries, who were too near, per- 
 
 1 Jortin's Life of Erasmus, vol. i. p. 258. 
 
 J Von der Hardt, Hist, laterar. Reform, pars i. p. 2.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 291 
 
 haps, to the scene, or too deeply interested in it, to 1520. 
 trace causes with accuracy, or to examine them with 
 coolness, the rapidity with which his opinions spread, 
 appeared to be so unaccountable, that some of them 
 imputed it to a certain uncommon and malignant posi- 
 tion of the stars, which scattered the spirit of giddiness 
 and innovation over the world e ; it is evident, that the 
 success of the reformation was the natural effect of 
 many powerful causes, prepared by peculiar providence, 
 and happily conspiring to that end. This attempt to 
 investigate these causes, and to throw light on an 
 event, so singular and important, will not, perhaps, be 
 
 deemed an unnecessary digression. 1 return from 
 
 it to the course of the history. 
 
 The diet at Worms conducted its deliberations with Proceed- 
 that slow formality peculiar to such assemblies. Much ^ t f the 
 time was spent in establishing some regulations with Worms, 
 regard to the internal police of the empire. The juris- 
 diction of the imperial chamber was confirmed, and 
 the forms of its proceeding rendered more fixed and 
 regular. A council of regency was appointed to assist 
 Ferdinand in the government of the empire during any 
 occasional absence of the emperor; which, from the 
 extent of the emperor's dominions, as well as the mul- 
 tiplicity of his affairs, was an event that might be fre- 
 quently expected f . The state of religion was then 
 taken into consideration. There were not wanting The em- 
 some plausible reasons which might have induced J-j^V,,, 
 Charles to have declared himself the protector of Lu- regard to 
 ther's cause, or at least to have connived at its pro- 
 gress. If he had possessed no other dominions but 
 those which belonged to him in Germany, and no 
 other crown besides the imperial, he might have been 
 disposed, perhaps, to favour a man, who asserted so 
 boldly the privileges and immunities for which the em- 
 
 ' Jovii Historia Lut. 1553, fol. p. 134. 
 
 f Pont. Heuter. Rerum Austr. lib. viii. cap. 11. p. 195. Pfeffel, AbrcgS 
 Chronol. p. 598. 
 
 l >
 
 292 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1521. pire had struggled so long with the popes. But the 
 ~~ vast and dangerous schemes which Francis the first 
 was forming against Charles, made it necessary for him 
 to regulate his conduct by views more extensive than 
 those which would have suited a German prince ; and 
 it being of the utmost importance to secure the pope's 
 friendship, this determined him to treat Luther with 
 great severity, as the most effectual method of soothing 
 Leo into a concurrence with his measures. His eager- 
 ness to accomplish this, rendered him not unwilling to 
 gratify the papal legates in Germany, who insisted that, 
 without any delay or formal deliberation, the diet ought 
 to condemn a man whom the pope had already excom- 
 municated as an incorrigible heretic. fc Such an abrupt 
 manner of proceeding, however, being deemed unpre- 
 cedented and unjust by the members of the diet, they 
 
 He is sum- made a point of Luther's appearing in person, and de- 
 
 moned 1 
 appear. 
 
 claring whether he adhered or not to those opinions 
 
 which had drawn upon him the censures of the 
 church 8 . Not only the emperor, but all the princes 
 through whose territories he had to pass, granted him 
 March 6. a safe-conduct ; and Charles wrote to him at the same 
 time, requiring his immediate attendance on the diet, 
 and renewing his promises of protection from any in- 
 jury or violence 11 . Luther did not hesitate one mo- 
 ment about yielding obedience, and set out for Worms, 
 attended by the herald who had brought the emperor's 
 letter and safe-conduct. While on his journey, many 
 of his friends, whom the fate of Huss under similar 
 circumstances, and notwithstanding the same security 
 of an imperial safe-conduct, filled with solicitude, ad- 
 vised and entreated him not to rush wantonly into the 
 Hisun- midst of danger. But Luther, superior to such ter- 
 spirit? rours, silenced them with this reply: "I am lawfully 
 called," said he, " to appear in that city, and thither 
 will I go in the name of the Lord, though as many 
 
 f P. Mart. Ep. 722. " Luth. Oper. ii. 411.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 293 
 
 devils, as there are tiles on the houses, were there 1521. 
 combined against me '." 
 
 The reception which he met with at Worms, was His recep- 
 tion at 
 Worms. 
 
 such as he might have reckoned a full reward of all tlon at 
 
 his labours, if vanity and the love of applause had been 
 the principles by which he was influenced. Greater 
 crowds assembled to behold him, than had appeared 
 at the emperor's public entry; his apartments were 
 daily filled with princes and personages of the highest 
 rank k , and he was treated with all the respect paid to 
 those who possess the power of directing the under- 
 standing and sentiments of other men; an homage 
 more sincere, as well as more flattering, than any which 
 preeminence in birth or condition can command. At The man- 
 his appearance before the diet, he behaved with great e 
 decency, and with equal firmness. He readily acknow- ance. 
 ledged an excess of vehemence and acrimony in his 
 controversial writings, but refused to retract his opi- 
 nions, unless he were convinced of their falsehood ; or 
 to consent to their being tried by any other rule than 
 the word of God. When neither threats nor entreaties 
 could prevail on him to depart from this resolution, 
 some of the ecclesiastics proposed to imitate the ex- 
 ample of the council of Constance, and by punishing 
 the author of this pestilent heresy, who was now in 
 their power, to deliver the church at once from such 
 an evil. But the members of the diet refusing to ex- 
 pose the German integrity to fresh reproach by a se- 
 cond violation of public faith ; and Charles being no 
 less unwilling to bring a stain upon the beginning of 
 his administration by such an ignominious action, Lu- 
 ther was permitted to depart in safety '. A few days April 26. 
 after he left the city, a severe edict was published in ^.^ 
 the emperor's name, and by authority of the diet, de- him. 
 priving him, as an obstinate and excommunicated cri- 
 
 ' Luth. Oper. ii. 412. k Seckend. 156. Luth. Oper. ii. 414. 
 
 1 F. Paul, Hist, of COUDC. p. 13. Seckend. 160.
 
 294 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK ii. 
 
 1521. 
 
 He is seized 
 and con- 
 cealed at 
 Wartburg. 
 
 Progress 
 of his 
 opinions. 
 
 minal, of all the privileges which he enjoyed as a sub- 
 ject of the empire, forbidding any prince to harbour 
 or protect him, and requiring all to concur in seizing 
 his person as soon as the term specified in his safe- 
 conduct was expired m . 
 
 But this rigorous decree had no considerable effect, 
 the execution of it being prevented, partly by the mul- 
 tiplicity of occupations which the commotions in Spain, 
 together with the wars in Italy and the Low Countries, 
 created to the emperor ; and partly by a prudent pre- 
 caution employed by the elector of Saxony, Luther's 
 faithful and discerning patron. As Luther, on his re- 
 turn from Worms, was passing near Altenstein in Thu- 
 ringia, a number of horsemen in masks rushed suddenly 
 out of a wood, where the elector had appointed them 
 to lie in wait for him, and, surrounding his company, 
 carried him, after dismissing all his attendants, to 
 Wartburg, a strong castle not far distant. There the 
 elector ordered him to be supplied with every thing 
 necessary or agreeable; but the place of his retreat 
 was carefully concealed, until the fury of the present 
 storm against him began to abate, upon a change in 
 the political situation of Europe. In this solitude, 
 where he remained nine months, and which he fre- 
 quently called his Patmos, after the name of that island 
 to which the apostle John was banished, he exerted 
 his usual vigour and industry in defence of his doc- 
 trines, or in confutation of his adversaries, publishing 
 several treatises, which revived the spirit of his follow- 
 ers, astonished to a great degree, and disheartened at 
 the sudden disappearance of their leader. 
 
 During his confinement, his opinions continued to 
 gain ground, acquiring the ascendant in almost every 
 city in Saxony. At this time, the augustinians of 
 Wittemberg, with the approbation of the university, 
 and the connivance of the elector, ventured upon the 
 
 Gold. Const. Imperial, ii. 401.
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 293 
 
 first step towards an alteration in the established forms 1521. 
 of public worship, by abolishing the celebration of pri- ~ 
 vate masses, and by giving the cup as well as the bread 
 to the laity, in administering the sacrament of the 
 Lord's supper. 
 
 Whatever consolation the courage and success of his Decree of 
 disciples, or the progress of his doctrines in his own sity of'plris 
 country, afforded Luther in his retreat, he there re- condemning 
 ceived information of two events which considerably 
 damped his joy, as they seemed to lay insuperable ob- 
 stacles in the way of propagating his principles, in the 
 two most powerful kingdoms of Europe. One was a 
 solemn decree, condemning his opinions, published by 
 the university of Paris, the most ancient, and, at that 
 time, the most respectable of the learned societies in 
 Europe. The other was the answer written to his Henry U 
 book concerning the Babylonish captivity by Henry 
 
 the eighth of England. That monarch, having been against 
 educated under the eye of a suspicious father, who, in 
 order to prevent his attending to business, kept him 
 occupied in the study of literature, still retained a 
 greater love of learning, and stronger habits of appli- 
 cation to it, than are common among princes of so 
 active a disposition, and such violent passions. Being 
 ambitious of acquiring glory of every kind, as well as 
 zealously attached to the Romish church, and highly 
 exasperated against Luther, who had treated Thomas 
 Aquinas, his favourite author, with great contempt, 
 Henry did not' think it enough to exert his royal au- 
 thority in opposing the opinions of the reformer, but 
 resolved, likewise, to combat them with scholastic wea- 
 pon*. With this view he published his treatise on the 
 seven sacraments, which, though forgotten at present, 
 as books of controversy always are, when the occasion 
 that produced them is past, is not destitute of polemi- 
 cal ingenuity and acuteness, and was represented, by 
 the flattery of his courtiers, to be a work of such won- 
 derful science and learning, as exalted him no less
 
 296 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK ii. 
 
 1521. 
 
 Luther's 
 reply to 
 both. 
 
 State of 
 affairs 
 between 
 Charles 
 and Fran- 
 cis. 
 
 above other authors in merit, than he was distinguished 
 among them by his rank. The pope, to whom it was 
 presented with the greatest formality in full consistory, 
 spoke of it in such terms, as if it had been dictated by 
 immediate inspiration ; and, as a testimony of the grati- 
 tude of the church for his extraordinary zeal, conferred 
 on him the title of ' defender of the faith,' an appella- 
 tion which Henry soon forfeited in the opinion of those 
 from whom he derived it, and which is still retained by 
 his successors, though the avowed enemies of those 
 opinions, by contending for which he merited that ho- 
 nourable distinction. Luther, who was not overawed, 
 either by the authority of the university, or the dignity 
 of the monarch, soon published his animadversions on 
 both, in a style no less vehement and severe, than he 
 would have used in confuting his meanest antagonist. 
 This indecent boldness, instead of shocking his con- 
 temporaries, was considered by them as a new proof of 
 his undaunted spirit. A controversy managed by dis- 
 putants so illustrious, drew universal attention; and 
 such was the contagion of the spirit of innovation, dif- 
 fused through Europe in that age, and so powerful the 
 evidence which accompanied the doctrines of the re- 
 formers on their first publication, that, in spite both of 
 the civil and ecclesiastical powers combined against 
 them, they daily gained converts both in France and 
 in England. 
 
 How desirous soever the emperor might be to put a 
 stop to Luther's progress, he was often obliged, during 
 the diet at Worms, to turn his thoughts to matters still 
 more interesting, and whicli demanded more immediate 
 attention. A war was ready to break out between him 
 and the French king in Navarre, in the Low Countries, 
 and in Italy; and it required either great address to 
 avert the danger, or timely and wise precautions to 
 resist it. Every circumstance, at that juncture, in- 
 clined Charles to prefer the former measure. Spain 
 was torn with intestine commotions. In Italy he had
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 297 
 
 not, hitherto, secured the assistance of any one ally. 1521. 
 In the Low Countries, his subjects trembled at the 
 thoughts of a rupture with France, the fatal effects of 
 which on their commerce they had often experienced. 
 From these considerations, as well as from the solici- 
 tude of Chievres, during his whole administration, to 
 maintain peace between the two monarchs, proceeded 
 the emperor's backwardness to commence hostilities. 
 But Francis and his ministers did not breathe the same 
 pacific spirit. He easily foresaw that concord could 
 not long subsist, where interest, emulation, and ambi- 
 tion, conspired to dissolve it ; and he possessed several 
 advantages which flattered him with the hopes of sur- 
 prising his rival, and of overpowering him before he 
 could put himself in a posture of defence. The French 
 king's dominions, from their compact situation, from 
 their subjection to the royal authority, from the genius 
 of the people, fond of war, and attached to their sove- 
 reign by every tie of duty and affection, were more 
 capable of a great or sudden effort, than the larger 
 but disunited territories of the emperor, in one part of 
 which the people were in arms against his ministers, 
 and in all his prerogative was more limited than that of 
 his rival. 
 
 The only princes, in whose power it was to have kept Henry the 
 down, or to have extinguished this flame on its first ap- "^ t| ^~ 
 pearance, either neglected to exert themselves, or were emperor, 
 active in kindling and spreading it. Henry the eighth, 
 though he affected to assume the name of mediator, 
 and both parties made frequent appeals to him, had 
 laid aside the impartiality which suited that character. 
 Wolsey, by his artifices, had estranged himself so en- 
 tirely from the French king, that he secretly fomented 
 the discord which he ought to have composed, and 
 waited only for some decent pretext to join his arms to 
 those of the emperor". 
 
 Herbert. Fiddes's Life of WoUey, 368.
 
 298 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK n. 
 
 1521. 
 
 Leo hesi- 
 tates be- 
 tween the 
 rivals; 
 
 Leo's endeavours to excite discord between the em- 
 peror and Francis were more avowed, and had greater 
 influence. Not only his duty, as the common father of 
 Christendom, but his interest as an Italian potentate, 
 called upon the pope to act as the guardian of the pub- 
 lic tranquillity, and to avoid any measure that might 
 overturn the system, which, after much bloodshed, and 
 many negotiations, was now established in Italy. Ac- 
 cordingly Leo, who instantly discerned the propriety 
 of this conduct, had formed a scheme, upon Charles's 
 promotion to the imperial dignity, of rendering himself 
 the umpire between the rivals, by soothing them alter- 
 nately, while he entered into no close confederacy with 
 either; and a pontiff less ambitious and enterprising 
 might have saved Europe from many calamities by ad- 
 hering to this plan. But this high-spirited prelate, 
 who was still in the prime of life, longed passionately 
 to distinguish his pontificate by some splendid action. 
 He was impatient to wash away the infamy of having 
 lost Parma and Placentia, the acquisition of which 
 reflected so much lustre on the administration of his 
 predecessor Julius. He beheld, with the indignation 
 natural to Italians in that age, the dominion which the 
 transalpine, or, as they, in imitation of the Roman 
 arrogance, denominated them, the barbarous nations, 
 had attained in Italy. He flattered himself that, after 
 assisting the one monarch to strip the other of his pos- 
 sessions in that country, he might find means of driving 
 out the victor in his turn, and acquire the glory of re- 
 storing Italy to the liberty and happiness which it had 
 enjoyed before the invasion of Charles the eighth, 
 when every state was governed by its native princes, 
 or its own laws, and unacquainted with a foreign yoke. 
 Extravagant and chimerical as this project may seem, 
 it was the favourite object of almost every Italian emi- 
 nent for genius or enterprise during great part of the 
 sixteenth century. They vainly hoped that, by supe- 
 rior skill in the artifices and refinements of negotiation,
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 299 
 
 they should be able to baffle the efforts of nations less 15-21. 
 polished, indeed, than themselves, but much more ~~ 
 powerful and warlike. So alluring was the prospect 
 of this to Leo, that, notwithstanding the gentleness of 
 his disposition, and his fondness for the pleasures of a 
 refined and luxurious ease, he hastened to disturb the 
 peace of Europe, and to plunge himself into a danger- 
 ous war, with an impetuosity scarcely inferior to that 
 of the turbulent and martial Julius . 
 
 It was in Leo's power, however, to choose which of 
 the monarchs he would take for his confederate against 
 the other. Both of them courted his friendship ; he 
 wavered for some time between them, and at first con- 
 cluded an alliance with Francis. The object of this 
 treaty was the conquest of Naples, which the con- 
 federates agreed to divide between them. The pope, 
 it is probable, flattered himself, that the brisk and 
 active spirit of Francis, seconded by the same qualities 
 in his subjects, would get the start of the slow and wary 
 councils of the emperor, and that they might overrun 
 with ease this detached portion of his dominions, ill 
 provided for defence, and always the prey of every in- 
 vader. But whether the French king, by discovering 
 too openly his suspicion of Leo's sincerity, disappointed 
 these hopes ; whether the treaty was only an artifice of 
 the pope's, to cover the more serious negotiations which 
 he was carrying on with Charles ; whether he was en- 
 ticed by the prospect of reaping greater advantages 
 from an union with that prince; or whether he was 
 .soothed by the zeal which Charles had manifested for 
 the honour of the church in condemning Luther; cer- concludes 
 tain it is, that he soon deserted his new ally, and made * Jj aty 
 overtures of friendship, though with great secrecy, to chailes. 
 the emperor p . Don John Manuel, the same man who 
 had been the favourite of Philip, and whose address 
 
 Guic. lib. xiv. p. 173. 
 
 f Id. ibid. p. 175. Mtm. de Bellay, Par. 1573, p. 24.
 
 300 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1521. had disconcerted all Ferdinand's schemes, having been 
 - delivered, upon the death of that monarch, from the 
 prison to which he had been confined, was now the 
 imperial ambassador at Rome, and fully capable of im- 
 proving this favourable disposition in the pope to his 
 master's advantaged To him the conduct of this ne- 
 gotiation was entirely committed ; and being carefully 
 concealed from Chievres, whose aversion to a war with 
 France would have prompted him to retard or to defeat 
 it, an alliance between the pope and emperor was 
 May 8. quickly concluded r . The chief articles in this treaty, 
 which proved the foundation of Charles's grandeur in 
 Italy, were, that the pope and emperor should join 
 their forces to expel the French out of the Milanese, 
 the possession of which should be granted to Francis 
 Sforza, a son of Ludovico the Moor, who had resided 
 at Trent since the time that his brother Maximilian had 
 been dispossessed of his dominions by the French king ; 
 that Parma and Placentia should be restored to the 
 church; that the emperor should assist the pope in 
 conquering Ferrara; that the annual tribute paid by 
 the kingdom of Naples to the holy see should be in- 
 creased ; that the emperor should take the family of 
 Medici under his protection ; that he should grant to 
 the cardinal of that name a pension of ten thousand 
 ducats upon the archbishopric of Toledo ; and should 
 settle lands in the kingdom of Naples to the same value 
 upon Alexander the natural son of Lorenzo de' Medici. 
 Death of The transacting an affair of such moment without 
 tteempe- n ^ s P art '- c ip tlt i n > appeared to Chievres so decisive a 
 
 ror's favour- proof of his having lost the ascendant which he had 
 
 nister. hitherto maintained over the mind of his pupil, that 
 
 his chagrin on this account, added to the melancholy 
 
 with which he was overwhelmed, on taking a view of 
 
 the many and unavoidable calamities attending a war 
 
 i Jovii Vita Leonis, lib. iv. p. 89. 
 
 T Guic. lib. xiv. 181. Mm. de Bellay, p. 24. Du Mont, Corps Diplom. 
 torn. iv. suppl. p. 96.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 301 
 
 against France, is said to have shortened his days'. 1521. 
 But though this, perhaps, may be only the conjecture 
 of historians, fond of attributing every thing that be- 
 falls illustrious personages to extraordinary causes, and 
 of ascribing even their diseases and death to the effect 
 of political passions, which are more apt to disturb the 
 enjoyment than to abridge the period of life, it is cer- 
 tain that his death, at this critical juncture, extin- 
 guished all hopes of avoiding a rupture with France l . 
 This event, too, delivered Charles from a minister, to 
 whose authority he had been accustomed from his in- 
 fancy to submit with such implicit deference, as check- 
 ed and depressed his genius, and retained him in a 
 state of pupilage, unbecoming his years as well as his 
 rank. But this restraint being removed, the native 
 powers of his mind were permitted to unfold them- 
 selves, and he began to display such great talents, both 
 in council and in action, as exceeded the hopes of his 
 contemporaries", and command the admiration of pos- 
 terity. 
 
 While the pope and emperor were preparing, in Commence- 
 consequence of their secret alliance, to attack Milan, ^"^i,, 08 ' 
 hostilities commenced in another quarter. The chil- Navarre, 
 dren of John d'Albret, king of Navarre, having often 
 demanded the restitution of their hereditary dominions, 
 in terms of the treaty of Noyon, and Charles having as 
 often eluded their requests upon very frivolous pre- 
 texts, Francis thought himself authorized by that 
 treaty to assist the exiled family. The juncture ap- 
 peared extremely favourable for such an enterprise. 
 Charles was at a distance from that part of his domi- 
 nions; the troops usually stationed there, had been 
 called away to quell the commotions in Spain; the 
 Spanish mulecontents warmly solicited him to invade 
 Navarre ", in which a considerable faction was ready to 
 
 Ilelcarii Comment, de Ileb. Gallic. 483. 
 
 1 P. Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. viii. c. 11. p. 197. 
 
 P. Mart. Ep. 735. Id. E P . 721.
 
 302 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1521. declare for the descendants of their ancient monarchs. 
 ~ But in order to avoid, as much as possible, giving of- 
 fence to the emperor, or king of England, Francis di- 
 rected forces to be levied, and the war to be carried 
 on, not in his own name, but in that of Henry d'Albret. 
 The conduct of these troops was committed to Andrew 
 de Foix de 1'Esparre, a young nobleman, whom his 
 near alliance to the unfortunate king whose battles he 
 was to fight, and, what was still more powerful, the in- 
 terest of his sister, madame de Chateaubriand, Fran- 
 cis's favourite mistress, recommended to that important 
 trust, for which he had neither talents nor experience. 
 But, as there was no army in the field to oppose him, 
 he became master, in a few days, of the whole kingdom 
 of Navarre, without meeting with any obstruction but 
 
 Progress of from the citadel of Pampeluna. The additional works 
 rench. to ^ & f or t resSj begun by Ximenes, were still unfinish- 
 ed ; nor would its slight resistance have deserved no- 
 tice, if Ignatio Loyola, a Biscayan gentleman, had not 
 been dangerously wounded in its defence. During the 
 progress of a lingering cure, Loyola happened to have 
 no other amusement than what he found in reading the 
 lives of the saints : the effect of this on his mind, natu- 
 rally enthusiastic, but ambitious and daring, was to in- 
 spire him with such a desire of emulating the glory of 
 these fabulous worthies of the Roman church, as led 
 him into the wildest and most extravagant adventures, 
 which terminated at last in instituting the society of 
 Jesuits, the most political and best regulated of all the 
 monastic orders, and from which mankind have derived 
 more advantages, and received greater injury, than 
 from any other of those religious fraternites. 
 
 They enter If, upon the reduction of Pampeluna, 1'Esparre had 
 11 e ' been satisfied with taking proper precautions for se- 
 curing his conquest, the kingdom of Navarre might 
 still have remained annexed to the crown of France, in 
 reality, as well as in title. But, pushed on by youthful 
 ardour, and encouraged by Francis, who was too apt
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 303 
 
 to be dazzled with success, he ventured to pass the 1521. 
 confines of Navarre, and to lay siege to Logrogno, a 
 small town in Castile. This roused the Castilians, who 
 had hitherto beheld the rapid progress of his arms 
 with great unconcern; and the dissensions in that king- 
 dom, of which a full account shall be given, being 
 almost composed, both parties exerted themselves with 
 emulation in defence of their country ; the one, that it 
 might efface the memory of past misconduct by its pre- 
 sent zeal ; the other, that it might add to the merit of 
 having subdued the emperor's rebellious subjects, that 
 of repulsing his foreign enemies. The sudden advance They are 
 of their troops, together with the gallant defence made J^'rive 
 by the inhabitants of Logrogno, obliged the French ut of N 
 general to abandon his rash enterprise. The Spanish 
 army, which increased every day, harassing him dur- 
 ing his retreat, he, instead of taking shelter under the 
 cannon of Pampeluna, or waiting the arrival of some 
 troops which were marching to join him, attacked the 
 Spaniards, though far superior to him in number, with 
 great impetuosity, but with so little conduct, that his 
 forces were totally routed, he himself, together with 
 his principal officers, was taken prisoner, and Spain re- 
 covered possession of Navarre in still shorter time than 
 the French had spent in the conquest of it 7 . 
 
 While Francis endeavoured to justify his invasion of Hostilities 
 Navarre, by carrying it on in the name of Henry d'Al- 
 bret, lie had recourse to an artifice much of the same tries, 
 kind, in attacking another part of the emperor's terri- 
 tories. Robert de la Mark, lord of the small but inde- 
 pendent territory of Bouillon, situated on the frontiers 
 of Luxembourg and Champagne, having abandoned 
 Charles's service on account of an encroachment which 
 the aulic council had made on his jurisdiction, and hav- 
 ing thrown himself upon France for protection, was 
 r.i>ily persuaded, in the heat of his resentment, to send 
 
 ' M.-m. de Bellay, p. 21. P. Mart. Ep. 726.
 
 304 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1521. a herald to Worms, and to declare war against the em- 
 ~~ peror in form. Such extravagant insolence in a petty 
 prince surprised Charles, and appeared to him a certain 
 proof of his having received promises of powerful sup- 
 port from the French king. The justness of this conclu- 
 sion soon became evident. Robert entered the dutchy 
 of Luxembourg with troops levied in France, by the 
 king's connivance, though seemingly in contradiction to 
 his orders, and, after ravaging the open country, laid 
 siege to Vireton. Of this Charles complained loudly, as 
 a direct violation of the peace subsisting between the 
 two crowns, and summoned Henry the eighth, in terms 
 of the treaty concluded at London, in the year one thou- 
 sand five hundred and eighteen, to turn his arms against 
 Francis as the first aggressor. Francis pretended that 
 he was not answerable for Robert's conduct, whose 
 army fought under his own standards and in his own 
 quarrel ; and affirmed, that, contrary to an express 
 prohibition, he had seduced some subjects of France 
 into his service ; but Henry paid so little regard to this 
 evasion, that the French king, rather than irritate a 
 prince whom he still hoped to gain, commanded de la 
 Mark to disband his troops 2 . 
 
 The emperor, meanwhile, was assembling an army 
 
 to chastise Robert's insolence. Twenty thousand men, 
 
 under the count of Nassau, invaded his little territories, 
 
 and in a few days became masters of every place in 
 
 them but Sedan. After making him feel so sensibly 
 
 the weight of his master's indignation, Nassau advanced 
 
 towards the frontiers of France ; and Charles, knowing 
 
 that he might presume so far on Henry's partiality in 
 
 his favour, as not to be overawed by the same fears 
 
 which had restrained Francis, ordered his general to 
 
 Siege of besiege Mouson. The cowardice of the garrison hav- 
 
 theTmpe- y ' m & obliged, the governor to surrender almost without 
 
 rialists; resistance, Nassau invested Mezieres, a place at that 
 
 * Me"m. de Bellay, p. 22, etc. Mem. de Fleuranges, p.;335,^etc.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 305 
 
 time of no considerable strength, but so advantageously 1521. 
 situated, that, by getting possession of it, the imperial 
 army might have penetrated into the heart of Cham- 
 pagne, in which there was hardly any other town ca- 
 pable of obstructing its progress. Happily for France, 
 its monarch, sensible of the importance of this fortress, 
 and of the danger to which it was exposed, committed 
 the defence of it to the chevalier Bayard, distinguished 
 among his contemporaries by the appellation of ' the 
 knight without fear, and without reproach*.' This 
 man, whose prowess in combat, whose punctilious ho- 
 nour and formal gallantry, bear a nearer resemblance, 
 than any thing recorded in history, to the character 
 ascribed to the heroes of chivalry, possessed all the ta- 
 lents which form a great general. These he had many 
 occasions of exerting in the defence of M6zieres; partly 
 by his valour, partly by his conduct, he protracted the 
 siege to a great length, and in the end obliged the im- 
 perialists to raise it, with disgrace and loss b . Francis, 
 at the head of a numerous army, soon retook Mouson, 
 and, entering the Low Countries, made several con- 
 quests of small importance. In the neighbourhood of 
 Valenciennes, through an excess of caution, an errour 
 with which he cannot be often charged, he lost an op- 
 portunity of cutting off the whole imperial anny c ; and, 
 what was still more unfortunate, he disgusted Charles 
 duke of Bourbon, high constable of France, by giving 
 the command of the van to the duke d'Alenon, though 
 this post of honour belonged to Bourbon, as a prero- 
 gative of his office. 
 
 During these operations in the field, a congress was August, 
 held at Calais, under the mediation of Henry the eighth, c ^^" 
 in order to bring all differences to an amicable issue ; under the 
 
 11 ii mediation 
 
 and if the intentions of the mediator had corresponded, O f England. 
 
 Oeuvres de Brantome, torn. vi. 114. 
 
 * Mem. de Bellay, p. 25, etc. 
 
 P. Mart. Kp. 747. Mem. de Bellay, 35. 
 
 VOL. III. x '
 
 30f> THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 1521. in any degree, to his professions, it could hardly have 
 ~~ failed of producing some good effect. But Henry com- 
 mitted the sole management of the negotiation, with 
 unlimited powers, to Wolsey; and this choice alone 
 was sufficient to have rendered it abortive. That pre- 
 late, bent on attaining the papal crown, the great ob- 
 ject of his ambition, and ready to sacrifice every thing 
 in order to gain the emperor's interest, was so little 
 able to conceal his partiality, that, if Francis had not 
 been well acquainted with his haughty a*nd vindictive 
 temper, he would have declined his mediation. Much 
 time was spent in inquiring who had begun hostilities, 
 which Wolsey affected to represent as the principal 
 point ; and by throwing the blame of that on Francis, 
 he hoped to justify, by the treaty of London, any al- 
 liance into which his master should enter with Charles, 
 without any The conditions on which hostilities might be terminated 
 came next to be considered ; but with regard to these, 
 the emperor's proposals were such, as discovered either 
 that he was utterly averse to peace, or that he knew 
 Wolsey would approve of whatever terms should be 
 offered in his name. He demanded the restitution of 
 the dutchy of Burgundy, a province, the possession of 
 which would have given him access into the heart of 
 France ; and required to be released from the homage 
 due to the crown of France for the counties of Flanders 
 and Artois, which none of his ancestors had ever re- 
 fused, and which he had bound himself by the treaty 
 of Noyon to renew. These terms, to which an high- 
 spirited prince would scarcely have listened, after the 
 disasters of an unfortunate war, Francis rejected with 
 great disdain; and Charles showing no inclination to 
 comply with the more equal and moderate propositions 
 of the French monarch, that he should restore Navarre 
 to its lawful prince, and withdraw his troops from the 
 siege of Tournay, the congress broke up without any 
 other effect than that which attends unsuccessful nego-
 
 BOOK n. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 307 
 
 tiations, the exasperating of the parties whom it was 1521. 
 intended to reconcile* 1 . 
 
 During the continuance of the congress, Wolsey, on League 
 
 pretence that the emperor himself would be more will-?? amst ,. 
 , * r ranee be- 
 
 ing to make reasonable concessions than his ministers, tween the 
 
 made an excursion to Bruges, to meet that monarch. 
 He was received by Charles, who knew his vanity, with e ' 
 as much respect and magnificence as if he had been 
 king of England. But instead of advancing the treaty 
 of peace by this interview, Wolsey, in his master's 
 name, concluded a league with the emperor against 
 Francis ; in which it was stipulated, that Charles should 
 invade France on the side of Spain, and Henry in Pi- 
 cardy, each with an army of forty thousand men ; and 
 that, in order to strengthen their union, Charles should 
 espouse the princess Mary, Henry's only child, and the 
 apparent heir of his dominions e . Henry produced no 
 better reasons for this measure, equally unjust and im- 
 politic, than the article in the treaty of London, by 
 which lie pretended that he was bound to take arms 
 against the French king as the first aggressor; and the 
 injury which he alleged Francis had done him, in per- 
 mitting the duke of Albany, the head of a faction in 
 Scotland, which opposed the interest of England, to 
 return into that kingdom. He was influenced, however, 
 by other considerations. The advantages which ac- 
 crued to his subjects from maintaining an exact neu- 
 trality, or the honour that resulted to himself from 
 acting as the arbiter between the contending princes, 
 appeared to his youthful imagination so inconsiderable, 
 when compared with the glory which might be reaped 
 from leading armies or conquering provinces, that he 
 determined to remain no longer in a state of inactivity. 
 Having once taken this resolution, his inducements to 
 prefer an alliance with Charles were obvious. He had 
 no claim upon any part of that prince's dominions, most 
 
 * P. Mart. Ep. 739. Herbert. Ryroer, Feeder. liii. Herbert.
 
 308 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1521. of which were so situated that he could not attack them 
 ~~ without great difficulty and disadvantage ; whereas se- 
 veral maritime provinces of France had been long in 
 the hands of the English monarchs, whose pretensions, 
 even to the crown of that kingdom, were not as yet 
 altogether forgotten; and the possession of Calais not 
 only gave him easy access into some of those provinces, 
 but, in case of any disaster, afforded him a secure re- 
 treat. While Charles attacked France on one frontier, 
 Henry flattered himself that he should find little resist- 
 ance on the other, and that the glory of reannexing to 
 the crown of England the ancient inheritance of its 
 monarchs on the continent, was reserved for his reign. 
 Wolsey artfully encouraged these vain hopes, which 
 led his master into such measures, as were most sub- 
 servient to his own secret schemes; and the English, 
 M'hose hereditary animosity against the French was apt 
 to rekindle on every occasion, did not disapprove of the 
 martial spirit of their sovereign. 
 
 Hostilities Meanwhile, the league between the pope and *the 
 m Italy. emperor produced great effects in Italy, and rendered 
 Lombardy the chief theatre of war. There was, at 
 that time, such contrariety between the character of 
 the French and the Italians, that the latter submitted 
 to the government of the former with greater impatience 
 than they expressed under the dominion of other fo- 
 reigners. The phlegm of the Germans and gravity of 
 the Spaniards suited their jealous temper and ceremo- 
 nious manners better than the French gaiety, too prone 
 to gallantry, and too little attentive to decorum. Lewis 
 the twelfth, however, by the equity and gentleness of 
 his administration, and by granting the Milanese more 
 extensive privileges than those they had enjoyed under 
 their native princes, had overcome, in a great measure, 
 their prejudices, and reconciled them to the French 
 government. Francis, on recovering that dutchy, did 
 not imitate the example of his predecessor. Though 
 too generous himself to oppress his people, his bound-
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 309 
 
 less confidence in his favourites, and his negligence in 1521. 
 examining into the conduct of those whom he intrusted ~ 
 with power, emboldened them to venture upon any 
 acts of oppression. The government of Milan was 
 committed by him to Odet de Foix, marechal de Lau- 
 trec, another brother of madame de Chateaubriand, an 
 officer of great experience and reputation, but haughty, 
 imperious, rapacious, and incapable either of listening 
 to advice or of bearing contradiction. His insolence The MUa- 
 and exactions totally alienated the affections of the gurted^ith 
 Milanese from France, drove many of the considerable the French 
 citizens into banishment, and forced others to retire menu" 
 for their own safety. Among the last was Jerome 
 Morone, vjcechancellor of Milan, a man whose genius 
 for intrigue and enterprise distinguished him in an age 
 and country, where violent factions, as well as frequent 
 revolutions, affording great scope for such talents, pro- 
 duced or called them forth in great abundance. He 
 repaired to Francis Sforza, whose brother Maximilian 
 he had betrayed ; and suspecting the pope's intention 
 of attacking the Milanese, although his treaty with the 
 emperor was not yet made public, he proposed to Leo, 
 in the name of Sforza, a scheme for surprising several 
 places in that dutchy by means of the exiles, who, from 
 hatred to the French, and from attachment to their 
 former masters, were ready for any desperate enter- 
 prise. Leo not only encouraged the attempt, but ad- 
 vanced a considerable sum towards the execution of it ; 
 and when, through unforeseen accidents, it failed of 
 success in every part, he allowed the exiles, who had 
 assembled in a body, to retire to Reggio, which be- 
 longed at that time to the church. The mar6chal de 
 Foix, who commanded at Milan in absence of his bro- 
 ther Lautrec, who was then in France, tempted with 
 the hopes of catching at once, as in a snare, all the 
 avowed enemies of his master's government in that 
 country, ventured to march into the ecclesiastical ter- JUM 24. 
 ritories, and tp invest Reggio. But the vigilance and
 
 310 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1521. good conduct of Guicciardini, the historian, governor 
 
 of that place, obliged the French general to abandon 
 The pope the enterprise with disgrace f . Leo on receiving this 
 against 8 intelligence, with which he was highly pleased, as it 
 Francis. furnished him a decent pretence for a rupture with 
 France, immediately assembled the consistory of car- 
 dinals. After complaining bitterly of the hostile in- 
 tentions of the French king, and magnifying the em- 
 peror's zeal for the church, of which he had given a 
 recent proof by his proceedings against Luther, he 
 declared that he was constrained in self-defence, and 
 as the only expedient for the security of the ecclesi- 
 astical state, to join his arms to those of that prince. 
 For this purpose he now pretended to conclude a 
 treaty with don John Manuel, although it had really 
 been signed some months before this time; and he 
 publicly excommunicated de Foix, as an impious in- 
 vader of St. Peter's patrimony. 
 
 War in the Leo had already begun preparations for war by 
 ese ' taking into pay a considerable body of Swiss ; but the 
 imperial troops advanced so slowly from Naples and 
 Germany, that it was the middle of autumn before the 
 army took the field under the command of Prosper 
 Colonna, the most eminent of the Italian generals, 
 whose extreme caution, the effect of long experience 
 in the art of war, was opposed with great propriety to 
 the impetuosity of the French. In the mean time, de 
 Foix despatched courier after courier to inform the 
 king of the danger which was approaching. Francis, 
 whose forces were either employed in the Low Coun- 
 tries, or assembling on the frontiers of Spain, and who 
 did not expect so sudden an attack in that quarter, 
 sent ambassadors to his allies the Swiss, to procure 
 from them the immediate levy of an additional body of 
 troops; and commanded Lautrec to repair forthwith 
 to his government. That general, who was well ac- 
 
 ( Guic. lib. xiv. 183. Mem. de Bellay, p. 38, etc.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 311 
 
 quainted with the great neglect of economy in the ad- 1521. 
 ministration of the king's finances, and who knew how ~~ 
 much the troops in the Milanese had already suffered 
 from the want of their pay, refused to set out, unless 
 the sum of three hundred thousand crowns was imme- 
 diately put into his hands. But the king, Louise of 
 Savoy, his mother, and Semblancy, the superintendent 
 of finances, having promised, even with an oath, that 
 on his arrival at Milan he should find remittances for 
 the sum which he demanded ; upon the faith of this, 
 he departed. Unhappily for France, Louise, a woman 
 deceitful, vindictive, rapacious, and capable of sacri- 
 ficing any thing to the gratification of her passions, but 
 who had acquired an absolute ascendant over her son 
 by her maternal tenderness, her care of his education, 
 and her great abilities, was resolved not to perform 
 this promise. Lautrec having incurred her displeasure 
 by his haughtiness in neglecting to pay court to her, 
 and by the freedom with which he had talked concern- 
 ing some of her adventures in gallantry, she, in order 
 to deprive him of the honour which he might have 
 gained by a successful defence of the Milanese, seized 
 the three hundred thousand crowns destined for that 
 service, and detained them for her own use. 
 
 Lautrec, notwithstanding this cruel disappointment, Progress of 
 found means to assemble a considerable army, though 
 far inferior in number to that of the confederates. He 
 adopted the plan of defence most suitable to his situa- 
 tion, avoiding a pitched battle with the greatest care, 
 while he harassed the enemy continually with his light 
 troops, beat up their quarters, intercepted their con- 
 voys, and covered or relieved every place which they 
 attempted to attack. By this prudent conduct, he not 
 only retarded their progress, but would have soon wea- 
 ried out the pope, who had hitherto defrayed almost 
 the whole expense of the war, as the emperor, whose 
 revenues in Spain were dissipated during the commo- 
 tions in that country, and who was obliged to support
 
 312 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1521. a numerous army in the Netherlands, could not make 
 ~~ any considerable remittances into Italy. But an un- 
 foreseen accident disconcerted all his measures, and 
 occasioned a fatal reverse in the French affairs. A 
 body of twelve thousand Swiss served in Lautrec's 
 army under the banners of the republic, with which 
 France was in alliance. In consequence of a law, no 
 less political than humane, established among the can- 
 tons, their troops were never hired out by public au- 
 thority to both the contending parties in any war. This 
 law, however, the love of gain had sometimes eluded, 
 and private persons had been allowed to enlist in what 
 service they pleased, though not under the public ban- 
 ners, but under those of their particular officers. The 
 cardinal of Sion, who still preserved his interest among 
 his countrymen, and his enmity to France, having pre- 
 vailed on them to connive at a levy of this kind, twelve 
 thousand Swiss, instigated by him, joined the army of 
 the confederates. But the leaders in the cantons, when 
 they saw so many of their countrymen marching under 
 the hostile standards, and ready to turn their arms 
 against each other, became so sensible of the infamy 
 to which they would be exposed by permitting this, as 
 well as the loss they might suffer, that they despatched 
 couriers, commanding their people to leave both armies, 
 and to return forthwith into their own country. The 
 cardinal of Sion, however, had the address, by cor- 
 rupting the messengers appointed to carry this order, 
 to prevent it from being delivered to the Swiss in the 
 service of the confederates ; but being intimated in due 
 form to those in the French army, they, fatigued with 
 the length of the campaign, and murmuring for want of 
 pay, instantly yielded obedience, in spite of Lautrec's 
 remonstrances and entreaties. 
 
 After the desertion of a body which formed the 
 strength of his army, Lautrec durst no longer face the 
 confederates. He retired towards Milan, encamped on 
 the banks of the Adda, and placed his chief hopes of
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 313 
 
 safety in preventing the enemy from passing that river; 1521. 
 
 an expedient for defending a country so precarious, 
 
 that there are few instances of its being employed with 
 success against any general of experience or abilities. 
 Accordingly Colonna, notwithstanding Lautrec's vigi- Become 
 lance and activity, passed the Adda with little loss, and m ** tereof 
 obliged him to shut himself up within the walls of Mi- 
 lan, which the confederates were preparing to besiege, 
 when an unknown person, who never afterwards ap- 
 peared either to boast of this service, or to claim a 
 reward for it, came from the city, and acquainted Mo- 
 rone, that if the army would advance that night, the 
 ghibelline, or imperial faction, would put them in pos- 
 session of one of the gates. Colonna, though no friend 
 to rash enterprises, allowed the marquis de Pescara to 
 advance with the Spanish infantry, and he himself fol- 
 lowed with the rest of his troops. About the beginning 
 of night, Pescara arriving at the Roman gate in the 
 suburbs, surprised the soldiers whom he found there ; 
 those posted in the fortifications adjoining to it, imme- 
 diately fled ; the marquis seizing the works which they 
 abandoned, and pushing forward incessantly, though 
 with no less caution than vigour, became master of the 
 city with little bloodshed, and almost without resist- 
 ance ; the victors being as much astonished as the van- 
 quished at the facility and success of the attempt. 
 Lautrec retired precipitately towards the Venetian 
 territories with the remains of his shattered army ; the 
 cities of the Milanese, following the fate of the capital, 
 surrendered to the confederates ; Parma and Placentia 
 were united to the ecclesiastical state ; and of all their 
 conquests in Lombardy, only the town of Cremona, the 
 castle of Milan, and a few inconsiderable forts, remainrd 
 in the hands of the French *. 
 
 Leo received the accounts of this rapid succession 
 
 t Guic. lib. iv. 190, etc. M*m. de Bellay, 42, etc. Galeacii Capella 
 de reb. gest. pro restitut. Fran. Sfortie Comment ap. Scardium, vol. ii. 
 180, etc.
 
 314 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1521. of prosperous events with such transports of joy, as 
 Death f brought on, if we may believe the French historians, 
 Leo the a slight fever, which, being neglected, occasioned his 
 
 death on the second of December, while he was still 
 of a vigorous age and at the height of his glory. By 
 this unexpected accident, the spirit of the confederacy 
 was broken, and its operations suspended. The car- 
 dinals of Sion and Medici left the army that they might 
 be present in the conclave ; the Swiss were recalled by 
 their superiors ; some other mercenaries disbanded for 
 want of pay ; and only the Spaniards, and a few Ger- 
 mans in the emperor's service, remained to defend the 
 Milanese. But Lautrec, destitute both of men and of 
 money, was unable to improve this favourable oppor- 
 tunity in the manner which he would have wished. 
 
 1522. The vigilance of Morone, and the good conduct of 
 Colonna, disappointed his feeble attempts on the Mi- 
 lanese. Guicciardini, by his address and valour, re- 
 pulsed a bolder and more dangerous attack which he 
 made on Parma h . 
 
 Adrian Great discord prevailed in the conclave, which fol- 
 
 lowed upon Leo's death, and all the arts natural to men 
 grown old in intrigue, when contending for the highest 
 prize an ecclesiastic can obtain, were practised. Wol- 
 sey's name, notwithstanding all the emperor's magnifi- 
 cent promises to favour his pretensions, of which that 
 prelate did not fail to remind him, was hardly men- 
 tioned in the conclave. Julio cardinal de' Medici, 
 Leo's nephew, who was more eminent than any other 
 member of the sacred college for his abilities, his 
 wealth, and his experience, in transacting great affairs, 
 had already secured fifteen voices, a number sufficient, 
 according to the forms of the conclave, to exclude any 
 other candidate, though not to carry his own election. 
 As he was still in the prime of life, all the aged car- 
 dinals combined against him, without being united in 
 
 h Guic. lib. xiv. 214.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 315 
 
 favour of any other person. While these factions were 1522. 
 endeavouring to gain, to corrupt, or to weary out each ~~ 
 other, Medici and his adherents voted one morning at 
 the scrutiny, which, according to form was made every 
 day, for cardinal Adrian of Utrecht, who at that time 
 governed Spain in the emperor's name. This they did 
 merely to protract time. But the adverse party in- 
 stantly closing with them, to their own amazement and 
 that of all Europe, a stranger to Italy, unknown to the 
 persons who gave their suffrages in his favour, and un- 
 acquainted with the manners of the people, or the 
 interest of the state, the government of which they 
 conferred upon him, was unanimously raised to the 
 papal throne, at a juncture so delicate and critical, as Januarys, 
 would have demanded all the sagacity and experience 
 of one of the most able prelates in the sacred college. 
 The cardinals themselves, unable to give a reason for 
 this strange choice, on account of which, as they 
 marched in procession from the conclave they were 
 loaded with insults and curses by the Roman people, 
 ascribed it to an immediate impulse of the Holy Ghost. 
 It may be imputed with greater certainty to the influ- 
 ence of don John Manuel, the imperial ambassador, 
 who by his address and intrigues facilitated the election 
 of a person devoted to his master's service, from grati- 
 tude, from interest, and from inclination 1 . 
 
 Beside the influence which Charles acquired by War re- 
 Adrian's promotion, it threw great lustre on his ad- ^"^1" 
 ministration. To bestow on his preceptor such a noble lanese. 
 recompense, and to place on the papal throne one 
 whom he had raised from obscurity, were acts of un- 
 common magnificence and power. Francis observed, 
 with the sensibility of a rival, the preeminence which 
 the emperor was gaining, and resolved to exert himself 
 with fresh vigour, in order to wrest from him his late 
 
 ' Herm. Moringi Vita Hadriani, ap. Csp. Burman. in Analect. <lc 
 Ffadr. p. 52. Conclave Hadr. ibid. p. 144, etc.
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 conquests in Italy. The Swiss, that they might make 
 ~~ some reparation to the French king, for having with- 
 drawn their troops from his army so unseasonably, as to 
 occasion the loss of the Milanese, permitted him to 
 levy ten thousand men in the republic. Together with 
 this reinforcement, Lautrec received from the king a 
 small sum of money, which enabled him once more to 
 take the field ; and, after sei/ing by surprise, or force, 
 several places in the Milanese, to advance within a few 
 miles of the capital. The confederate army was in no 
 condition to obstruct its progress; for though the in- 
 habitants of Milan, by the artifices of Morone, and by 
 the popular declamations of a monk whom he employ- 
 ed, were inflamed with such enthusiastic zeal against 
 the French government, that they consented to raise 
 extraordinary contributions, Colonna must soon have 
 abandoned the advantageous camp which he had 
 chosen at Bicocca, and have dismissed his troops for 
 want of pay, if the Swiss in the French service had not 
 once more extricated him out of his difficulties. 
 The French The insolence or caprice of those mercenaries was 
 thVbattle 111 often no less fatal to their friends, than their valour 
 of Bicocca. an( j discipline were formidable to their enemies. Hav- 
 ing now served some months without pay, of which 
 they complained loudly, a sum destined for their use 
 was sent from France under a convoy of horse ; but 
 Morone, whose vigilant eye nothing escaped, posted a 
 body of troops in their way, so that the party which 
 escorted the money durst not advance. On receiving 
 intelligence of this, the Swiss lost all patience, and 
 officers as well as soldiers, crowding around Lautrec, 
 threatened with one voice instantly to retire, if he did 
 not either advance the pay which was due, or promise 
 to lead them next morning to battle. In vain did Lau- 
 trec remonstrate against these demands, representing 
 to them the impossibility of the former, and the rash- 
 ness of the latter, which must be attended with certain 
 destruction, as the enemy occupied a camp naturally of
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 317 
 
 great strength, and which by art they had rendered 1522. 
 
 almost inaccessible. The Swiss, deaf to reason, and 
 
 persuaded that their valour was capable of surmount- 
 ing every obstacle, renewed their demand with great 
 fierceness, offering themselves to form the vanguard, 
 and to begin the attack. Lautrec, unable to overcome 
 their obstinacy, complied with their request, hoping, 
 perhaps, that some of those unforeseen accidents which 
 so o.ten determine the fate of battles might crown this 
 rash enterprise with undeserved success ; and convinced 
 that the effects of a defeat could not be more fatal than 
 those which would certainly follow upon the retreat of 
 a body which composed one half of his anny. Next May. 
 morning the Swiss were early in the field, and marched 
 with the greatest intrepidity against an enemy deeply 
 intrenched on every side, surrounded with artillery, and 
 prepared to receive them. As they advanced, they 
 sustained a furious cannonade with great firmness ; and, 
 without waiting for their own artillery, rushed impetu- 
 ously upon the intrenchments. But after incredible 
 efforts of valour, which were seconded with great spirit 
 by the French, having lost their bravest officers and 
 best soldiers, and finding that they could make no im- 
 pression on the enemy's works, they sounded a retreat ; 
 leaving the field of battle, however, like men repulsed, 
 but not vanquished, in close array, and without receiv- 
 ing any molestation from the enemy. 
 
 \t day, such as survived set out for their own Driven 
 country ; and Lautrec, despairing of being able to JJ^^*. 
 make any farther resistance, retired into France, after 
 throwing garrisons into Cremona and a few other 
 places ; all which, except the citadel of Cremona, Co- 
 lonna soon obliged to surrender. 
 
 Genoa, however, and its territories, remaining sub- lose Genoa, 
 ject to France, still gave Francis considerable footing 
 in Italy, and made it easy for him to execute any 
 scheme for the recovery of the Milanese. But Co- 
 lonna, rendered enterprising by continual success, and
 
 318 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK n. 
 
 1522. excited by the solicitations of the faction of the Adorni, 
 ~ the hereditary enemies of the Fregosi, who, under the 
 protection of France, possessed the chief authority in 
 Genoa, determined to attempt the reduction of that 
 state ; and accomplished it with amazing facility. He 
 became master of Genoa by an accident as unexpected 
 as that which had given him possession of Milan ; and, 
 almost without opposition or bloodshed, the power of 
 the Adorni, and the authority of the emperor, were 
 established in Genoa k . 
 
 Henry the Such a cruel succession of misfortunes affected Fran- 
 ciare's war c * s w ^ deep concern, which was not a little augmented 
 against by the unexpected arrival of an English herald, who, 
 May 29. ^ n the name of his sovereign, declared war in form 
 against France. This step was taken in consequence 
 of the treaty which Wolsey had concluded with the 
 emperor at Bruges, and which had hitherto been kept 
 secret. Francis, though he had reason to be surprised 
 with this denunciation, after having been at such pains 
 to sooth Henry and to gain his minister, received the 
 herald with great composure and dignity 1 ; and, with- 
 out abandoning any of the schemes which he was form- 
 ing against the emperor, began vigorous preparations 
 for resisting this new enemy. His treasury, however, 
 being exhausted by the efforts which he had already 
 made, as well as by the sums he expended on his plea- 
 sures, he had recourse to extraordinary expedients 
 for supplying it. Several new offices were created and 
 exposed to sale ; the royal demesnes were alienated ; 
 unusual taxes were imposed ; and the tomb of St. Mar- 
 tin was stripped of a rail of massive silver, with which 
 Louis the eleventh, in one of his fits of devotion, had 
 encircled it. By means of these expedients he was 
 enabled to levy a considerable army, and to put the 
 frontier towns in a good posture of defence. 
 
 k Jovii Vita Ferdin. Davali, p. 344. Guic. lib. xiv. 233. 
 1 Journal de Louise de Savoie, p. 119.
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 319 
 
 The emperor, meanwhile, was no less solicitous to 1522. 
 draw as much advantage as possible from the accession Charles 
 of such a powerful ally ; and the prosperous situation visita 
 of his affairs, at this time, permitting him to set out for 
 Spain, where his presence was extremely necessary, he 
 visited the court of England in his way to that country. 
 He proposed by this interview not only to strengthen 
 the bonds of friendship which united him with Henry, 
 and to excite him to push the war against France with 
 vigour, but hoped to remove any disgust or resentment 
 that Wolsey might have conceived on account of the 
 mortifying disappointment which he had met with in 
 the late conclave. His success exceeded his most san- 
 guine expectations; and by his artful address, during 
 a residence of six weeks in England, he gained not only 
 the king and the minister, but the nation itself. Henry, 
 whose vanity was sensibly flattered by such a visit, as 
 well as by the studied respect with which the emperor 
 treated him on every occasion, entered warmly into all 
 his schemes. The cardinal foreseeing, from Adrian's 
 age and infirmities, a sudden vacancy in the papal see, 
 dissembled or forgot his resentment; and as Charles, 
 besides augmenting the pensions which he had already 
 settled on him, renewed his promise of favouring his 
 pretensions to the papacy with all his interest, he en- 
 deavoured to merit the former, and to secure the ac- 
 complishment of the latter by fresh services. The 
 nation, sharing in the glory of its monarch, and pleased 
 with the confidence which the emperor placed in the 
 English, by creating the earl of Surrey his high-admiral, 
 discovered no less inclination to commence hostilities 
 than Henry himself. 
 
 In order to give Charles, before he left England, The Eng 
 a proof of this general ardour, Surrey sailed with 
 such forces as were ready, and ravaged the coasts of 
 Normandy. He then made a descent on Bretagne, 
 where he- plundered and burnt Morlaix, and some 
 other places of less consequence. After these slight
 
 320 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK 11. 
 
 with little 
 success. 
 
 1522. excursions, attended with greater dishonour than da- 
 mage to France, he repaired to Calais, and took the 
 command of the principal army, consisting of sixteen 
 thousand men ; with which, having joined the Flemish 
 troops under the count de Buren, he advanced into 
 Picardy. The army which Francis had assembled was 
 far inferior in number to these united bodies. But 
 during the long wars between the two nations, the 
 French had discovered the proper method of defending 
 their country against the English. They had been 
 taught by their misfortunes to avoid a pitched battle 
 with the utmost care, and to endeavour by throwing 
 garrisons into every place capable of resistance, by 
 watching all the enemy's motions, by intercepting their 
 convoys, attacking their advanced posts, and harassing 
 them continually with their numerous cavalry, to ruin 
 them with the length of the war, or to beat them by 
 piecemeal. This plan the duke of Vendome, the 
 French general in Picardy, pursued with no less pru- 
 dence than success ; and not only prevented Surrey 
 from taking any town of importance, but obliged him 
 to retire with his army greatly reduced by fatigue, by 
 want of provisions, and by the loss which it had sus- 
 tained in several unsuccessful skirmishes. 
 
 Thus ended the second campaign, in a war the most 
 general that had hitherto been kindled in Europe ; 
 and though Francis, by his mother's ill-timed resent- 
 ment, by the disgusting insolence of his general, and 
 the caprice of the mercenary troops which he employ- 
 ed, had lost his conquests in Italy, yet all the powers 
 combined against him, had not been able to make any 
 impression on his hereditary dominions ; and wherever 
 they either intended or attempted an attack, he was 
 well prepared to receive them. 
 
 Solyman's While the Christian princes were thus wasting each 
 of Tlhodes otner s strength, Solyman the magnificent entered Hun- 
 gary with a numerous army, and investing Belgrade, 
 which was deemed the chief barrier of that kingdom
 
 BOOK ii. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 321 
 
 against the Turkish arms, soon forced it to surrender. 1522. 
 Encouraged by this success, he turned his victorious ~ 
 arms against the island of Rhodes, the seat, at that 
 time, of the knights of St. John of Jerusalem. This 
 small state he attacked with such a numerous army, as 
 the lords of Asia have been accustomed, in every age, 
 to bring into the field. Two hundred thousand men, 
 and a fleet of four hundred sail, appeared against a 
 town defended by a garrison consisting of five thousand 
 soldiers, and six hundred knights, under the command 
 of Villers de 1'Isle Adam, the grand master, whose wis- 
 dom and valour rendered him worthy of that station at 
 such a dangerous juncture. No sooner did he begin 
 to suspect the destination of Solyman's vast armaments, 
 than he despatched messengers to all the Christian 
 courts, imploring their aid against the common enemy. 
 But though every prince, in that age, acknowledged 
 Rhodes to be the great bulwark of Christendom in the 
 east, and trusted to the gallantry of its knights as the 
 best security against the progress of the Ottoman arms ; 
 though Adrian, with a zeal which became the head 
 and father of the church, exhorted the contending 
 powers to forget their private quarrels, and, by uniting 
 their arms, to prevent the infidels from destroying a 
 society which did honour to the Christian name ; yet so 
 violent and implacable was the animosity of both parties, 
 that, regardless of the danger to which they exposed 
 all Europe, and unmoved by the entreaties of the 
 grand master, or the admonitions of the pope, they 
 suffered Solyman to carry on his operations against 
 Rhodes without disturbance. The grand master, after 
 incredible efforts of courage, of patience, and of mili- 
 tary conduct, during a siege of six months ; after sus- 
 taining many assaults, and disputing every post with 
 amazing obstinacy, was obliged at last to yield to num- 
 bers ; and, having obtained an honourable capitulation 
 from the sultan, who admired and respected his virtue, 
 he surrendered the town, which was reduced to a heap 
 
 VOL. III. V
 
 322 THE REIGN OF THE, ETC. BOOK n. 
 
 1522. of rubbish, and destitute of every resource" 1 . Charles 
 ~~ and Francis, ashamed of having occasioned such a loss 
 to Christendom by their ambitious contests, endeavoured 
 to throw the blame of it on each other, while all Eu- 
 rope, with greater justice, imputed it equally to both. 
 The emperor, by way of reparation, granted the 
 knights of St. John the small island of Malta, in which 
 they fixed their residence, retaining, though with less 
 power and splendour, their ancient spirit, and implaca- 
 ble enmity to the infidels. 
 
 m Fontanus de Bello Rhodio, ap. Scard. Script. Rer. German, vol. ii. p. 
 88. P.Barre. Hist. d'Allem. tome viii. 57.
 
 THE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 / 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROR 
 
 CHARLES THE FIFTH. 
 
 THE THIRD BOOK. 
 
 OHARLES, having had the satisfaction of seeing 1522. 
 hostilities begun between France and England, took Civil war 
 leave of Henry, and arrived in Spain on the seven- Castile, 
 teenth of June. He found that country just beginning 
 to recover order and strength after the miseries of a 
 civil war, to which it had been exposed during his 
 absence ; an account of the rise and progress of which, 
 as it was but little connected with the other events 
 which happened in Europe, hath been reserved to this 
 place. 
 
 No sooner was it known that the cortes assembled in Jnsurrec- 
 Galicia had voted the emperor a ' free gift,' without j"^ . 
 obtaining the redress of any one grievance, than it ex- 
 cited universal indignation. The citizens of Toledo, May, 1520. 
 who considered themselves, on account of the great 
 privileges which they enjoyed, as guardians of the li- 
 berties of the Castilian commons, finding that no regard 
 was paid to the remonstrances of their deputies against 
 that unconstitutional grant, took arms with tumultuary 
 violence, and, seizing the gates of the city, which were 
 fortified, attacked the alcazar, or castle, which they 
 soon obliged the governor to surrender. Emboldened 
 by this success, they deprived of all authority every
 
 324 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1522. person whom they suspected of any attachment to the 
 court, estahlished a popular form of government, com- 
 posed of deputies from the several parishes in the city, 
 and levied troops in their own defence. The chief 
 leader of the people, in these insurrections, was don 
 John de Padilla, the eldest son of the commendator of 
 Castile, a young nobleman of a generous temper, of 
 undaunted courage, and possessed of the talents, as 
 well as of the amhition, which, in times of civil discord, 
 raise men to power and eminence H . 
 
 of Segovia. The resentment of the citizens of Segovia produced 
 effects still more fatal. Tordesillas, one of their repre- 
 sentatives in the late cortes, had voted for the donative ; 
 and, being a bold and haughty man, ventured, upon his 
 return, to call together his fellow-citizens in the great 
 church, that he might give them, according to custom, 
 an account of his conduct in that assembly. But the 
 multitude, unable to bear his insolence, in attempting 
 to justify what they thought inexcusable, burst open 
 the gates of the church with the utmost fury, and, 
 seizing the unhappy Tordesillas, dragged him through 
 the streets, with a thousand curses and insults, towards 
 the place of public execution. In vain did the dean 
 and canons come forth in procession with the holy sa- 
 crament, in order to appease their rage. In vain did 
 the monks of those monasteries by which they passed, 
 conjure them, on their knees, to spare his h'fe, or at 
 least to allow him time to confess, and to receive absolu- 
 tion of his sins. Without listening to the dictates either 
 of humanity or religion, they cried out, " That the 
 hangman alone could absolve such a traitor to his coun- 
 try :" they then hurried him along with greater violence ; 
 and perceiving that he had expired under their hands, 
 they hung him up with his head downwards on the 
 common gibbet b . The same spirit seized the inhabi- 
 tants of Burgos, Zamora, and several other cities ; and 
 
 Sandov. p. 77. b P. Mart. Ep. 671.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 
 
 though their representatives, taking warning from the 1522. 
 fate of Tordesillas, had been so wise as to save them- "" 
 selves by a timely flight, they were burnt in effigy, 
 their houses razed to the ground, and their effects con- 
 sumed with fire ; and such was the horrour, which the 
 people had conceived against them, as betrayers of the 
 public liberty, that not one in those licentious multi- 
 tudes would touch any tiling, however valuable, which 
 had belonged to them c . 
 
 Adrian, at that time regent of Spain, had scarcely Measures 
 fixed the seat of his government at Valladolid, when he "n^j"*^ 
 was alarmed with an account of these insurrections, punish 
 He immediately assembled the privy council to deli- j u e n ' 5j 
 berate concerning the proper method of suppressing 
 them. The counsellors differed in opinion; some in- 
 sisting that it was necessary to check this audacious 
 spirit in its infancy by a severe execution of justice; 
 others advising to treat with lenity a people who had 
 some reason to be incensed, and not to drive them be- 
 yond all the bounds of duty by an ill-timed rigour. 
 The sentiments of the former being warmly supported 
 by the archbishop of Granada, president of the council, 
 a person of great authority, but choleric and impetuous, 
 were approved by Adrian, whose zeal to support his 
 master's authority hurried him into a measure, to which, 
 from his natural caution and timidity, he would other- 
 wise have been averse. He commanded Ronquillo, one 
 of the king's judges, to repair instantly to Segovia, 
 which had set the first example of mutiny, and to pro- 
 ceed against the delinquents according to law ; and, 
 lest the people should be so outrageous as to resist his 
 authority, a considerable body of troops was appointed 
 to attend him. The Segovians, foreseeing what they 
 miiiht expect from a judge so well known for his austere 
 and unforgiving temper, took arms with one consent, 
 
 . 
 
 and having mustered twelve thousand men, shut their at Segovia. 
 c Sandov. 10:3. P. Marl. Kj>. 67 .
 
 326 THE UEIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1522. gates against him. Ronquillo, enraged at this insult, 
 
 denounced them rebels and outlaws, and, his troops 
 seizing all the avenues to the town, hoped that it would 
 soon be obliged to surrender for want of provisions. 
 The inhabitants, however, defended themselves with 
 vigour ; and, having received a considerable reinforce- 
 ment from Toledo, under the command of Padilla, 
 attacked Ronquillo, and forced him to retire with the 
 loss of his baggage and military chest d . 
 
 and at .Me- Upon this, Adrian ordered Antonio de Fonseca, 
 dmadel whom the emperor had appointed commander in chief 
 of the forces in Castile, to assemble an army, and to 
 besiege Segovia in form. But the inhabitants of Me- 
 dina del Campo, where cardinal Ximenes had esta- 
 blished a vast magazine of military stores, would not 
 suffer him to draw from it a train of battering cannon, 
 or to destroy their countrymen with those arms which 
 had been prepared against the enemies of the kingdom. 
 Fonseca, who could not execute his orders without 
 artillery, determined to seize the magazine by force ; 
 and the citizens standing on their defence, he assaulted 
 the town with great briskness ; but his troops were so 
 warmly received, that, despairing of carrying the place, 
 Aug. 21. he set fire to some of the houses, in hopes that the ci- 
 tizens would abandon the walls in order to save their 
 families and effects. Instead of that, the expedient to 
 which he had recourse served only to increase their 
 fury, and he was repulsed with great disgrace ; while 
 the flames, spreading from street to street, reduced to 
 ashes almost the whole town, one of the most consider- 
 able at that time in Spain, and the great mart for the 
 manufactories of Segovia and several other cities. As 
 the warehouses were then filled with goods for the ap- 
 proaching fair, the loss was immense, and was felt uni- 
 versally. This, added to the impression which such a 
 cruel action made on a people long unaccustomed to 
 
 d Sandov. 112. P. Mart. Ep. 679. Miniana, Contin. p. 15.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 327 
 
 the horrours of civil war, enraged the Castilians almost 1522. 
 to madness. Fonseca became the object of general ~~ 
 hatred, and was branded with the name of incendiary, 
 and enemy to his country. Even the citizens of Valla- 
 dolid, whom the presence of the cardinal had hitherto 
 restrained, declared that they could no longer remain 
 inactive spectators of the sufferings of their country- 
 men. Taking arms with no less fury than the other 
 cities, they burnt Fonseca's house to the ground, elect- 
 ed new magistrates, raised soldiers, appointed officers 
 to command them, and guarded their walls with as 
 much diligence as if an enemy had been ready to attack 
 them. 
 
 The cardinal, though virtuous and disinterested, and Adrian dis- 
 capable of governing the kingdom with honour in times 
 of tranquillity, possessed neither the courage nor the 
 sagacity necessary at such a dangerous juncture. Find- 
 ing himself unable to check these outrages, committed 
 under his own eye, he attempted to appease the peo- 
 ple, by protesting that Fonseca had exceeded his or- 
 ders, and had by his rash conduct offended him, as 
 much as he had injured them. This condescension, 
 the effect of irresolution and timidity, rendered the 
 malecontents bolder and more insolent ; and the car- 
 dinal having soon after recalled Fonseca, and dismissed 
 his troops, which he could no longer afford to pay, as 
 the treasury, drained by the rapaciousness of the Flem- 
 ish ministers, had received no supply from the great 
 cities, which were all in arms, the people were left at 
 full liberty to act without control, and scarcely any 
 shadow of power remained in his hands. 
 
 Nor were the proceedings of the commons the effect The view* 
 merely of popular and tumultuary rage; they aimed at felons of 
 obtaining redress of their political grievances, and an th "- 
 
 . . . moos of 
 
 establishment of public liberty on a secure basis, ob- entile. 
 jects worthy of all the zeal which they discovered in 
 contending for them. The feudal government in Spain 
 was, at that time, in a state more favourable to liberty
 
 328 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK HI. 
 
 1522. than in any other of the great European kingdoms. 
 ~ This was owing chiefly to the number of great cities 
 in that country; a circumstance I have already taken 
 notice of, and which contributes more than any other 
 to mitigate the rigour of the feudal institutions, and 
 to introduce a more liberal and equal form of govern- 
 ment. The inhabitants of every city formed a great 
 corporation, with valuable immunities and privileges; 
 they were delivered from a state of subjection and vas- 
 salage ; they were admitted to a considerable share in 
 the legislature ; they had acquired the arts of industry, 
 without which cities cannot subsist ; they had accumu- 
 lated wealth, by engaging in commerce ; and, being 
 free and independent themselves, were ever ready to 
 act as the guardians of the public freedom and inde- 
 pendence. The genius of the internal government es- 
 tablished among the inhabitants of cities, which, even 
 in countries where despotic power prevails most, is 
 democratical and republican, rendered the idea of li- 
 berty familiar and dear to them. Their representatives 
 in the cortes were accustomed, with equal spirit, to 
 check the encroachments of the king and the oppres- 
 sion of the nobles. They endeavoured to extend the 
 privileges of their own order ; they laboured to shake 
 off' the remaining incumbrances with which the spirit 
 of feudal policy, favourable only to the nobles, had 
 burthened them; and conscious of being one of the 
 most considerable orders in the state, were ambitious 
 of becoming the most powerful. 
 
 Their con- The present juncture appeared favourable for push- 
 thename b of * n & anv new c l ami< Their sovereign was absent from 
 
 the holy his dominions ; by the ill conduct of his ministers he 
 had lost the esteem and affection of his subjects; the 
 people, exasperated by many injuries, had taken arms, 
 though without concert, almost by general consent; 
 they were animated with rage capable of carrying them 
 to the most violent extremes; the royal treasury was 
 exhausted ; the kingdom destitute of troops ; and the
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 329 
 
 government committed to a stranger, of great virtue 15-22. 
 indeed, but of abilities unequal to such a trust. The ~ 
 first care of Padilla, and the other popular leaders 
 who observed and determined to improve these cir- 
 cumstances, was to establish some form of union or as- 
 sociation among the malecontents, that they might act 
 with greater regularity, and pursue one common end ; 
 and as the different cities had been prompted to take 
 arms by the same motives, and were accustomed to 
 consider themselves as a distinct body from the rest of 
 the subjects, they did not find this difficult. A general 
 convention was appointed to be held at Avila. De- 
 puties appeared there in name of almost all the cities 
 entitled to have representatives in the cortes. They 
 all bound themselves, by solemn oath, to live and die 
 in the service of the king, and in defence of the privi- 
 leges of their order; and assuming the name of the 
 * holy junta,' or association, proceeded to deliberate 
 concerning the state of the nation, and the proper 
 method of redressing its grievances. The first that They dis- 
 naturally presented itself was the nomination of a fo- Adrian's 
 reigner to be regent ; this they declared with one voice authority ; 
 to be a violation of the fundamental laws of the king- 
 dom, and resolved to send a deputation of their mem- 
 bers to Adrian, requiring him in their name to lay 
 aside all the ensigns of his office, and to abstain for 
 the future from the exercise of a jurisdiction which 
 they had pronounced illegal". 
 
 While they were preparing to execute this bold re- get pos- 
 solution, Padilla accomplished an enterprise of the 
 greatest advantage to the cause. After relieving Se- 
 govia, he marched suddenly to Tordesillas, the place 
 where the unhappy queen Joanna had resided since 
 the death of her husband, and, being favoured by the 
 inhabitants, was admitted into the town, and became 
 master of her person, for the security of which Adrian 
 
 P. Mirt. Ep. 691.
 
 330 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1522. had neglected to take proper precautions'. Padil!a 
 ~~ waited immediately Upon the queen, and, accosting her 
 with that profound respect which she exacted from the 
 few persons whom she deigned to admit into her pre- 
 sence, acquainted her at large with the miserable con- 
 dition of her Castilian subjects under the government 
 of her son, who being destitute of experience himself, 
 permitted his foreign ministers to treat them with such 
 rigour as had obliged them to take arms in defence of 
 the liberties of their country. The queen, as if she 
 had been awakened out of a lethargy, expressed great 
 astonishment at what he said, and told him, that as she 
 had never heard, until that moment, of the death of 
 her father, or known the sufferings of her people, no 
 blame could be imputed to her, but that now she would 
 take care to provide a sufficient remedy ; " and in the 
 mean time," added she, " let it be your concern to do 
 what is necessary for the public welfare." Padilla, too 
 eager in 'forming a conclusion agreeable to his wishes, 
 mistook this lucid interval of reason for a perfect return 
 of that faculty ; and, acquainting the junta with what 
 had happened, advised them to remove to Tordesillas, 
 and to hold their meetings in that place. This was 
 instantly done ; but though Joanna received very gra- 
 ciously an address of the junta, beseeching her to take 
 upon herself the government of the kingdom, and, in 
 token of her compliance, admitted all the deputies to 
 kiss her hand; though she was present at a tourna- 
 ment held on that occasion, and seemed highly satis- 
 fied with both these ceremonies, which were conducted 
 with great magnificence in order to please her; she 
 soon relapsed into her former melancholy and sullen- 
 ness, and could never be brought, by any arguments 
 or entreaties, to sign any one paper necessary for the 
 despatch of business g . 
 
 f Vita dell' Imper. Car. V. dell' Alf. Ulloa. Yen. 1509, p. 67. Miuiana, 
 Contin. p. 17. 
 Sandov. 164. P. Mart. E P . 685, 686.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 331 
 
 The junta, concealing as much as possible this last 1522. 
 circumstance, carried on all their deliberations in the c on 
 name of Joanna ; and as the Castilians, who idolized govern- 
 the memory of Isabella, retained a wonderful attach- ua me, 
 ment to her daughter, no sooner was it known that she 
 had consented to assume the reins of government, than 
 the people expressed the most universal and immode- 
 rate joy ; and, believing her recovery to be complete, 
 ascribed it to a miraculous interposition of heaven, in 
 order to rescue their country from the oppression of 
 foreigners. The junta, conscious of the reputation and deprive 
 and power which they had acquired by seeming to 
 act under the royal authority, were no longer satisfied 
 with requiring Adrian to resign the office of regent; 
 they detached Padilla to Valladolid with a consider- 
 able body of troops, ordering him to seize such mem- 
 bers of the council as were still in that city, to conduct 
 them to Tordesillas, and to bring away the seals of 
 the kingdom, the public archives, and treasury books. 
 Padilla, who was received by the citizens as the de- 
 liverer of his country, executed his commission with 
 great exactness ; permitting Adrian, however, still to 
 reside in Valladolid, though only as a private person, 
 and without any shadow of power b . 
 
 The emperor, to whom frequent accounts of these The em- 
 transactions were transmitted while he was still in 
 Flanders, was sensible of his own imprudence, and 
 that of his ministers, in having despised too long the 
 murmurs and remonstrances of the Castilians. He 
 beheld, with deep concern, a kingdom the most valu- 
 able of any he possessed, and in which lay the strength 
 and sinews of his power, just ready to disown his 
 authority, and on the point of being plunged in all 
 the miseries of civil war. But though his presence 
 might have averted this calamity, he could not, at that 
 time, visit Spain without endangering the imperial 
 
 Sandov. 174. P. Mart. Ep. 791.
 
 332 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK HI. 
 
 152-2. 
 
 His mea- 
 sures with 
 respect to 
 the male- 
 contents. 
 
 The large 
 remon- 
 strance of 
 the junta 
 concerning 
 their griev- 
 ances. 
 
 crown, and allowing the French king full leisure to 
 execute his ambitious schemes. The only point now 
 to be deliberated upon, was, whether he should at- 
 tempt to gain the malecontents by indulgence and 
 concessions, or prepare directly to suppress them by 
 force; and he resolved to make trial of the former, 
 while, at the same time, if that should fail of success, 
 he prepared for the latter. For this purpose, he issued 
 circular letters to all the cities of Castile, exhorting 
 them in most gentle terms, and with assurances of full 
 pardon, to lay down their arms ; he promised such 
 cities as had continued faithful, not to exact from them 
 the subsidy granted in the late cortes, and offered the 
 same favour to such as returned to their duty ; he en- 
 gaged that no office should be conferred for the future 
 upon any but native Castilians. On the other hand, 
 he wrote to the nobles, exciting them to appear with 
 vigour in defence of their own rights, and those of the 
 crown, against the exorbitant claims of the commons ; 
 he appointed the high admiral don Fadrique Enri- 
 quez, and the high constable of Castile, don Inigo de 
 Valasco, two noblemen of great abilities as well as in- 
 fluence, regents of the kingdom in conjunction with 
 Adrian; and he gave them full power and instructions, 
 if the obstinacy of the malecontents should render it 
 necessary, to vindicate the royal authority by force of 
 arms '. 
 
 These concessions, which, at the time of his leaving 
 Spain, would have fully satisfied the people, came now 
 too late to produce any effect. The junta, relying on 
 the unanimity with which the nation submitted to their 
 authority, elated with the success which hitherto had 
 accompanied all their undertakings, and seeing no mi- 
 litary force collected to defeat or obstruct their designs, 
 aimed at a more thorough reformation of political 
 abuses. They had been employed, for some time, in 
 
 1 P. Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. viii. c. 6. p. 188.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 333 
 
 preparing a remonstrance, containing a large enume- 1522. 
 ration not only of the grievances of which they craved ~~ 
 redress, but of such new regulations as they thought 
 necessary for the security of their liberties. This 
 remonstrance, which is divided into many articles, re- 
 lating to all the different members of which the con- 
 stitution was composed, as well as the various depart- 
 ments in the administration of government, furnishes 
 us with more authentic evidence concerning the in- 
 tentions of the junta, than can be drawn from the 
 testimony of the later Spanish historians, who lived in 
 times when it became fashionable, and even necessary, 
 to represent the conduct of the malecontents in the 
 worst light, and as flowing from the worst motives. 
 After a long preamble concerning the various cala- 
 mities under which the nation groaned, and the errours 
 and corruption in government to which these were to 
 be imputed, they take notice of the exemplary patience 
 wherewith the people had endured them, until self- 
 preservation, and the duty which they owed to their 
 country, had obliged them to assemble, in order to 
 provide in a legal manner for their own safety, and 
 that of the constitution: for this purpose they de- 
 manded that the king would be pleased to return to 
 his Spanish dominions and reside there, as all their 
 former monarchs had done ; that he would not marry 
 but with consent of the cortes; that if he should 
 be obliged at any time to leave the kingdom, it shall 
 not be lawful to appoint any foreigner to be regent; 
 that the present nomination of cardinal Adrian to that 
 office shall instantly be declared void ; that he would 
 not, at his return, bring along with him any Flemings 
 or other strangers ; that no foreign troops shall, on any 
 pretence whatever, be introduced into the kingdom; 
 that none but natives shall be capable of holding any 
 office or benefice either in church or state; that no 
 foreigner shall be naturalized ; that free quarters shall 
 not be granted to soldiers, nor to the members of the
 
 334 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK HI. 
 
 1522. king's household, for any longer time than six days, 
 ~~ and that only when the court is in a progress ; that all 
 the taxes shall be reduced to the same state they were 
 in at the death of queen Isabella ; that all alienations 
 of the royal demesnes or revenues since the queen's 
 death shall be resumed ; that all new offices created 
 since that period shall be abolished ; that the subsidy 
 granted by the late cortes in Galicia shall not be ex- 
 acted ; that in all future cortes each city shall send 
 one representative of the clergy, one of the gentry, and 
 one of the commons, each to be elected by his own 
 order; that the crown shall not influence or direct any 
 city with regard to the choice of its representatives ; 
 that no member of the cortes shall receive an office 
 or pension from the king, either for himself or for any 
 of his family, under pain of death, and confiscation of 
 his goods ; that each city or community shall pay a 
 competent salary to its representative for his mainte- 
 nance during his attendance on the cortes ; that the 
 cortes shall assemble once in three years at least, whe- 
 ther summoned by the king or not, and shall then 
 inquire into the observation of the articles now agreed 
 upon, and deliberate concerning public affairs ; that 
 the rewards which have been given or promised to any 
 of the members of the cortes held in Galicia, shall be 
 revoked ; that it shall be declared a capital crime to 
 send gold, silver, or jewels out of the kingdom ; that 
 judges shall have fixed salaries assigned them, and 
 shall not receive any share of the fines and forfeitures 
 of persons condemned by them ; that no grant of the 
 goods of persons accused shall be valid, if given before 
 sentence was pronounced against them ; that all pri- 
 vileges which the nobles have at any time obtained, 
 to the prejudice of the commons, shah 1 be revoked ; that 
 the government of cities or towns shall not be put into 
 the hands of noblemen ; that the possessions of the 
 nobility shall be subject to all public taxes in the same 
 manner as those of the commons ; that an inquiry be
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 335 
 
 made into the conduct of such as have been intrusted 152-2. 
 with the management of the royal patrimony since the 
 accession of Ferdinand ; and if the king do not within 
 thirty days appoint persons properly qualified for that 
 service, it shall be lawful for the cortes to nominate 
 them ; that indulgences shall not be preached or dis- 
 persed in the kingdom until the cause of publishing 
 them be examined and approved of by the cortes ; that 
 all the money arising from the sale of indulgences shall 
 be faithfully employed in carrying on war against the 
 infidels ; that such prelates as do not reside in their 
 dioceses six months in the year, shall forfeit their 
 revenues during the time they are absent; that the 
 ecclesiastical judges and their officers shall not exact 
 greater fees than those which are paid in the secular 
 courts ; that the present archbishop of Toledo, being 
 a foreigner, be compelled to resign that dignity, which 
 shall be conferred upon a Castilian ; that the king shall 
 ratify and hold, as good service done to him and to the 
 kingdom, all the proceedings of the junta, and pardon 
 any irregularities which the cities may have committed 
 from an excess of zeal in a good cause : that he shall 
 promise and swear in the most solemn manner to ob- 
 serve all these articles, and on no occasion attempt 
 either to elude or to repeal them ; and that he shall 
 never solicit the pope or any other prelate to grant 
 him a dispensation or absolution from this oath and 
 promise k . 
 
 Such were the chief articles presented by the junta The spirit 
 to their sovereign. As the feudal institutions in the jS^s? 
 several kingdoms of Europe were originally the same, breathed, 
 the genius of those governments which arose from them 
 bore a strong resemblance to each other, and the re- 
 gulations which the Castilians attempted to establish 
 on this occasion, differ little from those which other 
 nations have laboured to procure in their struggles 
 
 k Sandov. 206. P. Mart. Ep. 686.
 
 336 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1522. with their monarchs for liberty. The grievances com- 
 ~ plained of, and the remedies proposed by the English 
 commons in their contests with the princes of the house 
 of Stuart, particularly resemble those upon which the 
 junta now insisted. But the principles of liberty seem 
 to have been better understood, at this period, by the 
 Castilians, than by any other people in Europe ; they 
 had acquired more liberal ideas with respect to their 
 own rights and privileges ; they had formed more bold 
 and generous sentiments concerning government; and 
 discovered an extent of political knowledge to which 
 the English themselves did not attain until more than 
 a century afterwards. 
 
 It is not improbable, however, that the spirit of re- 
 formation among the Castilians, hitherto unrestrained 
 by authority, and emboldened by success, became too 
 impetuous, and prompted the junta to propose inno- 
 vations which, by alarming the other members of the 
 constitution, proved fatal to their cause. The nobles, 
 who, instead of obstructing, had favoured or connived 
 at their proceedings, while they confined their demands 
 of redress to such grievances as had been occasioned 
 by the king's want of experience, and by the impru- 
 dence and rapaciousness of his foreign ministers, were 
 irritates the filled with indignation when the junta began to touch 
 es< the privileges of their order, and plainly saw that the 
 measures of the Commons tended no less to break the 
 power of the aristocracy, than to limit the prerogatives 
 of the crown. The resentment which they had con- 
 ceived on account of Adrian's promotion to the re- 
 gency, abated considerably upon the emperor's raising 
 the constable and admiral to joint power with him in 
 that office ; and as their pride and dignity were less 
 hurt by suffering the prince to possess an extensive 
 prerogative, than by admitting the high pretensions of 
 the people, they determined to give their sovereign the 
 assistance which he had demanded of them, and began 
 to assemble their vassals for that purpose.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 337 
 
 The junta, meanwhile, expected with impatience the 1522. 
 emperor's answer to their remonstrance, which they The de 
 had appointed some of their number to present. The ties of the 
 members intrusted with this commission set out imme- ioTpresent 
 diately for Germany ; but having received at different their 
 places certain intelligence from court, that they could strances. 
 not venture to appear there without endangering their Oct * 20 ' 
 lives, they stopped short in their journey, and ac- 
 quainted the junta of the information which had been 
 given them 1 . This excited such violent passions as 
 transported the whole party beyond all bounds of pru- 
 dence or of moderation. That a king of Castile should 
 deny his subjects access into his presence, or refuse to 
 listen to their humble petitions, was represented as an 
 act of tyranny so unprecedented and intolerable, that 
 nothing now remained but with arms in their hands to 
 drive away that ravenous band of foreigners which en- 
 compassed the throne, who, after having devoured the 
 wealth of the kingdom, found it necessary to prevent 
 the cries of an injured people from reaching the ears 
 of their sovereign. Many insisted warmly on approving Violent 
 a motion which had formerly been made, for depriving { 
 Charles, during the life of his mother, of the regal junta, 
 titles and authority which had been too rashly con- 
 ferred upon him, from a false supposition of her total 
 inability for government. Some proposed to provide 
 a proper person to assist her in the administration of 
 public affairs, by marrying the queen to the prince of 
 Calabria, the heir of the Aragonese kings of Naples, 
 who had been detained in prison since the time that 
 Ferdinand had dispossessed his ancestors of their 
 crown. All agreed that, as the hopes of obtaining 
 redress and security merely by presenting their re- 
 quests to their sovereign, had kept them too long in 
 a state of inaction, and prevented them from taking 
 
 ' Sandov. 143. 
 VOL. III. Z
 
 338 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK m. 
 
 1522. advantage of the unanimity with which the nation de- 
 
 ~ clared in their favour, it was now necessary to collect 
 
 their whole force, and to exert themselves with vigour, 
 
 in opposing this fatal combination of the king and the 
 
 nobility against their liberties m . 
 
 They take They soon took the field with twenty thousand men. 
 eld ' Violent disputes arose concerning the command of this 
 army. Padilla, the darling of the people and soldiers, 
 was the only person whom they thought worthy of this 
 honour. But don Pedro de Giron, the eldest son of 
 the conde de Uruena, a young nobleman of the first 
 order, having lately joined the commons out of private 
 resentment against the emperor, the respect due to his 
 
 Nov. 23. birth, together with a secret desire of disappointing 
 Padilla, of whose popularity many members of the 
 junta had become jealous, procured him the office of 
 general ; though he soon gave them a fatal proof that 
 he possessed neither the experience, the abilities, nor 
 the steadiness which that important station required. 
 
 The regents The regents, meanwhile, appointed Rioseco as the 
 
 and nobles p] ace o f rendezvous for their troops, which, though 
 far inferior to those of the commons in number, ex- 
 celled them greatly in discipline and in valour. They 
 had drawn a considerable body of regular and veteran 
 infantry out of Navarre. Their cavalry, which formed 
 the chief strength of their army, consisted mostly of 
 gentlemen accustomed to the military life, and ani- 
 mated with the martial spirit peculiar to their order 
 in that age. The infantry of the junta was formed 
 entirely of citizens and mechanics, little acquainted 
 with the use of arms. The small body of cavalry 
 which they had been able to raise, was composed of 
 persons of ignoble birth, and perfect strangers to the 
 service into which they entered. The character of 
 the generals differed no less than that of their troops. 
 
 m P. Mart. Ep. 688.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 339 
 
 The royalists were commanded by the conde de Haro, 1522. 
 
 the constable's eldest son, an officer of great expe- ~~ 
 
 rience and of distinguished abilities. 
 
 Giron marched with his army directly to Rioseco, imprudence 
 and, seizing the villages and passes around it, hoped } JJJ~ 
 that the royalists would be obliged either to surrender general of 
 for want of provisions, or to fight with disadvantage * 
 before all their troops were assembled. But he had 
 not the abilities, nor his troops the patience and dis- 
 cipline, necessary for the execution of such a scheme. 
 The conde de Haro found little difficulty in conduct- 
 ing a considerable reinforcement through all his posts 
 into the town ; and Giron, despairing of being able 
 to reduce it, advanced suddenly to Villapanda, a place 
 belonging to the constable, in which the enemy had 
 their chief magazine of provisions. By this ill-judged 
 motion he left Tordesillas open to the royalists, whom 
 the conde de Haro led thither in the night, with the 
 utmost secrecy and despatch ; and attacking the town, Decemb.5. 
 in which Giron had left no other garrison than a re- 
 giment of priests, raised by the bishop of Zamora, he, 
 by break of day, forced his way into it after a desperate 
 resistance, became master of the queen's person, took 
 prisoners many members of the junta, and recovered 
 the great seal, with the other ensigns of government. 
 
 By this fatal blow, the junta lost all the reputation 
 and authority which they had derived from seeming 
 to act by the queen's commands ; such of the nobles 
 as had hitherto been wavering or undetermined in 
 their choice, now joined the regents, with all their 
 forces ; and an universal consternation seized the par- 
 tizans of the commons. This was much increased by 
 the suspicions they began to entertain of Giron, whom 
 they loudly accused of having betrayed Tordesillas to 
 the enemy ; and though that charge seems to have 
 been destitute of foundation, the success of the royal- 
 ists being owing to Giron's ill conduct rather than to 
 his treachery, he so entirely lost credit with his party, 
 
 I*
 
 340 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK m. 
 
 1522. 
 
 The junta 
 adhere to 
 their sys- 
 tem. 
 
 Their ex- 
 pedients 
 for raising 
 money : 
 
 that he resigned his commission, and retired to one 
 of his castles n . 
 
 Such members of the junta as had escaped the 
 enemy's hands at Tordesillas, fled to Valladolid ; and 
 as it would have required long time to supply the 
 places of those who were prisoners by a new election, 
 they made choice among themselves of a small number 
 of persons, to whom they committed the supreme di- 
 rection of affairs. Their army, which grew stronger 
 every day by the arrival of troops from different parts 
 of the kingdom, marched likewise to Valladolid; and 
 Padilla being appointed commander in chief, the spi- 
 rits of the soldiery revived ; and the whole party, for- 
 getting the late misfortune, continued to express the 
 same ardent zeal for the liberties of their country, and 
 the same implacable animosity against their oppressors. 
 
 What they stood most in need of, was money to pay 
 their troops. A great part of the current coin had 
 been carried out of the kingdom by the Flemings ; the 
 stated taxes levied in times of peace were inconsider- 
 able; commerce of every kind being interrupted by 
 the war, the sum which it yielded decreased daily; 
 and the junta were afraid of disgusting the people by 
 burthening them with new impositions, to which, in 
 that age, they were little accustomed. But from this 
 difficulty they were extricated by donna Maria Pacheco, 
 Padilla's wife, a woman of noble birth, of great abili- 
 ties, of boundless ambition, and animated with the 
 most ardent zeal in support of the cause of the junta. 
 She, with a boldness superior to those superstitious 
 fears which often influence her sex, proposed to seize 
 all the rich and magnificent ornaments in the cathedral 
 of Toledo ; but lest that action, by its appearance of 
 impiety, might offend the people, she and her retinue 
 marched to the church in solemn procession, in mourn- 
 ing habits, with tears in their eyes, beating their 
 
 n Miscellaneous Tracts by Dr. Mich. Geddes, vol. i. p. 278.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 341 
 
 breasts, and, falling on their knees, implored the par- 1522. 
 don of the saints whose shrines she was about to vio- 
 late. By this artifice, which screened her from the 
 imputation of sacrilege, and persuaded the people that 
 necessity and zeal for a good cause had constrained 
 her, though with reluctance, to venture upon this ac- 
 tion, she stripped the cathedral of whatever was valu- 
 able, and procured a considerable sum of money for 
 the junta . The regents, no less at a loss how to 
 maintain their troops, the revenues of the crown hav- 
 ing either been dissipated by the Flemings or seized 
 by the commons, were obliged to take the queen's jew- 
 els, together with the plate belonging to the nobility, 
 and apply them to that purpose ; and when those fail- 
 ed, they obtained a small sum, by way of loan, from 
 the king of Portugal p . 
 
 The nobility discovered great unwillingness to pro- lose time 
 ceed to extremities with the junta. They were ani- [^^|Jh 
 mated with no less hatred than the commons against the nobi- 
 the Flemings ; they approved much of several articles 
 in the remonstrance; they thought the juncture favour- 
 able, not only for redressing past grievances, but for 
 rendering the constitution more perfect and secure by 
 new regulations ; they were afraid, that while the two 
 orders, of which the legislature was composed, wasted 
 each other's strength by mutual hostilities, the crown 
 would rise to power on the ruin or weakness of both, 
 and encroach no less on the independence of the no- 
 bles, than on the privileges of the commons. To this 
 disposition were owing the frequent overtures of peace 
 which the regents made to the junta, and the continual 
 negotiations they carried on during the progress of 
 their military operations. Nor were the terms which 
 they offered unreasonable ; for, on condition that the 
 junta would pass from a few articles most subversive 
 of the royal authority, or inconsistent with the rights 
 
 Sandov. 308. Did. de Bayle, art. Padilla. P P. Mart. Kp. 718.
 
 342 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK m. 
 
 1522. of the nobility, they engaged to procure the emperor's 
 consent to their other demands ; which if he, through 
 the influence of evil counsellors, should refuse, several 
 of the nobles promised to join with the commons in 
 their endeavours to extort it q . Such divisions, how- 
 ever, prevailed among the members of the junta, as 
 prevented their deliberating calmly, or judging with 
 prudence. Some of the cities which had entered into 
 the confederacy, were filled with that mean jealousy 
 and distrust of each other, which rivalship in com- 
 merce or in grandeur is apt to inspire ; the constable, 
 by his influence and promises, had prevailed on the 
 inhabitants of Burgos to abandon the junta, and other 
 noblemen had shaken the fidelity of some of the lesser 
 cities ; no person had arisen among the commons of 
 such superior abilities or elevation of mind as to ac- 
 quire the direction of their affairs ; Padilla, their ge- 
 neral, was a man of popular qualities, but distrusted 
 for that reason by those of highest rank who adhered 
 to the junta ; the conduct of Giron led the people to 
 view with suspicion every person of noble birth who 
 joined their party; so that the strongest marks of irre- 
 solution, mutual distrust, and mediocrity of genius, ap- 
 peared in all their proceedings at this time. After 
 many consultations held concerning the terms proposed 
 by the regents, they suffered themselves to be so car- 
 ried away by resentment against the nobility, that, re- 
 jecting all thoughts of accommodation, they threatened 
 to strip them of the crown lands, which they or their 
 ancestors had usurped, and to reannex these to the 
 royal domain. Upon this preposterous scheme, which 
 would at once have annihilated all the liberties for 
 which they had been struggling, by rendering the 
 kings of Castile absolute and independent on their sub- 
 jects, they were so intent, that they now exclaimed 
 with less vehemence against the exactions of the fo- 
 
 i P. Mart. Ep. 695. 713. Geddes's Tracts, i. 261.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 343 
 
 reign ministers, than against the exorbitant power and 1522. 
 wealth of the nobles, and seemed to hope that they ~ 
 might make peace with Charles, by offering to enrich 
 him with their spoils. 
 
 The success which Padilla had met with in several Elated 
 
 small rencounters, and in reducing some inconsiderable Wllh their 
 
 success in 
 
 towns, helped to precipitate the members of the junta *> small 
 into this measure, filling them with such confidence in e^. C 
 the valour of their troops, that they hoped for an easy 
 victory over the royalists. Padilla, that his army might 
 not remain inactive while flushed with good fortune, 
 laid siege to Torrelobaton, a place of greater strength 
 and importance than any that he had hitherto ventured 
 to attack, and which was defended by a sufficient gar- 
 rison ; and though the besieged made a desperate re- 
 sistance, and the admiral attempted to relieve them, he March 1, 
 took the town by storm, and gave it up to be plun- 1521< 
 dered by his soldiers. If he had marched instantly 
 with his victorious army to Tordesillas, the head-quar- 
 ters of the royalists, he could hardly have failed of 
 making an effectual impression on their troops, whom 
 he would have found in astonishment at the briskness 
 of his operations, and far from being of sufficient 
 strength to give him battle. But the fickleness and 
 imprudence of the junta prevented his taking this step. 
 Incapable, like all popular associations, either of carry- Impni- 
 ing on war or making peace, they listened again to 
 overtures of accommodation, and even agreed to a duct, 
 short suspension of arms. This negotiation terminated 
 in nothing ; but while it was carrying on, many of Pa- 
 dilhi's soldiers, unacquainted with the restraints of dis- 
 cipline, went off with the booty which they had got at 
 Torrelobaton ; and others, wearied out by the unusual 
 1( -until of the campaign, deserted r . The constable too 
 had leisure to assemble his forces at Burgos, and to 
 prepare every thing for taking the field ; and as soon 
 as the truce expired, he effected a junction with the 
 
 ' Sandov. 336.
 
 344 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK HI. 
 
 1522. conde de Haro, in spite of all Padilla's efforts to pre- 
 ~~ vent it. They advanced immediately towards Torre- 
 lobaton ; and Padilla, finding the number of his troops 
 so diminished that he durst not risk a battle, at- 
 tempted to retreat to Toro ; which if he could have 
 accomplished, the invasion of Navarre at that juncture 
 by the French, and the necessity which the regents 
 must have been under of detaching men to that king- 
 The nobles dom, might have saved him from danger. But Haro, 
 army of sensible how fatal the consequences would be of suffer- 
 
 the junta; ing him to escape, marched with such rapidity at the 
 April 23. , , , . 
 
 head of his cavalry, that he came up with him near 
 
 Villalar, and, without waiting for his infantry, advanced 
 to the attack. Padilla's army, fatigued and disheart- 
 ened by their precipitant retreat, which they could not 
 distinguish from a flight, happened at that time to be 
 passing over a ploughed field, on which such a violent 
 rain had fallen, that the soldiers sunk almost to the 
 knees at every step, and remained exposed -to the fire 
 of some field-pieces which the royalists had brought 
 along with them. All these circumstances so discon- 
 certed and intimidated raw soldiers, that, without fa- 
 and defeat cing the enemy, or making any resistance, they fled in 
 the utmost confusion. Padilla exerted himself with 
 extraordinary courage and activity in order to rally 
 them, though in vain; fear rendering them deaf both 
 to his threats and entreaties. Upon which, finding 
 matters irretrievable, and resolving not to survive the 
 disgrace of that day, and the ruin of his party, he 
 rushed into the thickest of the enemy; but being 
 wounded and dismounted, he was taken prisoner. His 
 principal officers shared the same fate; the common 
 soldiers were allowed to depart unhurt, the nobles 
 being too generous to kill men who threw down their 
 arms s . 
 
 Sandov. 345, etc. P. Mart. Ep. 720. Miniana, Contin. p. 26. Epi- 
 tome de la Vida y Hechos del Emper. Carlos V. por D. Juan Anton, de 
 Vera y Zuniga, 4to. Madr. 1627. p. 19.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 845 
 
 The resentment of his enemies did not suffer Padilla 1523. 
 to linger long in expectation of what should befall him. 
 Next day he was condemned to lose his head, though 
 without any regular trial, the notoriety of the crime 
 being supposed sufficient to supersede the formality of 
 a legal process. He was led instantly to execution, Padilla, 
 together with don John Bravo, and don Francis Mai- th f ir 8ff 
 
 raJ| pu 
 
 donada, the former commander of the Segovians, and death. 
 the latter of the troops of Salamanca. Padilla viewed 
 the approach of death with calm but undaunted forti- 
 tude; and when Bravo, his fellow-sufferer, expressed 
 some indignation at hearing himself proclaimed a trai- 
 tor, he checked him, by observing, " That yesterday 
 was the time to have displayed the spirit of gentlemen, 
 this day to die with the meekness of Christians." Being 
 permitted to write to his wife and to the community of 
 Toledo, the place of his nativity, he addressed the 
 former with a manly and virtuous tenderness, and the 
 latter with the exultation natural to one who consi- 
 dered himself as a martyr for the liberties of his coun- 
 try*. After this, he submitted quietly to his fate. 
 
 ' The strain of these letters is so eloquent and high-spirited, that I have 
 translated them for the entertainment of my readers : 
 
 THE LETTER OF DON JOHN PADILLA TO HIS WIPE. 
 
 " SENOBA, 
 
 " If your grief did not afflict me more than my own death, I should 
 deem myself perfectly happy. For the end of life being certain to all men, 
 the Almighty confers a mark of distinguishing favour upon that person, for 
 whom he appoints a death such as mine, which, though lamented by 
 many, is nevertheless acceptable unto him. It would require more time 
 than I now have, to write any thing that could afford you consolation. 
 That my enemies will not grant me, nor do I wish to delay the reception 
 of that crown which I hope to enjoy. You may bewail your own loss, but 
 not my death, which, being so honourable, ought not to be lamented by 
 any. My soul, for nothing else is left to me, I bequeath to you. You will 
 receive it, as the thing in this world which you value most. I do not write 
 to my father Pero Lopez, because I, dare not; for though I have shown 
 myself to be his son in daring to lose my life, I have not been the heir of 
 bis good fortune. I will not attempt to say any thing more, that I may 
 not tire the executioner, who waits for me ; and that I tnmy not excite a
 
 34<3 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1522. Most of the Spanish historians, accustomed to ideas of 
 government, and of regal power, very different from 
 those upon which he acted, have been so eager to tes- 
 tify their disapprobation of the cause in which he was 
 engaged, that they have neglected, or have been afraid, 
 to do justice to his virtues; and, by blackening his 
 memory, have endeavoured to deprive him of that pity, 
 which is seldom denied to illustrious sufferers. 
 Ruin of The victory at Villalar proved as decisive as it was 
 
 P art y- complete. Valladolid, the most zealous of all the asso- 
 ciated cities, opened its gates immediately to the con- 
 querors ; and being treated with great clemency by the 
 regents, Medina del Campo, Segovia, and many other 
 tov.-ns, followed its example. This sudden dissolution 
 of a confederacy, formed not upon slight disgusts, or 
 upon trifling motives, into which the whole body of the 
 
 suspicion, that, in order to prolong my life, I lengthen out my letter. My 
 servant Sosia, an eyewitness, and to whom I have communicated my most 
 secret thoughts, will inform you of what I cannot now write ; and thus I 
 rest, expecting the instrument of your grief, and of my deliverance." 
 
 HIS LETTER TO THE CITY OF TOLEDO. 
 
 " To thee, the crown of Spain, and the light of the whole world, free 
 from the time of the mighty Goths : to thee, who, by shedding the blood of 
 strangers, as well as thy own blood, hast recovered liberty for thyself and 
 thy neighbouring cities, thy legitimate son, Juan de Padilla, gives informa- 
 tion, how by the blood of his body thy ancient victories are to be refreshed. 
 If fate hath not permitted my actions to be placed among your successful 
 and celebrated exploits, the fault hath been in my ill fortune, not in my 
 good will. This I request of thee, as of a mother, to accept, since God 
 hath given me nothing more to lose for thy sake, than that which I am now 
 to relinquish. I am more solicitous about thy good opinion than about my 
 own life. The shiftings of fortune, which never stands still, are many: 
 but this I see with infinite consolation, that I, the least of thy children, 
 suffer death for thee ; and that thou hast nursed at thy breasts such as may 
 take vengeance for my wrongs. Many tongues will relate the manner of 
 my death, of which 1 am still ignorant, though I know it to be near. My 
 end will testify what was my desire. My soul I recommend to thee as to 
 the patroness of Christianity. Of my body I say nothing, for it is not mine. 
 I can write nothing more, for at this very moment I feel the knife at my 
 throat, with greater dread of thy displeasure, than apprehension of my own 
 pain." Sandov. Hist. vol. i. p. 478.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 347 
 
 people had entered, and which had been allowed time 1522. 
 to acquire a considerable degree of order and consist- 
 ence by establishing a regular plan of government, is 
 the strongest proof either of the inability of its leaders, 
 or of some secret discord reigning among its members. 
 Though part of that army by which they had been 
 subdued, was obliged, a few days after the battle, to 
 march towards Navarre, in order to check the pro- 
 gress of the French in that kingdom, nothing could 
 prevail on the dejected commons of Castile to take 
 arms again, and to embrace such a favourable oppor- 
 tunity of acquiring those rights and privileges for which 
 they had appeared so zealous. The city of Toledo Padilla's 
 alone, animated by donna Maria Pacheco, Padilla's 7 lf * d .?,~ 
 
 fends lo- 
 
 \\idow, who, instead of bewailing her husband with a ledo with 
 womanish sorrow, prepared to revenge his death, and great 8plnt * 
 to prosecute that cause in defence of which he had 
 suffered, must be excepted. Respect for her sex, or 
 admiration for her courage and abilities, as well as 
 sympathy with her misfortunes, and veneration for the 
 memory of her husband, secured her the same ascend- 
 ant over the people which he had possessed. The 
 prudence and vigour with which she acted, justified 
 that confidence they placed in her. She wrote to the 
 French general in Navarre, encouraging him to invade 
 Castile by the offer of powerful assistance. She en- 
 deavoured by her letters and emissaries to revive the 
 spirit and hopes of the other cities. She raised sol- 
 diers, and exacted a great sum from the clergy belong- 
 ing to the cathedral, in order to defray the expense of 
 keeping them on foot ". She employed every artifice 
 that could interest or inflame the populace. For this 
 purpose she ordered crucifixes to be used by her 
 troops instead of colours, as if they had been at war 
 with the infidels and enemies of religion; she marclud 
 through the streets of Toledo with her son, a young 
 
 P. Mart. Ep. 727.
 
 348 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1523. child, clad in deep mourning, seated on a mule, having 
 a standard carried before him, representing the man- 
 ner of his father's execution x . By all these means she 
 kept the minds ,of the people in such perpetual agita- 
 tion as prevented their passions from subsiding, and 
 rendered them insensible of the dangers to which they 
 were exposed, by standing alone in opposition to the 
 royal authority. While the army was employed in 
 Navarre, the regents were unable to attempt the re- 
 duction of Toledo by force ; and all their endeavours, 
 either to diminish donna Maria's credit with the peo- 
 ple, or to gain her by large promises and the solicita- 
 tions of her brother the marquis de Mondeiar, proved 
 ineffectual. Upon the expulsion of the French out of 
 Navarre, part of the army returned into Castile, and 
 invested Toledo. Even this made no impression on 
 the intrepid and obstinate courage of donna Maria. 
 She defended the town with vigour, her troops in se- 
 veral sallies beat the royalists, and no progress was 
 made towards reducing the place, until the clergy, 
 whom she had highly offended by invading their pro- 
 perty, ceased to support her. As soon as they received 
 information of the death of William de Croy, arch- 
 bishop of Toledo, whose possession of that see was 
 their chief grievance, and that the emperor had named 
 a Castilian to succeed him, they openly turned against 
 her, and persuaded the people that she had acquired 
 such influence over them by the force- of enchantments, 
 that she was assisted by a familiar demon which at- 
 tended her in the form of a negro-maid, and that by 
 its suggestions she regulated every part of her con- 
 duct y . The credulous multitude, whom their impa- 
 tience of a long blockade, and despair of obtaining 
 succours either from the cities formerly in confederacy 
 with them, or from the French, rendered desirous of 
 peace, took arms against her, and, driving her out of 
 
 * Sandov. 375. P. Mart. Ep. 727.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 340 
 
 the city, surrendered it to the royalists. She retired 1522. 
 to the citadel, which she defended with amazing forti- OcU26 
 tude four months longer; and when reduced to the 
 last extremities, she made her escape hi disguise, and 
 fled to Portugal, where she had many relations 2 . 
 
 Upon her flight the citadel surrendered. Tranquil- Feb. 10, 
 lity was reestablished in Castile ; and this bold attempt 52 ^ 
 of the commons, like all unsuccessful insurrections, fects of the 
 contributed to confirm and extend the power of the war * 
 crown, which it was intended to moderate and abridge. 
 The cortes still continued to make a part of the Cas- 
 tilian constitution, and was summoned to meet when- 
 ever the king stood in need of money ; but instead of 
 adhering to their ancient and cautious form of examin- 
 ing and redressing public grievances before they pro- 
 ceeded to grant any supply, the more courtly custom 
 of voting a donative in the first place was introduced, 
 and the sovereign, having obtained all that he wanted, 
 never allowed them to enter into any inquiry, or to 
 attempt any reformation injurious to his authority. 
 The privileges which the cities had enjoyed were 
 gradually circumscribed or abolished ; their commerce 
 began from this period to decline ; and becoming less 
 wealthy and less populous, they lost that power and 
 influence which they had acquired in the cortes. 
 
 While Castile was exposed to the calamities of civil The pro- 
 war, the kingdom of Valencia was torn by intestine 
 
 commotions still more violent. The association which tions in 
 had been formed in the city of Valencia in the year one 
 thousand five hundred and twenty, and which was dis- 
 tinguished by the name of the ' germanada/ continued 
 to subsist after the emperor's departure from Spain. 
 The members of it, upon pretext of defending the 
 coasts against the descents of the corsairs of Barbary, 
 and under sanction of that permission, which Charles 
 had rashly granted them, refused to lay down their 
 
 * Sandov. 375. P. Mart. Kp. 754. Ferrer, viii. 563.
 
 350 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK HI. 
 
 1522. arms. But as the grievances, which the Valencians 
 "" aimed at redressing, proceeded from the arrogance and 
 exactions of the nobility, rather than from any un- 
 warrantable exercise of the royal prerogative, their 
 resentment turned chiefly against the former. As soon 
 as they were allowed the use of arms, and became con- 
 scious of their own strength, they grew impatient to 
 take vengeance of their oppressors. They drove the 
 nobles out of most of the cities, plundered their houses, 
 wasted their lands, and assaulted their castles. They 
 then proceeded to elect thirteen persons, one from each 
 company of tradesmen established at Valencia, and 
 committed the administration of government to them, 
 under pretext that they would reform the laws, esta- 
 blish one uniform mode of dispensing justice, without 
 partiality or regard to the distinction of ranks, and 
 thus restore men to some degree of their original 
 equality. 
 
 The nobles were obliged to take arms in self-de- 
 fence. Hostilities began, and were carried on with all 
 the rancour with which resentment at oppression in- 
 spired the one party, and the idea of insulted dignity 
 animated the other. As no person of honourable birth, 
 or of liberal education, joined the germanada, the 
 councils as well as troops of the confederacy were con- 
 ducted by low mechanics, who acquired the confidence 
 of an enraged multitude chiefly by the fierceness of 
 their zeal and the extravagance of their proceedings. 
 Among such men, the laws introduced in civilized na- 
 tions, in order to restrain or moderate the violence of 
 war, were unknown or despised ; and they ran into the 
 wildest excesses of cruelty and outrage. 
 
 The emperor, occupied with suppressing the insur- 
 rection in Castile, which more immediately threatened 
 the subversion of his power and prerogative, was un- 
 able to give much attention to the tumults in Valencia, 
 and left the nobility of that kingdom to fight their own 
 battles. His viceroy, the conde de Melito, had the
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 351 
 
 supreme command of the forces which the nobles raised 
 among the vassals. The germanada carried on the war 
 during the years one thousand five hundred and twenty 
 and twenty-one, with a more persevering courage, than 
 could have been expected from a body so tumultuary, 
 under the conduct of such leaders. They defeated the 
 nobility in several actions, which, though not consider- 
 able, were extremely sharp. They repulsed them in 
 their attempts to reduce different towns. But the 
 nobles, by their superior skill in war, and at the 
 head of troops more accustomed to service, gained the 
 advantage in most of the rencounters. At length they 
 were joined by a body of Castilian cavalry, which the 
 regents despatched towards Valencia, soon after their 
 victory over Padilla at Villalar, and by their assistance 
 the Valencian nobles acquired such superiority, that 
 they entirely broke and ruined the germanada. The 
 leaders of the party were put to death, almost without 
 any formality of legal trial, and suffered such cruel 
 punishments, as the sense of recent injuries prompted 
 their adversaries to inflict. The government of Valen- 
 cia was reestablished in its ancient form *. 
 
 In Aragon, violent symptoms of the same spirit of Appear- 
 disaffection and sedition, which reigned in the other 
 kingdoms of Spain, began to appear ; but by the pru- 
 dent conduct of the viceroy, don John de Lanusa, they 
 were so far composed as to prevent their breaking out 
 into any open insurrection. But in the island of Ma- Fonnid- 
 jorca, annexed to the crown of Aragon, the same 
 causes which had excited the commotions in Valencia, 
 produced effects no less violent. The people, im- 
 patient of the hardships which they had endured under 
 the rigid jurisdiction of the nobility, took arms in a 
 tumultuary manner; deposed their viceroy ; drove him March 19, 
 out of the island ; and massacred every gentleman who li 
 
 Argensola, Annalcs dc Aragon, cap. 75. 90. 99. 118. Sayai, Annalet 
 
 de Aragon, cap. 5. 12, etc. P. Mart. Ep. lib. xxxiii. et xxxir. ! - 
 
 Ferrer. Hist. d'Espagne, viii. 642. 664, etc.
 
 352 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 the male- 
 contents. 
 
 1522. was so unfortunate as to fall into their hands. The 
 ~~ obstinacy with which the people of Majorca persisted 
 in their rebellion, was equal to the rage with which 
 they began it. Many and vigorous efforts were requi- 
 site in order to reduce them to obedience; and tran- 
 quillity was reestablished in every part of Spain, before 
 the Majorcans could be brought to submit to their 
 sovereign b . 
 
 Causes While the spirit of disaffection was so general among 
 
 vented P th 6 * ne Spaniards, and so many causes concurred in preci- 
 union of pitating them into such violent measures, in order to 
 obtain the redress of their grievances, it may appear 
 strange, that the malecontents in the different kingdoms 
 should have carried on their operations without any mu- 
 tual concert, or even any intercourse with each other. 
 By uniting their councils and arms, they might have 
 acted both with greater force and with more effect. The 
 appearance of a national confederacy would have ren- 
 dered it no less respectable among the people than for- 
 midable to the crown ; and the emperor, unable to resist 
 such a combination, must have complied with any terms 
 which the members of it should have thought fit to 
 prescribe. Many things, however, prevented the Spa- 
 niards from forming themselves into one body, and 
 pursuing common measures. The people of the dif- 
 ferent kingdoms in Spain, though they were become 
 the subjects of the same sovereign, retained, in full 
 force, their national antipathy to each other. The 
 remembrance of their ancient rivalship and hostilities 
 was still lively, and the sense of reciprocal injuries so 
 strong as to prevent them from acting with confidence 
 and concert. Each nation chose rather to depend on 
 its own efforts, and to maintain the struggle alone, 
 than to implore the aid of neighbours whom they dis- 
 trusted and hated. At the same time, the forms of 
 
 b Argensola, Annales de Aragon, cap. 113. Ferrer. Hist. viii. 542. 
 Sayas, Annales de Aragon, cap. 7. 11. 14. 76. 81. Ferreras, Hist. d'Es- 
 pagne, viii. 579, etc. 609.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 353 
 
 government in the several kingdoms of Spain were so 1522. 
 different, and the grievances of which they complained, ~~ 
 as well as the alterations and amendments in policy 
 which they attempted to introduce, so various, that it 
 was not easy to bring them to unite in any common 
 plan. To this disunion Charles was indebted for the 
 preservation of the Spanish crowns ; and while each of 
 the kingdoms followed separate measures, they were 
 all obliged at last to conform to the will of their sove- 
 reign. 
 
 The arrival of the emperor in Spain filled his sub- The empe- 
 jects who had been in arms against him with deep d r n * j^' 
 apprehensions, from which he soon delivered them by generous 
 an act of clemency, no less prudent than generous, towards the 
 After a rebellion so general, scarcely twenty persons, malecon - 
 among so many criminals obnoxious to the law, had 
 been punished capitally in Castile. Though strongly 
 solicited by his council, Charles refused to shed any 
 more blood by the hands of the executioner ; and pub- 
 lished a general pardon, extending to all crimes conv Octob. 28. 
 mitted since the commencement of the insurrections, 
 from which only fourscore persons were excepted. 
 Even these he seems to have named, rather with an in- 
 tention to intimidate others, than from any inclination 
 to seize them ; for, when an officious courtier offered 
 to inform him where one of the most considerable 
 among them was concealed, he avoided it by a good- 
 natured pleasantry : " Go," says he, " I have now no 
 reason to be afraid of that man ; but he has some cause 
 to keep at a distance from me, and you would be 
 better employed in telling him that I am here, than in 
 acquainting me with the place of his retreat"." By this 
 appearance of magnanimity, as well as by his care to 
 avoid every thing which had disgusted the Castilians 
 during his former residence among them ; by his ad- 
 
 r Sandov. 377, etc. Vida del Emper. Carlo*, por Don Juan Anton, de 
 Vera y Zuniga, p. 30. 
 
 VOL. III. A a
 
 35 * THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1522. dress in assuming their manners, in speaking their 
 ~~ language, and in complying with all their humours and 
 customs, he acquired an ascendant over them which 
 hardly any of their native monarchs had ever attained, 
 and brought them to support him in all his enterprises 
 with a zeal and valour to which he owed much of his 
 success and grandeur d . 
 
 Adrian sets About the time that Charles landed in Spain, Adrian 
 Rom" and set out ^ or I ta ty to ta ^ e possession of his new dignity, 
 his ill re- But though the Roman people longed extremely for 
 there! I" 8 arrival, they could not, on his first appearance, 
 conceal their surprise and disappointment. After being 
 accustomed to the princely magnificence of Julius, and 
 the elegant splendour of Leo, they beheld with con- 
 tempt an old man of an humble deportment, of austere 
 manners, an enemy to pomp, destitute of taste in the 
 arts, and unadorned with any of the external accom- 
 plishments which the vulgar expect in those raised to 
 eminent stations 6 . Nor did his political views and 
 maxims seem less strange and astonishing to the ponti- 
 fical ministers. He acknowledged and bewailed the 
 corruptions which abounded in the church, as well as 
 in the court of Rome, and prepared to reform both ; 
 he discovered no intention of aggrandizing his family ; 
 he even scrupled at retaining such territories as some 
 of his predecessors had acquired by violence or fraud, 
 rather than by any legal title ; and for that reason he 
 invested Francesco Maria de Rovere anew in the 
 dutchy of Urbino, of which Leo had stripped him, and 
 surrendered to the duke of Ferrara several places 
 wrested from him by the church f . To men little 
 habituated to see princes regulate their conduct by the 
 maxims of morality and the principles of justice, these 
 actions of the new pope appeared incontestable proofs 
 of his weakness or inexperience. Adrian, who was a 
 
 d Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V. p. 85. 
 
 Guic. lib. xv. 238. Jovii Vita Adriani, 117. Bellefor. Epistr. des 
 Princes, 84. f Guic. lib. 240.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 355 
 
 perfect stranger to the complex ami intricate system of 1522. 
 
 Italian politics, and who could place no confidence in 
 
 persons whose subtile refinements in business suited so 
 ill with the natural simplicity and candour of his own 
 character, being often embarrassed and irresolute in his 
 deliberations, the opinion of his incapacity daily in- 
 creased, until both his person and government became 
 objects of ridicule among his subjects g . 
 
 Adrian, though devoted to the emperor, endeavour- He endea- 
 ed to assume the impartiality which became the com- v . ours to rc ~ 
 
 1 f store peace 
 
 mon father of Christendom, and laboured to reconcile n Europe, 
 the contending princes, in order that they might unite 
 in a league against Solyman, whose conquest of Rhodes 
 rendered him more formidable than ever to Europe 11 . 
 But this was an undertaking far beyond his abilities. 
 To examine such a variety of pretensions, to adjust 
 such a number of interfering interests, to extinguish 
 the passions which ambition, emulation, and mutual in- 
 juries had kindled, to bring so many hostile powers to 
 pursue the same scheme with unanimity and vigour, 
 required not only uprightness of intention, but great 
 superiority both of understanding and address. 
 
 The Italian states were no less desirous of peace 
 than the pope. The imperial army under Colonna was 
 still kept on foot; but as the emperor's revenues in 
 Spain, in Naples, and in the Low Countries, were 
 either exhausted or applied to some other purpose, it 
 depended entirely for pay and subsistence on the Ita- 
 lians. A great part of it was quartered in the eccle- 
 siastical state, and monthly contributions were levied 
 upon the Florentines, the Milanese, the Genoese, and 
 Lucchese, by the viceroy of Naples ; and though all 
 exclaimed against such oppression, and were impatient 
 to be delivered from it, the dread of worse conse- 
 quences from the rage of the army, or the resentment 
 of the emperor, obliged them to submit '. 
 
 * Jov. Vita Adr. 118. P. Mart. Ep. 774. Rwcelli, Letter* de* Princ. 
 vol. i. 87. 96. 101. h Reliefer. Epistr. p. 86. ' Guic. lib. xv. 238.
 
 35G THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1523. So much regard, however, was paid to the pope's ex- 
 Anew hortations, and to a bull which he issued, requiring all 
 league christian princes to consent to a truce for three years, 
 
 against the . . IIT- i IT-TI 
 
 French that the imperial, the r rencli, and English ambassadors 
 
 at Rome were empowered by their respective courts to 
 treat of that matter ; but while they wasted their time 
 in fruitless negotiations, their masters continued their 
 preparations for war. The Venetians, who had hi- 
 therto adhered with great firmness to their alliance 
 with Francis, being now convinced that his affairs in 
 Italy were in a desperate situation, entered into a league 
 against him with the emperor ; to which Adrian, at the 
 June 28. instigation of his countryman and friend Charles de 
 Lannoy, viceroy of Naples, who persuaded him that 
 the only obstacles to peace arose from the ambition of 
 the French king, soon after acceded. The other Ita- 
 lian states followed their example ; and Francis was 
 left without a single ally to resist the. efforts of so many 
 enemies, whose armies threatened, and whose territo- 
 ries encompassed, his dominions on every side k . 
 Francis's The dread of this powerful confederacy, it was 
 measures in thought, would have obliged Francis to keep wholly 
 opposition on t ne defensive, or at least have prevented his enter- 
 taining any thoughts of marching into Italy. But it 
 was the character of that prince, too apt to become re- 
 miss and even negligent on ordinary occasions, to rouse 
 at the approach of danger, and not only to encounter 
 it with spirit and intrepidity, qualities which never for- 
 sook him, but to provide against it with diligence and 
 industry. Before his enemies were ready to execute 
 any of their schemes, Francis had assembled a numer- 
 ous army. His authority over his own subjects was far 
 greater than that which Charles or Henry possessed 
 over theirs. They depended on their diets, their 
 cortes, and their parliaments, for money, which was 
 usually granted them in small sums, very slowly, and 
 
 k Guic. lib. xv. 241.248.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 357 
 
 with much reluctance. The taxes he could impose 1523. 
 were more considerahle, and levied with greater de- ~~ 
 spatch ; so that, on this, as well as on other occasions, 
 he brought his armies into the field while they were 
 only devising ways and means for raising theirs. Sen- 
 sible of this advantage, Francis hoped to disconcert all 
 the emperor's schemes by marching in person into the 
 Milanese ; and this bold measure, the more formidable 
 because unexpected, could scarcely have failed of pro- 
 ducing that effect. But when the vanguard of his suspended 
 army had already reached Lyons, and he himself was j{^ iv the 
 hastening after it with a second division of his troops, theconsta- 
 
 Kl U 
 
 the discovery of a domestic conspiracy, which threat- ^ n ' s , 
 ened the ruin of the kingdom, obliged him to stop *p irac y- 
 short, and to alter his measures. 
 
 The author of this dangerous plot was Charles duke His cha- 
 of Bourbon, lord high constable, whose noble birth, ra 
 vast fortune, and high office, raised him to be the most 
 powerful subject in France, as his great talents, equally 
 suited to the field or the council, and his signal ser- 
 vices to the crown, rendered him the most illustrious 
 and deserving. The near resemblance between the 
 king and him in many of their qualities, both being 
 fond of war, and ambitious to excel in manly exercises, 
 as well as their equality in age, and their proximity of 
 blood, ought naturally to have secured to him a consi- 
 derable share in that monarch's favour. But unhappily The causes 
 Louise, the king's mother, had contracted a violent 
 aversion to the house of Bourbon, for no better reason 
 than because Anne of Bretagne, the queen of Louis 
 the twelfth, with whom she lived in perpetual enmity, 
 had discovered a peculiar attachment to that branch of 
 the royal family ; and had taught her son, who was too 
 susceptible of any impression which his mother gave 
 him, to view all the constable's actions with a mean and 
 unbecoming jealousy. His distinguished merit at the 
 battlp of Marignano had not been sufficiently reward- 
 ed; he had been recalled from the government of
 
 358 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK m. 
 
 1523. Milan upon very frivolous pretences, and had met with 
 ~~ a cold reception, which his prudent conduct in that 
 difficult station did not deserve ; the payment of his 
 pensions had been suspended without any good cause ; 
 and during the campaign of one thousand five hundred 
 and twenty-one, the king, as has already been related, 
 had affronted him in presence of the whole army, by 
 giving the command of the van to the duke of Alen- 
 on. The constable, at first, bore these indignities 
 with greater moderation than could have been ex- 
 pected from an high-spirited prince, conscious of what 
 was due to his rank and to his services. Such a mul- 
 tiplicity of injuries, however, exhausted his patience ; 
 and inspiring him with thoughts of revenge, he retired 
 from court, and began to hold a secret correspondence 
 with some of the emperor's ministers. 
 
 About that time the dutchess of Bourbon happened 
 to die without leaving any children. Louise, of a dis- 
 position no less amorous than vindictive, and still sus- 
 ceptible of the tender passions at the age of forty-six, 
 began to view the constable, a prince as amiable as he 
 was accomplished, with other eyes ; and notwithstand- 
 ing the great disparity of their years, she formed the 
 scheme of marrying him. Bourbon, who might have 
 expected every thing to which an ambitious mind can 
 aspire, from the doting fondness of a woman who go- 
 verned her son and the kingdom, being incapable either 
 of imitating the queen in her sudden transition from 
 hatred to love, or of dissembling so meanly as to pre- 
 tend affection for one who had persecuted him so long 
 with unprovoked malice, not only rejected the match, 
 but imbittered his refusal by some severe raillery on 
 Louise's person and character. She finding herself not 
 only contemned, but insulted, her disappointed love 
 turned into hatred, and since she could not marry, she 
 resolved to ruin Bourbon. 
 
 For this purpose she consulted with the chancellor 
 du Prat, a man, who, by a base prostitution of great
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 359 
 
 talents and of superior skill in his profession, had risen 1523. 
 to that high office. By his advice a lawsuit was com- 
 menced against the constable, for the whole estate be- 
 longing to the house of Bourbon. Part of it was 
 claimed in the king's name, as having fallen to the 
 crown; part in that of Louise, as the nearest heir in 
 blood of the deceased dutchess. Both these claims 
 were equally destitute of any foundation in justice ; but 
 Louise, by her solicitations and authority, and du Prat, 
 by employing all the artifices and chicanery of law, 
 prevailed on the judges to order the estate to be se- 
 questered. This unjust decision drove the constable 
 to despair, and to measures which despair alone could 
 have dictated. He renewed his intrigues in the impe- His secret 
 rial court; and, flattering himself that the injuries ^f^ O 
 which he had suffered would justify his having re- emperor 
 course to any means in order to obtain revenge, he 
 offered to transfer his allegiance from his natural sove- 
 reign to the emperor, and to assist him in the conquest 
 of France. Charles, as well as the king of England, 
 to whom the secret was communicated ', expecting pro- 
 digious advantages from his revolt, were ready to re- 
 ceive him with open arms, and spared neither promises 
 nor allurements which might help to confirm him in his 
 resolution. The emperor offered him in marriage his 
 sister Eleanor, the widow of the king of Portugal, with 
 an ample portion. He was included as a principal in 
 the treaty between Charles and Henry. The counties 
 of Provence and Dauphine were to be settled on him, 
 with the title of king. The emperor engaged to enter 
 France by the Pyrenees, and Henry, supported by the 
 Flemings, to 'invade Picardy; while twelve thousand 
 Germans, levied at their common charge, were to pe- 
 netrate into Burgundy, and to act in concert with 
 Bourbon, who undertook to raise six thousand men 
 among his friends and vassals in the heart of the king- 
 
 ' Ky liter's Feeder, xiii. 794.
 
 3GO THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1523. dom. The execution of this deep-laid and dangerous 
 ~ plot was suspended, until the king should cross the 
 Alps with the only army capable of defending his do- 
 minions ; and as he was far advanced in his march for 
 that purpose, France was on the brink of destruction m . 
 
 discovered: Happily for that kingdom, a negotiation which had 
 now been carrying on for several months, though con- 
 ducted with the most profound secrecy, and commu- 
 nicated only to a few chosen confidents, could not alto- 
 gether escape the observation of the rest of the con- 
 stable's numerous retainers, rendered more inquisitive 
 by finding that they were distrusted. Two of these 
 gave the king some intimation of a mysterious corre- 
 spondence between their master and the count de 
 Rceux, a Flemish nobleman of great confidence with 
 the emperor. Francis, who could not bring himself to 
 suspect that the first prince of the blood would be so 
 base as to betray the kingdom to its enemies, imme- 
 diately repaired to Moulins, where the constable was 
 in bed, feigning indisposition, that he might not be 
 obliged to accompany the king into Italy, and ac- 
 quainted him of the intelligence which he had re- 
 ceived. Bourbon, with great solemnity, and the most 
 imposing affectation of ingenuity and candour, asserted 
 his own innocence; and as his health, be said, was now 
 more confirmed, he promised to join the army within a 
 few days. Francis, open and candid himself, and too 
 apt to be deceived by the appearance of those virtues 
 in others, gave such credit to what he said, that he re- 
 fused to arrest him, although advised to take that pre- 
 caution by his wisest counsellors ; and, as if the danger 
 had been over, he continued his march towards Lyons. 
 
 September. The constable set out soon after, seemingly with an in- 
 tention to follow him ; but turning suddenly to the left 
 
 flies to Italy, he crossed the Rhone, and, after infinite fatigue and 
 peril, escaped all the parties which the king, who be- 
 
 m Thuani Hist. lib. i. r. 10. Heutei. Rerum Austr. lib. viii. c. 18. p. 207.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 361 
 
 came sensible too late of his own credulity, sent out to 1533. 
 intercept him, and reached Italy in safety". 
 
 Francis took every possible precaution to prevent 
 the bad effects of the irreparable errour which he had 
 committed. He put garrisons in all the places of 
 strength in the constable's territories. He seized all 
 the gentlemen whom he could suspect of being his as- 
 sociates; and as he had not hitherto discovered the 
 whole extent of the conspirator's schemes, nor knew 
 how far the infection had spread among his subjects, 
 he was afraid that his absence might encourage them 
 to make some desperate attempt, and for that reason 
 relinquished his intention of leading his army in person 
 into Italy. 
 
 He did not, however, abandon his design on the French in- 
 Milanese ; but appointed admiral Bonnivet to take the ^*| e lhe 
 supreme command in his stead, and to march into that 
 country with an army thirty thousand strong. Bon- 
 nivet did not owe this preferment to his abilities as a 
 general ; for of all the talents requisite to form a great 
 commander, he possessed only personal courage, the 
 lowest and the most common. But he was the most 
 accomplished gentleman in the French court, of agree- 
 able manners and insinuating address, and a sprightly 
 conversation ; and Francis, who lived in great familia- 
 rity with his courtiers, was so charmed with these qua- 
 lities, that he honoured him, on all occasions, with the 
 most partial and distinguished marks of his favour. 
 He was, besides, the implacable enemy of Bourbon; 
 and as the king hardly knew whom to trust at that 
 juncture, he thought the chief command could be 
 lodged nowhere so safely as in his hands. 
 
 Colonna, who was intrusted with the defence of the The ir ill 
 Milanese, his own conquest, was in no condition to co 
 resist such a formidable army. He was destitute of 
 
 M&n. de Bellay, p. 64, etc. Pasquier, Recherche* de la France, 
 p. 481.
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1523. money sufficient to pay his troops, which were reduced 
 to a small number by sickness or desertion, and had, 
 for that reason, been obliged to neglect every precau- 
 tion necessary for the security of the country. The 
 only plan which he formed was to defend the passage 
 of the river Tessino against the French ; and, as if he 
 had forgotten how easily he himself had disconcerted 
 a similar scheme formed by Lautrec, he promised with 
 great confidence on its being effectual. But, in spite 
 of all his caution, it succeeded no better with him than 
 with Lautrec. Bonnivet passed the river without loss, 
 at a ford which had been neglected, and the imperial- 
 ists retired to Milan, preparing to abandon the town 
 as soon as the French should appear before it. By an 
 unaccountable negligence, which Guicciardini imputes 
 to infatuation , Bonnivet did not advance for three or 
 four days, and lost the opportunity with which his 
 good fortune presented him. The citizens recovered 
 from their consternation; Colonna, still active at the 
 age of fourscore, and Morone, whose enmity to France 
 rendered him indefatigable, were employed night and 
 day in repairing the fortifications, in amassing pro- 
 visions, in collecting troops from every quarter ; and, 
 by the time the French approached, had put the city 
 in a condition to stand a siege. Bonnivet, after some 
 fruitless attempts on the town, which harassed his own 
 troops more than the enemy, was obliged, by the in- 
 clemency of the season, to retire into winter-quarters. 
 Death of During these transactions, pope Adrian died ; an 
 Adrian the event so muc \i to the satisfaction of the Roman peo- 
 ple, whose hatred or contempt of him augmented every 
 day, that the night after his decease they adorned the 
 door of his chief physician's house with garlands, add- 
 ing this inscription: TO THE DELIVERER OF 
 HIS COUNTRY P. The cardinal de' Medici instant- 
 ly renewed his pretensions to the papal dignity, and 
 
 Gu?c. lib. xv. 254. v Jovii Vit. Adr. 127.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 363 
 
 entered the conclave with high expectations on his 1523. 
 own part, and a general opinion of the people that ~~ 
 they would be successful. But though supported by 
 the imperial faction, possessed of great personal inter- 
 est, and capable of all the artifices, refinements, and 
 corruption, which reign in those assemblies, the obsti- 
 nacy and intrigues of his rivals protracted the conclave 
 to the unusual length of fifty days. The address and Election of 
 perseverance of the cardinal at last surmounted every [^seventh 
 obstacle. He was raised to the head of the church, Nov. 28. 
 and assumed the government of it by the name of Cle- 
 ment the seventh. The choice was universally ap- 
 proved of. High expectations were conceived of a 
 pope, whose great talents and long experience in busi- 
 ness seemed to qualify him no less for defending the 
 spiritual interests of the church, exposed to imminent 
 danger by the progress of Luther's opinions, than for 
 conducting its political operations with the prudence 
 requisite at such a difficult juncture ; and who, besides 
 these advantages, rendered the ecclesiastical state more 
 respectable, by having in his hands the government of 
 Florence, together with the wealth of the family of 
 Mi-dici* 1 . 
 
 Cardinal Wolsey, not disheartened by the disap- WoUey 
 pointment of his ambitious views at the former elec- '^^ 
 tion, had entertained more sanguine hopes of success and filled 
 on this occasion. Henry wrote to the emperor, re- 
 minding him of his engagements to second the preten- 
 sions of his minister. Wolsey bestirred himself with 
 activity suitable to the importance of the prize for 
 which he contended, and instructed his agents at 
 Rome to spare neither promises nor bribes in order to 
 gain his rnd. But Charles had either amused him 
 with vain hopes which he never intended to gratify, or 
 he judged it impolitic to oppose a candidate who had 
 such a prospect of succeeding, as Medici ; or perhaps 
 
 > Guic. lib. xv. 263.
 
 364 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1523. the cardinals durst not venture to provoke the people 
 ~~ of Rome, while their indignation against Adrian's me- 
 mory was still fresh, by placing another ' ultramontane' 
 on the papal throne. Wolsey, after all his expecta- 
 tions and endeavours, had the mortification to see a 
 pope elected of such an age, and of so vigorous a con- 
 stitution, that he could not derive much comfort to 
 himself from the chance of surviving him. This se- 
 cond proof fully convinced Wolsey of the emperor's 
 insincerity, and it excited in him all the resentment 
 which an haughty mind feels on being at once disap- 
 pointed and deceived ; and though Clement endea- 
 voured to sooth his vindictive nature by granting him 
 a commission to be legate in England during life, with 
 such ample powers as vested in him almost the whole 
 papal jurisdiction in that kingdom, the injury he had 
 now received made such an impression as entirely dis- 
 solved the tie which had united him to Charles, and 
 from that moment he meditated revenge. It was ne- 
 cessary, however, to conceal his intention from his 
 master, and to suspend the execution of it, until, by a 
 dexterous improvement of the incidents which might 
 occur, he should be able gradually to alienate the 
 king's affections from the emperor. For this reason, 
 he was so far from expressing any uneasiness on ac- 
 count of the repulse which he had met with, that he 
 abounded on every occasion, private as well as public, 
 in declarations of his high satisfaction with Clement's 
 promotion r . 
 
 Henry's Henry had, during the campaign, fulfilled, with 
 
 in Fr^nc g reat sincerity, whatever he was bound to perform by 
 the league against France, though more slowly than 
 he could have wished. His thoughtless profusion, and 
 total neglect of economy, reduced him often to great 
 straits for money. The operations of war were now 
 carried on in Europe, in a manner very different from 
 
 T Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, 294, etc. Herbeit.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 365 
 
 that which had long prevailed. Instead of armies sud- 1523. 
 denly assembled, which, under distinct chieftains, fol- 
 lowed their prince into the field for a short space, and 
 served at their own cost, troops were now levied at 
 great charge, and received regularly considerable pay. 
 Instead of impatience on both sides to bring every 
 quarrel to the issue of a battle, which commonly de- 
 cided the fate of open countries, and allowed the ba- 
 rons, together with their vassals, to return to their or- 
 dinary occupations; towns were fortified with great 
 art, and defended with much obstinacy; war, from a 
 very simple, became a very intricate science ; and cam- 
 paigns grew of course to be more tedious and less de- 
 cisive. The expense which these alterations in the 
 military system necessarily created, appeared intoler- 
 able to nations hitherto unaccustomed to the burthen 
 of heavy taxes. Hence proceeded the frugal, and 
 even parsimonious spirit of the English parliaments in 
 that age, which Henry, with all his authority, was sel- 
 dom able to overcome. The commons, having refused 
 at this time to grant him the supplies which he de- 
 manded, he had recourse to the ample and almost un- 
 limited prerogative which the kings of England then 
 possessed, and, by a violent and unusual exertion of it, 
 raised the money he wanted. This, however, wasted Sept. 20. 
 so much time, that it was late in the season before his 
 army, under the duke of Suffolk, could take the field. 
 Being joined by a considerable body of Flemings, Suf- 
 folk marched into Picardy ; and Francis, from his ex- 
 travagant eagerness to recover the Milanese, having 
 left that frontier almost unguarded, he penetrated as 
 far as the banks of the river Oyse, within eleven 
 leagues of Paris, filling that capital with consternation. 
 But the arrival of some troops detached by the king, 
 who was still at Lyons; the active gallantry of the 
 French officers, who allowed the allies no respite night 
 or day; the rigour of a most unnatural season, to- 
 gether with scarcity of provisions, compelled Suffolk
 
 1523. 
 
 November. 
 
 and those 
 of the Ger- 
 mans and 
 Spaniards. 
 
 End of the 
 campaign. 
 
 1524. 
 
 Senti- 
 ments of 
 the new 
 pope. 
 Feb. 27. 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 to retire ; and la Tremouille, who commanded in those 
 parts, had the glory not only of having checked the 
 progress of a formidable army with an handful of men, 
 but of driving them with ignominy out of the French 
 territories s . 
 
 The emperor's attempts upon Burgundy and Gui- 
 enne were not more fortunate, though in both these 
 provinces Francis was equally ill prepared to resist 
 them. The conduct and valour of his generals sup- 
 plied his want of foresight; the Germans, who made 
 an irruption into one of these provinces, and the Spa- 
 niards, who attacked the other, were repulsed with 
 great disgrace. 
 
 Thus ended the year one thousand five hundred 
 and twenty-three, during which Francis's good fortune 
 and success had been such as gave all Europe an high 
 idea of his power and resources. He had discovered 
 and disconcerted a dangerous conspiracy, the author 
 of which he had driven into exile, almost without an 
 attendant; he had rendered abortive all the schemes 
 of the powerful confederacy formed against him; he 
 had protected his dominions when attacked on three 
 different sides ; and though his army in the Milanese 
 had not made such progress as might have been ex- 
 pected from its superiority to the enemy in number, 
 he had recovered, and still kept possession of, one 
 half of that dutchy. 
 
 The ensuing year opened with events more disas- 
 trous to France. Fontarabia was lost by the cowardice 
 or treachery of its governor. In Italy, the allies re- 
 solved on an early and vigorous effort in order to dis- 
 possess Bonnivet of that part of the Milanese which 
 lies beyond the Tessino. Clement, who, under the 
 pontificates of Leo and Adrian, had discovered an im- 
 placable enmity to France, began now to view the 
 power which the emperor was daily acquiring in Italy, 
 
 Herbert. Mem. de Bellay, 73, etc.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 367 
 
 with so much jealousy, that he refused to accede, as 
 his predecessors had done, to the league against Fran- 
 cis, and, forgetting private passions and animosities, 
 laboured with the zeal which became his character, to 
 bring about a reconciliation among the contending par- 
 ties. But all his endeavours were ineffectual; a nu- 
 merous army, to which each of the allies furnished 
 their contingent of troops, was assembled at Milan by 
 the beginning of March. Lannoy, viceroy of Naples, imperial 
 took the command of it upon Colonna's death, though ^"ukeThJ 
 the chief direction of military operations was com- field ear 'y : 
 mitted to Bourbon and the marquis de Pescara; the 
 latter the ablest and most enterprising of the imperial 
 generals; the former inspired by his resentment with 
 new activity and invention, and acquainted so tho- 
 roughly with the characters of the French command- 
 ers, the genius of their troops, and the strength as 
 well as weakness of their armies, as to be of infinite 
 service to the party which he had joined. But all 
 these advantages were nearly lost, through the empe- 
 ror's inability to raise money sufficient for executing 
 the various and extensive plans which he had formed. 
 When his troops were commanded to march, they mu- retarded 
 tinied against their leaders, demanding the pay which ^ ^jj^ 
 was due to them for some months ; and, disregarding troops, 
 both the menaces and entreaties of their officers, threat- 
 ened to pillage the city of Milan, if they did not in- 
 stantly receive satisfaction. Out of this difficulty the 
 generals of the allies were extricated by Morone, who 
 prevailing on his countrymen, over whom his influence 
 was prodigious, to advance the sum that was requisite, 
 the army took the field '. 
 
 Bonnivet was destitute of troops to oppose this army, The French 
 and still more of the talents which could render him an atandonUie 
 equal match for its leaders. After various movements Milanese, 
 and encounters, described with great accuracy by the 
 
 ' Guic. lib. xv. 267. Capella, 190.
 
 368 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK nr. 
 
 1524. contemporary historians, a detail of which would now 
 ~ be equally uninteresting and uninstructive, he was 
 forced to abandon the strong camp in which he had 
 entrenched himself at Biagrassa. Soon after, partly 
 by his own misconduct, partly by the activity of the 
 enemy, who harassed and ruined his army by continual 
 skirmishes, while they carefully declined a battle, which 
 he often offered them; and partly 'by the caprice of 
 six thousand Swiss, who refused to join his army, 
 though within a day's march of it ; he was reduced 
 to the necessity of attempting a retreat into France, 
 through the valley of Aost. Just as he arrived on 
 the banks of the Sessia, and began to pass that river, 
 Bourbon and Pescara appeared with the vanguard of 
 the allies, and attacked his rear with great fury. At 
 the beginning of the charge, Bonnivet, while exerting 
 himself with much valour, was wounded so danger- 
 ously that he was obliged to quit the field ; and the 
 conduct of the rear was committed to the chevalier 
 Bayard, who, though so much a stranger to the arts 
 of a court that he never rose to the chief command, 
 was always called, in times of real danger, to the post 
 of greatest difficulty and importance. He put himself 
 at the head of the men at arms ; and animating them 
 by his presence and example to sustain the whole 
 shock of the enemy's troops, he gained time for the 
 rest of his countrymen to make good their retreat. 
 Death of But in this service he received a wound which he im- 
 lier Bayard me diately perceived to be mortal ; and being unable to 
 and ruin of continue any longer on horseback, he ordered one of 
 army. ' his attendants to place him under a tree with his face 
 towards the enemy ; then fixing his eyes on the guard 
 of his sword, which he held up instead of a cross, he 
 addressed his prayers to God, and in this posture, 
 which became his character both as a soldier and as a 
 Christian, he calmly awaited the approach of death. 
 Bourbon, who led the foremost of the enemy's troops, 
 found him in this situation, and expressed regret and
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 369 
 
 pity at the sight. " Pity not me," cried the high- 1524. 
 spirited chevalier, " I die as a man of honour ought, ~ 
 in the discharge of my duty : they, indeed, are objects 
 of pity, who fight against their king, their country, 
 and their oath." The marquis de Pescara, passing 
 soon after, manifested his admiration of Bayard's vir- 
 tues, as well as his sorrow for his fate, with the gener- 
 osity of a gallant enemy ; and, finding that he could 
 not be removed with safety from that spot, ordered a 
 tent to be pitched there, and appointed proper persons 
 to attend him. He died, notwithstanding their care, 
 as his ancestors for several generations had done, in 
 the field of battle. Pescara ordered his body to be 
 embalmed, and sent to his relations ; and such was the 
 respect paid to military merit in that age, that the 
 duke of Savoy commanded it to be received with royal 
 honours in all the cities of his dominions ; in Dauphine, 
 Bayard's native country, the people of all ranks came 
 out in a solemn procession to meet it". 
 
 Bonnivet led back the shattered remains of his army 
 into France; and in one short campaign Francis was 
 stripped of all he had possessed in Italy, and left with- 
 out one ally in that country. 
 
 While the war, kindled by the emulation of Charles Progress 
 and Francis, spread over so many countries of Europe, (Ration 
 Germany enjoyed a profound tranquillity, extremely >n Gcr- 
 favourable to the reformation, which continued to make m 
 progress daily. During Luther's confinement in his 
 retreat at Wartburg, Carlostadius, one of his disciples, 
 animated with the same zeal, but possessed of less pru- 
 dence and moderation than his master, began to pro- 
 pagate wild and dangerous opinions, chiefly among' the 
 lower people. Encouraged by his exhortations, they 
 rose in several villages of Saxony, broke into Un- 
 churches with tumultuary violence, and threw down 
 
 Belkfor. Kpistr. p. 73. M*m. de Bellay. 75. Ocuv. le Brant, torn. ri. 
 p. 108, etc. Pasquier, Recherches, p. 526. 
 
 VOL. III. B b
 
 370 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1524. and destroyed the images with which they were adorn- 
 "~ ed. Those irregular and outrageous proceedings were 
 so repugnant to all the elector's cautious maxims, that, 
 if they had not received a timely check, they could 
 hardly have failed of alienating from the reformers a 
 prince, no less jealous of his own authority, than afraid 
 of giving offence to the emperor, and other patrons of 
 the ancient opinions. Luther, sensible of the danger, 
 immediately quitted his retreat, without waiting for 
 Frederic's permission, and returned to Wittemberg. 
 March 6, Happily for the reformation, the veneration for his 
 1522. person and authority was still so great, that his ap- 
 pearance alone suppressed that spirit of extravagance 
 which began to seize his party. Carlostadius and his 
 fanatical followers, struck dumb by his rebukes, sub- 
 mitted at once, and declared that they heard the voice 
 of an angel, not of a man x . 
 
 Luther Before Luther left his retreat, he had begun to 
 
 trans l ate tne bible into the German tongue, an under- 
 taking of no less difficulty than importance, of which 
 he was extremely fond, and for which he was well 
 qualified : he had a competent knowledge of the ori- 
 ginal languages; a thorough acquaintance with the 
 style and sentiments of the inspired writers ; and though 
 his compositions in Latin were rude and barbarous, he 
 was reckoned a great master of the purity of his mother 
 tongue, and could express himself with all the elegance 
 of which it is capable. By his own assiduous applica- 
 tion, together with the assistance of Melancthon and 
 several other of his disciples, he finished part of the 
 new testament in the year one thousand five hundred 
 and twenty-two ; and the publication of it proved more 
 fatal to the church of Rome, than that of all his own 
 works. It was read with wonderful avidity and atten- 
 tion by persons of every rank. They were astonished 
 at discovering how contrary the precepts of the author 
 
 * Sleid. Hist. p. 51. Seckend. p. 195.
 
 BOOK HI. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 371 
 
 of our religion are, to the inventions of those priests 1524. 
 who pretended to be his vicegerents ; and having now 
 in their hand the rule of faith, they thought themselves 
 qualified, by applying it, to judge of the established 
 opinions, and to pronounce when they were conform- 
 able to the standard, or when they departed from it. 
 The great advantages arising from Luther's translation 
 of the bible, encouraged the advocates for reformation, 
 in the other countries of Europe, to imitate his ex- 
 ample, and to publish versions of the scriptures in their 
 respective languages. 
 
 About this time Nuremberg, Francfort, Hamburgh, Several c i- 
 and several other free cities in Germany, of the first ^ritefof 
 rank, openly embraced the reformed religion, and by the popish 
 the authority of their magistrates abolished the mass, c 
 and the other superstitious rites of popery y . The elec- 
 tor of Brandenburgh, the dukes of Brunswick and 
 Lunenburgh, and prince of Anhalt, became avowed 
 patrons of Luther's opinions, and countenanced the 
 preaching of them among their subjects. 
 
 The court of Rome beheld this growing defection Measures 
 with great concern ; and Adrian's first care, after his j^jj^ 
 
 arrival in Italy, had been to deliberate with the car- in order to 
 , ... check the 
 
 dinals, concerning the proper means of putting a stop 
 
 to it. He was profoundly skilled in scholastic theo- f l " e re - 
 
 formation. 
 
 logy ; and having been early celebrated on that ac- 
 count, he still retained such an excessive admiration of 
 the science to which he was first indebted for his repu- 
 tation and success in life, that he considered Luther's 
 invectives against the schoolmen, particularly Thomas 
 Aquinas, as little less than blasphemy. All the tenets 
 of that doctor appeared to him so clear and irrefrag- 
 able, that he supposed every person who called in 
 question or contradicted them, to be either blinded by 
 ignorance, or to be acting in opposition to the convic- 
 tion of his own mind. Of course, no pope was ever 
 
 > Seckend. p. 241. Chjtnei Contin. KrmaUii, p. 203. 
 
 bl
 
 372 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK HI. 
 
 1524. more bigoted or inflexible with regard to points of 
 ~ doctrine than Adrian ; he not only maintained them as 
 Leo had done, because they were ancient, or because 
 it was dangerous for the church to allow of innovations, 
 but he adhered to them with the zeal of a theologian, 
 and with the tenaciousness of a disputant. At the 
 same time his own manners being extremely simple, 
 and uninfected with any of the vices which reigned in 
 the court of Rome, he was as sensible of its corruptions 
 as the reformers themselves, and viewed them with no 
 November, less indignation. The brief which he addressed to the 
 1522. jjjgj o f tjjg eni pi re assembled at Nuremberg, and the 
 instructions which he gave Cheregato, the nuncio whom 
 he sent thither, were framed agreeably to these views. 
 On the one hand, he condemned Luther's opinions 
 with more asperity and rancour of expression than Leo 
 had ever used; he severely censured the princes of 
 Germany for suffering him to spread his pernicious 
 tenets, by their neglecting to execute the edict of the 
 diet at Worms ; and required them, if Luther did not 
 instantly retract his errours, to destroy him with fire 
 as a gangrened and incurable member, in like manner 
 as Dathan and Abiram had been cut off by Moses, 
 Ananias and Sapphira by the apostles, and John Huss 
 and Jerome of Prague by their ancestors 2 . On the 
 other hand, he, with great candour, and in the most 
 explicit terms, acknowledged the corruptions of the 
 Roman court to be the source from which had flowed 
 most of the evils that the church now felt or dreaded ; 
 he promised to exert all his authority towards reform- 
 ing these abuses, with as much despatch as the nature 
 and inveteracy of the disorders would admit ; and he 
 requested of them to give him their advice with regard 
 to the most effectual means of suppressing that new 
 heresy which had sprung up among them a . 
 
 Fascic. Her. expet. et fugiend. p. 342. 
 Ibid. p. 345.
 
 BOOK HI. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 373 
 
 The members 'of the diet, after praising the pope's 1524. 
 pious and laudable intentions, excused themselves for Die 7 of 
 not executing the edict of Worms, by alleging that the Nuremberg 
 prodigious increase of Luther's followers, as well as the gSeS * 
 aversion to the court of Rome among their other sub- council M 
 jects on account of its innumerable exactions, rendered remedy? 
 such an attempt not only dangerous, but impossible. 
 They affirmed that the grievances of Germany, which 
 did not arise from imaginary injuries, but from imposi- 
 tions no less real than intolerable, as his holiness would 
 learn from a catalogue of them which they intended to 
 lay before him, called now for some new and efficacious 
 remedy ; and, in their opinion, the only remedy ade- 
 quate to the disease, or which afforded them any 
 hopes of seeing the church restored to soundness and 
 vigour, was a general council. Such a council, there- 
 fore, they advised him, after obtaining the emperor's 
 consent, to assemble, without delay, in one of the 
 great cities of Germany, that all who had right to be 
 present might deliberate with freedom, and propose 
 their opinions with such boldness, as the dangerous 
 situation of religion at this juncture required 1 *. 
 
 The nuncio, more artful than his master, and better Artifices of 
 acquainted with the political views and interests of the 
 Roman court, was startled at the proposition of a coun- 
 cil, and easily foresaw how dangerous such an assembly 
 might prove, at a time when many openly denied the 
 papal authority, and the reverence and submission 
 yielded to it visibly declined among all. For that rea- 
 son he employed his utmost address in order to prevail 
 on the members of the diet to proceed themselves with 
 greater severity against the lutheran heresy, and to 
 relinquish their proposal concerning a general council 
 to be held in Germany. They, perceiving the nuncio 
 to be more solicitous about the interests of the Roman 
 court, than the tranquillity of the empire, or purity of 
 
 
 
 b Fucic. Rer. cxpet. et fugiend. p. 346.
 
 374 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1524. the church, remained inflexible, and continued to pre- 
 
 pare the catalogue of their grievances to be presented 
 to the pope c . The nuncio, that he might not be the 
 bearer of a remonstrance so disagreeable to his court, 
 left Nuremberg abruptly, without taking leave of the 
 diet* 1 . 
 
 The diet The secular princes accordingly, for the ecclesiastics, 
 Fist S of n an although they gave no opposition, did not think it de- 
 hundred cent to join with them, drew up the list, so famous in 
 to the pope, the German annals, of an hundred grievances, which 
 the empire imputed to the iniquitous dominion of the 
 papal see. This list contained grievances much of the 
 same nature with that prepared under the reign of 
 Maximilian. It would be tedious to enumerate each 
 of them ; they complained of the sums exacted for dis- 
 pensations, absolutions, and indulgences; of the ex- 
 pense arising from the lawsuits carried by appeal to 
 Rome ; of the innumerable abuses occasioned by re- 
 servations, commendams, and annates ; of the exemp- 
 tion from civil jurisdiction which the clergy had ob- 
 tained ; of the arts by which they brought all secular 
 causes under the cognizance of the ecclesiastical judges; 
 of the indecent and profligate lives which not a few of 
 the clergy led ; and of various other particulars, many 
 of which have already been mentioned among the cir- 
 cumstances that contributed to the favourable recep- 
 tion, or to the quick progress, of Luther's doctrines. 
 In the end they concluded, that if the holy see did not 
 speedily deliver them from those intolerable burthens, 
 they had determined to endure them no longer, and 
 would employ the power and authority with which God 
 had intrusted them, in order to procure relief 6 . 
 The recess Instead of such severities against Luther and his fol- 
 MarcVef' l wers as the nuncio had recommended, the 'recess' or 
 1523. edict of the diet contained only a general injunction to 
 
 c Fascic. Her. expet. et fugiend. p. 349. d Ibid. p. 376. 
 
 e Ibid. p. 354.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 375 
 
 all ranks of men to wait with patience for the determi- 1524. 
 
 nations of the council which was to be assembled, and 
 
 in the mean time not to publish any new opinions con- 
 trary to the established doctrines of the church ; toge- 
 ther with an admonition to all preachers to abstain 
 from matters of controversy in their discourses to the 
 people, and to confine themselves to the plain and in- 
 structive truths of religion f . 
 
 The reformers derived great advantage from the This diet 
 transactions of this diet, as they afforded them the full- J^MO 
 est and most authentic evidence that gross corruptions the . ref w- 
 prevailed in the court of Rome, and that the empire m 
 was loaded by the clergy with insupportable burthens. 
 With regard to the former, they had now the testi- 
 mony of the pope himself, that their invectives and 
 accusations were not malicious or ill-founded. As to 
 the latter, the representatives of the Germanic body, 
 in an assembly where the patrons of the new opinions 
 were far from being the most numerous or powerful, 
 had pointed out as the chief grievances of the empire, 
 those very practices of the Romish church against 
 which Luther and his disciples were accustomed to 
 declaim. Accordingly, in all their controversial writ- 
 ings after this period, they often appealed to Adrian's 
 declaration, and to the hundred grievances, in confir- 
 mation of whatever they advanced concerning the dis- 
 solute manners, or insatiable ambition and rapacious- 
 ness, of the papal court. 
 
 At Rome, Adrian's conduct was considered as a Adrian's 
 proof of the most childish simplicity and imprudence. ^ M ^ 
 Men trained up amidst the artifices and corruptions of at Reme. 
 the papal court, and accustomed to judge of actions not 
 by what was just, but by what was useful, were asto- 
 nished at a pontiff, who, departing from the wise max- 
 ims of his predecessors, acknowledged disorders which 
 he ought to have concealed ; and, forgetting his own 
 
 ' Fascic. Her. expt. et fugiend. p. 348.
 
 37G THE REIGN OF THE BOOK in. 
 
 1524. dignity, asked advice of those to whom he was entitled 
 ~ to prescribe. By such an excess of impolitic sincerity, 
 they were afraid that, instead of reclaiming the enemies 
 of the church, he would render them more presump- 
 tuous, and, instead of extinguishing heresy, would 
 weaken the foundations of the papal power, or stop the 
 chief sources from which wealth flowed into the 
 church 8 . For this reason, the cardinals and other 
 ecclesiastics of greatest eminence in the papal court 
 industriously opposed all his schemes of reforma- 
 tion, and, by throwing objections and difficulties in his 
 way, endeavoured to retard or to defeat the execution 
 of them. Adrian, amazed, on the one hand, at the 
 obstinacy of the lutherans, disgusted, on the other, 
 with the manners and maxims of the Italians, and find- 
 ing himself unable to correct either the one or the 
 other, often lamented his own situation, and often 
 looked back with pleasure on that period of his life 
 when he was only dean of Louvain, a more humble but 
 happier station, in which little was expected from 
 him, and there was nothing to frustrate his good inten- 
 tions h . 
 
 Clement's Clement the seventh, his successor, excelled Adrian 
 measures as muc h m the arts of government, as he was inferior 
 
 against 
 
 Luther and to him in purity of life, or uprightness of intention. He 
 
 was animated not only with the aversion which all 
 council. popes naturally bear to a council, but having gained 
 his own election by means very uncanonical, he was 
 afraid of an assembly that might subject it to a scrutiny 
 which it could not stand. He determined, therefore, 
 by every possible means, to elude the demands of the 
 Germans, both with respect to the calling of a council, 
 and reforming abuses in the papal court, which the 
 rashness and incapacity of his predecessor had brought 
 upon him. For this purpose, he made choice of car- 
 
 si F. Paul, Hist, of Counc. p. 28. Pallavic. Hist. p. 58. 
 " Jovii Vit. Adr. p. 118.
 
 BOOK in. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 377 
 
 dinal Campeggio, an artful man, often intrusted by his 1524. 
 predecessors with negotiations of importance, as his 
 nuncio to the diet of the empire assembled again at 
 Nuremberg. 
 
 Campeggio, without taking any notice of what had February, 
 passed in the last meeting, exhorted the diet, in a long Jadol^S 
 discourse, to execute the edict of Worms with vigour, I 1 " nuncio 
 as the only effectual means of suppressing Luther's diet at C Nu- 
 doctrines. The diet, in return, desired to know the rember & 
 pope's intentions concerning the council, and the 
 redress of the hundred grievances. The former, the 
 nuncio endeavoured to elude by general and unmean- 
 ing declarations of the pope's resolution to pursue such 
 measures as would be for the greatest good of the 
 church. With regard to the latter, as Adrian was dead 
 before the catalogue of grievances reached Rome, and, 
 of consequence, it had not been regularly laid before 
 the present pope, Campeggio took advantage of this 
 circumstance to decline making any definitive answer 
 to them in Clement's name ; though, at the same time, 
 he observed that their catalogue of grievances con- 
 tained many particulars extremely indecent and un- 
 dutiful, and that the publishing it by their own autho- 
 rity was highly disrespectful to the Roman see. In 
 the end, he renewed his demand, of their proceeding 
 with vigour against Luther and his adherents. But attended 
 though an ambassador from the emperor, who was at 
 that time very solicitous to gain the pope, warmly 
 seconded the nuncio, with many professions of his 
 master's zeal for the honour and dignity of the papal 
 see, the 'recess' of the diet was conceived in terms of 
 almost the same import with the former, without en- 
 joining any additional severity against Luther and his 
 party '. 
 
 Before he left Germany, Campeggio, in order to 
 amuse and sooth the people, published certain articles 
 
 1 Seckend. p. 286. Sleid. Hist. p. 66.
 
 378 THE REIGN OF THE, ETC, BOOK m. 
 
 1524. for the amendment of some disorders and abuses which 
 prevailed among the inferior clergy ; but this partial 
 reformation, which fell so far short of the expectations 
 of the lutherans, and of the demands of the diet, gave 
 no satisfaction, and produced little effect. The nuncio, 
 with a cautious hand, tenderly lopped a few branches ; 
 the Germans aimed a deeper blow, and by striking at 
 the root wished to exterminate the evil k . 
 
 * Seckend. p. 292,
 
 THE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROR 
 
 THE FOURTH BOOK. 
 
 THE expulsion of the French, both out of the 1524. 
 
 Milanese and the republic of Genoa, was considered :: 
 
 i- i - \iewsof 
 
 by the Italians as the termination of the war between the Italian 
 
 Charles and Francis ; and as they began immediately 
 to be apprehensive of the emperor, when they saw no Charles and 
 power remaining in Italy capable either to control or 
 oppose him, they longed ardently for the reestablish- 
 ment of peace. Having procured the restoration of 
 Sforza to his paternal dominions, which had been their 
 chief motive for entering into confederacy with Charles, 
 they plainly discovered their intention to contribute no 
 longer towards increasing the emperor's superiority 
 over his rival, which was already become the object of 
 their jealousy. The pope especially, whose natural 
 timidity increased his suspicions of Charles's designs, 
 endeavoured by his remonstrances to inspire him with 
 moderation, and incline him to peace. 
 
 But the emperor, intoxicated with success, and urged Charles 
 on by his own ambition, no less than by Bourbon's r**r^** 
 desire of revenge, contemned Clement's admonitions, France, 
 and declared his resolution of ordering his army to 
 pass the Alps, and to invade Provence, a part of his 
 rival's dominions, where, as he least dreaded an attack,
 
 380 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1524. he was least prepared to resist it. His most expe- 
 ~~ rienced ministers dissuaded him from undertaking such 
 an enterprise with a feeble army, and an exhausted 
 treasury; hut he relied so much on having obtained 
 the concurrence of the king of England, and on the 
 hopes which Bourbon, with the confidence and credu- 
 lity natural to exiles, entertained of being joined by a 
 numerous body of his partisans as soon as the imperial 
 troops should enter France, that he persisted obsti- 
 nately in the measure. Henry undertook to furnish an 
 hundred thousand ducats towards defraying the ex- 
 pense of the expedition during the first month, and 
 had it in his choice either to continue the payment of 
 that sum monthly, or to invade Picardy before the end 
 of July with an army capable of acting with vigour. 
 The emperor engaged to attack Guienne at the same 
 time with a considerable body of men ; and if these en- 
 terprises proved successful, they agreed, that Bourbon, 
 besides the territories which he had lost, should be put 
 in possession of Provence, with the title of king, and 
 should do homage to Henry, as the lawful king of 
 France, for his new dominions. Of all the parts of 
 this extensive but extravagant project, the invasion of 
 Provence was the only one which was executed. For 
 although Bourbon, with a scrupulous delicacy, alto- 
 gether unexpected after the part which he had acted, 
 positively refused to acknowledge Henry's title to the 
 crown of France, and thereby absolved him from any 
 obligation to promote the enterprise, Charles's eager- 
 ness to carry his own plan into execution did not, in 
 any degree, abate. The army which he employed for 
 that purpose amounted only to eighteen thousand men ; 
 the command of which was given to the marquis de 
 Pescara, with instructions to pay the greatest deference 
 The impe- to Bourbon's advice in all his operations. Pescara 
 P asse( * t ^ ie Alps without opposition, and, entering Pro- 
 vence, laid siege to Marseilles. Bourbon had advised 
 him rather to march towards Lyons, in the neighbour- 
 
 vence. 
 ug ' '
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 381 
 
 hood of which city his territories were situated, and 15-24. 
 where of course his influenfce was most extensive ; but 
 the emperor was so desirous to get possession of a port 
 which would, at all times, secure him an easy entrance 
 into France, that hy his authority he overruled the 
 constable's opinion, and directed Pescara to make the 
 reduction of Marseilles his chief object a . 
 
 Francis, who foresaw, but was unable to prevent, this Prudent 
 attempt, took the most proper precautions to defeat it. J^p^cis. 
 He laid waste the adjacent country, in order to render 
 it more difficult for the enemy to subsist their army ; 
 he razed the suburbs of the city, strengthened its forti- 
 fications, and threw into it a numerous garrison, under 
 the command of brave and experienced officers. To 
 these, nine thousand of the citizens, whom their dread 
 of the Spanish yoke inspired with contempt of danger, 
 joined themselves: by their united courage and in- 
 dustry, all the efforts of Pescara's military skill, and of 
 Bourbon's activity and revenge, were rendered abor- 
 tive. Francis, meanwhile, had leisure to assemble a 
 powerful army under the walls of Avignon, and no 
 sooner began to advance towards Marseilles, than the 
 imperial troops, exhausted by the fatigues of a siege 
 which had lasted forty days, weakened by diseases, and 
 almost destitute of provisions, retired with precipitation 
 towards Italy b . 
 
 If, during these operations of the army in Provence, imperial- 
 cither Charles or Henry had attacked France in the ists forced 
 
 to retreat. 
 
 manner winch they had projected, that kingdom must Sept. 19. 
 have been exposed to the most imminent danger. But 
 on this, as well as on many other occasions, the empe- 
 ror found that the extent of his revenues M-as not ade- 
 quate to the greatness of his schemes, or the ardour of 
 his ambition, and the want of money obliged him, 
 though with much reluctance, to circumscribe his plan, 
 
 Guic. lib. xv. p. 273, etc. Mem. de Dellay, p. 80. 
 Guic. lib. xv. p. 277. Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V. p. 93.
 
 382 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 Francis, 
 
 1524. and to leave part of it unexecuted. Henry, disgusted 
 ~~ at Bourbon's refusing to recognise his right to the 
 crown of France ; alarmed at the motions of the Scots, 
 whom the solicitations of the French king had per- 
 suaded to march towards the borders of England ; and 
 no longer incited by his minister, who was become ex- 
 tremely cool with regard to all the emperor's interests, 
 took no measures to support an enterprise of which, as 
 of all new undertakings, he had been at first exces- 
 sively fond c . 
 
 If the king of France had been satisfied with having 
 d e h' vere( l hi g subjects from this formidable invasion, if 
 he had thought it enough to show all Europe the faci- 
 lity with which the internal strength of his dominions 
 enabled him to resist the invasion of a foreign enemy, 
 even when seconded by the abilities and powerful 
 efforts of a rebellious subject, the campaign, notwith- 
 standing the loss of the Milanese, would have been far 
 from ending ingloriously. But Francis, animated with 
 courage more becoming a soldier than a general; 
 pushed on by ambition, enterprising rather than con- 
 siderate ; and too apt to be elated with success ; was 
 fond of every undertaking that seemed bold and adven- 
 turous. Such an undertaking the situation of his 
 affairs at that juncture naturally presented to his view. 
 resolves to He had under his command one of the most powerful 
 invade the an( j ^est appointed armies France had ever brought 
 into the field, which he could not think of disbanding 
 without having employed it in any active service. The 
 imperial troops had been obliged to retire, almost 
 ruined by hard duty, and disheartened with ill success; 
 the Milanese had been left altogether without defence ; 
 it was not impossible to reach that country before Pes- 
 cara, with his shattered forces, could arrive there ; or, 
 if fear should add speed to their retreat, they were in 
 no condition to make head aainst his fresh and nu- 
 
 c Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, Append. No. 70, 71, 72.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 383 
 
 merous troops ; and Milan would now, as in former in- 1524. 
 stances, submit without resistance to a bold invader. - 
 These considerations, which were not destitute of plau- 
 sibility, appeared to his sanguine temper to be of the 
 utmost weight. In vain did his wisest ministers and 
 generals represent to him the danger of taking the 
 field at a season so far advanced, with an army com- 
 posed chiefly of Swiss and Germans, to whose caprices 
 he would be subject in all his operations, and on whose 
 fidelity his safety must absolutely depend. In vain did 
 Louise of Savoy advance by hasty journeys towards 
 Provence, that she might exert all her authority in 
 dissuading her son from such a rash enterprise. Fran- 
 jis disregarded the remonstrances of his subjects ; and 
 that he might save himself the pain of an interview 
 with his mother, whose counsels he had determined to 
 reject, he began his march before her arrival ; appoint- 
 ing her, however, by way of atonement for that neglect, 
 to be regent of the kingdom during his absence. Bon- Appoints 
 nivet, by his persuasions, contributed not a little to r< ! 
 
 confirm Francis in this resolution. That favourite, who during his 
 strongly resembled his master in all the defective parts 
 of his character, was led, by his natural impetuosity, 
 warmly to approve of such an enterprise ; and being 
 prompted, besides, by his impatience to revisit a Milan- 
 ese lady, of whom he had been deeply enamoured 
 during his late expedition, he is said, by his flattering 
 descriptions of her beauty and accomplishments, to 
 have inspired Francis, who was extremely susceptible 
 of such passions, with an equal desire of seeing her d . 
 
 The French passed the Alps at mount Cenis ; and Operations 
 as their success depended on despatch, they advanced * Ml ~ 
 with the greatest diligence. Pescara, who had been 
 obliged to take a longer and more difficult route by 
 Monaco and Final, was soon informed of their inten- 
 tion; and being sensible that nothing but the presence of 
 
 d Oeuv. de Brant, torn. vi. p. 253.
 
 384 
 
 BOOK iv. 
 
 1524. 
 
 Embar- 
 rassing 
 state of 
 the impe- 
 rialists. 
 
 his troops could save the Milanese, marched with such 
 rapidity, that he reached Alva on the same day that 
 the French army arrived at Vercelli. Francis, in- 
 structed by Bonnivet's errour in the former campaign, 
 advanced directly towards Milan, where the unex- 
 pected approach of an enemy so powerful occasioned 
 such consternation and disorder, that although Pescara 
 entered the city with some of his best troops, he found 
 that the defence of it could not be undertaken with 
 any probability of success ; and, having thrown a gar- 
 rison into the citadel, retired through one gate, while 
 the French were admitted at another 6 . 
 
 These brisk motions of the French monarch discon- 
 certed all the schemes of defence which the imperialists 
 had formed. Never, indeed, did generals attempt to 
 oppose a formidable invasion under such circumstances 
 of disadvantage. Though Charles possessed domi- 
 nions more extensive than any other prince in Europe, 
 and had, at this time, no other army but that which 
 was employed in Lombardy, which did not amount to 
 sixteen thousand men, his prerogative in all his differ- 
 ent states was so limited, and his subjects, without 
 whose consent he could raise no taxes, discovered such 
 unwillingness to burthen themselves with new or extra- 
 ordinary impositions, that even this small body of 
 troops was in want of pay, of ammunition, of provi- 
 sions, and of clothing. In such a situation, it required 
 all the wisdom of Lannoy, the intrepidity of Pescara, 
 and the implacable resentment of Bourbon to preserve 
 them from sinking under despair, and to inspire them 
 with resolution to attempt, or sagacity to discover, 
 what was essential to their safety. To the efforts of 
 their genius, and the activity of their zeal, the emperor 
 was more indebted for the preservation of his Italian 
 dominions than to his own power. Lannoy, by mort- 
 gaging the revenues of Naples, procured some money, 
 
 e M6ra. de Bellay, p. 81. Guic. lib. xv. p. 278.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 385 
 
 which was immediately applied towards providing the 1524. 
 
 army with whatever was most necessary f . Pescara, 
 
 who was beloved and almost adored by the Spanish 
 troops, exhorted them to show the world, by their en- 
 gaging to serve the emperor in that dangerous ex- 
 igency without making any immediate demand of pay, 
 that they were animated with sentiments of honour 
 very different from those of mercenary soldiers; to 
 which proposition that gallant body of men, with an 
 unexampled generosity, gave their consent g . Bourbon 
 having raised a considerable sum, by pawning his 
 jewels, set out for Germany, where his influence was 
 great, that by his presence he might hasten the levying 
 of troops for the imperial service h . 
 
 Francis, by a fatal errour, allowed the emperor's Francis 
 generals time to derive advantage from all these opera- Besieges 
 tions. Instead of pursuing the enemy, who retired to 
 Lodi on the Adda, an untenable post, which Pescara 
 had resolved to abandon on the approach of the 
 French, he, in compliance with the opinion of Bonni- 
 vet, though contrary to that of his other generals, laid Oc t. 28. 
 siege to Pavia on the Tessino; a town, indeed, of 
 great importance, the possession of which would have 
 opened to him all the fertile country lying on the 
 banks of that river. But the fortifications of the place 
 were strong ; it was dangerous to undertake a difficult 
 siege at so late a season; and the imperial generals, 
 sensible of its consequence, had thrown into the town a 
 garrison composed of six thousand veterans, under the 
 command of Antonio de Leyva, an officer of high rank ; 
 of great experience; of a patient, but enterprising 
 courage ; fertile in resources ; ambitious of distinguish- 
 ing himself; and capable, for that reason, as well as 
 
 f Guic. lib. xv. 280. 
 
 Jovii Vit. Davali, lib. xv. 386. Sandov. i. 621. Ulloa, Vita di 
 Carlo V. p. 94, etc. Vida del' Emperador Carlos V. por Vera y 
 Zuniga, p. 36. 
 
 h Mem. de Bel ray, p. 83. 
 VOL. III. C C
 
 386 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK iv. 
 
 1524. 
 
 His vigor- 
 ous efforts. 
 
 The town 
 gallantly 
 defended. 
 
 from his having been long accustomed both to obey 
 and to command, of suffering or performing any thing 
 in order to procure success. 
 
 Francis prosecuted the siege with obstinacy equal to 
 the rashness with which he had undertaken it. Dur- 
 ing three months, every thing known to the engineers 
 of that age, or that could be effected by the valour of 
 his troops, was attempted, in order to reduce the 
 place ; while Lannoy and Pescara, unable to obstruct 
 his operations, were obliged to remain in such an igno- 
 minious state of inaction, that a pasquinade was pub- 
 lished at Rome, offering a reward to any person who 
 could find the imperial army, lost in the month of 
 October in the mountains between France and Lom- 
 bardy, and which had not been heard of since that 
 time '. 
 
 Leyva, well acquainted with the difficulties under 
 which his countrymen laboured, and the impossibility 
 of their facing, in the field, such a powerful army as 
 formed the siege of Pavia, placed his only hopes of 
 safety in his own vigilance and valour. The efforts of 
 both were extraordinary, and in proportion to the im- 
 portance of the place, with the defence of which he 
 was intrusted. He interrupted the approaches of the 
 French by frequent and furious sallies. Behind the 
 breaches made by their artillery, he erected new works, 
 which appeared to be scarcely inferior in strength to 
 the original fortifications. He repulsed the besiegers 
 in all their assaults ; and, by his own example, brought 
 not only the garrison, but the inhabitants, to bear the 
 most severe fatigues, and to encounter the greatest 
 dangers, without murmuring. The rigour of the sea- 
 son conspired with his endeavours in retarding the 
 progress of the French. Francis attempting to become 
 master of the town, by diverting the course of the 
 Tessino, which is its chief defence on one side, a sud- 
 
 ' Sandov. i. 608.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 387 
 
 den inundation of the river destroyed, in one day, the 1524. 
 labour of many weeks, and swept away all the mounds ~ 
 which his army had raised with infinite toil, as well as 
 at great expense k . 
 
 Notwithstanding the slow progress of the besiegers, The 
 and the glory which Leyva acquired by his gallant 
 defence, it was not doubted but that the town would neutrality, 
 at last be obliged to surrender. The pope, who al- 
 ready considered the French arms as superior in Italy, 
 became impatient to disengage himself from his con- 
 nexions with the emperor, of whose designs he was 
 extremely jealous, and to enter into terms of friendship 
 with Francis. As Clement's timid and cautious temper 
 rendered him incapable of following the bold plan 
 which Leo had formed, of delivering Italy from the 
 yoke of both the rivals, he returned to the more 
 obvious and practicable scheme of employing the power 
 of the one to balance and to restrain that of the other. 
 For this reason, he did not dissemble his satisfaction at 
 seeing the French king recover Milan, as he hoped 
 that the dread of such a neighbour would be some 
 check upon the emperor's ambition, which no power in 
 Italy was now able to control. He laboured hard to 
 bring about a peace that would secure Francis in the 
 possession of his new conquests ; and as Charles, who 
 was always inflexible in the prosecution of his schemes, 
 rejected the proposition with disdain, and with bitter 
 exclamations against the pope, by whose persuasions, 
 while cardinal de' Medici, he had been induced to in- 
 vade the Milanese, Clement immediately concluded a 
 treaty of neutrality with the king of France, in which 
 the republic of Florence was included '. 
 
 Francis having, by this transaction, deprived the Francis 
 emperor of his two most powerful allies, and at the 
 same time having secured a passage for his own troops 
 
 k Guic. lib. xv. 280. Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V. p. 95. 
 ' Guic. lib. xv. 282. 285.
 
 388 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1524. through their territories, formed a scheme of attacking 
 the kingdom of Naples, hoping either to overrun that 
 country, which was left altogether without defence, or 
 that at least such an unexpected invasion would oblige 
 the viceroy to recall part of the imperial army out of the 
 Milanese. For this purpose, he ordered six thousand 
 men to march under the command of John Stuart, duke 
 of Albany. But Pescara, foreseeing that the effect of 
 this diversion would depend entirely upon the opera- 
 tions of the armies in the Milanese, persuaded Lan- 
 noy to disregard Albany's motions m , and to bend his 
 whole force against the king himself; so that Francis 
 not only weakened his army very unseasonably by this 
 great detachment, but incurred the reproach of engag- 
 ing too rashly in chimerical and extravagant projects. 
 
 Efforts of By this time the garrison of Pavia was reduced to 
 sscara and extremity ; their ammunition and provisions began to 
 
 1525. fail ; the Germans, of whom it was chiefly composed, 
 having received no pay for seven months , threatened 
 to deliver the town into the enemy's hands, and could 
 hardly be restrained from mutiny by all Leyva's ad- 
 dress and authority. The imperial generals, who were 
 no strangers to his situation, saw the necessity of 
 marching without loss of time to his relief. This they 
 had now in their power: twelve thousand Germans, 
 whom the zeal and activity of Bourbon taught to move 
 with unusual rapidity, had entered Lombardy under 
 his command, and rendered the imperial army nearly 
 
 , equal to that of the French, greatly diminished by the 
 absence of the body under Albany, as well as by the 
 fatigues of the siege, and the rigour of the season. 
 But the more their troops increased in number, the 
 more sensibly did the imperialists feel the distress 
 arising from want of money. Far from having funds 
 for paying a powerful army, they had scarcely what 
 was sufficient for defraying the charges of conducting 
 
 m Guic. lib. xv. 285. " Gold. Polit. Imperial. 875.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 389 
 
 their artillery, and of carrying their ammunition and 1525. 
 provisions, "fhe abilities of the generals, however, ~ 
 supplied every defect. By their own example, as well 
 as by magnificent promises in name of the emperor, 
 they prevailed on the troops of all the different nations 
 which composed their army, to take the field without 
 pay; they engaged to lead them directly towards the 
 enemy; and flattered them with the certain prospect 
 of victory, which would at once enrich them with such 
 royal spoils as would be an ample reward for all their 
 services. The soldiers, sensible that, by quitting the 
 army, they would forfeit the great arrears due to them, 
 and eager to get possession of the promised treasures, 
 demanded a battle with all the impatience of adven- 
 turers who fight only for plunder . 
 
 The imperial generals, without suffering the ardour They march 
 of their troops to cool, advanced immediately towards t h e a French. 
 the French camp. On the first intelligence of their Feb - 3> 
 approach, Francis called a council of war, to deli- 
 berate what course he ought to take. All his officers 
 of greatest experience were unanimous in advising him 
 to retire, and to decline a battle with an enemy who 
 courted it from despair. The imperialists, they ob- 
 served, would either be obliged in a few weeks to dis- 
 band an army, which they were unable to pay, and 
 which they kept together only by the hope of plun- 
 der; or the soldiers, enraged at the non-performance 
 of the promises to which they had trusted, would rise 
 in some furious mutiny, which would allow their ge- 
 nerals to think of nothing but their own safety: that, 
 meanwhile, he might encamp in some strong post; 
 and waiting in safety the arrival of fresh troops from 
 France and Switzerland, might, before the end of 
 spring, take possession of all the Milanese, without 
 danger or bloodshed. But in opposition to them, 
 
 Kryci Peuteani liist. Cisalpina, ap. Graevii Then. Autiquit. Ital. iii. 
 1170. 1179.
 
 390 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. Bonnivet, whose destiny it was to give counsels fatal 
 *~ to France during the whole campaign, represented the 
 ignominy that it would reflect on their sovereign, if he 
 should ahandon a siege which he had prosecuted so 
 long, or turn his back before an enemy to whom he 
 was still superior in number; and insisted on the ne- 
 cessity of righting the imperialists, rather than relin- 
 quish an undertaking, on the success of which the 
 king's future fame depended. Unfortunately, Francis's 
 notions of honour were delicate to an excess that bor- 
 dered on what was romantic. Having often said that 
 he would take Pavia, or perish in the attempt, he 
 thought himself bound not to depart from that reso- 
 lution ; and rather than expose himself to the slightest 
 imputation, he chose to forego all the advantages which 
 were the certain consequences of a retreat, and deter- 
 mined to wait for the imperialists before the walls of 
 Pavia P. 
 
 Battle of The imperial generals found the French so strongly 
 intrenched, that, notwithstanding the powerful motives 
 which urged them on, they hesitated long before they 
 ventured to attack them; but at last the necessities of 
 the besieged, and the murmurs of their own soldiers, 
 
 Feb. 24. obliged them to put every thing to hazard. Never 
 did armies engage with greater ardour, or with an 
 higher opinion of the importance of the battle which 
 they were going to fight ; never were troops more 
 strongly animated with emulation, national antipathy, 
 mutual resentment, and all the passions which inspire 
 obstinate bravery. On the one hand, a gallant young 
 monarch, seconded by a generous nobility, and follow- 
 ed by subjects to whose natural impetuosity, indigna- 
 tion at the opposition which they had encountered, 
 added new force, contended for victory and honour. 
 On the other side, troops more completely disciplined, 
 and conducted by generals of greater abilities, fought 
 
 P Guic. lib. xv. 291.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 391 
 
 from necessity, with courage heightened by despair. 1525. 
 The imperialists, however, were unable to resist the 
 first efforts of the French valour, and their firmest 
 battalions began to give way. But the fortune of the 
 day was quickly changed. The Swiss in the service 
 of France, unmindful of the reputation of their country 
 for fidelity and martial glory, abandoned their post 
 in a cowardly manner. Leyva, with his garrison, sal- 
 lied out and attacked the rear of the French, during 
 the heat of the action, with such fury as threw it into 
 confusion; and Pescara falling on their cavalry with 
 the imperial horse, among whom he had prudently 
 intermingled a considerable number of Spanish foot, 
 armed with the heavy muskets then in use, broke this 
 formidable body by an unusual method of attack, 
 against which they were wholly unprovided. The rout The French 
 became universal ; and resistance ceased in almost ar y , 
 
 ' _ . routed. 
 
 every part, but where the king was in person, who 
 fought now, not for fame or victory, but for safety. 
 Though wounded in several places, and thrown from 
 his horse, which was killed under him, Francis de- 
 fended himself on foot with an heroic courage. Many 
 of his bravest officers gathering round him, and en- 
 deavouring to save his life at the expense of their 
 own, fell at his feet. Among these was Bonnivet, the 
 author of this great calamity, who alone died un- 
 lamented. The king, exhausted with fatigue, and 
 scarcely capable of farther resistance, was left almost 
 alone, exposed to the fury of some Spanish soldiers, 
 strangers to his rank, and enraged at his obstinacy. 
 At that moment came up Pomperant, a French gen- 
 tleman, who had entered together with Bourbon into 
 the emperor's service, and, placing himself by the side 
 of the monarch against whom he had rebelled, as- 
 sisted in protecting him from the violence of the sol- 
 diers; at the same time beseeching him to surrender 
 to Bourbon, who was not far distant. Imminent as 
 the danger was which now surrounded Francis, he
 
 392 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. rejected with indignation the thoughts of an action 
 
 ~ which would have afforded "such matter of triumph 
 
 to his traitorous subject ; and calling for Lannoy, who 
 
 Francis is happened likewise to he near at hand, gave up his 
 
 ~ sword to him ; which he, kneeling to kiss the king's 
 
 hand, received with profound respect; and taking his 
 
 own sword from his side, presented it to him, saying, 
 
 that it did not become so great a monarch to remain 
 
 disarmed in the presence of one of the emperor's 
 
 subjects' 1 . 
 
 Ten thousand men fell on this day, one of the most; 
 fatal France had ever seen. Among these were many 
 noblemen of the highest distinction, who chose rather 
 to perish than to turn their backs with dishonour. 
 Not a few were taken prisoners, of whom the most 
 illustrious was Henry d'Albret, the unfortunate king 
 of Navarre. A small body of the rearguard made 
 its escape, under the command of the duke of Alenon; 
 the feeble garrison of Milan, on the first news of the 
 defeat, retired, without being pursued, by another 
 road ; and in two weeks after the battle, not a French- 
 man remained in Italy. 
 
 Lannoy, though he treated Francis with all the out- 
 ward marks of honour due to his rank and character, 
 guarded him with the utmost attention. He was so- 
 licitous, not only to prevent any possibility of his es- 
 caping, but afraid that his own troops might seize his 
 person, and detain it as the best security for the pay- 
 ment of their arrears. In order to provide against 
 both these dangers, he conducted Francis, the day 
 after the battle, to the strong castle of Pizzichitone, 
 near Cremona, committing him to the custody of don 
 Ferdinand Alarcon, general of the Spanish infantry, 
 an officer of great bravery and of strict honour, but 
 
 i Guic. lib. xv. 292. Oeuv. de Brant, vi. 355. Mem. de Bellay, p. 90. 
 Sandov. Hist. i. 638, etc. P. Mart. Ep. 805. 810. Ruscelli, Lettere de' 
 Principi, ii. p. 70. UlJoa, Vita di Carlo V. p. 98.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 393 
 
 remarkable for that severe and scrupulous vigilance 1525. 
 which such a trust required. 
 
 Francis, who formed a judgment of the emperor's 
 dispositions by his own, was extremely desirous that 
 Charles should be informed of his situation, fondly 
 hoping that, from his generosity or sympathy, he should 
 obtain speedy relief. The imperial generals were no 
 less impatient to give their sovereign an early account 
 of the decisive victory which they had gained, and to 
 receive his instructions with regard to their future con- 
 duct. As the most certain and expeditious method of 
 conveying intelligence to Spain, at that season of the 
 year, was by land, Francis gave the commendador Pen- 
 nalosa, who was charged with Lannoy's despatches, a 
 passport to travel through France. 
 
 Charles received the account of this signal and un- Effects of 
 expected success that had crowned his arms, with a uj^ n victory 
 moderation, which, if it had been real, would have done Charles, 
 him more honour than the greatest victory. Without 
 uttering one word expressive of exultation, or of in- 
 temperate joy, he retired immediately into his chapel, 
 and, having spent an hour in offering up his thanks- 
 givings to heaven, returned to the presence-chamber, 
 which by that time was filled with grandees and fo- 
 reign ambassadors, assembled in order to congratulate 
 him. He accepted of their compliments with a modest 
 deportment ; he lamented the misfortune of the captive 
 king, as a striking example of the sad reverse of for- 
 tune, to which the most powerful monarchs are sub- 
 ject ; he forbade any public rejoicings, as indecent in 
 a war carried on among christians, reserving them 
 until he should obtain a victory equally illustrious over 
 the infidels; and seemed to take pleasure in the ad- 
 vantage which he had gained, only as it would prove 
 the occasion of restoring peace to Christendom r . 
 
 Charles, however, had already begun to form schemes 
 
 r Sandov. Hist. i. 641. Ullo, Vita di Carlo V. p. 110.
 
 394 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv, 
 
 1525. in his own mind, which little suited such external ap- 
 The pearances. Ambition, not generosity, was the ruling 
 
 schemes he p ass i on j n hi s m ind ; and the victory at Pavia opened 
 form. such new and unbounded prospects of gratifying it, as 
 allured him with irresistible force ; but it being no easy 
 matter to execute the vast designs which he meditated, 
 he thought it necessary, while proper measures were 
 taking for that purpose, to affect the greatest modera- 
 tion, hoping under that veil to conceal his real inten- 
 tions from the other princes of Europe. 
 
 The general Meanwhile, France was filled with consternation, 
 erna- The king himself had early transmitted an account of 
 France. the rout at Pavia, in a letter to his mother, delivered 
 by Pennalosa, which contained only these words, " Ma- 
 dam, all is lost, except our honour." The officers 
 who made their escape, when they arrived from Italy, 
 brought such a melancholy detail of particulars as 
 made all ranks of men sensibly feel the greatness and 
 extent of the calamity. France, without its sovereign, 
 without money in her treasury, without an army, with- 
 out generals to command it, and encompassed on all 
 sides by a victorious and active enemy, seemed to be 
 The pru- on the very brink of destruction. But on that occasion 
 duct ofThe ^ e S reat abilities of Louise the regent saved the king- 
 regent, dom, which the violence of her passions had more than 
 once exposed to the greatest danger. Instead of giv- 
 ing herself up to such lamentations as were natural to 
 a woman so remarkable for her maternal tenderness, 
 she discovered all the foresight, and exerted all the 
 activity, of a consummate politician. She assembled 
 the nobles at Lyons, and animated them, by her ex- 
 ample no less than by her words, with such ^eal in 
 defence of their country, as its present situation re- 
 quired. She collected the remains of the army which 
 had served in Italy, ransomed the prisoners, paid the 
 arrears, and put them in a condition to take the field. 
 She levied new troops, provided for the security of the 
 frontiers, and raised sums sufficient for defraying these
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 395 
 
 extraordinary expenses. Her chief care, however, was 1525. 
 to appease the resentment, or to gain the friendship, 
 of the king of England ; and from that quarter the first 
 ray of comfort broke in upon the French. 
 
 Though Henry, in entering into alliances with Effects of 
 Charles or Francis, seldom followed any regular or JJ^JJ* 3 ' 
 concerted plan of policy, but was influenced chiefly by on Henry 
 the caprice of temporary passions, such occurrences 
 often happened as recalled his attention towards that 
 equal balance of power which it was necessary to keep 
 between the two contending potentates, the preserva- 
 tion of which he always boasted to be his peculiar 
 office. He had expected that his union with the em- 
 peror might afford him an opportunity of recovering 
 some part of those territories in France which had be- 
 longed to his ancestors, and for the sake of such an ac- 
 quisition he did not scruple to give his assistance 
 towards raising Charles to a considerable preeminence 
 above Francis. He had never dreamt, however, of 
 any event so decisive and so fatal as the victory at 
 Pavia, which seemed not only to have broken, but to 
 have annihilated the power of one of the rivals; so 
 that the prospect of the sudden and entire revolution 
 which this would occasion in the political system, filled 
 him with the most disquieting apprehensions. He saw 
 all Europe in danger of being overrun by an ambitious 
 prince, to whose power there now remained no coun- 
 terpoise ; and though he himself might at first be ad- 
 mitted, in quality of an ally, to some share in the spoils 
 of the captive monarch, it was easy to discern, that, 
 with regard to the manner of making the partition, as 
 well as his security for keeping possession of what 
 should be allotted him, he must absolutely depend 
 upon the will of a confederate, to whose forces his own 
 bore no proportion. He was sensible, that if Charles 
 were permitted to add any considerable part of France 
 to the vast dominions of which he was already master, 
 his neighbourhood would be mudh more formidable to
 
 396 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 .1525. England than that of the ancient French kings ; while, 
 ~~ at the same time, the proper balance on the continent, 
 to which England owed both its safety and importance, 
 would be entirely lost. Concern for the situation of 
 the unhappy monarch cooperated with these political 
 considerations; his gallant behaviour in the battle of 
 Pavia had excited an high degree of admiration, which 
 never fails of augmenting sympathy; and Henry, na- 
 turally susceptible of generous sentiments, was fond of 
 appearing as the deliverer of a vanquished erfemy from 
 a state of captivity. The passions of the English mi- 
 nister seconded the inclinations of the monarch. Wol- 
 sey, who had not forgotten the disappointment of his 
 hopes in two successive conclaves, which he imputed 
 chiefly to the emperor, thought this a proper oppor- 
 tunity of taking revenge; and Louise, courting the 
 friendship of England with such flattering submissions 
 as were no less agreeable to the king than to the car- 
 dinal, Henry gave her secret assurances that he would 
 not lend his aid towards oppressing France in its pre- 
 sent helpless state, and obliged her to promise that she 
 would not consent to dismember the kingdom even in 
 order to procure her son's liberty 8 . 
 
 But as Henry's connexions with the emperor made 
 it necessary to act in such a manner as to save appear- 
 ances, he ordered public rejoicings to be made in his 
 dominions for the success of the imperial arms ; and as 
 if he had been eager to seize the present opportunity 
 of ruining the French monarchy, he sent ambassadors 
 *to Madrid, to congratulate with Charles upon his vic- 
 tory ; to put him in mind, that he, as his ally, engaged 
 in one common cause, was entitled to partake in the 
 fruits of it ; and to require that, in compliance with the 
 terms of their confederacy, he would invade Guienne 
 with a powerful army, in order to give him possession 
 of that province. At the same time, he offered to send 
 
 9 Mem. de Bellay, 94. Guic. lib. xvi. 318. Herbert.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 397 
 
 the princess Mary into Spain or the Low Countries, 1525. 
 
 that she might be educated under the emperor's direc- 
 
 tion, until the conclusion of the marriage agreed on 
 between them ; and in return for that mark of his con- 
 fidence, he insisted that Francis should be delivered to 
 him, in consequence of that article in the treaty of 
 Bruges, whereby each of the contracting parties was 
 bound to surrender all usurpers to him whose rights 
 they had invaded. It was impossible that Henry could 
 expect that the emperor would listen to these extrava- 
 gant demands, which it was neither his interest, nor in 
 his power to grant. They appear evidently to have 
 been made with no other intention than to furnish him 
 with a decent pretext for entering into such engage- 
 ments with France as the juncture required 1 . 
 
 It was among the Italian states, however, that the on the 
 victory at Pavia occasioned the greatest alarm and ter- o 
 rour. That balance of power on which they relied for 
 their security, and which it had been the constant ob- 
 ject of all their negotiations and refinements to main- 
 tain, was destroyed in a moment. They were exposed 
 by their situation to feel the first effects of that uncon- 
 trolled authority which Charles had acquired. They 
 observed many symptoms of a boundless ambition in 
 that young prince, and were sensible that, as emperor, 
 or king of Naples, he might not only form dangerous 
 pretensions upon each of their territories, but might 
 invade them with great advantage. They deliberated, 
 therefore, with much solicitude, concerning the means 
 of raising such a force as might obstruct his progress". 
 But their consultations, conducted with little union, 
 and executed with less vigour, had no effect. Clement, 
 instead of pursuing the measures which he had con- 
 certed with the Venetians for securing the liberty of 
 Italy, was so intimidated by Lannoy's threats, or over- 
 
 1 Herbert, p. 64. 
 
 Guic. lib. xvi. 300. Ruscelli, Lettere de' Princ. ii. 74. 76, etc. Thuani 
 Hist. lib. i.e. 11.
 
 398 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. 
 
 April 1. 
 
 Mutiny in 
 the impe- 
 rial army. 
 
 come by his promises, that he entered into a separate 
 treaty, binding himself to advance a considerable sum 
 to the emperor, in return for certain emoluments which 
 he was to receive from him. The money was instantly 
 paid; but Charles afterwards refused to ratify the 
 treaty; and the pope remained exposed at once to 
 infamy and to ridicule : to the former, because he had 
 deserted the public cause for his private interest; to 
 the latter, because he had been a loser by that un- 
 worthy action x . 
 
 How dishonourable soever the artifice might be 
 which was employed in order to defraud the pope of 
 this sum, it came very seasonably into the viceroy's 
 hands, and put it in his power to extricate himself out 
 of an imminent danger. Soon after the defeat of 
 the French army, the German troops, which had 
 defended Pavia with such meritorious courage and 
 perseverance, growing insolent upon the fame that 
 they had acquired, and impatient of relying any longer 
 on fruitless promises, with which they had been so 
 often amused, rendered themselves masters of the 
 town, with a resolution to keep possession of it as a 
 security for the payment of their arrears ; and the rest 
 of the army discovered a much stronger inclination to 
 assist, than to punish the mutineers. By dividing 
 among them the money exacted from the pope, Lan- 
 noy quieted the tumultuous Germans ; but though this 
 satisfied their present demands, he had so little pros- 
 pect of being able to pay them or his other forces 
 regularly for the future, and was under such continual 
 apprehensions of their seizing the person of the captive 
 king, that, not long after, he was obliged to dismiss 
 all the Germans and Italians in the imperial service y . 
 Thus, from a circumstance that now appears very sin- 
 gular, but arising naturally from the constitution of 
 
 * Guic. lib. xvi. 305. Mauroceni Histor. Venet. ap. Istorici delle Cose 
 Venez. v. 131. 136. 
 J Guic. lib. xvi. p. 302.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 399 
 
 most European governments in the sixteenth century, 1526. 
 while Charles was suspected, by all his neighbours, of ~~ 
 aiming at universal monarchy ; and while he was really 
 forming vast projects of this kind, his revenues were 
 so limited, that he could not keep on foot his victorious 
 army, though it did not exceed twenty-four thousand 
 men. 
 
 During these transactions, Charles, whose preten- The empe- 
 sions to moderation and disinterestedness were soon [^^tions 
 forgotten, deliberated, with the utmost solicitude, how concerning 
 he might derive the greatest advantages from the mis- o 
 fortunes of his adversary. Some of his counsellors in g hls 
 advised him to treat Francis with the magnanimity that 
 became a victorious prince, and, instead of taking ad- 
 vantage of his situation to impose rigorous conditions, 
 to dismiss him on such equal terms, as would bind him 
 for ever to his interest by the ties of gratitude and af- 
 fection, more forcible as well as more permanent than 
 any which could be formed by extorted oaths and in- 
 voluntary stipulations. Such an exertion of generosity 
 is not, perhaps, to be expected in the conduct of poli- 
 tical affairs, and it was far too refined for that prince 
 to whom it was proposed. The more obvious, but less 
 splendid scheme, of endeavouring to make the utmost of 
 Francis's calamity, had a greater number in the council 
 to recommend it, and suited better with the emperor's 
 genius. But though Charles adopted this plan, he 
 seems not to have executed it in the most proper man- 
 ner. Instead of making one great effort to penetrate 
 into France, with all the forces of Spain and the Low 
 Countries ; instead of crushing the Italian states before 
 they recovered from the consternation which the suc- 
 cess of his arms had occasioned, he had recourse to 
 the artifices of intrigue and negotiation. This pro- 
 ceeded partly from necessity, partly from the natural 
 disposition of his mind. The situation of his finances, 
 at that time, rendered it extremely difficult to carry on 
 any extraordinary armament; and he himself having
 
 4-00 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. 
 
 The rigor- 
 ous terms 
 he pro- 
 poses to 
 Francis. 
 
 Francis 
 carried 
 prisoner 
 to Spain. 
 
 never appeared at the head of his armies, the command 
 " of which he had hitherto committed to his generals, 
 was averse to bold and martial counsels, and trusted 
 more to the arts with which he was acquainted. He 
 laid, besides, too much stress upon the victory of Pavia, 
 as if by that event the strength of France had been an- 
 nihilated, its resources exhausted, and the kingdom 
 itself, no less than the person of its monarch, had been 
 subjected to his power. 
 
 Full of this opinion, he determined to set the highest 
 price upon Francis's freedom ; and having ordered the 
 count de Rceux to visit the captive king in his name, 
 he instructed him to propose the following articles, as 
 the conditions on which he would grant him his liberty : 
 That he should restore Burgundy to the emperor, from 
 whose ancestors it had been unjustly wrested ; that he 
 should surrender Provence and Dauphine, that they 
 might be erected into an independent kingdom for the 
 constable Bourbon ; that he should make full satisfac- 
 tion to the king of England for all his claims, and 
 finally renounce the pretensions of France to Naples, 
 Milan, or any other territory in Italy. When Francis, 
 who had hitherto flattered himself that he should be 
 treated by the emperor with the generosity becoming 
 one great prince towards another, heard these rigorous 
 conditions, he was so transported with indignation, that, 
 drawing his dagger hastily, he cried out, " 'Twere bet- 
 ter that a king should die thus." Alarcon, alarmed at 
 his vehemence, laid hold on his hand ; but though he 
 soon recovered greater composure, he still declared in 
 the most solemn manner, that he would rather remain 
 a prisoner during life, than purchase liberty by such 
 ignominious concessions 2 . 
 
 This mortifying discovery of the emperor's inten- 
 tions, greatly augmented Francis's chagrin and impa- 
 tience under his confinement, and must have driven 
 
 Mm. de Bellay, 94. Ferreras, Hist. ix. 43.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 401 
 
 him to absolute despair, if he had not laid hold of the 1525. 
 only thing which could still administer any comfort 
 to him. He persuaded himself, that the conditions 
 which Roeux had proposed did not flow originally 
 from Charles himself, but were dictated by the rigorous 
 policy of his Spanish council ; and that, therefore, he 
 might hope, in one personal interview with him, to 
 do more towards hastening his own deliverance, than 
 could be effected by long negotiations passing through 
 the subordinate hands of his ministers. Relying on 
 this supposition, which proceeded from too favourable 
 an opinion of the emperor's character, he offered to 
 visit him in Spain, and was willing to be carried thither 
 as a spectacle to that haughty nation. Lannoy em- 
 ployed all his address to confirm him in these senti- 
 ments; and concerted with him in secret the manner 
 of executing this resolution. Francis was so eager on 
 a scheme which seemed to open some prospect of li- 
 berty, that he furnished the galleys necessary for con- 
 veying him to Spain, Charles being at this time unable 
 to fit out a squadron for that purpose. The viceroy, 
 without communicating his intentions either to Bour- 
 bon or Pescara, conducted his prisoner towards Genoa, 
 under pretence of transporting him by sea to Naples ; 
 though, soon after they set sail, he ordered the pilots 
 to steer directly for Spain ; but the wind happening to 
 carry them near the French coast, the unfortunate 
 monarch had a full prospect of his own dominions, to- 
 wards which he cast many a sorrowful and desiring 
 look. They landed, however, in a few days, at Barce- August 24. 
 lona, and soon after, Francis was lodged, by the empe- 
 ror's command, in the alcazar of Madrid, under the 
 care of the vigilant Alarcon, who guarded him with as 
 much circumspection as ever*. 
 
 A few days after Francis's arrival at Madrid, and I ? e P7 the 
 
 eighth con- 
 when he began to be sensible of his having relied eludes a 
 
 , * M6ro. de Bellay, p. 95. P. Mart. Ep. ult. Guic. lib. xiv. 323. 
 VOL. III. D d
 
 402 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. 
 
 treaty with 
 France, in 
 order to 
 procure his 
 release. 
 
 Morone's 
 intrigues 
 in order to 
 overturn 
 the em- 
 peror's 
 power in 
 Italy. 
 
 without foundation on the emperor's generosity, Henry 
 the eighth concluded a treaty with the regent of 
 France, which afforded him some hope of liberty from 
 another quarter. Henry's extravagant demands had 
 been received at Madrid with that neglect which they 
 deserved, and which he probably expected. Charles, 
 intoxicated with prosperity, no longer courted him in 
 that respectful and submissive manner which pleased 
 his haughty temper. Wolsey, no less haughty than 
 his master, was highly irritated at the emperor's dis- 
 continuing his wonted caresses and professions of 
 friendship to himself. These slight offences, added 
 to the weighty considerations formerly mentioned, in- 
 duced Henry to enter into a defensive alliance with 
 Louise, in which all the differences between him and 
 her son were adjusted ; at the same time he engaged 
 that he would employ his best offices in order to pro- 
 cure the deliverance of his new ally from a state of 
 captivity b . 
 
 While the open defection of such a powerful con- 
 federate affected Charles with deep concern, a secret 
 conspiracy was carrying on in Italy, which threatened 
 him with consequences still more fatal. The restless 
 and intriguing genius of Morone, chancellor of Milan, 
 gave rise to this. His revenge had been amply grati- 
 fied by the expulsion of the French out of Italy, and 
 his vanity no less soothed by the reestablishment of 
 Sforza, to whose interest he had attached himself in 
 the dutchy of Milan. The delays, however, and eva- 
 sions of the imperial court, in granting Sforza the in- 
 vestiture of his new-acquired territories, had long 
 alarmed Morone; these were repeated so often, and 
 with such apparent artifice, as became a full proof to 
 his suspicious mind, that the emperor intended to strip 
 his master of that rich country which he had con- 
 quered in his name. Though Charles, in order to 
 
 " Herbert. Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, 337.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 403 
 
 quiet the pope and Venetians, no less jealous of his 1525. 
 designs than Morone, gave Sforza, at last, the investi- - 
 ture which had been so long desired ; the charter was 
 clogged with so many reservations, and subjected him 
 to such grievous burthens, as rendered the duke of 
 Milan a dependant on the emperor, rather than a vas- 
 sal of the empire, and afforded him hardly any other 
 security for his possessions than the good pleasure of 
 an ambitious superior. Such an accession of power 
 as would have accrued from the addition of the Mi- 
 lanese to the kingdom of Naples, was considered by 
 Morone as fatal to the liberties of Italy, no less than 
 to his own importance. Full of this idea, he began to 
 revolve in his mind the possibility of rescuing Italy 
 from the yoke of foreigners ; the darling scheme, as 
 has been already observed, of the Italian politicians in 
 that age, and which it was the great object of their 
 ambition to accomplish. If to the glory of having 
 been the chief instrument of driving the French out of 
 Milan, he could add that of delivering Naples from 
 the dominion of the Spaniards, he thought that no- 
 thing would be wanting to complete his fame. His 
 fertile genius soon suggested to him a project for that 
 purpose; a difficult, indeed, and daring one, but for 
 that very reason more agreeable to his bold and enter- 
 prising temper. 
 
 Bourbon and Pescara were equally enraged at Lan- His nego- 
 noy's carrying the French king into Spain without ^.^pL. 
 their knowledge. The former, being afraid that the cara. 
 two monarchs might, in his absence, conclude some 
 treaty in which his interests would be entirely sacri- 
 ficed, hastened to Madrid, in order to guard against 
 that danger. The latter, on whom the command of 
 the army now devolved, was obliged to remain in Italy; 
 but, in every company, he gave vent to his indignation 
 against the viceroy, in expressions full of rancour and 
 contempt ; he accused him, in a letter to the emperor, 
 of cowardice in the time of danger, and of insolence
 
 404 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. after a victory, towards the obtaining of which he had 
 ~ contributed nothing either by his valour or his con- 
 duct ; nor did he abstain from bitter complaints against 
 the emperor himself, who had not discovered, as he 
 imagined, a sufficient sense of his merit, nor bestowed 
 any adequate reward on his services. It was on this 
 disgust of Pescara that Morone founded his whole 
 system. He knew the boundless ambition of his na- 
 ture, the great extent of his abilities in peace as well 
 as war, and the intrepidity of his mind, capable alike 
 of undertaking and of executing the most desperate 
 designs. The cantonment of the Spanish troops on 
 the frontier of the Milanese, gave occasion to many 
 interviews between him and Morone, in which the lat- 
 ter took care frequently to turn the conversation to 
 the transactions subsequent to the battle of Pavia, a 
 subject upon which the marquis always entered will- 
 ingly and with passion ; and Morone observing his re- 
 sentment to be uniformly violent, artfully pointed out 
 and aggravated every circumstance that could increase 
 its fury. He painted, in the strongest colours, the 
 emperor's want of discernment, as well as of gratitude, 
 in preferring Lannoy to him, and in allowing that pre- 
 sumptuous Fleming to dispose of the captive king, 
 without consulting the man to whose bravery and wis- 
 dom Charles was indebted for the glory of having a 
 formidable rival in his power. Having warmed him by 
 such discourses, he then began to insinuate that now 
 was the time to be avenged for these insults, and to 
 acquire immortal renown as the deliverer of his coun- 
 try from the oppression of strangers ; that the states of 
 Italy, weary of the ignominious and intolerable domi- 
 nion of barbarians, were at last ready to combine in 
 order to vindicate their own independence ; that their 
 eyes were fixed on him as the only leader whose genius 
 and good fortune could insure the happy success of 
 that noble enterprise; that the attempt was no less 
 practicable than glorious, it being in his power so to
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 405 
 
 disperse the Spanish infantry, the only body of the 1525. 
 emperor's troops that remained in Italy, through the 
 villages of the Milanese, that in one night they might 
 be destroyed by the people, who, having suffered much 
 from their exactions and insolence, would gladly un- 
 dertake this service; that he might then, without op- 
 position, take possession of the throne of Naples, the 
 station destined for him, and a reward not unworthy 
 the restorer of liberty to Italy; that the pope, of whom 
 that kingdom held, and whose predecessors had dis- 
 posed of it on many former occasions, would willingly 
 grant him the right of investiture ; that the Venetians, 
 the Florentines, the duke of Milan, to whom he had 
 communicated the scheme, together with the French, 
 would be the guarantees of his right ; that the Nea- 
 politans would naturally prefer the government of one 
 of their countrymen, whom they loved and admired, to 
 that odious dominion of strangers, to which they had 
 been so long subjected ; and that the emperor, asto- 
 nished at a blow so unexpected, would find that he 
 had neither troops nor money to resist such a powerful 
 confederacy c . 
 
 Pescara, amazed at the boldness and extent of the Betrayed 
 scheme, listened attentively to Morone, but with the 
 countenance of a man lost in profound and anxious Pescara. 
 thought. On the one hand, the infamy of betraying 
 his sovereign, under whom he bore such high com- 
 mand, deterred him from the attempt; on the other, 
 the prospect of obtaining a crown allured him to ven- 
 ture upon it. After continuing a short space in sus- 
 pense, the least commendable motives, as is usual after 
 such deliberations, prevailed, and ambition triumphed 
 over honour. In order, however, to throw a colour of 
 decency on his conduct, he insisted that some learned 
 casuists should give their opinion, " Whethjer it was 
 
 '' Guic. lib. xvi. 325. Jovii Vita Davali, p. 417. Oeuv. de Brantome, iv. 
 171. Ruscelli, Lettere de' Princ. ii. 91. Thuani Hist. lib. i. c. 11. P. 
 Heuter. Her. Austr. lib. ix. c. 3. p. 207.
 
 406 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. lawful for a subject to take arms against his immediate 
 ~~ sovereign, in obedience to the lord paramount of whom 
 the kingdom itself was held ?" Such a resolution of 
 the case as he expected was soon obtained from the 
 divines and civilians both of Rome and Milan; the 
 negotiation went forward ; and measures seemed to be 
 taking with great spirit for the speedy execution of 
 the design. 
 
 During this interval, Pescara, either shocked at the 
 treachery of the action that he was going to commit, 
 or despairing of its success, began to entertain thoughts 
 of abandoning the engagements which he had come 
 under. The indisposition of Sforza, who happened at 
 that time to be taken ill of a distemper, which was 
 thought mortal, confirmed his resolution, and deter- 
 mined him to make known the whole conspiracy to 
 the emperor, deeming it more prudent to expect the 
 dutchy of Milan from him as the reward of this dis- 
 covery, than to aim at a kingdom to be purchased by 
 a series of crimes. This resolution, however, proved 
 the source of actions hardly less criminal and igno- 
 minious. The emperor, who had already received full 
 information concerning the conspiracy from other 
 hands, seemed to be highly pleased with Pescara's 
 fidelity, and commanded him to continue his intrigues 
 for some tune with the pope and Sforza, both that he 
 might discover their intentions more fully, and that 
 he might be able to convict them of the crime with 
 greater certainty. Pescara, conscious of guilt, as well 
 as sensible how suspicious his long silence must have 
 appeared at Madrid, durst not decline that dishonour- 
 able office ; and was obliged to act the meanest and 
 most disgraceful of all parts, that of seducing with a 
 purpose to betray. Considering the abilities of the 
 persons with whom he had to deal, the part was 
 scarcely less difficult than base ; but he acted it with 
 such address, as to deceive even the penetrating eye 
 of Morone, who, relying with full confidence on his
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 107 
 
 sincerity, visited him at Novara, in order to put the 1525. 
 
 last hand to their machinations. Pescara received him 
 
 in an apartment where Antonio de Leyva was placed 
 behind the tapestry, that he might overhear and bear 
 witness to their conversation; as Morone was about to 
 take leave, that officer suddenly appeared, and to his 
 astonishment* arrested him prisoner in the emperor's 
 name. He was conducted to the castle of Pavia ; and 
 Pescara, who had so lately been his accomplice, had 
 now the assurance to interrogate him as his judge. At 
 the same time, the emperor declared Sforza to have 
 forfeited all right to the dutchy of Milan, by his en- 
 gaging in a conspiracy against the sovereign of whom 
 he held ; Pescara, by his command, seized on every 
 place in the Milanese, except the castles of Cremona 
 and Milan, which the unfortunate duke attempting to 
 defend, were closely blockaded by the imperial troops d . 
 
 But though this unsuccessful conspiracy, instead of The rigor- 
 stripping the emperor of what he already possessed ^ e s nt r of 
 in Italy, contributed to extend his dominions in that Francis in 
 country, it showed him the necessity of coming to some * 
 agreement with the French king, unless he chose to 
 draw on himself a confederacy of all Europe, which 
 the progress of his arms and his ambition, now as 
 undisguised as it was boundless, filled with general 
 alarm. He had not, hitherto, treated Francis with the 
 generosity which that monarch expected, and hardly 
 with the decency due to his station. Instead of dis- 
 playing the sentiments becoming a great prince, Charles, 
 by his mode of treating Francis, seems to have acted 
 with the mercenary art of a corsair, who, by the rigor- 
 ous usage of his prisoners, endeavours to draw from 
 them an higher price for their ransom. The captive 
 king was confined in an old castle, under a keeper 
 whose formal austerity of manners rendered his vigi- 
 lance still more disgusting. He was allowed no exer- 
 
 ' Guic. lib. xvi. 329. Jovii Hist. 319. Capdla, lib. v. 200.
 
 408 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. else but that of riding on a mule, surrounded with 
 ~ armed guards on horseback. Charles, on pretence of 
 its being necessary to attend the cortes assembled in 
 Toledo, had gone to reside in that city, and suffered 
 several weeks to elapse without visiting Francis, though 
 he solicited an interview with the most pressing and 
 endangers submissive importunity. So many indignities made a 
 1 e * deep impression on an high-spirited prince ; he began 
 to lose all relish for his usual amusements ; his natural 
 gaiety of temper forsook him ; and after languishing 
 for some time he was seized with a dangerous fever, 
 during the violence of which he complained constantly 
 of the unexpected and unprincely rigour with which 
 he had been treated, often exclaiming, that now the 
 emperor would have the satisfaction of his dying a 
 prisoner in his hands, without having once deigned to 
 see his face. The physicians, at last, despaired of his 
 life, and informed the emperor that they saw no hope 
 of his recovery, unless he were gratified with regard to 
 that point, on which he seemed to be so strongly bent. 
 Charles, solicitous to preserve a life with which all his 
 prospects of farther advantage from the victory of 
 Pavia must have terminated, immediately consulted his 
 ministers concerning the course to be taken. In vain 
 did the chancellor Gattinara, the most able among 
 them, represent to him the indecency of his visiting 
 Francis, if he did not intend to set him at liberty im- 
 mediately upon equal terms ; in vain did he point out 
 the infamy to which he would be exposed, if avarice 
 or ambition should prevail on him to give the captive 
 monarch this mark of attention and sympathy, for 
 which humanity and generosity had pleaded so long 
 Sept. 28. without effect. The emperor, less delicate, or less so- 
 The empe- li c itous about reputation, than his minister, set out for 
 
 TOT VISltS 
 
 him. Madrid to visit his prisoner. The interview was short : 
 
 Francis being too weak to bear a long conversation, 
 Charles accosted him in terms full of affection and re- 
 spect, and gave him such promises of speedy deliver-
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 409 
 
 ance anel princely treatment, as would have reflected 1525. 
 the greatest honour upon him if they had flowed from ~ 
 another source. Francis grasped at them with the 
 eagerness natural in his situation ; and, cheered with 
 this gleam of hope, began to revive from that moment, 
 recovering rapidly his wonted health e . 
 
 He had soon the mortification to find, that his con- 
 fidence in the emperor was not better founded than 
 formerly. Charles returned instantly to Toledo ; all The consta- 
 negotiations were carried on by his ministers ; and ar ri v( !!. u at " 
 Francis was kept in as strict custody as ever. A new Madrid. 
 indignity, and that very galling, was added to all those 
 he had already suffered. Bourbon arriving in Spain 
 about this time, Charles, who had so long refused to 
 visit the king of France, received his rebellious subject Nov. 15. 
 with the most studied respect. He met him without 
 the gates of Toledo, embraced him with the greatest 
 affection, and, placing him on his left hand, conducted 
 him to his apartment. These marks of honour to him 
 were so many insults to the unfortunate monarch, 
 which he felt in a very sensible manner. It afforded 
 him some consolation, however, to observe, that the 
 sentiments of the Spaniards differed widely from those 
 of their sovereign. That generous people detested 
 Bourbon's crime. Notwithstanding his great talents 
 and important services, they shunned all intercourse 
 with him, to such a degree, that Charles having desired 
 the marquis de Villena to permit Bourbon to reside in 
 his palace while the court remained in Toledo, he po- 
 litely replied, " That he could not refuse gratifying his 
 sovereign in that request ;" but added, with a Castilian 
 dignity of mind, that the emperor must not be sur- 
 prised, if, the moment the constable departed, he 
 should burn to the ground a house which, having been 
 polluted by the presence of a traitor, became an unfit 
 habitation for a mart of honour : . 
 
 * Guic. lib. xvi. 339. Santlov. Hist. i. 665. ' Guic. lib. xvi. 335.
 
 410 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. 
 
 Appointed 
 general of 
 the imperial 
 army in 
 Italy. 
 
 December. 
 
 Negotia- 
 tions for 
 procuring 
 Francis's 
 liberty. 
 
 Charles himself, nevertheless, seemed to have it 
 much at heart to reward Bourbon's services in a signal 
 manner. But as he insisted, in the first place, on the 
 accomplishment of the emperor's promise of giving 
 him in marriage his sister Eleanora, queen dowager 
 of Portugal, the honour of which alliance had been 
 one of his chief inducements to rebel against his lawful 
 sovereign ; as Francis, in order to prevent such a dan- 
 gerous union, had offered, before he left Italy, to 
 marry that princess ; and as Eleanora herself disco- 
 vered an inclination rather to match with a powerful 
 monarch, than with his exiled subject ; all these inter- 
 fering circumstances created great embarrassment to 
 Charles, and left him hardly any hope of extricating 
 himself with decency. But the death of Pescara, who, 
 at the age of thirty-six, left behind him the reputation 
 of being one of the greatest generals and ablest poli- 
 ticians of that century, happened opportunely at this 
 juncture for his relief. By that event, the command of 
 the army in Italy became vacant; and Charles, always 
 fertile in resources, persuaded Bourbon, who was in 
 no condition to dispute his will, to accept the office of 
 general in chief there, together with a grant of the 
 dutchy of Milan forfeited by Sforza: and, in return for 
 these, to relinquish all hopes of marrying the queen of 
 Portugal 6 . 
 
 The chief obstacle that stood in the way of Francis's 
 liberty, was the emperor's continuing to insist so pe- 
 remptorily on the restitution of Burgundy, as a preli- 
 minary to that event. Francis often declared that he 
 would never consent to dismember his kingdom ; and 
 that, even if he should so far forget the duties of a 
 monarch as to come to such a resolution, the funda- 
 mental laws of the nation would prevent its taking 
 effect. On his part, he was willing to make an abso- 
 lute cession to the emperor of all his pretensions in 
 
 f Sandov. Hist. i. 676. Oeuv. de Brant, iv. 249.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 411 
 
 Italy and the Low Countries ; he promised to restore 1525. 
 to Bourbon all his lands which had been confiscated ; ~ 
 he renewed his proposal of marrying the emperor's 
 sister, the queen dowager of Portugal; and engaged 
 to pay a great sum by way of ransom for his own 
 person. But all mutual esteem and confidence be- 
 tween the two monarchs were now entirely lost; 
 there appeared, on the one hand, a rapacious ambi- 
 tion, labouring to avail itself of every favourable cir- 
 cumstance ; on the other, suspicion and resentment, 
 standing perpetually on their guard ; so that the pros- 
 pect of bringing their negotiations to an issue seemed 
 to be far distant. The dutchess of Alen9on, the 
 French king's sister, whom Charles permitted to visit 
 her brother in his confinement, employed all her ad- 
 dress, in order to procure his liberty on more reason- 
 able terms. Henry of England interposed his good Francis, in 
 offices to the same purpose ; but both with so little s^s' to re- 
 success, that Francis, in despair, took suddenly the s 'g n his 
 i . *r . i 11 i -i crown. 
 
 resolution ol resigning his crown, with all its rights and 
 prerogatives, to his son, the dauphin, determining ra- 
 ther to end his days in prison, than to purchase his 
 freedom by concessions unworthy of a king. The 
 deed for this purpose he signed with legal formality in 
 Madrid, empowering his sister to carry it into France, 
 that it might be registered in all the parliaments of the 
 kingdom ; and at the same time intimating his intention 
 to the emperor, he desired him to name the place of 
 his confinement, and to assign him a proper number of 
 attendants during the remainder of his days h . 
 
 This resolution of the French king had great effect ; Charles 
 Charles began to be sensible, that by pushing rigour alarmed - 
 to excess he might defeat his own measures ; and in- 
 stead of the vast advantages which he hoped to draw 
 from ransoming a powerful monarch, he might at last 
 
 h This paper is published in Mi-moires Historiques, etc. par M. 1'Abbe 
 Kaynal, torn. ii. 151.
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1525. find in his hands a prince without dominions or re- 
 ~ venues. About the same time, one of the king of Na- 
 varre's domestics happened, by an extraordinary exer- 
 tion of fidelity, courage, and address, to procure his 
 master an opportunity of escaping from the prison in 
 which he hat} been confined ever since the battle of 
 Pavia. This convinced the emperor, that the most 
 vigilant attention of his officers might be eluded by the 
 ingenuity or boldness of Francis or his attendants, and 
 one unlucky hour might deprive him of all the advan- 
 tages which he had been so solicitous to obtain. By 
 these considerations, he was induced to abate some- 
 what of his former demands. On the other hand, 
 Francis's impatience under confinement daily increas- 
 ed ; and having received certain intelligence of a pow- 
 erful league forming against his rival in Italy, he grew 
 more compliant with regard to his concessions, trusting 
 that, if he could once obtain his liberty, he would soon 
 be in a condition to resume whatever he had yielded. 
 
 1526. Such being the views and sentiments of the two mo- 
 cfV*^ narc 'hs, the treaty which procured Francis his liberty 
 
 was signed at Madrid, on the fourteenth of January 
 one thousand five hundred and twenty-six. The ar- 
 ticle with regard to Burgundy, which had hitherto 
 created the greatest difficulty, was compromised, Fran- 
 cis engaging to restore that dutchy with all its depen- 
 dencies in full sovereignty to the emperor; and Charles 
 consenting, that this restitution should not be made 
 until the king was set at liberty. In order to secure 
 the performance of this, as well as the other conditions 
 in the treaty, Francis agreed that, at the same instant 
 when he himself should be released, he would deliver 
 as hostages to the emperor, his eldest son the dauphin, 
 his second son the duke of Orleans, or, in lieu of the 
 latter, twelve of his principal nobility, to be named by 
 Charles. The other articles swelled to a great number, 
 and, though not of such importance, were extremely 
 rigorous. Among these the most remarkable were,
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 413 
 
 that Francis should renounce all his pretensions in 1526. 
 Italy; that he should disclaim any title which he had ' 
 to the sovereignty of Flanders and Artois ; that, within 
 six weeks after his release, he should restore to Bour- 
 bon, and his adherents, all their goods, moveable and 
 immoveable, and make them fiill reparation for the da- 
 mages which they had sustained by the confiscation of 
 them; that he should use his interest with Henry 
 d'Albret to relinquish his pretensions to the crown of 
 Navarre, and should not, for the future, assist him in 
 any attempt to recover it ; that there should be esta- 
 blished between the emperor and Francis a league of 
 perpetual friendship and confederacy, with a promise 
 of mutual assistance in every case of necessity ; that, in 
 corroboration of this union, Francis should marry the 
 emperor's sister, the queen dowager of Portugal ; that 
 Francis should cause all the articles of this treaty to be 
 ratified by the states, and registered in the parliaments 
 of his kingdom; that, upon the emperor's receiving 
 this ratification, the hostages should be set at liberty ; 
 but, in their place, the duke of Angouleme, the king's 
 third son, should be delivered to Charles; that, in 
 order to manifest, as well as to strengthen the amity 
 between the two monarchs, he might be educated at 
 the imperial court ; and that if Francis did not, within 
 the time limited, fulfil the stipulations in the treaty, he 
 should promise, upon his honour and oath, to return 
 to Spain, and to surrender himself again a prisoner to 
 the emperor'. 
 
 By this treaty, Charles flattered himself that he had Sentiments 
 not only effectually humbled his rival, but that he had 
 taken such precautions, as would for ever prevent his to it. 
 reattaining any formidable degree of power. The opi- 
 nion, which the wisest politicians formed concerning it, 
 was very different; they could not persuade themselves 
 that Francis, after obtaining his liberty, would execute 
 
 1 Kecueil des Trait, torn. ii. 112. Ulloa, Vitadi Carlo V. |>. 102, etc.
 
 414 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. articles against which he had struggled so long, and to 
 ~~ which, notwithstanding all that he felt during a long 
 and rigorous confinement, he had consented with the 
 utmost reluctance. Ambition and resentment, they 
 knew, would conspire in prompting him to violate the 
 hard conditions to which he had been constrained to 
 submit ; nor would arguments and casuistry be wanting 
 to represent that which was so manifestly advan- 
 tageous, to be necessary and just. If one part of Fran- 
 cis's conduct had been known at that time, this opinion 
 might have been founded, not in conjecture, but in 
 Francis se- certainty. A few hours before he signed the treaty, 
 testsacJainst ne assembled such of his counsellors as were then at 
 the validity Madrid ; and having exacted from them a solemn oath 
 of secrecy, he made a long enumeration, in their pre- 
 sence, of the dishonourable arts, as well as unprincely 
 rigour, which the emperor had employed in order to 
 ensnare or intimidate him. For that reason, he took a 
 formal protest in the hands of notaries, that his con- 
 sent to the treaty should be considered as an involun- 
 tary deed, and be deemed null and void k . By this 
 disingenuous artifice, for which even the treatment that 
 he had met with was no apology, Francis endeavoured 
 to satisfy his honour and conscience in signing the 
 treaty, and to provide, at the same time, a pretext on 
 which to break it. 
 
 Great, meanwhile, were the outward demonstrations 
 of love and confidence between the two monarchs ; 
 they appeared often together in public; they fre- 
 quently had long conferences in private ; they travelled 
 in the same litter, and joined in the same amusements. 
 But, amidst these signs of peace and friendship, the 
 emperor still harboured suspicion in his mind. Though 
 the ceremonies of the marriage between Francis and 
 the queen of Portugal were performed soon after 
 the conclusion of the treaty, Charles would not per- 
 
 k Recueil des Trait, torn. ii. 107.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 415 
 
 mit him to consummate it until the return of the rati- 1526. 
 fication from France. Even then Francis was not 
 allowed to be at full liberty ; his guards were still con- 
 tinued ; though caressed as a brother-in-law, he was 
 still watched like a prisoner ; and it was obvious to at- 
 tentive observers, that an union, in the very beginning 
 of which there might be discerned such symptoms of 
 jealousy and distrust, could not be cordial, or of long 
 continuance '. 
 
 About a month after the signing of the treaty, the Ratified in 
 regent's ratification of it was brought from France ; France - 
 and that wise princess, preferring, on this occasion, 
 the public good to domestic affection, informed her 
 son, that, instead of the twelve noblemen named in the 
 treaty, she had sent the duke of Orleans along with 
 his brother the dauphin, to the frontier, as the king- 
 dom could suffer nothing by the absence of a child, but 
 must be left almost incapable of defence, if deprived 
 of its ablest statesmen and most experienced generals, 
 whom Charles had artfully included in his nomination. 
 At last Francis took leave of the emperor, whose sus- Francis set 
 picioh of the king's sincerity increasing, as the time o f at llbert y- 
 putting it to the proof approached, he endeavoured to 
 bind him still faster by exacting new promises, which, 
 after those he had already made, the French monarch 
 was not slow to grant. He set out from Madrid, a 
 place which the remembrance of many afflicting cir- 
 cumstances rendered peculiarly odious to him, with the 
 joy natural on such an occasion, and began the long- 
 wished-for journey towards his own dominions. He 
 was escorted by a body of horse under the command 
 of Alarcon, who, as the king drew near the frontiers 
 of France, guarded him with more scrupulous exact- 
 ness than ever. When he arrived at the river Andaye, 
 which separates the two kingdoms, Lautrec appeared 
 on the opposite bank with a guard of horse equal in 
 
 1 Guic. lib. xvi. 353.
 
 416 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. 
 
 number to Alarcon's. An empty bark was moored in 
 the middle of the stream ; the attendants drew up in 
 order on the opposite banks; at the same instant, 
 Lannoy, with eight gentlemen, put off from the Spa- 
 nish, and Lautrec with the same number from the 
 French side of the river ; the former had the king in 
 his boat ; the latter, the dauphin and duke of Orleans ; 
 they met in the empty vessel ; the exchange was made 
 in a moment: Francis, after a short embrace of his 
 children, leaped into Lautrec's boat, and reached the 
 French shore. He mounted at that instant a Turkish 
 horse, waved his hand over his head, and with a joyful 
 voice crying aloud several times, " I am yet a king," 
 galloped full speed to St. John de Luz, and from 
 thence to Bayonne. This event, no less impatiently 
 desired by the French nation than by their monarch, 
 happened on the eighteenth of March, a year and 
 twenty-two days after the fatal battle of Pavia m . 
 
 Soon after the emperor had taken leave of Francis, 
 and permitted him to begin his journey towards his 
 own dominions, he set out for Seville, in order to so- 
 lemnize his marriage with Isabella, the daughter of 
 Emanuel, the late king of Portugal, and the sister of 
 John the third, who had succeeded him in the throne of 
 that kingdom. Isabella was a princess of uncommon 
 beauty and accomplishments ; and as the cortes, both 
 in Castile and Aragon, had warmly solicited their sove- 
 reign to marry, the choice of a wife so nearly allied to 
 the royal blood of both kingdoms was extremely ac- 
 ceptable to his subjects. The Portuguese, fond of 
 this new connexion with the first monarch in Christen- 
 dom, granted him an extraordinary dowry with Isa- 
 bella, amounting to nine hundred thousand crowns, a 
 sum which, from the situation of his affairs at that 
 juncture, was of no small consequence to the emperor. 
 March 12. The marriage was celebrated with that splendour and 
 
 The em- 
 peror's 
 marriage 
 with Isa- 
 bella of 
 Portugal. 
 
 m Sandov. Hist. i. 735. Guic. lib. xvi. 355.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 417 
 
 gaiety which became a great and youthful prince. 1526. 
 Charles lived with Isabella in perfect harmony, and "~ 
 treated her on all occasions with much distinction and 
 regard n . 
 
 During these transactions, Charles could hardly give Affairs of 
 any attention to the affairs of Germany, though it was 
 torn in pieces by commotions, which threatened the 
 most dangerous consequences. By the feudal institu- 
 tions, which still subsisted almost unimpaired in the 
 empire, the property of lands was vested in the princes 
 and free barons. Their vassals held of them by the Griev- 
 strictest and most limited tenures ; while the great body ^ e 
 of the people was kept in a state but little removed sants. 
 from absolute servitude. In some places of Germany, 
 people of the lowest class were so entirely in the power 
 of their masters, as to be subject to personal and do- 
 mestic slavery, the most rigorous form of that wretched 
 state. In other provinces, particularly in Bohemia and 
 Lusatia, the peasants were bound to remain on the 
 lands to which they belonged, and, making part of the 
 estate, were transferred like any other property from 
 one hand to another. Even in Suabia, and the coun- 
 tries on the banks of the Rhine, where their condition 
 was most tolerable, the peasants not only paid the full 
 rent of their farms to the landlord ; but if they chose 
 either to change the place of their abode, or to follow 
 a new profession, before they could accomplish what 
 they desired, they were obliged to purchase this privi- 
 lege at a certain price. Besides this, all grants of lands 
 to peasants expired at their death, without descending 
 to their posterity. Upon that event, the landlord had 
 a right to the best of their cattle, as well as of their 
 furniture ; and their heirs, in order to obtain a renewal 
 of the grant, were obliged to pay large sums by way of 
 fine. These exactions, though grievous, were borne 
 
 flloa, Vita di Carlo V. p. K 6. Belcarius Cora. Rer. GaUic. p. 565. 
 Spalatinus ap. Struv. Corp, Hist. Germ. ii. 1081. 
 
 VOL. III. E C
 
 418 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. with patience, because they were customary and an- 
 ~~ cient : but when the progress of elegance and luxury, 
 as well as the changes introduced into the art of war, 
 came to increase the expense of government, and made 
 it necessary for princes to levy occasional or stated 
 taxes on their subjects, such impositions being new, 
 appeared intolerable; and in Germany, these duties 
 being laid chiefly upon beer, wine, and other neces- 
 saries of life, affected the common people in the most 
 sensible manner. The addition of such a load to their 
 former burthens drove them to despair. It was to the 
 valour inspired by resentment against impositions of 
 this kind, that the Swiss owed the acquisition of their 
 liberty in the fourteenth century. The same cause had 
 excited the peasants in several other provinces of Ger- 
 many to rebel against their superiors towards the end 
 of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centu- 
 ries ; and though these insurrections were not attended 
 with like success, they could not, however, be quelled 
 without much difficulty and bloodshed . 
 
 Their in- By these checks, the spirit of the peasants was over- 
 awec ^ rather than subdued ; and their grievances mul- 
 tiplying continually, they ran to arms, in the year one 
 thousand five hundred and twenty-six, with the most 
 frantic rage. Their first appearance was near Ulm, in 
 Suabia. The peasants in the adjacent country flocked 
 to their standard with the ardour and impatience na- 
 tural to men who, having groaned long under oppres- 
 sion, beheld at last some prospect of deliverance ; and 
 the contagion, spreading from province to province, 
 reached almost every part of Germany. Wherever 
 they came, they plundered the monasteries; wasted 
 the lands of their superiors ; razed their castles, and 
 massacred without mercy all persons of noble birth, 
 who were so unhappy as to fall into their hands p . 
 
 Seckend. lib. ii. 2. 6. 
 
 P Petr. Crinitus de Bello Rusticano, ap. Freher. Script. Rer. Germ. 
 Argent. 1717, vol. iii. 243.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 419 
 
 Having intimidated their oppressors, as they imagined, 1526. 
 by the violence of these proceedings, they began to 
 consider what would be the most proper and effectual 
 method of securing themselves for the future from 
 their tyrannical exactions. With this view, they drew 
 up and published a memorial, containing all their de- 
 mands, and declared, that, while arms were in their 
 hands, they would either persuade or oblige the nobles 
 to give them full satisfaction with regard to these. 
 The chief articles were, that they might have liberty 
 to choose their own pastors ; that they might be freed 
 from the payment of all tithes, except those of corn ; 
 that they might no longer be considered as the slaves 
 or bondmen of their superiors; that the liberty of 
 hunting and fishing might be common ; that the great 
 forests might not be regarded as private property, but 
 be open for the use of all ; that they might be delivered 
 from the unusual burthen of taxes under which they 
 laboured ; that the administration of justice might be 
 rendered less rigorous and more impartial; that the 
 encroachments of the nobles upon meadows and com- 
 mons might be restrained 9 . 
 
 Many of these demands were extremely reasonable ; quelled. 
 and, being urged by such formidable numbers, should 
 have met with some redress. But those unwieldy 
 bodies, assembled in different places, had neither 
 union, nor conduct, nor vigour. Being led by persons 
 of the lowest rank, without skill in war, or knowledge 
 of what was necessary for accomplishing their designs ; 
 all their exploits were distinguished only by a brutal 
 and unmeaning fury. To oppose this, the princes and 
 nobles of Suabia and the lower Rhine raised such of 
 their va<saU as still continued faithful, and attacking 
 some of the mutineers with open force, and others by 
 surprise, cut to pieces or dispersed all who infested 
 those provinces ; so that the peasants, after ruining the 
 
 n Sleid. Hist. p. 90. 
 
 E e 2
 
 420 
 
 THE REiGN OF THE 
 
 BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. 
 
 Their in- 
 surrec- 
 tions in 
 Thuringia 
 
 more for- 
 midable. 
 
 open country, and losing upwards of twenty thousand 
 of their associates in the field, were obliged to return 
 to their habitations with less hope than ever of relief 
 from their grievances'. 
 
 These commotions happened at first in provinces of 
 Germany where Luther's opinions had made little pro- 
 gress ; and, being excited wholly by political causes, 
 had no connexion with the disputed points in religion. 
 But the frenzy reached at last those countries in 
 which the reformation was established, derived new 
 strength from circumstances peculiar to them, and rose 
 to a still greater pitch of extravagance. The reforma- 
 tion, wherever it was received, increased that bold and 
 innovating spirit to which it owed its birth. Men who 
 had the courage to overturn a system supported by 
 every thing which can command respect or reverence, 
 were not to be overawed by any authority, how great 
 or venerable soever. After having been accustomed 
 to consider themselves as judges of the most important 
 doctrines in religion, to examine these freely, and to 
 reject without scruple what appeared to them erro- 
 neous, it was natural for them to turn the same daring 
 and inquisitive eye towards government, and to think 
 of rectifying whatever disorders or imperfections were 
 discovered there. As religious abuses had been re- 
 formed in several places without the permission of the 
 magistrate, it was an easy transition to attempt the 
 redress of political grievances in the same manner. 
 
 No sooner, then, did the spirit of revolt break out in 
 Thuringia, a province subject to the elector of Saxony, 
 the inhabitants of which were mostly converts to lu- 
 theranism, than it assumed a new and more dangerous 
 form. Thomas Muncer, one of Luther's disciples, 
 having established himself in that country, had ac- 
 quired a wonderful ascendant over the minds of the 
 
 r Seckend. lib. ii. 10. Petr. Gnodalius de Rusticanorum Tumultu in 
 Germania, ap. Scard. Script, vol. ii. 131, etc.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 421 
 
 people. He propagated among them the wildest and 1526. 
 most enthusiastic notions, but such as tended mani- 
 festly to inspire them with boldness, and lead them to 
 sedition. ''Luther," he told them, "had done more Their fana- 
 hurt than service to religion. He had, indeed, rescued 
 the church from the yoke of popery, but his doctrines 
 encouraged, and his life set an example of, the utmost 
 licentiousness of manners. In order to avoid vice," says 
 he, " men must practise perpetual mortification. They 
 must put on a grave countenance, speak little, wear a 
 plain garb, and be serious in their whole deportment. 
 Such as prepare their hearts in this manner, may ex- 
 pect that the supreme being will direct all their steps, 
 and by some visible sign discover his- will to them ; if 
 that illumination be at any time withheld, we may expos- 
 tulate with the Almighty, who deals with us so harshly, 
 and remind him of his promises. This expostulation 
 and anger will be highly acceptable to God, and will 
 at last prevail on him to guide us with the same uner- 
 ring hand which conducted the patriarchs of old. Let 
 us beware, however, of offending him by our arro- 
 gance ; but as all men are equal in his eye, let them 
 return to that condition of equality in which he formed 
 them ; and, having all things in common, let them live 
 together like brethren, without any marks of subor- 
 dination or preeminence s ." 
 
 Extravagant as these tenets were, they flattered so 
 many passions in the human heart, as to make a deep 
 impression. To aim at nothing more than abridging 
 the power of the nobility, was HOW considered as a 
 trifling and partial reformation, not worth the con- 
 tending for; it was proposed to level every distinction 
 among mankind, and, by abolishing property, to re- 
 duce them to their natural state of equality, in which 
 all should receive their subsistence from one common 
 stock. Muncer assured them, that the design was 
 
 * Seckend. lib. ii. 13. Sli-il. lli>t. p. 83.
 
 422 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. approved of by heaven, and that the Almighty had in 
 ~~ a dream ascertained him of its success. The peasants 
 set about the execution of it, not only with the rage 
 which animated those of their order in other parts of 
 Germany, but with the ardour which enthusiasm in- 
 spires. They deposed the magistrates in all the cities 
 of which they were masters ; seized the lands of the 
 nobles, and obliged such of them as they got into their 
 hands, to put on the dress commonly worn by peasants, 
 and, instead of their former titles, to be satisfied with 
 the appellation given to people in the lowest class of 
 life. Great numbers engaged in this wild undertaking ; 
 but Muncer, their leader and their prophet, was des- 
 titute of the abilities necessary for conducting it. He 
 had all the extravagance, but not the courage, which 
 enthusiasts usually possess. It was with difficulty he 
 could be persuaded to take the field ; and though he 
 soon drew together eight thousand men, he suffered 
 himself to be surrounded by a body of cavalry, under 
 the command of the elector of Saxony, the landgrave 
 of Hesse, and the duke of Brunswick. These princes, 
 unwilling to shed the blood of their deluded subjects, 
 sent a young nobleman to their camp, with the offer 
 of a general pardon, if they would immediately lay 
 down their arms, and deliver up the authors of the 
 sedition. Muncer, alarmed at this, began to harangue 
 his followers with his usual vehemence, exhorting them 
 not to trust these deceitful promises of their oppres- 
 sors, nor to desert the cause of God, and of Christian 
 liberty. 
 
 Peasants But the sense of present danger making a deeper 
 defeated, impression on the peasants than his eloquence, con- 
 fusion and terrour were visible in every face, when a 
 rainbow, which was the emblem that the mutineers had 
 painted on their colours, happening to appear in the 
 clouds, Muncer, with admirable presence of mind, laid 
 hold of that incident, and suddenly raising his eyes and 
 hands towards heaven, " Behold," cries he, with an ele-
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 423 
 
 vated voice, " the sign which God has given. There is 15'26. 
 the pledge of your safety, and a token that the wicked 
 shall be destroyed." The fanatical multitude set up 
 instantly a great shout, as if victory had been certain ; 
 and, passing in a moment from one extreme to another, 
 massacred the unfortunate nobleman who had come 
 with the offer of pardon, and demanded to be led to- 
 wards the enemy. The princes, enraged at this shock- 
 ing violation of the laws of war, advanced with no less 
 impetuosity, and began the attack; but the behaviour May 15. 
 of the peasants in the combat was not such as might 
 have been expected either from their ferocity or con- 
 fidence of success; an undisciplined rabble was no 
 equal match for well-trained troops ; above five thou- 
 sand were slain in the field, almost without making 
 resistance ; the rest fled, and among the foremost, 
 Muncer their general. He was taken next day ; and 
 being condemned to such punishments as his crimes 
 had deserved, he suffered them with a poor and das- 
 tardly spirit. His death put an end to the insurrec- 
 tions of the peasants, which had filled Germany with 
 such terrour'; but the enthusiastic notions which he 
 had scattered were not extirpated, and produced, not 
 long after, effects more memorable, as well as more 
 extravagant. 
 
 During these commotions, Luther acted with exem- Luther's 
 plary prudence and moderation; like a common parent, an( i prudent 
 solicitous about the welfare of both parties, without conduct, 
 sparing the faults or errours of either. On the one 
 hand, he addressed a monitory discourse to the nobles, 
 exhorting them to treat their dependants with greater 
 humanity and indulgence. On the other, he severely 
 censured the seditious spirit of the peasants, advis- 
 ing them not to murmur at hardships inseparable from 
 
 Sleid. Hist. p. 84. Seckend. lib. ii. 12. Gnodalius, Tumult. Rus- 
 tican. p. 165.
 
 424 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. their condition, nor to seek for redress by any but legal 
 means ". 
 
 His mar- Lutlier's famous marriage with Catherine a Boria, a 
 
 na e - nun of a noble family, who, having thrown off the veil, 
 had fled from the cloister, happened this year, and was 
 far from meeting with the same approbation. Even 
 
 his most devoted followers thought this step indecent, 
 
 at a time when his country was involved in so many 
 calamities; while his enemies never mentioned it with 
 any softer appellation than that of incestuous or pro- 
 fane. Luther himself was sensible of the impression 
 which it had made to his disadvantage ; but being sa- 
 tisfied with his own conduct, he bore the censure of his 
 friends, and the reproaches of his adversaries, with his 
 usual fortitude x . 
 
 May 5. This year the reformation lost its first protector, 
 
 Frederic, elector of Saxony; but the blow was the less 
 sensibly felt, as he was succeeded by his brother John, 
 a more avowed and zealous, though less able patron of 
 Luther and his doctrines. 
 
 Prussia Another event happened about the same time, which, 
 
 wrested ag j t occasioned a considerable change in the state of 
 
 from the 
 
 Teutonic Germany, must be traced back to its source. While 
 the frenzy of the crusades possessed all Europe du- 
 ring the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, several orders 
 of religious knighthood were founded in defence of the 
 Christian faith against heathens and infidels. Among 
 these, the Teutonic order in Germany was one of the 
 most illustrious, the knights of which distinguished 
 themselves greatly in all the enterprises carried on in 
 the Holy Land. Being driven at last from their set- 
 tlements in the east, they were obliged to return to 
 their native country. Their zeal and valour were too 
 impetuous to remain long inactive. They invaded, on 
 very slight pretences, the province of Prussia, the in- 
 
 " Sleid. Hist. p. 87. * Seckend. lib. ii. 15.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 425 
 
 habitants of which were still idolaters ; and, having 1526. 
 completed the conquest of it about the middle of the "" 
 thirteenth century, held it many years as a fief de- 
 pending on the crown of Poland. Fierce contests 
 arose, during this period, between the grand masters 
 of the order and the kings of Poland ; the former 
 struggling for independence, while the latter asserted 
 their right of sovereignty with great firmness. Albert, 
 a prince of the house of Brandenburg, who was elected 
 grand master in the year one thousand five hundred 
 and eleven, engaging keenly in this quarrel, maintained 
 a long war with Sigismund, king of Poland ; but hav- 
 ing become an early convert to Luther's doctrines, this 
 gradually lessened his zeal for the interests of his fra- 
 ternity, so that he took the opportunity of the con- 
 fusions in the empire, and the absence of the emperor, 
 to conclude a treaty with Sigismund, greatly to his own 
 private emolument. By it, that part of Prussia, which 
 belonged to the Teutonic order, was erected into a 
 secular and hereditary dutchy, and the investiture of it 
 granted to Albert, who, in return, bound himself to do 
 homage for it to the kings of Poland as their vassal. 
 Immediately after this, he made public profession of the 
 reformed religion, and married a princess of Denmark. 
 The Teutonic knights exclaimed so loudly against the 
 treachery of their grand master, that he was put under 
 the ban of the empire ; but he still kept possession of 
 the province which he had usurped, and transmitted it 
 to his posterity. In process of time, this rich inheri- 
 tance fell to the electoral branch of the family ; all 
 dependence on the crown of Poland was shaken off; 
 and the margraves of Brandenburg, having assumed 
 the title of kings of Prussia, have not only risen to an 
 equality with the first princes in Germany, but take 
 their rank among the great monarchs of Europe 5 . 
 
 i Sleid. Hut. p. 98. Pfeffel, Abrg6 de 1'Hist. du Droit Publ. p. 
 606, etc.
 
 42G THE REIGN OF THE Book iv. 
 
 1526. Upon the return of the French king to his domi- 
 First mea- n i ns > tne e y es f a ll the powers in Europe were fixed 
 sures of the upon him, that, by observing his first motions, they 
 upon his might form a judgment concerning his subsequent con- 
 return to duct. They were not held long in suspense. Francis, 
 France. 7 . 
 
 as soon as he arrived at riayonne, wrote to the king 
 
 of England, thanking him for the zeal and affection 
 wherewith he had interposed in his favour, to which 
 he acknowledged that he owed the recovery of his 
 liberty. Next day, the emperor's ambassadors de- 
 manded audience, and, in their master's name, re- 
 quired him to issue such orders as were necessary for 
 carrying the treaty of Madrid into immediate and full 
 execution. He coldly answered, that though, for his 
 own part, he determined religiously to perform all that 
 he had promised, the treaty contained so many articles 
 relative not to himself alone, but affecting the interests 
 of the French monarchy, that he could not take any 
 farther step without consulting the states of his king- 
 dom, and that some time would be necessary, in order 
 to reconcile their minds to the hard conditions which 
 he had consented to ratify 2 . This reply was consi- 
 dered as no obscure discovery of his being resolved to 
 elude the treaty; and the compliment paid to Henry, 
 appeared a very proper step towards securing the as- 
 sistance of that monarch in the war with the emperor, 
 to which such a resolution would certainly give rise. 
 These circumstances, added to the explicit declarations 
 which Francis made in secret to the ambassadors from 
 several of the Italian powers, fully satisfied them that 
 their conjectures with regard to his conduct had been 
 just ; and that, instead of intending to execute an un- 
 reasonable treaty, he was eager to seize the first op- 
 portunity of revenging those injuries which had com- 
 pelled him to feign an approbation of it. Even the 
 doubts, and fears, and scruples, which used, on other 
 
 * Mem. de Bellay, p. 97.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 427 
 
 occasions, to hold Clement in a state of uncertainty, 1526. 
 were dissipated by Francis's seeming impatience to ~ 
 break through all his engagements with the emperor. 
 The situation, indeed, of affairs in Italy at that tune 
 did not allow the pope to hesitate long. Sforza was 
 still besieged by the imperialists in the castle of Milan. 
 That feeble prince, deprived now of Morone's advice, 
 and unprovided with every thing necessary for defence, 
 found means to inform Clement and the Venetians, that 
 he must soon surrender, if they did not come to his 
 relief. The imperial troops, as they had received no 
 pay since the battle of Pavia, lived at discretion in the 
 Milanese, levying such exorbitant contributions in that 
 dutchy, as amounted, if we may rely on Guicciardini's 
 calculation, to no less a sum than five thousand ducats a 
 day a ; nor was it to be doubted, but that the soldiers, 
 as soon as the castle should submit, would choose to 
 leave a ruined country which hardly afforded them 
 subsistence, that they might take possession of more 
 comfortable quarters in the fertile and untouched ter- 
 ritories of the pope and Venetians. The assistance of 
 the French king was the only thing which could either 
 save Sforza, or enable them to protect their own do- 
 minions from the insults of the imperial troops. 
 
 For these reasons, the pope, the Venetians, and A league 
 duke of Milan, were equally impatient to come to an a r ^ st the 
 agreement with Francis, who, on his part, was no less emperor, 
 desirous of acquiring such a considerable accession 
 both of strength and reputation as such a confederacy 
 would bring along with it. The chief objects of this 
 alliance, which was concluded at Cognac on the 
 twenty-second of May, though kept secret for some 
 time, were to oblige the emperor to set at liberty the 
 French king's sons, upon payment of a reasonable ran- 
 som, and to reestablish Sforza in the quiet possession 
 of the Milanese. If Charles should refuse either of 
 
 * Guir. lib. xvii. 360.
 
 428 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. these, the contracting parties bound themselves to 
 ~ bring into the field an army of thirty-five thousand 
 men, with which, after driving the Spaniards out of 
 the Milanese, they would attack the kingdom of 
 Naples. The king of England was declared protector 
 of this league, which they dignified with the name of 
 ' holy,' because the pope was at the head of it ; and in 
 order to allure Henry more effectually, a principality 
 in the kingdom of Naples, of thirty thousand ducats' 
 yearly revenue, was to be settled on him; and lands 
 to the value of ten thousand ducats on Wolsey, his 
 favourite b . 
 
 The pope No sooner was this league concluded, than Clement, 
 absolves jj v fa e plenitude of his papal power, absolved Francis 
 from his from the oath which he had taken to observe the 
 serve'th?" treatv f Madrid c . This right, how pernicious soever 
 treaty of in its effects, and destructive of that integrity which is 
 the basis of all transactions among men, was the natural 
 consequence of the powers which the popes arro- 
 gated as the infallible vicegerents of Christ upon earth. 
 But as, in virtue of this pretended prerogative, they 
 had often dispensed with obligations which were held 
 sacred, the interest of some men, and the credulity of 
 others, led them to imagine, that the decisions of a 
 sovereign pontiff" authorized or justified actions which 
 would, otherwise, have been criminal and impious. 
 Theempe- The discovery of Francis's intention to elude the 
 ror alarmed. treaty o f Madrid, filled the emperor with a variety of 
 disquieting thoughts. He had treated an unfortunate 
 prince in the most ungenerous manner; he had display- 
 ed an insatiable ambition in all his negotiations with his 
 prisoner ; he knew what censures the former had drawn 
 upon him, and what apprehensions the latter had ex- 
 cited in every court of Europe; nor had he reaped 
 from the measures which he pursued, any of those ad- 
 
 b P. Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. ix. c. 3 p. 217. Recueil des Trait, ii. p. 124. 
 c Goldast. Polit. Imperial, p. 1002. Pallav. Hist. p. 70.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 429 
 
 vantages which politicians are apt to consider as an 1526. 
 excuse for the most criminal conduct, and a compensa- ~ 
 tion for the severest reproaches. Francis was now out of 
 his hands, and not one of all the mighty consequences, 
 which he had expected from the treaty that set him at 
 liberty, was likely to take place. His rashness in rely- 
 ing so far on his own judgment as to trust to the 
 sincerity of the French king, in opposition to the sen- 
 timents of his wisest ministers, was now apparent ; and 
 he easily conjectured, that the same confederacy, the 
 dread of which had induced him to set Francis at 
 liberty, would now be formed against him with that 
 gallant and incensed monarch at its head. Self-con- 
 demnation and shame, on account of what was past, 
 with anxious apprehensions concerning what might 
 happen, were the necessary result of these reflections 
 on his own conduct and situation. Charles, however, 
 was naturally firm and inflexible in all his measures. 
 To have receded suddenly from any article in the treaty 
 of Madrid, would have been a plain confession of im- 
 prudence, and a palpable symptom of fear ; he deter- 
 mined, therefore, that it was most suitable to his 
 dignity, to insist, whatever might be the consequences, 
 on the strict execution of the treaty, and particularly 
 not to accept of any thing which might be offered as 
 an equivalent for the restitution of Burgundy d . 
 
 In consequence of this resolution, he appointed Lan- Requires 
 noy and Alarcon to repair, as his ambassadors, to the 1^^ to 
 court of France, and formally to summon the king, what he 
 either to execute the treaty with the sincerity that ] a a ted * pu * 
 became him, or to return, according to his oath, a 
 prisoner to Madrid. Instead of giving them an imme- 
 diate answer, Francis admitted the deputies of the 
 states of Burgundy to an audience in their presence. 
 They humbly represented to him, that he had ex- 
 ceeded the powers vested in a king of France, when he 
 
 4 Guic. lib. xvii. 366.
 
 430 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. consented to alienate their country from the crown, 
 ~~ the domains of which he was bound by his coronation 
 oath to preserve entire and unimpaired. Francis, in 
 return, thanked them for their attachment to his crown, 
 and entreated them, though very faintly, to remember 
 the obligations which he lay under to fulfil his engage- 
 ments with the emperor. The deputies, assuming an 
 higher tone, declared, that they would not obey com- 
 mands which they considered as illegal; and, if he 
 should abandon them to the enemies of France, they 
 had resolved to defend themselves to the best of their 
 power, with a firm purpose rather to perish than 
 
 His answer, submit to a foreign dominion. Upon which Francis, 
 turning towards the imperial ambassadors, represented 
 to them the impossibility of performing what he had 
 undertaken, and offered, in lieu of Burgundy, to pay 
 the emperor two millions of crowns. The viceroy and 
 Alarcon, who easily perceived, that the scene to which 
 they had been witnesses was concerted between the 
 king and his subjects in order to impose upon them, 
 signified to him their master's fixed resolution not to 
 depart in the smallest point from the terms of the 
 treaty, and withdrew e . Before they left the kingdom, 
 they had the mortification to hear the holy league 
 
 June 11. against the emperor published with great solemnity. 
 
 The empe- Charles no sooner received an account of this con- 
 federacy, than he exclaimed, in the most public man- 
 ner, and in the harshest terms, against Francis, as a 
 prince void of faith and of honour. He complained no 
 less of Clement, whom he solicited in vain to abandon 
 his new allies ; he accused him of ingratitude ; he 
 taxed him with an ambition unbecoming his character ; 
 he threatened him not only with all the vengeance 
 which the power of an emperor can inflict, but, by ap- 
 pealing to a general council, called up before his eyes 
 all the terrours arising from the authority of those 
 
 e Belcar. Comment, de Reb. Gal. p. 573. Me"m. de Bellay.p. 97.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 431 
 
 assemblies so formidable to the papal see. It was 1526. 
 necessary, however, to oppose something else than ~~ 
 reproaches and threats to the powerful combination 
 formed against him ; and the emperor, prompted by so 
 many passions, did not fail to exert himself with un- 
 usual vigour, in order to send supplies, not only of 
 men, but of money, which was still more needed, into 
 Italy. 
 
 On the other hand, the efforts of the confederates Feeble ope- 
 bore no proportion to that animosity against the em- r f tions 
 peror, with which they seemed to enter into the holy federates, 
 league. Francis, it was thought, would have infused 
 spirit and vigour into the whole body. He had his 
 lost honour to repair, many injuries to revenge, and the 
 station among the princes of Europe, from which he 
 had fallen, to recover. From all these powerful incite- 
 ments, added to the natural impetuosity of his temper, 
 a war more fierce and bloody than any that he had 
 hitherto made upon his rival, was expected. But 
 Francis had gone through such a scene of distress, and 
 the impression it had made was still so fresh in his 
 memory, that he was become diffident himself, distrust- 
 ful of fortune, and desirous of tranquillity. To procure 
 the release of his sons, and to avoid the restitution of 
 Burgundy by paying some reasonable equivalent, were 
 his chief objects; and for the sake of these, he would 
 willingly have sacrificed Sforza, and the liberties of 
 Italy, to the emperor. He flattered himself, that the 
 dread of the confederacy which he had formed would 
 of itself induce Charles to listen to what was equitable; 
 and was afraid of employing any considerable force for 
 the relief of the Milanese, lest his allies, whom he 
 had often found to be more attentive to their own 
 interest, than punctual in fulfilling their engagements, 
 should abandon him as soon as the imperialists were 
 driven out of that country, and deprive his negotiations 
 with the emperor of that weight which they derived
 
 432 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK rv. 
 
 1526. from his being at the head of a powerful league. In 
 ~~ the mean time the castle of Milan was pressed more 
 closely than ever, and Sforza was now reduced to the 
 last extremity. The pope and Venetians, trusting to 
 Francis's concurrence, commanded their troops to take 
 the field, in order to relieve him ; and an army more 
 than sufficient for that service was soon formed. The 
 Milanese, passionately attached to their unfortunate 
 duke, and no less exasperated against the imperialists, 
 who had oppressed them so cruelly, were ready to aid 
 the confederates in all their enterprises. But the duke 
 d'Urbino, their general, naturally slow and indecisive, 
 and restrained, besides, by his ancient enmity to the 
 family of Medici, from taking any step that might ag- 
 grandize or add reputation to the pope f , lost some 
 opportunities of attacking the imperialists, and raising 
 the siege, and refused to improve others. These 
 July 24. delays gave Bourbon time to bring up a reinforcement 
 of fresh troops, and a supply of money. He imme- 
 diately took the command of the army, and pushed on 
 the siege with such vigour, as quickly obliged Sforza 
 to surrender ; who, retiring to Lodi, which the con- 
 federates had surprised, left Bourbon in full possession 
 of the rest of the dutchy, the investiture of which the 
 emperor had promised to grant him g . 
 
 Disquie- The Italians began now to perceive the game which 
 tude of the F ranc is had played, and to be sensible that, notwith- 
 powers. standing all their address and refinements in negotia- 
 tion, which they boasted of as talents peculiarly their 
 own, they had for once been overreached in those very 
 arts by a 'tramontane' prince. He had hitherto 
 thrown almost the whole burthen of the war upon 
 them, taking advantage of their efforts, in order to en- 
 force the proposals which he often renewed at the 
 court of Madrid for obtaining the liberty of his sons. 
 
 f Guic, lib. xvii. 382. Ibid. lib. xvii. 376, etc.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 433 
 
 The pope and Venetians expostulated and complain- 1526. 
 ed h ; but as they were not able to rouse Francis from ~~ 
 his inactivity, their own zeal and vigour gradually 
 abated ; and Clement, having already gone farther 
 than his timidity usually permitted him, began to 
 accuse himself of rashness, and to relapse into his 
 natural state of doubt and uncertainty. 
 
 All the emperor's motions depending on himself Measures 
 alone, were more brisk and better concerted. The 
 narrowness of his revenues, indeed, did not allow him 
 to make any sudden or great effort in the field, but he 
 abundantly supplied that defect by his intrigues and 
 negotiations. The family of Colonna, the most power- 
 ful of all the Roman barons, had adhered uniformly to 
 the ghibeline or imperial faction, during those fierce 
 contentions between the popes and emperors, which 
 for several ages filled Italy and Germany with discord 
 and bloodshed. Though the causes which at first 
 gave birth to these destructive factions existed no 
 longer, and the rage with which they had been ani- 
 mated was in a great measure spent, the Colonnas still 
 retained their attachment to the imperial interest, and, 
 by placing themselves under the protection of the em- 
 perors, secured the quiet possession of their own terri- 
 tories and privileges. The cardinal Pompeo Colonna, 
 a man of a turbulent and ambitious temper, at that 
 time the head of the family, had long been Clement's 
 rival, to whose influence in the last conclave he 
 imputed the disappointment of all his schemes for 
 attaining the papal dignity, of which, from his known 
 connexion with the emperor, he thought himself secure. 
 To an aspiring mind, this was an injury too great to 
 be forgiven ; and though he had dissembled his resent- 
 ment so far as to vote for Clement at his election, and 
 to accept of great offices in his court, he waited with 
 the utmost impatience for an opportunity of being 
 
 h Kuscelli. Lettere de* Principi, ii. 15, etc. 159, 160. 166. 
 VOL. III. F f
 
 434 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. revenged. Don Hugo de Moncada, the imperial am- 
 " bassador at Rome, who was no stranger to these senti- 
 ments, easily persuaded him that now was the time, 
 while all the papal troops were employed in Lombardy, 
 to attempt something, which would at once avenge his 
 own wrongs, and be of essential service to the emperor 
 his patron. The pope, however, whose timidity rendered 
 him quick-sighted, was so attentive to their operations, 
 and began to be alarmed so early, that he might have 
 drawn together troops sufficient to have disconcerted 
 all Colonna's measures. But Moncada amused him so 
 artfully with negotiations, promises, and false intelli- 
 gence, that he lulled asleep all his suspicions, and pre- 
 vented his taking any of the precautions necessary for 
 his safety ; and, to the disgrace of a prince possessed of 
 great power, as well as renowned for political wisdom, 
 Sept. 29. Colonna, at the head of three thousand men, seized 
 The Co on- one Q f fa e g a t es o f his capital, while he, imagining 
 masters of himself to be in perfect security, was altogether unpre- 
 pared for resisting such a feeble enemy. The inhabit- 
 ants of Rome permitted Colonna's troops, from whom 
 they apprehended no injury, to advance without oppo- 
 sition ; the pope's guards were dispersed in a moment ; 
 and Clement himself, terrified at the danger, ashamed 
 of his own credulity, and deserted by almost every 
 person, fled with precipitation into the castle of St. 
 Angelo, which was immediately invested. The palace 
 of the Vatican, the church of St. Peter, and the houses 
 of the pope's ministers and servants, were plundered in 
 the most licentious manner. The rest of the city was left 
 unmolested. Clement, destitute of every thing neces- 
 Accommo- sary either for subsistence or defence, was soon obliged 
 tween the to Demand a capitulation ; and Moncada, being admit- 
 pope and ted into the castle, prescribed to him, with all the 
 emperor, haughtiness of a conqueror, conditions which it was 
 not in his power to reject. The chief of these was : 
 That Clement should not only grant a full pardon to 
 the Colonnas, but receive them into favour, and imme-
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 435 
 
 diately withdraw all the troops in his pay from the 1526. 
 army of the confederates in Lombardy '. 
 
 The Colonnas, who talked of nothing less than of 
 deposing Clement, and of placing Pompeo, their kins- 
 man, in the vacant chair of St. Peter, exclaimed loudly 
 against a treaty which left them at the mercy of a pon- 
 tiff justly incensed against them. But Moncada, atten- 
 tive only to his master's interest, paid little regard to 
 their complaints, and, by this fortunate measure, broke 
 entirely the power of the confederates. 
 
 While the army of the confederates suffered such a The impe- 
 considerable diminution, the imperialists received two 
 great reinforcements ; one from Spain, under the com- 
 mand of Lannoy and Alarcon, which amounted to six 
 thousand men; the other was raised in the empire by 
 George Fronsperg, a German nobleman, who, having 
 served in Italy with great reputation, had acquired 
 such influence and popularity, that multitudes of his 
 countrymen, fond on every occasion of engaging in 
 military enterprises, and impatient at that juncture to 
 escape from the oppression which they felt in religious 
 as well as civil matters, crowded to his standard ; so 
 that, without any other gratuity than the payment of a 
 crown to each man, fourteen thousand enlisted in his 
 service. To these the archduke Ferdinand added two 
 thousand horse, levied in the Austrian dominions. But 
 although the emperor had raised troops, he could not 
 remit the sums necessary for their support. His ordi- 
 nary revenues were exhausted; the credit of princes, 
 during the infancy of commerce, was not extensive ; 
 and the cortes of Castile, though every art had been 
 tried to gain them, and some innovations had been 
 made in the constitution, in order to secure their con- 
 currence, peremptorily refused to grant Charles any 
 extraordinary supply k ; so that the more his army in- 
 
 ' Jovii Vita Pomp. Colon. Guic. lib. xvii. 407. Ruscelli, Letter? de' 
 Principi. i. 104. k Sandov. i. 814. 
 
 Ff2
 
 436 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1526. creased in number, the more were his generals embar- 
 ~ rassed and distressed. Bourbon, in particular, was in- 
 volved in such difficulties, that he stood in need of all 
 his address and courage in order to extricate himself. 
 Large sums were due to the Spanish troops already in 
 the Milanese, when Fronsperg arrived with sixteen 
 thousand hungry Germans, destitute of every thing. 
 Theempe- Both made their demands with equal fierceness; the 
 nances defi- former claiming their arrears, and the latter, the pay 
 i Sent. which had been promised them on their entering Lom- 
 bardy. Bourbon was altogether incapable of giving 
 satisfaction to either. In this situation, he was con- 
 strained to commit acts of violence extremely shocking 
 to his own nature, which was generous and humane. 
 He seized the principal citizens of Milan, and by 
 threats, and even by torture, forced from them a con- 
 siderable sum ; he rifled the churches of all their plate 
 and ornaments; the inadequate supply which these 
 afforded, he distributed among the soldiers, with so 
 many soothing expressions of his sympathy and affec- 
 tion, that, though it fell far short of the sums due to 
 them, it appeased their present murmurs '. 
 Bourbon Among other expedients for raising money, Bourbon 
 
 S rantetl nis life and ' bert y to Morone, who having 
 been kept in prison since his intrigue with Pescara, 
 had been condemned to die by the Spanish judges 
 empowered to try him. For this remission he paid 
 twenty thousand ducats; and such were his singular 
 talents, and the wonderful ascendant which he always 
 acquired over the minds of those to whom he had ac- 
 cess, that, in a few days, from being Bourbon's pri- 
 soner, he became his prime confidant, with whom he 
 consulted in all affairs of importance. To his insinua- 
 tions must be imputed the suspicions which Bourbon 
 began to entertain, that the emperor had never in- 
 tended to grant him the investiture of Milan, but had 
 
 1 Ripamond. Hist. Medici, lib. ix. 717.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. W7 
 
 appointed Leyva, and the other Spanish generals, 1526. 
 rather to be spies on his conduct, than to cooperate . 
 heartily towards the execution of his schemes. To 
 him, likewise, as he still retained, at the age of four- 
 score, all the enterprising spirit of youth, may be attri- 
 buted the hold and unexpected measure on which 
 Bourbon soon after ventured'". 
 
 Such, indeed, were the exigencies of the imperial His deliber- 
 
 troops in the Milanese, that it became indispensably 
 
 necessary to take some immediate step for their relief. 1S motions. 
 The arrears of the soldiers increased daily ; the em- 
 peror made no remittances to his generals; and the 
 utmost rigour of military extortion could draw nothing 
 more from a country entirely drained and ruined. In 
 this situation there was no choice left, but either to 
 disband the army, or to march for subsistence into the 
 enemy's country. The territories of the Venetians lay 
 nearest at hand ; but they, with their usual foresight 
 and prudence, had taken such precautions as secured 
 them from any insult. Nothing, therefore, remained 
 but to invade the dominions of the church, or of the 
 Florentines; and Clement had of late acted such a 
 part, as merited the severest vengeance from the em- 
 peror. No sooner did the papal troops return to 
 Rome after the insurrection of the Colonnas, than, 
 without paying any regard to the treaty with Moncada, 
 he degraded the cardinal Colonna, excommunicated 
 the rest of the family, seized their places of strength, 
 and wasted their lands with all the cruelty which the 
 -mart of a recent injury naturally excites. After this 
 he turned his arms against Naples, and as his opera- 
 tion- \\rrr ^econded by the French fleet, lit- made some 
 progress towards the conquest of that kingdom ; the 
 viceroy being no less destitute than the other impe- 
 rial generals <t the money requisite for a vigorous de- 
 fence". 
 
 " Guic. hi). \vii. ll!>. 
 
 Jovii Vit.i I'liinp. Colon, (iuic. lib. xviii. 424.
 
 438 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1527. These proceedings of the pope justified, in appear- 
 Marches to ance > ^ ie measures which Bourbon's situation rendered 
 invade the necessary ; and he set about executing them under 
 mories. such disadvantages, as furnish the strongest proof both 
 of the despair to which he was reduced, and of the 
 greatness of his abilities, which were able to surmount 
 so many obstacles. Having committed the government 
 of Milan to Leyva, whom he was not unwilling to leave 
 Jan. 30. behind, he began his march in the depth of winter, 
 at the head of twenty-five thousand men, composed of 
 nations differing from each other in language and man- 
 ners; without money, without magazines, without artil- 
 lery, without carriages ; in short, without any of those 
 things which are necessary to the smallest party, and 
 which seem essential to the existence and motions of a 
 great army. His route lay through a country cut by 
 rivers and mountains, in which the roads were almost 
 impracticable ; as an addition to his difficulties, the 
 enemy's army, superior to his own in number, was at 
 hand to watch all his motions, and to improve every 
 advantage. But his troops, impatient of their present 
 hardships, and allured by the hopes of immense booty, 
 without considering how ill provided they were for a 
 inarch, followed him with great cheerfulness. His first 
 scheme was to have made himself master of Placentia, 
 and to have gratified his soldiers by the plunder of 
 that city : but the vigilance of the confederate generals 
 rendered the design abortive ; nor had he better suc- 
 cess in his project for the reduction of Bologna, which 
 was seasonably supplied with as many troops as se- 
 cured it from the insults of an army which had neither 
 artillery nor ammunition. Having failed in both these 
 attempts to become master of some great city, he was 
 under a necessity of advancing. But he had now been 
 two months in the field ; his troops had suffered every 
 calamity that a long march, together with the uncom- 
 mon rigour of the season, could bring upon men desti- 
 tute of all necessary accommodations in an enemy's
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 439 
 
 country ; the magnificent promises to which they trust- 1527. 
 ed, had hitherto proved altogether vain ; they saw no ~ 
 prospect of relief; their patience, tried to the utmost, 
 failed at last, and they broke out into open mutiny. Mutiny of 
 Some officers, who rashly attempted to restrain them, " 
 fell victims to their fury. Bourbon himself, not daring 
 to appear during the first transports of their rage, was 
 obliged to fly secretly from his quarters . But this 
 sudden ebullition of wrath began at last to subside ; 
 when Bourbon, who possessed, in a wonderful degree, 
 the art of governing the minds of soldiers, renewed his 
 promises with more confidence than formerly, and as- 
 sured them that they would be soon accomplished. 
 He endeavoured to render their hardships more toler- 
 able, by partaking of them himself; he fared no better 
 than the meanest sentinel ; he marched along with 
 them on foot; he joined them in singing their camp 
 ballads, in which, with high praises of his valour, they 
 mingled many strokes of military raillery on his po- 
 verty ; and wherever they came, he allowed them, as a 
 foretaste of what he had promised, to plunder the ad- 
 jacent villages at discretion. Encouraged by all these 
 soothing arts, they entirely forgot their sufferings and 
 complaints, and followed him with the same implicit 
 confidence as formerly p . 
 
 Bourbon, meanwhile, carefully concealed his inten- The pope's 
 tions. Rome and Florence, not knowing on which the '"^solution 
 
 and impru- 
 blow would fall, were held in the most disquieting state dence. 
 
 of suspense. Clement, equally solicitous for the safety 
 of both, fluctuated in more than his usual uncertainty ; 
 and while the rapid approach of danger called for 
 prompt and decisive measures, he spent the time in 
 deliberations which came to no issue, or in taking reso- 
 lutions, which, next day, his restless mind, more saga- 
 cious in discerning than in obviating difficulties, over- 
 
 Guic. lib. xviii. 434. Jovii Vit. Colon. 163. 
 >' Oeuvres de Brant, vol. iv. 246, etc.
 
 440 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1527. 
 
 March 15. 
 Concludes 
 a treaty 
 with the 
 viceroy of 
 Naples ; 
 
 which 
 
 Bourbon 
 
 disregards. 
 
 turned, without being able to fix on what should be 
 substituted in their place. At one time he determined 
 to unite himself more closely than ever with his allies, 
 and to push on the war with vigour; at another, he 
 inclined to bring all differences to a final accommo- 
 dation by a treaty with Lannoy, who, knowing his 
 passion for negotiation, solicited him incessantly with 
 proposals for that purpose. His timidity at length 
 prevailed, and led him to conclude an agreement with 
 Lannoy, of which the following were the chief articles : 
 That a suspension of arms should take place between 
 the pontifical and imperial troops for eight months : 
 that Clement should advance sixty thousand crowns 
 towards satisfying the demands of the imperial army : 
 that the Colonnas should be absolved from censure, 
 and their former dignities and possessions be restored 
 to them : that the viceroy should come to Rome, and 
 prevent Bourbon from approaching nearer to that city, 
 or to Florence q . On this hasty treaty, which deprived 
 him of all hopes of assistance from his allies, without 
 affording him any solid foundation of security, Clement 
 relied so firmly, that, like a man extricated at once out 
 of all difficulties, he was at perfect ease, and, in the 
 fulness of his confidence, disbanded all his troops ex- 
 cept as many as were sufficient to guard his own 
 person. This amazing confidence of Clement, who on 
 every other occasion was fearful and suspicious to ex- 
 cess, appeared so unaccountable to Guicciardini, who, 
 being at that time the pontifical commissary-general 
 and resident in the confederate army, had great oppor- 
 tunities, as well as great abilities, for observing how 
 chimerical all his hopes were, that he imputes the 
 pope's conduct, at this juncture, wholly to infatuation, 
 which those who are doomed to ruin cannot avoid r . 
 
 Lannoy, it would seem, intended to have executed 
 the treaty with great sincerity; and having detached 
 
 Guic. lib. xviii. 436. 
 
 Id. ibid. 446.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 441 
 
 Clement from the confederacy, wished to turn Bour- 1527 
 
 bon's arms against the Venetians, who, of all the 
 powers at war with the emperor, had exerted the 
 greatest vigour. With this view he despatched a cou- 
 rier to Bourbon, informing him of the suspension of 
 arms, which, in the name of their common master, he 
 had concluded with the pope. Bourbon had other 
 schemes, and he had prosecuted them now too far to 
 think of retreating. To have mentioned a retreat to 
 his soldiers would have been dangerous ; his command 
 was independent of Lannoy ; he was fond of mortifying 
 a man whom he hud many reasons to hate : for these 
 reasons, without paying the least regard to the mes- 
 sage, he continued to ravage the ecclesiastical territo- 
 ries, and to advance towards Florence. Upon this, all 
 Clement's terrour and anxiety returning with new force, 
 he had recourse to Lannoy, and entreated and con- 
 jured him to put a stop to Bourbon's progress. Lan- 
 noy accordingly set out for his camp, but durst not 
 approach it; Bourbon's soldiers having got notice of 
 the truce, raged and threatened, demanding the ac- 
 complishment of the promises to which they had trust- 
 ed ; their general himself could hardly restrain them ; 
 every person in Rome perceived that nothing remained 
 but to prepare for resisting a storm which it was now 
 impossible to dispel. Clement alone, relying on some 
 ambiguous and deceitful professions, which Bourbon 
 made of his inclination towards peace, sunk back into 
 his former security s . 
 
 Bourbon, on his part, was far from being free from Advances 
 solicitude. All his attempts on any place of import- 
 ance had hitherto miscarried ; and Florence, towards 
 which he had been approaching for some time, was, 
 by the arrival of the duke d'Urbino's army, put in a 
 condition to set his power at defiance. As it now be- 
 came necessary to change his route, and to take in- 
 
 Guie. lil>. xviii. 137, tic-. M6in. do Wcllay, p. 100.
 
 442 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1527. stantly some new resolution, he fixed, without hesita- 
 ~~ tion, on one which was no less daring in itself, than it 
 was impious, according to the opinion of that age. 
 This was to assault and plunder Rome. Many rea- 
 sons, however, prompted him to it. He was fond of 
 thwarting Lannoy, who had undertaken for the safety 
 of that city ; he imagined that the emperor would be 
 highly pleased to see Clement, the chief author of the 
 league against him, humbled ; he flattered himself, that 
 by gratifying the rapacity of his soldiers with such im- 
 mense booty, he would attach them for ever to his in- 
 terest; or, which is still more probable than any of 
 these, he hoped that, by means of the power and fame 
 which he would acquire from the conquest of the first 
 city in Christendom, he might lay the foundation of an 
 independent power ; and that, after shaking off all 
 connexion 'with the emperor, he might take possession 
 of Naples, or of some of the Italian states, in his own 
 name '. 
 
 The pope's Whatever his motives were, he executed his resolu- 
 uon^for tion w ^h a rapidity equal to the boldness with which 
 defence. he had formed it. His soldiers, now that they had 
 their prey full in view, complained neither of fatigue, 
 nor famine, nor want of pay. No sooner did they 
 begin to move from Tuscany towards Rome, than the 
 pope, sensible at last how fallacious the hopes had 
 been on which he reposed, started from his security. 
 But no time now remained, even for a bold and de- 
 cisive pontiff, to have taken proper measures, or to 
 have formed any effectual plan of defence. Under 
 Clement's feeble conduct, all was consternation, dis- 
 order, and irresolution. He collected, however, such 
 of his disbanded soldiers as still remained in the city ; 
 he armed the artificers of Rome, and the footmen and 
 trainbearers of the cardinals ; he repaired the breaches 
 in the walls ; he began to erect new works ; he excom- 
 
 1 Brant, iv. 271. vi. 18f>. Uelcarii Comment. 594.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 443 
 
 municated Bourbon and all his troops, branding the 1527. 
 Germans with the name of lutherans, and the Spa- 
 niards with that of Moors". Trusting to these inef- 
 fectual military preparations, or to his spiritual arms, 
 which were still more despised by rapacious soldiers, 
 he seems to have laid aside his natural timidity, and, 
 contrary to the advice of all his counsellors, deter- 
 mined to wait the approach of an enemy whom he 
 might easily have avoided by a timely retreat. 
 
 Bourbon, who saw the necessity of despatch, now Assault of 
 that his intentions were known, advanced with such Rome - 
 speed, that he gained several marches on the duke 
 d'Urbino's army, and encamped in the plains of Rome 
 on the evening of the fifth of May. From thence he 
 showed his soldiers the palaces and churches of that 
 city, into which, as the capital of the Christian com- 
 monwealth, the riches of all Europe had flowed during 
 many centuries, without having been once violated by 
 any hostile hand ; and commanding them to refresh 
 themselves that night, as a preparation for the assault 
 next day, promised them, in reward of their toils and 
 valour, the possession of all the treasures accumulated 
 there. 
 
 Early in the morning, Bourbon, who had determined 
 to distinguish that day either by his death or the suc- 
 cess of his enterprise, appeared at the head of his 
 troops clad in complete armour, above which he wore 
 a vest of white tissue, that he might be more conspicu- 
 ous both to his friends and to his enemies ; and as all 
 depended on one bold impression, he led them in- 
 stantly to scale the walls. Three distinct bodies, one 
 of Germans, another of Spaniards, and the last of 
 Italians, the three different nations of whom the army 
 was composed, were appointed to this service ; a sepa- 
 rate attack was assigned to each ; and the whole army 
 advanced to support them, as occasion should require. 
 
 Seckeod. lib. ii. 68.
 
 444 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1527. A thick mist concealed their approach until they reacli- 
 ~~ ed almost the brink of the ditch which surrounded the 
 suburbs: having planted their ladders in a moment, 
 each brigade rushed on the assault with an impetuosity 
 heightened by national emulation. They were received 
 at first with fortitude equal to their own ; the Swiss in 
 the pope's guards, and the veteran soldiers who had 
 been assembled, fought with a courage becoming men 
 to whom the defence of the noblest city in the world 
 was intrusted. Bourbon's troops, notwithstanding all 
 their valour, gained no ground, and even began to give 
 way ; when their leader, perceiving that on this critical 
 moment the fate of the day depended, leaped from his 
 horse, pressed to the front, snatched a scaling ladder 
 from a soldier, planted it against the wall, and began 
 to mount it, encouraging his men with his voice and 
 
 Hourbon hand to follow him. But at that very instant, a musket 
 bullet from the ramparts pierced his groin with a 
 wound, which he immediately felt to be mortal; but 
 he retained so much presence of mind as to desire 
 those who were near him to cover his body with a 
 cloak, that his death might not dishearten his troops ; 
 and soon after he expired with a courage worthy of a 
 better cause, and which would have entitled him to 
 the highest praise, if he had thus fallen in defence of 
 his country, and not at the head of its enemies x . 
 
 The city This fatal event could not be concealed from the 
 army; the soldiers soon missed their general, whom 
 they were accustomed to see in every time of danger : 
 but instead of being disheartened by their loss, it ani- 
 mated them with new valour; the name of Bourbon 
 resounded along the line, accompanied with the cry of 
 ' blood' and ' revenge.' The veterans who defended 
 the walls were soon overpowered by numbers ; the un- 
 trained body of city recruits fled at the sight of dan- 
 
 x Mem. de Bellay, 101. Guic. lib. xviii. 445, etc. Oeuv. de Brant, 
 iv. 257, etc.
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 445 
 
 ger ; and the enemy, with irresistible violence, rushed 1527. 
 
 into the town. 
 
 During the combat, Clement was employed at the 
 high altar of St. Peter's church in offering up to 
 heaven unavailing prayers for victory. No sooner was 
 he informed that his troops began to give way, than 
 he fled with precipitation ; and with an infatuation still 
 more amazing than any thing already mentioned, in- 
 stead of making his escape by the opposite gate, where 
 there was no enemy to oppose it, he shut himself up, 
 together with thirteen cardinals, the foreign ambassa- 
 dors, and many persons of distinction, in the castle of 
 St. Angelo, which, from his late misfortune, he might 
 have known to be an insecure retreat. In his way 
 from the Vatican to that fortress, he saw his troops 
 flying before an enemy, who pursued without giving 
 quarter; he heard the cries and lamentations of the 
 Roman citizens, and beheld the beginning of those 
 calamities which his own credulity and ill conduct had 
 brought upon his subjects y . 
 
 It is impossible to describe, or even to imagine, the plundered. 
 misery and horrour of that scene which followed. 
 Whatever a city taken by storm can dread from mili- 
 tary rage, unrestrained by discipline ; whatever ex- 
 cesses the ferocity of the Germans, the avarice of the 
 Spaniards, or the licentiousness of the Italians could 
 commit, these the wretched inhabitants were obliged 
 to suffer. Churches, palaces, and the houses of pri- 
 vate persons were plundered without distinction. No 
 age, or character, or sex, was exempt from injury. 
 Cardinals, nobles, priests, matrons, virgins, were all 
 the prey of soldiers, and at the mercy of men deaf to 
 the voice of humanity. Nor did these outrages cease, 
 as is usual in towns which are carried by assault, when 
 the first fury of the storm was over; the imperialists 
 kept possession of Rome several months; and, during 
 
 i Jov. Vit. Colon. 165.
 
 4443 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1527. all that time, the insolence and brutality of the soldiers 
 ~ hardly abated. Their booty in ready money alone 
 amounted to a million of ducats ; what they raised by 
 ransoms and exactions far exceeded that sum. Rome, 
 though taken several different times by the northern 
 nations, who overran the empire in the fifth and sixth 
 centuries, was never treated with so much cruelty by 
 the barbarous and heathen Huns, Vandals, or Goths, 
 as now by the bigoted subjects of a catholic monarch 2 . 
 
 The pope After Bourbon's death, the command of the impe- 
 d . in rial army devolved on Philibert de Chalons, prince of 
 
 of St. An- Orange, who with difficulty prevailed on as many of 
 his soldiers to desist from the pillage, as were neces- 
 sary to invest the castle of St. Angelo. Clement was 
 immediately sensible of his errour in having retired 
 into that ill-provided and untenable fort. But as the 
 imperialists, scorning discipline, and intent only on 
 plunder, pushed the siege with little vigour, he did 
 not despair of holding out until the duke d'Urbino 
 could come to his relief. That general advanced at 
 the head of an army composed of Venetians, Floren- 
 tines, and Swiss, in the pay of France, of sufficient 
 strength to have delivered Clement from the present 
 danger. But d'Urbino, preferring the indulgence of 
 his hatred against the family of Medici to the glory 
 of delivering the capital of Christendom, and the head 
 of the church, pronounced the enterprise to be too 
 hazardous ; and, from an exquisite refinement in re- 
 venge, having marched forward so far, that his army 
 being seen from the ramparts of St. Angelo flattered 
 the pope with the prospect of certain relief, he imme- 
 diately wheeled about, and retired a . Clement, deprived 
 of every resource, and reduced to such extremity of 
 famine as to feed on asses' flesh b , was obliged to capi- 
 
 z Jov. Vit. Colon. 166. Guic. lib. xviii. 440, etc. Comment, de Capta 
 Urbe Romae ap. Scardium, ii. 230. Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V. p. 110, etc. 
 Giannonne, Hist, of Nap. b. xxxi. c. 3. p. 507. 
 
 a Guic. lib. xviii. 450. b Jov. Vit. Colon. 167. 
 
 :
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 447 
 
 pitulate on such conditions as the conquerors were 1527. 
 pleased to prescribe. He agreed to pay four hundred June 6 
 
 thousand ducats to the army ; to surrender to the Surrenders 
 
 11 11 r- iii-' i himself a 
 
 emperor all the places or strength belonging to the prisoner. 
 
 church ; and, besides giving hostages, to remain a pri- 
 soner himself until the chief articles were performed. 
 He was committed to the care of Alarcon, who, by his 
 severe vigilance in guarding Francis, had given full 
 proof of his being qualified for that office ; and thus, 
 by a singular accident, the same man had the custody 
 of the two most illustrious personages who had been 
 made prisoners in Europe during several ages. 
 
 The account of this extraordinary and unexpected The em- 
 event was no less surprising than agreeable to the em- P erc ? r s bc ~ 
 
 * haviour at 
 
 peror. But in order to conceal his joy from his sub- this junc- 
 jects, who were filled with horrour at the success and tu 
 crimes of thei/ countrymen, and to lessen the indigna- 
 tion of the rest of Europe, he declared that Rome had 
 been assaulted without any order from him. He wrote 
 to all the princes with whom he was in alliance, dis- 
 claiming his having had any knowledge of Bourbon's 
 intention . He put himself and court into mourning; 
 commanded the rejoicings which had been ordered for 
 the birth of his son Philip to be stopped ; and, employ- 
 ing an artifice no less hypocritical than gross, he ap- 
 pointed prayers and processions throughout all Spain 
 for the recovery of the pope's liberty, which by an 
 order to his generals, he could have immediately 
 granted him d . 
 
 The good fortune of the house of Austria was no Soiyman 
 less conspicuous in another part of Europe. Soiyman 1 " v * de! 
 having invaded Hungary with an army of three hun- 
 dred thousand men, Lewis the second, king of that 
 country, and of Bohemia, a weak and unexperienced 
 prince, advanced rashly to meet him with a body of 
 
 c Ruscelli, Lettere de' Principi, ii. 234. 
 
 ' Slpi.l. 109. Sandov. i. 822. Mauroo. Hist. Veneta. lib. iii. 220.
 
 448 
 
 THE REIGN OF THE BOOK iv. 
 
 1527. 
 
 Aug. 29, 
 1526. 
 Defeat of 
 the Hun- 
 garians, 
 and death 
 of their 
 king. 
 
 Ferdinand 
 
 elected 
 
 king. 
 
 men, which did not amount to thirty thousand. With 
 " an imprudence still more unpardonable, he gave the 
 command of these troops to Paul Tomorri, a francis- 
 can monk, archbishop of Golocza. This awkward 
 general, in the dress of his order, girt with its cord, 
 marched at the head of the troops ; and hurried on by 
 his own presumption, as well as by the impetuosity of 
 nobles who despised danger, but were impatient of 
 long service, he fought the fatal battle of Mohacz, in 
 which the king, the flower of the Hungarian nobility, 
 and upwards of twenty thousand men, fell the victims 
 of his folly and ill conduct. Solyman, after his victory, 
 seized and kept possession of several towns of the 
 greatest strength in the southern provinces of Hun- 
 gary, and, overrunning the rest of the country, carried 
 near two hundred thousand persons into captivity. As 
 Lewis was the last male of the royal family of Jagel- 
 lon, the archduke Ferdinand claimed both his crowns. 
 This claim was founded on a double title ; the one de- 
 rived from the ancient pretensions of the house of 
 Austria to both kingdoms ; the other, from the right 
 of his wife, the only sister of the deceased monarch. 
 The feudal institutions, however, subsisted both in 
 Hungary and Bohemia in such vigour, and the nobles 
 possessed such extensive power, that the crowns were 
 still elective, and Ferdinand's rights, if they had not 
 been powerfully supported, would have met with little 
 regard. But his own personal merit; the respect due 
 to the brother of the greatest monarch in Christendom; 
 the necessity of choosing a prince able to afford his 
 subjects some additional protection against the Turkish 
 arms, which, as they had recently felt their power, 
 they greatly dreaded ; together with the intrigues of 
 his sister, who had been married to the late king, 
 overcame the prejudices which the Hungarians had 
 conceived against the archduke as a foreigner; and, 
 though a considerable party voted for the vaywode of 
 Transylvania, at length secured Ferdinand the throne
 
 BOOK iv. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 449 
 
 of that kingdom. The states of Bohemia imitated the 1527. 
 example of their neighbour kingdom ; but in order to *" 
 ascertain and secure their own privileges, they obliged 
 Ferdinand, before his coronation, to subscribe a deed, 
 which they term a ' reverse,' declaring that he held 
 that crown, not by any previous right, but by their 
 gratuitous and voluntary election. By such a vast ac- 
 cession of territories, the hereditary possession of which 
 they secured in process of time to their family, the 
 princes of the house of Austria attained that preemi- 
 nence in power which hath rendered them so formid- 
 able to the rest of Germany e . 
 
 The dissensions between the pope and emperor Progress of 
 
 the ret'or 
 nation. 
 
 proved extremely favourable to the progress of lu- l 
 theranism. Charles, exasperated by Clement's con- 
 duct, and fully employed in opposing the league which 
 he had formed against him, had little inclination, and 
 less leisure, to take any measures for suppressing the 
 new opinions in Germany. In a diet of the empire June 25, 
 held at Spires, the state of religion came to be con- 1526- 
 sidered ; and all that the emperor required of the 
 princes was, that they would wait patiently, and with- 
 out encouraging innovations, for the meeting of a 
 general council which he had demanded of the pope. 
 They, in return, acknowledged the convocation of a 
 council to be the proper and regular step towards re- 
 forming abuses in the church ; but contended, that a 
 national council held in Germany would be more effec- 
 tual for that purpose than what he had proposed. 
 To his advice, concerning the discouragement of inno- 
 vations, they paid so little regard, that even during 
 the meeting of the diet at Spires, the divines who at- 
 tended the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Ilesse- 
 Cassel thither, preached publicly, and administered 
 the sacraments, according to the rites of the reformed 
 
 'ph. Broderick 1'roc.incellarii Hun^ar. CladesinCampo Mnliar/, ap. 
 Scardium, ii. 218. P. Rarre, lii-t. <l Alleinagne, torn. viii. part. i. p. 198. 
 VOL. 111. < .U r
 
 4.50 THE REIGN OF THE, ETC. BOOK iv. 
 
 1527. church f . The emperor's own example emboldened 
 ~~ the Germans to treat the papal authority with Jittle 
 reverence. During the heat of his resentment against 
 Clement, he had published a long reply to an angry 
 brief, which the pope had intended as an apology for 
 his own conduct. In this manifesto, the emperor, after 
 having enumerated many instances of that pontiff's in- 
 gratitude, deceit, and ambition, all which he painted 
 in the strongest and most aggravated colours, appealed 
 from him to a general council. At the same time he 
 wrote to the college of cardinals, complaining of Cle- 
 ment's partiality and injustice; and requiring them, if 
 he refused or delayed to call a council, to show their 
 concern for the peace of the Christian church, so 
 shamefully neglected by its chief pastor, by summoning 
 that assembly in their own name g . This manifesto, 
 little inferior in virulence to the invectives of Luther 
 himself, was dispersed over Germany with great in- 
 dustry; and, being eagerly read by persons of every 
 rank, did much more than counterbalance the effect of 
 all Charles's declarations against the new opinions. 
 
 f Sleid. p. 103. e Goldast. Polit. Imper. p. 984. 
 
 THE END OF THE THIRD VOLUME. 
 
 1'IIINTKI) BY TAI.BOYS AND Will r.I.F.II, OXFOHD.
 
 Date Due 
 
 PRINTED 
 
 ,N U.S.*' 
 
 CAT. NO. 24 161
 
 1970 00624 9293