mk 1 • '••■«♦ ■ [£> - -Iff' t* - / PRINCETpN,,N. J. * ^ Presented by Mrs. Sanford H. Smith. I Sectu ■/.' Number SCO >v • Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://www.archive.org/details/historyofreignOOrobe I . ■ . r.K. ■ Harper's Edition, witk Copperplate Engravings. THE HISTORY OF THE REIGN EMPEROR CHARLES V. WITH A VIEW OF THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY IN EUROPE, FROM THE SUBVERSION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, TO THE BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. v/ BY WILLIAM ROBERTSON, D.D. PRINCIPAL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH, ETC. ETC. COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. PRhVTED BY J. ,$■ J. JMRPER, 82 CLIFF-STREET SOLD BY E. DUYCKINCK, COLLINS AND HANNAY, COLLINS AND CO., G. AND C. CARVILL, O. A. ROORBACH, W. B. GILLEY, AND E. BLISS ; PHILADELPHIA, CAREY, LEA, AND CAREY, TOWAR AND HOGAN, AND JOHN GRIGG ; BOSTON, RICHARDSON AND LORD, AND MILLIARD, GRAY, AND CO.; — BALTIMORE, F. LUCAS, JR. 1829. 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 instruction to Kings, as well as to their People. What reflections the reign of the Em- peror Charles V. may suggest to Your Majesty it becomes not me to conjecture. But your subjects cannot observe the various calami- ties which that Monarch's ambition to be distinguished 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, pos- sessed 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 military glory. Posterity will not only celebrate the wisdom of Your Majesty's choice, but will enumerate the many virtues which render Your Reio-n conspicuous for a sacred regard to all the duties incumbent on the Sovereign of a Free People. It is our happiness to feel the influence of these Virtues ; 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 transactions as tend to illustrate the pro- gress of its constitution, laws, or manners, merit the utmost attention. Even remote and minute events are objects of a curiosity, 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 concerning 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 influence their councils, and to regulate their measures. Some boundary, then, ought to be fixed in order to separate these periods. An era should be pointed out, prior to which each country, little connected with those around it, may trace its own history apart ; after which, transactions of every considerable nation in Europe become inte- resting and instructive to all. With this intention I undertook to write the history of the Emperor Charles V. 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 happened then have not hitherto spent their force. The political principles and maxims, then established, still continue to operate. The ideas concerning the balance of power, then introduced or rendered general, still influence the councils of nations. The age of Charles V. may therefore be considered as the period at which the political state of Europe began to assume a new form. I have endeavoured to render my account of it, an introduction to the history of Europe subsequent to his reign. While his numerous biographers describe his personal qualities and actions ; while the historians of different countries relate occurrences the consequences of which were local or transient, it hath been my purpose to record only those great transactions in hi* reign, the effects of which were universal, or continue to be permanent. As my readers could derive little instruction from such a history of the reign of Charles V. without some information concerning the state of Europe previous 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 improvements in the political state of Europe, from the subversion of the Roman Empire to the beginning of the 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 v, PREFACE. described the political constitution of the principal states in Europe at the time when Charles V. 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 history, under the title of Proofs and Illustrations. Many of my readers will, pro- bably, give little attention 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 exact- ness, which might appear to border upon ostentation, if it were possible to be vain of having read books, many of which nothing but the duty of examining with accuracy whatever I laid before the Public, would have induced me to open. As my inquiries conducted me often into paths which were obscure or little frequented, such constant references to the authors who have been my guides, were not only necessary for authen- ticating the facts which are the foundations 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 researches with greater facility and success. Every intelligent reader will observe one omission in my work, the reason of which it is necessary to explain. I have given no account of the conquests of Mexico and Peru, or of the establishment of the Spanish colo- nies 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 Europears settlements in its various provinces, together with the influence of these upon the systems of policy, or commerce of 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, it the per- formance now offered to the Public shall receive its approbation, I purpose to undertake. Though, by omitting such considerable but detached articles it) the reign of Charles V. I have circumscribed my narration within more narrow limits, I am yet persuaded, from this view of the intention and nature 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, &c. SECTION I. View of the Progress of Society in Europe, with respect to interior Govsm~ ment, Laws, and Manners. Two great revolutions have happened in the political state, and in the manners of the European nations. The first was occasioned by the pro- gress of the Roman 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 barbarians, 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, decide the fate of a state. The vanquished people resumed their arms with fresh spirit, and their undis- ciplined valour, animated by the love of liberty, supplied the want of conduct as well as of union. During those long and fierce struggles for dominion or independence, 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 remnant, incapable of further resistance, submitted to the Roman power. The Romans having thus desolated Europe, set themselves to civilize it. The form of government which they established in the conquered pro- vinces, though severe, was regular, and preserved public tranquillity. As a consolation for the loss of liberty, they communicated their arts, sciences, language, and manners, to their new subjects. Europe began to breathe, and to recover strength after the calamities which it had undergone ; agri- culture was encouraged ; population increased ; the ruined cities were rebuilt ; new towns were founded ; an appearance of prosperity suc- ceeded, and repaired, in some degree, the havoc of war. This state, however, was far from being happy or favourable to the im- provement of the human mind. The vanquished nations were disarmed by their conquerors, and overawed by soldiers kept in pay to restrain them. They were given up as a prey to rapacious 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 bis commands. Under so many depressing; circumstances, it was p A VIEW OF THE [Sect. I. 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 subjected to the Roman yoke ; they lost not only the habit, but even the capacity of de- ciding for themselves, or of acting from the impulse of their own minds ; and the dominions of the Romans, like that of all great empires, degraded and debased the human species [l]. A society in such a state could not subsist long. There were defects in the Roman government, even in its most perfect form, which threatened its dissolution. Time ripened these original seeds of corruption, and gave birth to many new disorders. A constitution, unsound and worn out, must have fallen into pieces of itself, without any external shock. The violent irruption of the Goths, Vandals, Huns, and other barbarians, hastened this event, and precipitated the downfall 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 inflicted on mankind. These fierce tribes either inhabited 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 Russian empire, and the Tartars. Their condition and transactions, pre- vious to their invasion of the empire, are but little known. Almost all our information with respect 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, retained, perhaps, some indistinct memory of recent occurrences ; but beyond these, all was buried in oblivion, or involved in darkness and in fable [2]. The prodigious swarms which poured in upon the empire from the beginning of the fourth century to the 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 degree of population as hath produced these countries the appellation of The Storehouse of Nations. But if we consider, that the countries 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 pasturage, 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 countries 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. But the same circumstances that prevented the barbarous 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 Avas a continual preparation for action ; and disdaining every occupation but that of war or of hunting; they undertook, and prosecuted their military enterprises with an ardour and impetuosity of which men softened by the refinements of more polished times can scarcely form any idea [3]. Their first inroads into the empire proceeded rather from the love of plunder than from the desire of new settlements. Roused to arms by some enterprising or popular leader, they sallied out of their forests : broke STATE OF EUROPE. 9 IB 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 provinces, ravaged by- frequent excursions, they marched farther from home, and finding it difficult, or dangerous to return, they began to settle in the countries which they had subdued. The sudden and short excursions in quest of booty which had alarmed and disquieted the empire, ceased ; a more dreadful calamity 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 habitation, 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 forward into more fertile countries, and, like a torrent continually increasing, rolled on, and swept every thing before them. In less than two centuries from their first eruption, barbarians of various names and lineage plundered and took possession of Thrace, Pannonia, Gaul, 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 great revolution, and ensured success to the nations which invaded the empire. The Roman commonwealth had conquered the world by the wisdom of its civil maxims, and the rigour of its military discipline. But, under the emperors, the former were forgotten or despised, and the latter were gradually relaxed. The armies of the empire in the fourth and fifth centuries bore scarcely any resemblance to those invincible legions 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 barbarians 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 derived 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 defending themselves, had neither spirt nor inclination to resist their invaders, from whom they had little to fear, because their condition could hardly be rendered more un- happy. 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 increased to such a pitch in the Imperial court, that great sums were carrie 1 into India, from which, in the channel 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, became unable to pay the cus- tomary tribute, and the wealth of the world, which had long centred in the capital of the empire, ceased to flow thither in the same 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, laneruid. and .almost Vol. II— 2 10 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. I. unahimated, became incapable of any effort to save itself, and was easily overpowered. The emperors, who had the absolute direction of this disordered 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 effemi- nate, trembled at the approach of danger, and, under circumstances which called for the utmost vigour in council as well as in action, discovered all the impotent irresolution of fear and of folly. In every respect the condition of the barbarous nations was the reverse of that of the Romans. Among the former, the martial spirit was in full vigour ; their leaders were hardy and enterprising ; the arts which had enervated the Romans were unknown ; and such 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, cither 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, hastened the destruction of the empire. These mer- cenaries soon turned their arms against their masters, aitd with greater advantage than ever, for, by serving in the 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 irre- sistible. But though, from these and many other causes, the progress and con- quests of the nations which overran the empire became so extremely rapid, they were accompanied with horrible devastations, and an incredible 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 disarmed of half its terrors. Barbarians are strangers to such refinements. They rush into War with impetuosity, 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 satiated with inflicting on them every possible calamity. It is with such a spirit that the savage tribes in America carry on their petty wars. It was with the same spirit that the more powerful and no less fierce barbarians in the north of Europe, .and of Asia, fell upon the Roman empire. Wherever they marched, their route was marked with blood. They ravaged or destroyed all around them. They made no distinction between what was sacred and 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 con- verted 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, wearied 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 farther removed from the civilized parts of the world, were still more fierce and rapacious. This brought fresh calamities upon man- kind, which did not cease until the north, by pouring forth successive swarms, was drained of people, and could no longer furnish instruments of destruction. Famine and pestilence, which always march in the train of war, when it ravages with such inconsiderate cruelty, raged in very 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 ot the human race was most calamitous and afflicted, he would> without STATE OF EUROPE. 11 hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Theodosius the Great, to the establishment of the Lombards in Italy.* The contemporary authors, who beheld that scene of desolation, labour and are at a loss for expressions to describe the horror 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, con- flagrations, 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 destructive progress of the barbarians as that which must strike an attentive observer when he contemplates the total change which he will discover in 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 govern- ment, 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, unless where the ancient inhabitants of a country have been almost totally exterminated, has proved an undertaking beyond the power of the greatest conquerors [4]. The great change which the settlement of the barbarous nations occasioned in the state ot 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 [5]. In the obscurity ot the chaos occasioned by this general wreck of nations, we must search for the seeds of order, and endeavour to discover the first rudi- ments of the policy and laws now established in Europe. To 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 following 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 contemplate 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 V. began his reign. When nations subject to despotic government make conquests, these serve only to extend the dominion and the power of their master. But jinnies composed of freemen conquer for themselves, not for their leaders. The people who overturned the Roman empire, and settled in its various provinces, were of the latter class. Not only the different nations that issued from the north of Europe, which has always been considered as the state of liberty, but the Huns and Alans who inhabited part of those countries, which have been marked out as the peculiar region of servitude,! enjoyed freedom and independence in such a high degree as seems to be * Theodosius died A. D. 305, the reign of Alboinus in Lombardy began A. I). 571 : eo that thl* period wae 170 years. .t De I'Esprit des Loix, liv. J7. rh. ". 12 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. T. scarcely compatible with a state of social union, or with the subordination necessary to maintain 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 [6]. They considered their conquests as a common pro- perty, in which all had a title to share, as all had contributed to acquire them [7]. 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 records 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 with the maxims and manners to which it gave rise, gradually introduced a species of govern- ment formerly unknown. This- singular institution is now distinguished 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 laws were established, with little variation, in every kingdom of Europe. This amazing uniformity had induced some authors* to believe that all these nations, notwithstand- ing so many apparent circumstances of distinction, were originally the same people. But it may be ascribed with greater probability, to the similar state of society and of manners t") which they were accustomed in their native countries, and to the similar situation in which they found themselves on taking possession of (heir new domains. As the conquerors of Europe had their acquisitions to maintain, not only against such of the ancient inhabitants 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 object of their first institutions and policy. Instead of those loose associations, which, though they scarcely diminished their personal independence, had been sufficient for their secu- rity 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 receiv- ing 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 burden, 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 par- celled out his lands with this view, binding those on whom they were bestowed to resort to his standard with a number of men in proportion to the extent of the territory which they received, and to bear arms in his defence. His chief officers imitated the example of the sovereign, and, in distributing portions of their lands among their dependents, annexed the same condition to the grant. Thus a feudal kingdom resembled a military establishment, rather than a civil institution. The victorious army, can- toned out in the country which it had seized, continued ranged under its proper officers, and subordinate to military command. The names of a soldier and of a freeman were synonymous.! Every proprietor of land, girt with a sword, was ready to march at the summons of his superior, and lo take the field against the common enemy. * Procop. de Bello Vandal, ap. Script. Byz. edit. Ven. vol. i. p. 345. t Du Cange Glossar. voo. Jttiles. STATE OF EUROPE. 13 Bat though the feudal policy seems to be so admirably calculated for defence against the assaults of any foreign power, its provisions for the interior order and tranquillity of society were .extremely defective. The principles of disorder and corruption are discernible in that constitution under its best and most perfect form. They soon unfolded themselves, and, spreading with rapidity through every part of the system, produced the most fatal effects. The bond oi political union was extremely feeble ; the sources of anarchy were innumerable. The monarchical and aristo- cratical 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 [8], With an ambition no less enterprising, and more preposterous, they appropriated to themselves titles of honour, as well as offices of power or trust. These personal marks of distinction, which the public admiration bestows on illustrious merit, or which the public confidence 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 posses- sion of their lands and dignities, the nature of the feudal institutions, which though founded on subordination verged to independence, led them to new, and still more dangerous encroachments on the prerogatives of the sove- reign. 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 carrying on war against their private enemies, in their own name, and by their own authority. The ideas of political sub- jection were almost entirely lost, and frequently 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 constitution with the crown, were dissolved. A kingdom, consider- able in name and in extent, was broken into as many separate principalities as it contained powerful barons. A thousand causes of jealousy and dis- cord subsisted among them, and gave rise to as many wars. Every coun- try in Europe, wasted or kept in continual alarm during these endless con- tests, was filled with castles and places of strength erected for the security of the inhabitants ; not against foreign force, but against internal hostilities. A universal anarchy, destructive, 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 wretched condi- tion [9j. The king, stripped of almost every prerogative, and without authority to enact or to execute salutary laws, could neither protect the innocent, nor punish the guilty. The nobles, superior to all restraint, harassed each other with perpetual wars, oppressed their fellow-subjects, and humbled or insulted their sovereign. To crown all, time gradually fixed, and rendered venerable this pernicious system, which violence had established. Such was the 6tate of Europe with respect to the interior administration of government from the seventh to the eleventh century. All the external operations of its various states, during this period, were of course extremely feeble. A kingdom dismembered, and torn with dissension, without an}' 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 14 A VIEW OF THE (S*xt. I. of no considerable event. They resembled the short incursions of pirates or banditti, rather than the steady operations of a regular army. Every baron, at tire head of his vassals, carried on some petty enterprise, to which he was prompted by his own ambition or revenge. The state itself, des- titute of union, either remained altogether inactive, or if it attempted to make any effort, that served only to discover its impotence. The superior genius of Charlemagne, it is true, united all these disjointed and discordant members, and forming them again into one body, restored to government that degree of activity which distinguishes his reign, and renders the trans- actions of it, objects not only of attention but of admiration to more en- lightened 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 system which he had established, being withdrawn, it broke into pieces. All the calamities which flow from anarchy and discord, returning with additional force, afflicted 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 unimportant, fill and deform the annals of all the nations in Europe. To these pernicious effects of the feudal anarchy may be added its fatal influence on the character and 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 conquests, 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 com- fortable, were neglected or lost. Literature, science, taste, were word.-, 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. Per- sons of the highest 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 [lOj. The memory of past transactions was, in a great degree, lost, or preserved in annals filled with trifling events, or legendary tales. Even the codes of laws, published by the several nations which established themselves in the different countries of Europe, fell into disuse, while, in their place, cus- toms, vague and capricious, were substituted. The human mind, neglected, uncultivated, and depressed, 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 arc delivered, and it1; institutions are fixed in scripture, with a precision which should have ex- empted 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 ot the true God by means not unlike to those with 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 STATE OF EUROPE. 15 .ot* duty by a scrupulous observance of external ceremonies [ill. Reli- gion, according to their conception of it, comprehended nothing else ; and the rites by which they persuaded themselves that they should 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 altogether unworthy of the Being to whose honour they were consecrated ; or so absurd as to be a disgrace to reason and humanity [12]. Charlemagne in France, and Alfred the Great in England, endeavoured to dispel this darkness, and gave their sub- jects 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. As the inhabitants of Europe, during these centuries, were strangers to the arts which embellished a polished 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 enterprise, invin- cible perseverance in execution, contempt ot danger and death, are the characteristic virtues of uncivilized nations. But these are all the offspring of equality and independence, both which the feudal institutions had destroyed. The spirit of domination corrupted the nobles ; the yoke of servitude depressed the people ; the generous sentiments inspired by a sense of equality were extinguished, and hardly any thing remained 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 refinement which introduces a sense of decorum and of propriety 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 horror, 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 contemporary author, we meet with a series of deeds of cruelty, perfidy, and revenge, so wild and enormous as almost to exceed belief. But, according to the observation of an elegant and profound historian,* there is an ultimate point of depression, as well as of exaltation, from which human affairs naturally return in a contrary progress, and beyond which they never pass either in their advancement 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 remedies as will most effectually remove them. Slight inconveniences 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 corruption 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 era, we' may date the return of government and manners in a contrary direction, and can trace a succession of causes and events which contributed, some with a nearer and more conspicuous, others with a more remote and less perceptible influence, to abolish con- fusion and barbarism, and to introduce order, regularity, and refinement. In pointing out and explaining these causes and events, it is not necessary to observe the order of time with a chronological accuracy ; it is of more importance to keep in view their mutual connection and dependence, and to show how the operation of one event, or one cause, prepared the way for another, and augmented its influence. We have hitherto been contem- * Hume's History of England, vol. ii. p. 441 16 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. I. 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. 1. The Crusades, or expeditions in order to rescue the Holy Land out of the hands of infidels, seem to be the first event that roused Europe from the lethargy in which it had been long sunk, and that tended to introduce any considerable change in government or in manners. It is natural to the human mind to view those places which have been distinguished by being the residence of any illustrious personage, or the scene of any great trans action, 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 of man- kind. As this distant pilgrimage could not be performed without consi- derable 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 pilgrims, and increased the ardour with which they undertook 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, abandoning their friends and families, hurried with precipitation 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 commerce, 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, pilgrims were exposed to outrages of every kind from these fierce barbarians.| This change happening precisely at the juncture when the panic terror, which I have mentioned, rendered pilgrimages most frequent, filled Europe with alarm and indignation. Every person who returned from Palestine related the dangers which he had encountered, in visiting the" holy city, and described with exaggeration the cruelty and vexations of the Turks. When the minds of men were thus prepared, the zeal of a fanatical monk, who conceived the idea of leading all the forces of Christendom against the infidels, 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 people to this Holy War, and wherever he came kindled the same enthusiastic ardour for it with which he himself 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 contagion ; not only the gallant nobles of that age, with their martial followers, whom we may suppose apt to be * Revel, xx. 2, 3, 4. t Chronic. Will. Godelli ap. Bouquet Rccueil des Hisloriens de France. tarn, x. p. 202. Vita Abbonis, ibid. p. 332. Chronic. S. Pantaleonis ap. Eccard. Corp. Script! uiedii eevi, vol. i. p. 909. Annalisla Saxo, ibid. 576. % Jo. Dan. Scboepflini desacriaGallonun in orienlcm expeditiotlibus, p. 4. Argent. 1726. 4to. STATE OF EUROPE. 17 allured by the boldness of a romantic enterprise, but men in the more humble and pacific stations of life; ecclesiastics of every order, and even women and children, engaged with emulation in an undertaking:, which was deemed sacred and meritorious. If we may believe the concurring testi- mony of contemporary authors, six millions 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.j Nor did the fumes of this enthusiastic zeal evaporate at once ; the frenzy was as lasting as it was extravagant. During two cen- turies, Europe seems to have had no object but to recover, or keep posses- sion of, the Holy Land ; and through that period vast armies continued to march thither [l3j. The first efforts of valour, animated by enthusiasm, 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 ; Constan- tinople, 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 im- pression of the Crusaders was so unexpected that they made their conquests with great ease, they found infinite difficulty in preserving them. Esta- blishments so distant from Europe, surrounded by warlike nations animated with fanatical zeal scarcely inferior to that of the Crusaders themselves, were perpetually in danger of being overturned. Before the expiration of the thirteenth century [1291], 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 com- mon enterprise in which the European nations ever engaged, and which they all undertook with equal ardour, remains a singular monument of human folly. But from these expeditions, extravagant as they were, beneficial conse- quences followed, which had neither been foreseen nor expected. In their progress towards the Holy Land, the followers of the cross 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 commerce, 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 despotism 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. Manufactures 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. Although the Saracens and Turks had torn from the Empire many of its richest provinces, and had reduced it within veiy 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 considerable, 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 knowledge and arts which the example and • Fulcherius Camotensis 3p. Bonzarsii Gi'sta Dfii per TjaiKOS. m! I [1*7 e, &r. . § Vilkluu deemed most natural and inalienable. They could not dispose of the effects which their own industry had acquired, either by a latter will, or by any deed executed during their life.* They had no right to appoint guar- dians for their children during their minority. They were not permitted to marry without purchasing the consent of the lord on whom they depended.! If once they had commenced a law-suit, they durst not terminate it by an accommodation, because that would have deprived the lord, in whose court they pleaded, of the perquisites due to him on passing sentence.! 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 exac- tions ; nor would the narrow and oppressive maxims of a military aris- tocracy have permitted it ever to rise to any degree of height or vigour. § But as soon as the cities of Italy began to turn their attention towards commerce, and to conceive some idea of the advantages which they might derive from it, they became impatient to shake off the yoke of their insolent lords, and to establish among themselves such a free and equalgovernment, as would render property secure, and industry flourishing. The German emperors, especially those of the Franconian and Suabian lines, as the seat of their government was far distant from Italy, possessed a feeble and imperfect jurisdiction in that country. Their perpetual quarrels, either, with the popes or with their own turbulent vassals, diverted 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 con- sent.H The rights which many cities acquired by bold or fortunate usur- pations, others purchased from the emperors, who deemed themselves gainers when they received large sums for immunities which they were no longer able to withhold -u and some cities obtained 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 occa- sioned a new kind of fermentation and activity in the minds of the people, and excited such a general passion for liberty and independence, that, before the conclusion of the last Crusade, all the considerable cities in that country had either purchased or had extorted large immunities from the emperors [15]. This innovation was not long known in Italy before it made its way into France. Louis le Gros, in order to create some power that might counter- balance those potent vassals who controlled, or gave law to the crown, first adopted the plan of conferring new privileges on the towns situated within his own domain. These privileges were called charters of commu- nity, by which he enfranchised the inhabitants, abolished all marks of ser- vitude, 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 of administering justice within their own precincts, of levy- ing 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 appointed by the community. The great barons imitated the exam- ple of their monarch, and granted like immunities 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 * Dacherii Spicele?;. torn. xi. 374, 375. edit, in 4to. Onlonances des Rois dr France, torn. iii. 204. No. 2. 6. t Ordonances des Rois de France, torn. i. p. 22, toin. iii. 90S. No. 1. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. iv. p. 20. Daclier. Spicel. vol. xi. 325. 341. % Dacl.er. Spicel. vol. ix. 162. $ M. l\\bWMablwobservat, snjrl'hist. rteFranoe, torn, ii p. 2. 96. II Wurat. Antiq. Ital. vol. iv. p. 5. STATE OF EUROPE. SI for raising- money, by the sale of those charters of liberty. Though the institution of communities was as repugnant to their maxims of policy, as it was adverse to their power, they disregarded remote 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 corpora- tions, instead of dependent villages, without jurisdiction or privileges [16]. Much about the same period, the great cities in Germany began to acquire like immunities, and laid the foundation of their present liberty and inde- pendence [17]. The practice spread quickly over Europe, and was adopted in Spain, England, Scotland, and all the other feudal king- doms [18]. The good effects of this new institution were immediately felt, and its influence on government as well as manners was no less extensive than talutary. A great 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 com- munity, became so many little republics, governed by known and equal laws. Liberty was deemed such an essential and characteristic 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 a freeman, and admitted as a member of the community.* As one part of the people owed their liberty to the erection of commu- nities, another was indebted to them for their security. Such had been the state of Europe during several centuries, tliat 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, reci- procally 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 violence. If the nobility suffered some diminution of their 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 king- doms, the monarch could bring no army into the field, but what was com- posed of soldiers furnished 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 communities 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 vas- sals. The attachment 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 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.! 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 estab- lished ; and wealth flowed into cities which had long been the seat of poverty and oppression. Wealth was accompanied by its usual attendants, * Statut. Humberti Bellojoci Dacher. Spirel. vol. ix. KB. 1S5. Charta Comit. Forens. ibid- 103 * Ordon dosRois de France, loin. i. GO?. '8.V torn, ii 318. 402. gg A \ IEW OF THE [SfiCT. !. ostentation and luxury ; and though the former was forma! and cumber- some, and the latter inelegant, they led gradually to greater refinement in manners, and in the habits of life. Together 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 regulations multiplied of course, and all became sensible that their common safety depended on observing them with exact- ness, and on punishing such as violated them, with promptitude and rigour- Laws and subordination, 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 personal 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 deemed most beneficial to their 6mall society, and granted their superiors such supplies of money, as were proportioned to their abilities, or to his wants. The barons themselves, conformably to the same maxim, Avere 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 original practice to subsist. The great council of each nation, whether distin- guished by the name of a Parliament, a Diet, the Cortes, or the States- general, was composed entirely of such barons, and dignified ecclesiastics, as held immediately of the crown. Towns, whether situated within the royal domain, or on the lands of a subject, depended originally for protec- tion on the lord of whom they held. They had no legal name, no politi- cal existence, which could entitle them to be admitted into the legislative assembly, or could give them any authority there. But as soon as they xvere enfranchised, and formad into bodies corporate, they became legal and independent members of the constitution, and acquired all the rights essential to freemen. Among these, the most valuable was, the privilege of a decisive voice in enacting public laws, and granting national subsi- dies. It was natural for cities, accustomed to a form of municipal govern- ment, according 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 conjunctures occurred, in the different kingdoms of Europe, which facilitated their obtaining possession of this important right. In England, one of the first countries in which the representatives of boroughs were admitted into the great council of the nation, the barons who took arms against Henry III. [A. D. 1265] sum- moned them to attend parliament, in order to add greater popularity to their party, and to strengthen the barrier against the encroachments of regal power. In France, Philip the Fair, a monarch no less sagacious than enter- prising, considered them as instruments which might be employed with equal advantage to extend the royal prerogative, 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.* 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. * Pasquler Recljerclies de !a Frr.iiee. p. 81. edit. Par. 1033. STATE OF EUROPE. 23 Conscious of their own power and dignity, they pretended to the privilege of forming- a separate bench in the diet [A. D. 1293] ; and made good their pretensions.* 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 iormerly no representatives, active and powerful guar- dians of their rights and privileges : it established an intermediate power between the king and the nobles, to which each had recourse 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 repre- sentatives 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 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 ot liberty in every country of Europe, have been made by this new power in the legislature. In proportion as it rose to consider- ation 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 [19]. IV. The inhabitants of towns having been declared free by the charters of communities, that part of the people which resided in the country, and was employed in agriculture, began to recover liberty by enfranchisement. During the rigour of feudal government, as hath been already observed, the great Dody ot the lower people was reduced to servitude. They were slaves fixed to the soil which they cultivated, and together 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 authority of the imme- diate 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 com- plete right to their liberty. Thus it became necessary to ascend through all the gradations of feudal holding to the king, the lord paramount.! 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 their masters, to whom they belonged in ab- solute property. The condition of slaves fixed to the soil, was much more unalterable. But the freedom and independence which one part of the people had obtained by the institution of communities, inspired the other with the most ardent desire of acquiring the same privileges ; and their superiors, sensible of the various advantages which they had derived from their former concessions to their dependents, were less unwilling to gratify them by the grant of new immunities. The enfranchisement of slaves became 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 [A. D. 1315 and 1318]. Louis X. and Philip the Long issued ordinances, declaring, " That as all men were by nature freeborn, 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 * Pfessel Abrege de l'histoire et droit d'Allemagne. p. 408 451. t Eetabliwemens de St. Louis, liv. ii. ch. 34. Ordon. torn. i. 283. not. (a). 24 A V 1 E VV OF THE [Sect. I. 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 sovereigns, 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 servitude was gradually abolished in almost every province of the kingdom [20]. In Italy, the establishment of republican govern- ment in their great cities, the genius and maxims 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, gradually intro- duced the practice of enfranchising the ancient 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 state was mitigated. In England, as the spirit of liberty gained ground, the very name and idea of personal servitude, without any formal interposition of the legislature to prohibit it, was totally banished. The effects of such a remarkable change in the condition of so great a part of the people, could not fail of being considerable and extensive. The husbandman, 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 de- pressing of all distinctions to human nature, were abolished. New pros- pects opened, and new incitements to ingenuity and enterprise presented themselves to those who were emancipated. The expectation of bettering their fortune, 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 order to introduce a more regular, equal, and vigorous administration of justice, contributed greatly towards the improvement of society. What were the particular modes of dispensing justice, in their several countries, among the various barbarous nations, which overran the Roman Empire, and took possession of its different provinces, cannot now be determined with certainty. We may conclude, from the form of government established among them, as well as from their ideas concerning the nature of society, that the authority of the magistrate was extremely limited, and the independence of indi- viduals proportionally great. History and records, as far as these reach back, justify this conclusion, and represent the ideas and exercise of justice in all 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 ma- gistrate 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 remit the punishment. From a system of judicial procedure, so crude and defective, * Ordnn torn. i. p 583, CofS STATE OF EUROPE. ^ that it seems to be scarcely compatible with the subsistence of civil society, disorder and anarchy flowed. Superstition concurred with this ignorance concerning the nature of government, in obstructing the adminis tration 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 political 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 of Europe. 1. The first considerable step towards establishing an equal administration of justice, was the abolishment of the right which individuals claimed of waging war with each other, in their own name, and by their own au- thority. 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 former is considered as a personal right no less alienable than the latter. Nor do men in this situation deem that they have a title to redress their own wrongs alone ; they are touched with the injuries done to those 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 obligations arising from the ties of blood. On the appearance 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, with respect to the prosecution and punishment of offenders, particularly those of the ancient Germans, and other barbarians who invaded the Roman Empire, are per- fectly conformable to these ideas.* While they retained their native sim- plicity of manners, and continued to be divided into small tribes or societies, the defects in this imperfect system of criminal jurisprudence (if it merits that name) were less sensibly felt. When they came to settle in the ex- tensive provinces which they had conquered, and to form themselves into great monarchies ; when new objects of ambition presenting themselves, increased both the number and the violence of their dissensions ; they ought to have adopted new maxims concerning the redress of injuries, 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 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 enforced by the authority of princes and magistrates, who possessed little power, com- manded no great degree of reverence. The administration of justice among rude illiterate people, was not so accurate, or decisive, or uniform, as to induce men to submit implicitly 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 determination 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 defender, were involved in the quarrel. They nad not even the liberty of remaining neutral. Such * Tacit, de Mor. Gorman, rap. 21'. Vett. Patrrc. lib. ii. c. IIS. Vol.. IT.— 4 26 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. I. as refused to act in concert with the party to which they belonged, were not only exposed to infamy, but subjected to legal penalties. The different kingdoms of Europe were torn and 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 violent passions. The estate of every baron was a kind of independent territory, disjoined from those around it, and the hostilities betiveen 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 system of jurisprudence,* in the same manner as if this practice had been founded in some natural right of humanity, or in the original constitution of civil society. So great was the disorder, and such the calamities, which these perpetual hostilities occasioned, that various efforts were made to wrest from the nobles this pernicious privilege. It was the interest of every sovereign to abolish a practice which almost annihilated his authority. Charlemagne prohibited it by an express law, as an invention of the devil to destroy the order and happiness of society ;t but the reign of one monarch, however vigorous and active, was too short to extirpate a custom so firmly esta- blished. Instead of enforcing this prohibition, his feeble successors durst venture on nothing more than to apply palliatives. They declared it un- lawful for any person to commence war until he had sent a formal defiance to the kindred and dependants 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 before the person injured should attack the vassals of his adversary ; they enjoined all persons to suspend their private animo- sities, and to cease from hostilities, when the king was engaged in any war against the enemies of the nation.. The church co-operated with the civil magistrate, and interposed its authority in order to extirpate a practice so repugnant to the spirit of Christianity. Various councils issued decrees, prohibiting all private wars ; and denounced the heaviest anathemas 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 different persons, his disap- probation of that spirit of revenge, which armed one part of his creatures against the other. Men were required, in the name of God, to sheathe 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 ecclesiastical 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 temporary 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 and circumscribe it ; they eluded others ; they petitioned ; they remonstrated ; they strug- gled 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, contending for their ancient method of terminating their differences by the sword, in preference to that of submitting them to the decision of any judge. The final abolition of this practice in that kingdom, and the other countries in which it pre- vailed, 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 * Beaumanoir Cnustumrs de Beauvoisis, ch. 59. ct !<>s notes de Thnumassiere. p. 447. f Capi- tal. A. I). 801. Edit. Balus. vol. i. p. 371. STATE OF EUROPE. 27 progress of jusler sentiments concerning government, order, and public security [21], 2. The prohibition of the form of trial by judicial combat, was another considerable step towards the introduction ot such regular government, as secured public order and private tranquillity. As the right of private war left many of the quarrels among individuals to be decided, like those be- tween nations, by arms; the form of trial by judicial combat, which was established in every countiy of Europe, banished equity from courts of justice, and rendered chance or force the arbiter of their determinations. In civilized nations, all transactions of any importance are concluded in writing. The exhibition of the deed or instrument is full evidence of the fact, and ascertains with precision what each party has stipulated to per- form. 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 committed to writing but treaties between princes, their grants and charters to their subjects, or such transactions between private parties as were of extraordinary consequence, or had an extensive effect. The greater part of affairs in common life and business were 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 falsehood 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 under- stood by barbarous nations. To define with accuracy that species of evidence which a court had reason to expect ; to determine when it ought to insist on positive 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 simple form 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 voluntarily, to purge himself by oath ; and upon his declaring his innocence, he was instantly acquitted.* 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 ordained, that oaths should be administered with great solemnity, and accompanied with every circumstance which cou d inspire religious reverence, or superstitious terror.! This, however, proved a feeble remedy ; these ceremonious rites became familiar, and their impression on the imagination gradually diminished ; men who could venture to disregard truth, were not apt to startle at the solemnities of an oath. Their observation 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 neighbours or relations, who corroborated the oath which he took, by swearing that they believed all that he uttered to be true. These were called Compurgators, and their number varied according to the im- portance of the subject in dispute, or the nature of the crime with which a person was charged.j In some cases, the concurrence of no less than three hundred of these auxiliary witnesses was requisite to acquit the * Leg. Burgund. tit. 8, and 45. Leg. Aleman. tit. 89. Leg. Baiwar. tit. 8. sect. 5. 2, &x. t Du Cange Glossar. %oc. Juramcntnm, vol, iii. p. 1607. Edit. Benedict. 1 Ibid. v. iii. p. 15&9. 28 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. I. person accused.* But even this device was found to be ineffectual. 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 devoted 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 security, against false- hood and perjury ; and the sentences of courts, while they continued to refer every point in question to the oath of the defendant, became so flagrantly iniquitous, as excited universal indignation against this method of procedure.! Sensible of these defects, but strangers to the manner of correcting them, or of introducing a more proper form, our ancestors, as an infallible method of discovering truth, and of guarding against deception, 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 perilous and formidable. On other occasions, he challenged his accuser to fight him in single combat. All these various forms of trial were conducted with many devout cere- monies ; the ministers of religion Avere employed, the Almighty was called upon to interpose for the manifestation of guilt, and for the protection of innocence ; and whoever escaped unhurt, or came off victorious, was pro- nounced to be acquitted by the Judgment of God. \ Among all the whimsical and absurd institutions which owe their exist- ence to the weakness of human reason, this, which submitted questions that affected the property, the reputation, and the lives of men, to the determi- nation of chance, or of bodily strength and address, appears to be the most extravagant and preposterous. There were circumstances, however, which led the nations of Europe to consider this equivocal mode of deciding any point in contest, as a direct appeal to Heaven, and a certain method of discovering its will. As men are unable to comprehend the manner 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 passions or interest render important in their own eyes, the Supreme Ruler of all ought visibly to display his power in vindicating innocence and pun- ishing guilt. It requires no inconsiderable degree of science and philoso- phy to correct this popular error. But the sentiments prevalent in Europe during the dark ages, instead of correcting, strengthened it. Religion, tor 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 by the bulls of popes, and the decrees of councils : they made the great sub- ject of the instructions which the clergy offered to the people, and were received by them with implicit credulity and admiration. By attending 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 execu- tion of a general plan. One superstition prepared the way for another ; and whoever believed that the Supreme Being had interposed miraculously on those trivial occasions mentioned in legends, could not but expect his * Spelman Glossar. voc. Assalh. Gregor. Turon. Hist. lib. viii. c. 9. t Leg. I.angobard. lib. ii. tit, 55, sect. 34. t Murat. dissertatio de judiciis Dei Antiquit. Ital. vol. iii. p. 6)?. STATE OF EUROPE. 29 intervention in matters of greater importance, when solemnly referred to his decision. With this superstitious opinion, the martial spirit of Europe, during the middle ages, concurred in establishing 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 gentleman. To assert their own rights by force of arms, to inflict vengeance on those who had injured or affronted them, were the distinction and pride of high-spirited nobles. The form of trial by combat coinciding 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 considered, 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 into disuse, or were em- ployed 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 antagonists, 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 question, though called to declare the truth by laws which ought to have afforded them protection, Avere 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 the fauntlet, might challenge him to defend his integrity in the field ; nor could e, without infamy, refuse to accept 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 engaged by rewards, to fight their battles. The solemnities of a judicial combat were such as were natural in an action, which was considered both as a formal appeal 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 explained 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 attain.* By this barbarous custom, the natural course of proceeding, both in civil and criminal questions, was entirely perverted. Force usurped the place of equity in courts of judicature, and justice was banished from her proper man- sion. Discernment, learning, integrity, were qualities less necessary to a j udge, than bodily strength and dexterity in the use of arms. Daring courage, and superior vigour of address, were of more moment towards securing • See a curious discourse concerning the laws of judicial combat, by Thomas of Woodstock, du k t of Gloucester, uncle to Richard II. in Spelman'a Glosaar. voc. Campus. 3 j A VIEW OF THE [Sect. I. the favourable issue of a suit, than the equity of a cause, or the clearness of the evidence. 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 in defence of their private rights, than in the held of battle, where they met the enemies of their country, it became the great object of their education, as well as the chief employment of life, to acquire these martial accomplishments. 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 so obvious, that they did not altogether escape the view of the unobserving age in which it was introduced. The clergy, from the beginning, remonstrated against it as repugnant to the spirit of Christianity, and subversive of justice and order.* But the maxims and passions 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 terror. The evil was too great and inveterate to yield to that remedy, and con- tinuing to increase, the civil power at length found it necessary to inter- pose. 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 I. of England. It extended no farther than to prohibit the trial by combat in questions concerning property of small value. f Louis VII. of France imitated his example, and issued an edict to the same effect.j St. Louis, whose ideas as a legislator were far superior to those of his age, endeavoured to introduce a more perfect jurisprudence, and to substitute the trial by evidence, in place 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 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, nevertheless, 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 suc- cessors 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 maintain 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 ex .'ode 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 applicable to the mode of trial under review. No custom, how absurd soever it may be, if it has subsisted long, or derives its force from the manners and prejudices of the age in which it prevails, was ever abolished by the bare promulgation of laws and statutes. The sentiments 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 advanced towards more perfect order. In propor- * Du CaDge Glossar. voc. I)itellum, vol. ii. p. 1075. f Brussel Usage lies Fiefs, vol. ti p. 9G2. % Onion, tom. I. p. 16. § IBid. torn. i. p. 338. 390. 435. , STATE OF EUROPE. 81 tion as the prerogative of princes extended, and came to 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 regulations 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 century, in the history both of France and of England. In 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 [22]. 3. By authorizing the right of appeal from the courts of the barons to those of the king, and subjecting the decisions of the former to the review of the latter, a new step, not less considerable than those which I have already mentioned, was taken towards establishing the regular, consistent, and vigorous administration of justice. Among all the encroachments of the feudal nobles on the prerogative of their monarchs, their usurping the administration of justice with supreme 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 struggles and pretensions, we discover nothing similar to this right which the feudal barons claimed and obtained. It must have been some- thing peculiar in their genius and manners that suggested this idea, and prompted them to insist on such a claim. Among the rude people who conquered the various provinces of the Roman Empire, and established new kingdoms there, the passion 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 accept of such satisfac- tion 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 dura- tion of their resentment. The excesses which this occasioned, proved so destructive of peace and order in society, as to render it necessary to devise some remedy. At first, recourse was had to arbitrators, who by persuasion or entreaty prevailed on the party offended to accept of a fine or composi- tion from the aggressor, and to drop all farther prosecution. But as sub- mission to persons who had no legal or magisterial authority was altogether voluntary, 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 integrity 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. Their high-spirited dependants would not have recognised any other authority, or have sub- mitted 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 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 32 A VIE VV O F T H E [Sect. I. kingdoms the latter was not only as precisely ascertained, but as regularly exacted, as the former. Thus, by the natural operation of circumstances peculiar to the manners or political state of the feudal nations, separate and territorial jurisdictions came not only to be established in every kingdom, but were established in such a way, that the interest of the barons concurred with their ambition in maintaining and extending them. It was not merely a point of honour with the feudal nobles to dispense justice to their vassals ; 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 asserted and defended this high privi- lege of their order. By this institution, however, every kingdom in Europe was split into as many separate principalities as it contained powertul 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 confede- racies 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 royai judge ventured to extend his 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 affront 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 inde- pendent tribunals, the procee'dings of which were directed by local cus- toms and contradictory forms. The collision of jurisdiction among these different courts often retarded the execution of justice. The variety and caprice of their modes of procedure must have for ever kept the adminis- tration of it from attaining any degree of uniformity or perfection. All the monarchs of Europe perceived these encroachments on their juris- diction, and bore them with 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 fiiey 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 contending 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 f reductive of some good consequences, and paved the way for more, t turned the attention of men towards a jurisdiction distinct from that ot 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 whirl) princes brought the decision* of the boron*'' courts under (he STATE OF EUROPE. 33 review ol the royal judges. While trial by combat subsisted in lull vigour, no point decided according to that mode could be drought under the review 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 the 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 progress of this practice, however, was slow and gradual. The first instances of appeals were on account of the delay or 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 allowed them to be intro- duced without much opposition. But when these were followed by appeals on account of the injustice or iniquity of the sentence, the nobles then began to be sensible, that if this innovation became general, the shadow of power alone would remain 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 monarchs in the different kingdoms of Europe pursued their plan with steadiness and pru- dence. Though forced to suspend their operations on some occasions, and seemingly to yield when any formidable confederacy of 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 ambulatory, and irregular with respect to their times of meeting, to be held in a fixed place, and at stated seasons. 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 decrees consistent. Such judicatories became, of course, the objects of public confidence as well as Veneration. The people, relinquishing the partial 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 community, and the dispensers of justice to their subjects. The barons, in some king- doms, ceased to exercise their 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 direction, held its course in every state with more uniformity, and with greater force [23]. VI. The forms and maxims of the canon law, which were become universally respectable from their authority in the spiritual courts, con- tributed not a little towards those improvements in jurisprudence which I have enumerated. If we consider the canon law politically, and view it either as a system framed on purpose to assist the clergy in usurping powers and jurisdiction no less repugnant to the nature of their function, than inconsistent with the order of government ; or as the chief instru- ment in establishing the dominion of the popes, which shook the throne, and endangered the libertiesof every kingdom in Europe, we must pronounce 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 oi reli- gion are the objects of superstitious veneration. When the barbarians who overran the Roman Empire first embraced the Christian faith, they found the clergy in possession of considerable power ; and they naturally trans- 31 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. L ferred to those new guides the profound submission and reverence which they were accustomed to yield to the priests of that religion which they had forsaken. They deemed their persons to be equally sacred 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 advantages which the weakness of mankind afforded them. They estab- lished courts in which every question 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 usurpations without murmur or opposition, it was necessary to convince them, that the admi- nistration of justice would be rendered more perfect by the establishment of this new jurisdiction. This was not a difficult undertaking at that period, when ecclesiastics carried on their encroachments with the greatest success. 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 knowledge 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 principles of equity. Being directed by fixed and known rules, the forms of their courts were ascer- tained, and their decisions became uniform and consistent. Nor did they want authority sufficient to enforce their sentences. Excommunication and other ecclesiastical censures, were punishments more formidable than any that civil judges could inflict in support of their decrees. It is not surprising, then, that ecclesiastical jurisprudence should become such an object of admiration and respect, that exemption from civil juris- diction was courted as a privilege, and conferred as a reward. It is not surprising, that, even to rude people, the maxims 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 sub- jected 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 judgment with respect to these, by the maxims of equity, and the testimony of witnesses. Any error or iniquity in a sentence pro- nounced by a baron to whom feudal jurisdiction belonged, was irremedial, because, originally it was subject to the review of no superior tribunal ; the ecclesiastical law established a regular gradation of courts, through all which a cause might be 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 prepared 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 sug- gested improvements 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 several 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 attempfinfs to reform them [24]. STATE OF EUROPE. 35 VII. The revival of the knowledge and study of the Roman law co-operated with the causes which I have mentioned, in introducing more just and liheral ideas concerning the nature of government, and the admi- nistration of justice. Among the calamities which the devastations of the barbarians, who broke in upon the empire, brought upon mankind, one ot" the greatest was their overturning the system of Roman jurisprudence, the noblest monument of the wisdom of that great people, formed to subdue and to govern the world. The laws and regulations of a civilized com- munity were altogether repugnant to the manners and ideas of these fierce invaders. They nad respect to objects of which a rude 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 dig- nified with the 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 cen- turies, during which they had continued in political union, that they were struck with admiration of a system which their ancestors could not com- prehend. Though they had not hitherto attained such a degree of refine- ment, as to -acquire from the ancients a relish for true philosophy or specu- lative science ; though they were still insensible, in a great degree, to the beauty and elegance of classical composition ; they were sufficiently qualified to judge with respect to the merit of their system of laws, in which the many points most interesting to mankind were settled with discernment, precision, 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 countries of Europe. The effects of having such an excellent model to study and to imitate were immediately perceived. Men, as soon as they were acquainted with fixed and general laws, perceived the advantage of them, and became impatient 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 arranged with an order and accuracy acquired from the knowledge of Roman juris- prudence. 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 tire principles of the former. In others, the maxims as well as forms of Roman jurisprudence mingled im- perceptibly with the laws of the country, and had a powerful, though less sensible, influence, in improving and perfecting them [25]. These various improvements in the system of jurisprudence, and admi- nistration of justice, occasioned a change in manners, of great importance, and of extensive effect. They gave rise to a distinction of professions ; 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.* Among uncivilized nations, there is but one profession honourable, 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 simple ; and require no particular course of education or of study, as a preparation for dis- * Dr, Ferguson's Essay ou the Hietorj of CivH-So Let] pari i sect, i. 36 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. I. charging (hem. This was the slate of Europe during several centuries. Every gentleman, born a soldier, scorned any other occupation ; 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 soldiers possessed. To recollect a few traditionary customs which time had confirmed, and rendered respectable ; to mark out the lists of battle with due formality ; to observe the issue of the combat ; and to pronounce whether it bad 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, when the rules of decision were committed to writing, 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 inclination to undertake a task so laborious, as well as so foreign from all the occupations which they deemed enter- taining, 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 knowledge of law. An order of men, to whom their fellow citizens had daily recourse for advice, and to whom they looked up for decision in their most important 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 honourable. The functions of civil life weie attended to. The talents requisite for dis- charging 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 [26]. VIII. While improvements, so important with respect to the state of society and the administration of justice, gradually made progress in Europe, sentiments more liberal and generous had begun to animate the nobles. These were inspired by the spirit of chivalry, which, though considered^ commonly, as a wild institution, the effect ol caprice, and the source of extravagance, 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 was a state of almost perpetual war, rapine, and anarchy ; during which the weak and unarmed were exposed to insults or injuries. The power of the sovereign was too limited to prevent these wrongs ; and the administration of justice too feeble to redress them. The most effectual protection against violence and oppression 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 gentlemen to take arms in defence ot the oppressed pilgrims 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 expeditions, the latter was the only employment left for the activity and courage of adventurers. To check the insolence of over-grown oppressors ; to rescue the helpless lrom captivity ; to protect, or to avenge women, orphans, and ecclesiastics, who could not bear arms in their own defence ; to redress wrongs and remove grievances ; were deemed acts of the highest prowess and merit. STATE OF EUROPE. 37 Valour, humanity, courtesy, justice, honour, weft the characteristic qualities of chivalry. To these were added religion, which mingled itself with every passion and institution during the middle ages, and hy 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 solemnities no less devout than pompous ; every person of noble birth courted that honour ; it was deemed a distinction superior to royalty 5 and monarchs were proud to receive it from the hands of private gentlemen. This singular institution, in which valour, gallantry, and religiqn, were so strangely blended, was wonderfully adapted to the taste and genius of martial nobles ; and Hi 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 introduced, 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 gentleman, because chivalry was regarded as the school of honour, and inculcated the most delicate sensibility with respect to those points. The admiration of these qualities, together with the high distinctions and prerogatives 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. But they deeply imprinted on their minds the princi- ples 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 adventures, are well known, and have been treated with proper ridicule. The political and permanent effects of the spirit of chivalry have been less observed. Perhaps, the humanity which accompanies all the operations of war, the refinements of gallantry, and the point of honour, the three chief circumstances which distinguish modern from ancient manners, may be ascribed in a great mea- sure to this institution, which has appeared whimsical to superficial obser- vers, but by its effects has proved of great benefit to mankind. The senti- ments which chivalry inspired had a wonderful influence on manners and conduct during the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. They were so deeply rooted, that they continued to operate after the vigour and reputation of the institution itself began to decline. Some considerable transactions, 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 charac- ters will be delineated, were strongly tinctured with this romantic spirit. Francis I. was ambitious to distinguish himself by all the qualities of an accomplished knight, and endeavoured to imitate the enterprising geuius of chivalry in war, as well as its pomp and courtesy during peace. The fame which the French monarch acquired by these sulendid actions, so far dazzled his more temperate rival, that he departed on some occasions from his usual prudence and moderation, and emulated Francis in deeds ot prowess or of gallantly [27]. x IX. The progress of science, and the cultivation of literature, had a considerable effect in changing the manners of the European nations, and introducing that civility and refinement by which they are now distin- guished. At the time when their empire was overturned, the Romans, though they had lost that correct taste which has rendered the productions of their ancestors standards of excellence, and models of imitation for suc- ceeding ages, still preserved their love of letters, and cultivated the arts with great ardour. Rut rude barbarians were so far from being struck 38 A VIE W OF THE [Sect. j. with any admiration of the.se unknown accomplishments, that they despised them. They were not arrived at that state of society, when those facul- ties of the human mind, which have beauty and elegance for their objects, 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 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 unpolished tribes in the empire ; the frequent as well as violent revolutions in every kingdom which they established ; together with the interior defects in the form of government which they introduced, banished security and leisure ; pre- vented the growth oi 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 1 have enumerated, pro- duced great alterations in society. As soon as their operation, in restoring liberty and independence to one part of the community, began to be felt ; as soon as they began to communicate to all the members of society, some taste ot the advantages arising from commerce, from public order, and irom personal security, the human mind became 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 literary efforts, however, of the European nations in the middle ages, were extremely ill-directed. Among nations, as well as individuals, the powers of imagination attained some degree of vigour before the intel- lectual 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 inves- tigation or reasoning. The age of Homer and of Hesiod long preceded that of Thales or of Socrates. But, unhappily for literature, our ances- tors, deviating from this course which nature points out, plunged at once into the depths of abstruse and metaphysical inquiry. They had been converted to the Christian faith, soon after they settled in their new con- quests. 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 attempted to penetrate into mysteries, and to decide questions which the limited faculties of the human mind are un- able 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 them- selves, and engaged their attention. The scholastic theology, with its infi- nite train of bold disquisitions and subtile 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 circumstance 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 persons 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 cultivated. The former rendered theology a system of speculative refinement, or of endless controvers)r. The latter communicated to phi- losophy a spirit of metaphysical and frivolous subtlety. Misled by these STATE OF EUROPE. 39 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 cultivating 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. But fruitless and ill-directed as these speculations were, their novelty roused, and their boldness interested the human mind. The ardour with which men pursued those uninviting studies, was astonishing. Genuine philosophy was never cultivated, in any enlightened 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 formed 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 scho- lars. Academical titles and honours of various kinds were invented as a recompense 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 emi- nence. Allured by all these advantages, an incredible 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. But how considerable soever these first efforts may appear, there was one circumstance which prevented the effects of them from being as exten- sive as they naturally ought to have been. All the languages in Europe, during the period under review, were barbarous. 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 con- secrated by the church to religion. Custom, with authority scarcely less sacred, had appropriated it to literature. All the sciences cultivated in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries were taught in Latin. All books with re- spect to them were written in that language. 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 several ages, from dif- fusing itself through society, and its influence was much circumscribed ; the progress which 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 inven- tion 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 [28]. X. The progress of commerce had considerable influence in polishing the manners of the European nations, and in establishing among them order, equal laws, and humanity. The wants of men, in the original and most simple state of society, are so few, and their desires so limited, that they rest contented with the natural 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 subsisting on its own domestic flock, and ,„, A VIEW OF THE [Sect. I. satisfied with it, is either little acquainted with the states around it, or at variance with them. Society and manners must he considerably 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 settlement 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 intercourse between these divided states, ceased almost entirely during several cen- turies. Navigation was dangerous 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 kingdom, the communication was rare and difficult. The lawless rapine of banditti, together with the avowed exactions of the nobles, scarcely less formidable than oppressive, 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 [29]. 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 connection with Constantinople, and other cities of the Greek empire, had preserved in their own country considerable relish for the precious commodities and curious manufactures of the East. They communicated some know ledge of these to the countries contiguous to Italy. But this commerce being extremely limited, the intercourse which it occasioned between different nations was not considerable. The Cru- sades, by leading multitudes from every corner of Europe into Asia, opened a more extensive communication between the East and West, which sub- sisted for two centuries ; and though the object of these expeditions was conquest and not commerce ; though the issue of them proved as unfortu- nate, as the motives for undertaking them were wild and enthusiastic ; their commercial effects, as hath been shown, were both beneficial and fermanent. During the continuance of the Crusades, the great cities in taly, and in other countries of Europe, acquired liberty, and together with it such privileges as rendered them respectable and independent communities. Thus, in every stele, there was formed a new order of citizens, to whom commerce presented itself as their proper object, and opened to them a certain path to wealth and consideration. Soon after live close. of the Holy War, the mariner's compass was invented, which, by rendering navigation more secure, encouraged it to become more adven- turous, facilitated the communication between remote nations, and brought them nearer to each other. The Italian States, during the same period, established a regular com- merce with the East in the ports of Egypt, and drew from thence all the rich products of the Indies. They introduced into their own territories manufactures of various kinds, and carried them on with great ingenuity and vigour. They attempted new arts ; and transplanted from warmer climates, to which they had been hitherto deemed peculiar, several natural productions which now furnish the materials of a lucrative and extended commerce. All these commodities, whether imported from Asia, or pro- duced 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 twellth and thirteenth centuries the commerce 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 Lombard mer- chants settled in every different kingdom. They were taken under the immediate protection of the several governments. They enjoyed extensive privileges and immunities. The operation of the ancient barbarous Jaw-; STATE OF EUROPE. 41 concerning strangers, was suspended with respect to them. They became the carriers, the manufacturers, and the bankers of all Europe. While the Italians, in the South of Europe, were cultivating trade with such industry and success, the commercial spirit awakened in the North towards the middle of the thirteenth century. As the nations around the Baltic were, at that time, extremely barbarous, 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 necessary to enter into a league ot 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 manufactures 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 Baltic, or carried them up the great rivers into the interior parts of Germany. This regular intercourse opened between the nations in the north and south of Europe, made them sensible of their mutual wants, and created such new and increasing 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 countiy 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 in- dustry, 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, of which he discerned the true cause, Edward III. 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 regulation of trade, Edward gave a beginning to the woollen 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 between nations, how inconsiderable soever it may appear in respect of their rapid and extensive progress during the last and present age, seems wonderfully 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 soitens and polishes 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 establishing in every state an order of citizens bound by their interest k> be the guardians oi public tranquillity. Vol. II. — 6 42 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. II. As soon as the commercial spirit acquires vigour, and begins to gam 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 com- merce made its way into the different countries of Europe, they succes- sively turned their attention to those objects, and adopted those manners, which occupy and distinguish polished nations [30]. SECTION IL View of the Progress of Society in Europe, with respect to the Command of the National Force requisite in Foreign Operations. Such are the events and institutions which, by their powerful operation, contributed gradually to introduce regular government and polished man- ners into the various nations of Europe. When we survey the state of society, or the character of individuals, at the opening of the fifteenth centuiy, 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 refinement will appear immense. Government, however, was still far from having attained that state, in which extensive monarchies act with the united vigour of the whole com- munity, or carry on great undertakings with perseverance and success. Small tribes or communities, even in their rudest state, may operate in concert, and exert their utmost force. They are excited to act not by the distant 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, and where every great enterprise requires previous 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 subjects he is pleased to summon, to follow his standard. The kingdoms of Europe, in the pre- sent age, are an instance of the latter ; the prince, by the less violent, but no less effectual operation of laws and a well-regulated 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. But, at the opening of the fifteenth century, the political constitution in all the kingdoms of Europe was very different from either of these states of government. The several monarchs, though they had somewhat en- larged 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 regulations which I have enu- merated, were still feeble and imperfect. In every country, a numerous bodv of noble*, who continued to be formidable notwithstanding the various STATE OF EUROPE. 43 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 extremely small as to be inadequate to any great undertaking. 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 armies which they could bring into the field were unfit for long and effectual service. Instead of being able to employ troops trained to skill in arms, and to military sub- ordination, 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 remain 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 sove- reign whom they served, were often as much disposed to counteract as to forward his schemes. Nor were they, even if they had been more sub- ject to the command of the monarch, proper instruments to carry into exe- cution any great and arduous enterprise The strength of an army, formed either for conquest or defence, lies in infantry. To the stability and dis- cipline of their legions, consisting chiefly of infantry, the Romans, during the times of the republic, were indebted for their victories ; and when their descendants, forgetting the institutions which had led them to universal 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 have already observed, to overcome them. These nations, soon after they set- tled in their new conquests, uninstructed by the fatal error of the Romans, relinquished the customs of their ancestors, and converted the chief force of their armies into cavalry. Among the Romans this change was occa- sioned 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 discipline seems to have flowed from the pride of the nobles, who, scorning to mingle with persons of inferior 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 horseback with extraordinary splendour, displaying amazing address, force, and valour, brought cavalry into still greater esteem. The fondness for that service increased 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 derogatory 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. As these circumstances rendered the operations of particular kingdoms less considerable and less vigorous, so they long kept the princes of Europe from giving such attention to the schemes and transactions of their neigh- bours, as might lead them to form any regular system of public security. They were, of consequence, prevented from uniting in. confederacy, or from acting with concert, in order to establish such a distribution 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 considered them 44 A VIEW OF Till' [Sect. II. selves as separate societies, scarcely connected together by any common interest, and little concerned in each other's affairs or operations. An ex- tensive commerce did not afford them an opportunity of observing and pene- trating into the schemes of every different state. They had not ambassa- dors residing constantly in every court to watch and give early intelligence of all its motions. The expectation of remote advantages, or the prospect of distant and contingent evils, were 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 considerable Euro- Fiean states, during the two last centuries, must write the history of Europe, ts various 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 regulate 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 Europe great events and revolutions hap- pened, 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 England, and notwith- standing the alarming progress which was made towards rendering one prince the 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 danger 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 interposed only by feeble and inef- fectual negotiations. Notwithstanding the perpetual hostilities in which the various kingdoms of Spain were engaged during several centuries, and the successive occur- rences 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 rise imperceptibly, and to acquire 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 arti- fices and intrigues, nor the solicitations ot the emperors, could induce any of the powerful monarchs of Europe to engage in their quarrel, or to avail themselves of many favourable opportunities of interposing with effect and advantage. This amazing inactivity, during transactions so interesting, is not to be imputed to any incapacity of discerning their political consequences. The power of judging with sagacity, and of acting with vigour, is the portion of men in every age. The monarchs who reigned in the different kingdoms of Europe during several centuries, were not blind to their par- ticular interest, 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 STATE OF EUROPE. 45 which prompts tiiem to check the first encroachments of any lbrmidable power, and which renders each state the guardian, in some degree, of the rights and independence of all its neighbours, this was owing entirely to such imperfections and disorders in the civil government of each country, as made it impossible for sovereigns to act suitably to those ideas which the posture of affairs, and their own observation, must have suggested. But during the course of the fifteenth century, various events happened, which, by giving princes more entire command of the force in their respec- tive dominions, rendered their operations more vigorous and extensive. In consequence of this, the affairs of different kingdoms becoming more frequently as well as more intimately connected, they were gradually accustomed to act in concert and confederacy, and were insensibly pre- pared 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 era, were universally adopted. On this account, a view of the causes and events which contributed to establish a plan of policy, more salutary and exten- sive 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 alteration in the arrangement of affairs in Europe, was the annexation of the extensive ter- ritories, which England possessed on the continent, to the crown of France. While the English were masters of several of the most fertile and opulent provinces in France, 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 cf 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 natural to monarchs in such a situation. France, dismembered and over- awed, could not attain its proper station in the system of Europe. But the death of Henry V. 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 minority, 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 sup- posed interposition 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, asr 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 Calais, and its petty territory. As soon as so many considerable provinces were reunited to their dominions, the kings of France, conscious of this acquisition of strength, began to fonn bolder schemes of interior policy, as well as of foreign ope- rations. They immediately became formidable to their neighbours, who began to fix their attention on their measures and motions, the importance of which they fully perceived. From this era, France, possessed of the advantages which it derives from the situation and contiguity of its territories* 40 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. If. 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 importance merely to the reunion of the provinces which had been torn from it. A circumstance attended the recovery of these, which, though less considerable, and 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 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 necessary to guard or to reduce. In order to obtain such per- manent and effective force, as became requisite during 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 hind for such extraordinary service, these adventurers were dismissed at the close of every campaign, or upon any prospect of accommodation ; and having been little accustomed to the restraints of discipline, they frequently turned their arms against the country which they had been hired to defend, and desolated it with cruelty not inferior to that of its foreign enemies. A body of troops kept constantly on foot, and regularly trained to military subordination, would have supplied what was wanting in the feudal con- stitution, and have furnished princes with the means of executing enter- prises 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 VII. availing himself of the repu- tation which he had acquired by his successes against the English, and taking advantage of the impressions of terror which such a formidable enemy had left upon the minds of his subjects, executed that which 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 [A. D. 1445], retained under arms a body of nine thousand cavalry, and of sixteen thou- sand 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 commanded and disciplined them. The prime nobility courted this service, in which they were taught to depend on their sovereign, to execute his orders, and to look up to him as the judge and re warder 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 cannon in the field became general, horsemen cased in complete armour lost all the advantages which gave them the pre-eminence 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 efforts. The nobles and their mili- tary tenants, though sometimes summoned to the field, according to ancient form, were considered as an incumbrance upon the troops with which thrv .STATE OF EUROPE. 47 acted; and were viewed with contempt by soldiers accustomed to the vigorous and steady operations of regular service. Thus the regulations of Charles VII., by establishing the first standing army known in Europe, 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 import- ance, 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 kingdoms 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 in establishing a military force in their dominions, which enabled them to carry on foreign operations with more vigour, and to greater extent, so they were the first who effectually broke the feudal aristocracy, and humbled the great vassals of the crown, who by their exorbitant power had long circumscribed the royal prerogative within very narrow limits, and had rendered all the efforts of the monarchs of Europe inconsiderable. Many things concurred to undermine, gradually, the power of the feudal aristocracy in France. The wealth and property of the nobility were greatly impaired during the long wars which the kingdom was obliged to maintain with the English. The extraordinary zeal with which they exerted themselves in defence of their country against its ancient enemies, exhausted entirely the for- tunes 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 occasionally, 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 desperate 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 con- tests 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.* Encouraged by these manifest symptoms of decline in that body which he wished to depress, Charles VII. during the first interval of peace with England, made several efforts towards establishing the regal prerogative on the ruins of the aristocracy. But his obligations to the nobles were so many, as well as recent, and their services in recovering the kingdom so splendid, as rendered it necessary for him to proceed with moderation and caution. Such, however, was the authority 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 consequence in the constitution. He not only estab- * Boulainvillicrs Histoirc dc Gouvernement de France. Lcttre xii 48 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. II. lished that formidable body of regular troops, which has been mentioned, but he was the first monarch of France, who, by his royal edict [A. D. 1440], without the concurrence of the States-general of the kingdom, levied an extraordinary 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.* The plan of humbling the nobility which Charles began to execute, his son Louis XI. carried 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, unfeeling, cruel ; a stranger to every principle of integrity, and regardless of decency, he scorned all the restraints which a sense of honour, or the desire of fame, impose 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 adhering to it with a systematic spirit, from which no object could divert, and no danger could deter him. The maxims of his administration were as profound as they were fatal to the privileges of the nobility. He filled all the departments of govern- ment with new men, and often with persons whom he called from the lowest as well as most despised functions of 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 execu- tion of them : while the nobles, accustomed to be the companions, the favourites, and the ministers of their sovereigns, 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 castles, where they remained unem- ployed 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 privi- leges, 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 trhich all who belonged to the order of nobility had hitherto been exempted ; they were tried by judges who had no right to take cognizance of their actions ; and were subject to torture, or condemned to an igno- minious death, without regard to their birth or 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 terror 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 might rouse the nobles, whom the rigour of his government had intimidated, or that self-pre- servation might at last teach them to unite, dexterously scattered among them the seeds of discord; and industriously fomented those ancient animosities * Histoire de France par Vefly et Villaret; torn sv. 331, fee, 389. torn. xvi. 324, Variations de la Monarchic Franeoise, torn. Hi. 162. STATE OF EUROPE, 49 between the great families, which the spirit of jealousy and emulation, natural to the feudal government, had originally kindled and still kept alive. To accomplish this, all the arts of intrigue, all the mysteries and refine- ments of his fraudulent policy were employed, and with such success, that at a juncture which required the most strenuous efforts, as well as the most perfect union, the nobles never acted, except during one short sally of resentment at the beginning of his reign, either with vigour or in concert. As he stripped the nobility of their privileges, he added to the power and prerogative of the crown. In order to have at command such a body of soldiers as might be sufficient to crush any force that his disaffected subjects could draw together, he not only kept on foot the regular troops which his father had raised, but, besides augmenting their number con- siderably, he took into his pay six thousand Swiss, at that time the best disciplined and most formidable infantry in Europe.* From the jealousy natural to tyrants, he confided in these foreign mercenaries, as the most devoted instruments of oppression, and the most faithful guardians 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 considera- ble body of them encamped in one placet Great funds were requisite, not only to defray the expense of this addi- tional establishment, but to supply the sums employed in the various enterprises which the restless activity of his genius prompted him to undertake. But the prerogative that his father had assumed, of levying; laxes 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. What his prerogative, enlarged as it was, could not furnish, his address procured. He was the first monarch in Europe who discovered the method of managing those great assemblies, in which the feudal policy had vested the power of granting subsidies and of imposing 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 representatives, by bribing or overawing the members, and by various changes which he artfully made in the form of their deliberations, Louis acquired such entire direction of these assemblies, that, from being the vigilant guardians of the privilege and property of the people, he rendered them tamely subservient towards promoting the most odious measures of his reign. J As no power remained to set bounds to his exactions, he not only continued all the taxes imposed by his father, but made great additions to them, which amounted to a sum that appeared astonishing to his contemporaries.§ Nor was it the power alone or wealth of the crown that Louis increased ; he extended its territories by acquisitions of various kinds. He got pos- session of Roussillon by purchase ; Provence was conveyed to him by the will of Charles d'Anjou ; and upon the death of Charles the Bold, he seized with a strong hand Burgundy 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 unrelenting policy of Louis XL not only subdued the haughty spirit of the feudal nobles? but established a species of government, scarely less absolute, or less terrible than eastern despotism. But fatal as his administration was to the liberties of his subjects, the * Mem de Comines, torn. i. 367. Dan. Hist, de la Milice Francoise, torn. i. 182. t Mem. d« Com. torn. .. 381. X Ibid. torn. i. 136. Chron. Scandal, ibid. torn. ii. p. 71. $ Mem. de Com. torn. i. 334. Charles VII. levied taxes to the amount of 1,800,00(1 francs ; Louis XI. raised 4,700,000. The former had in pay 9000 cavalry and 16,000 infantry. The latter augmented the caralrv u< i j. 000, and the infantry to 35,000. Mem, resided. They possessed, however, no real authority or pre-eminence, >ut what they acquired by superior abilities, or superior sanctity. As Rome had so long been the seat of empire, and the capital of the world, its bishops were on that account entitled to respect * they received it ; but during several 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 obe- dience. Their claim of universal jurisdiction, as heads of the church ; and their pretensions to infallibility in their decisions, as successors of St. Peter, are as chimerical, as they are repugnant to the genius of the Chris- tian religion. But on these foundations, the superstition and credulity of mankind enabled them to erect an amazing superstructure. In all ecclesi- astical controversies, their decisions were received 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 sovereigns ; and laid kingdoms 60 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. III. under interdicts. There was not a state in Europe which had not been disquieted by their ambition. There was not a throne which they had not shaken ; npr a prince who did not tremble at their power. Nothing was wanting to render this empire absolute, and to establish it on the ruins of all civil authority, but that the popes should have possessed such a degree of temporal power, as was sufficient to second and enforce their spiritual decrees. Happily for mankind, at the time when their spi- ritual jurisdiction was most extensive, and most revered, their secuiar domi- nion was extremely limited. They were powerful pontiffs, formidable at a distance ; but they were petty princes, without any considerable domes- tic 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 ol a donation from Constantine, and of ano- ther from Charlemagne or his father Pepin, they attempted to take pos- session of some towns adjacent to Rome. But these donations were ficti- tious, and availed them little. The benefactions, for which they were indebted to the credulity of the Norman adventurers, who conquered Naples, 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 proportion to the extent of territory which they had acquired. In the dominions annexed to the Holy See, as well as in those subject to other princes in Italy, the sove- reign of a state was far from having the command of the force which it contained. During the turbulence and confusion of the middle ages, the powerful nobility, or leaders of popular factions in Italy, had seized the government of different towns; and, after strengthening their fortifications, and taking a body of mercenaries 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 the shadow of domestic authority. As these usurpations almost annihilated the papal power in the greater part of the towns subject to the church, the Roman barons frequently dis- puted the 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 spiritual, they ought to possess no property, and to claim no temporal jurisdiction ; but, according to the laudable example of their predecessors in the primitive church, should subsist wholly upon their tithes, or upon the voluntary oblations of the people."* This doctrine being addressed to men, who had beheld the scandalous man- ner 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 themselves instantly to shake off the yoke. They endeavoured to restore some image of their ancient liberty, by reviving the institution of the Roman senate [A. D. 1143], in which they vested supreme authority; committing the executive power sometimes to one chief senator, sometimes 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 dangerous encroachment on their jurisdiction. One of them, finding all his endeavours ineffectual) was so much mortified, that extreme grief cut short his days. Another, having ventured to attack the senators at the head of some armed men, was mortally wounded in the fray.t During a considerable period, the power of the popes, before which the greatest monarchs in Europe trembled, was circumscribed within such narrow limits in their own capital, that they durst hardly exert any act of authority, without the permission and concurrence of the senate. ♦Otto Frisingensis deGestis, Fridcr. Imp. lib. ii. cap. 10. t Otto Frising. Chron. Jib. vii. cap. 27. 31. Id. dc Gcst. Frid. lib. i. c. 27. Muratori Ajinali d'ltalia. vo!. ix- 3» 4"< STATE OF EUROPE. 61 Encroachments were made upon the papal sovereignty, not only by the usurpations of the Roman nobility, but by the mutinous spirit of the people. During seventy years of the fourteenth century, the popes fixed their resi- dence at Avignon. The inhabitants of Rome, accustomed to consider themselves as the descendants of the people who had conquered the world, and had given laws to it, were too high-spirited to submit 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 execu- tion of the papal mandates, and on the slightest appearance of innovation or oppression, they were ready to take arms in defence of their own immu- nities. Towards the middle of the fourteenth century, being instigated by Nicolas Rienzo, a man of low birth and a seditious spirit, but of popu- lar eloquence, and an enterprising ambition, they drove all the nobility out of the city, established a democratical form of government, elected Rienzo tribune of the people, and invested him with extensive authority. But though the frantic proceedings of the tribune soon overturned this new- system ; though the government of Rome was reinstated 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.* Gregory VII. 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 dread of their spiritual censures, and by the effect of their intrigues, which excited rivals, and called forth enemies against every prince whom they wished to depress or to destroy. Many attempts were made by the popes, not only to humble those usurpers, who lorded it over the cities in the ecclesiastical state, but to break the turbulent spirit of the Roman people. These were long unsuc- cessful. But at last Alexander VI., with a policy no less artful than flagi- tious, subdued and extirpated most of the great Koman barons, and ren- dered the popes masters of their own dominions. The enterprising ambi- tion of Julius II. added conquests of no inconsiderable value to the patri- mony of St. Peter. Thus the popes, by degrees, became powerful tem- poral princes. Their territories, in the age of Charles V., 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 contributions from every part of Europe, their revenues far exceeded 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 former, 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 fluctuated, and the objects at which they aimed varied, the church kept one end in view ; and to this unrelaxing constancy of pursuit, it was indebted for its success in the boldest attempts ever made by human ambition. 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 interest of the person who had the supreme direction of affairs, occasioned a v ariation both in objects and measures. As few prelates reached * Histoire Florentine de Giov. Villani, lib. xii. c. 89. JOt. ap. Murat. Script. Rerum Ital. vol. xiii. Vita de Cola di Rienzo, ap. Muia'. Antiq. Ital. vol. iii. p. 399. &?. Hist, de Nif. Rww. far M. de Boispreaux. p. 91. *c. 62 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. III. the summit of ecclesiastical dignity until they were far advanced in life, a change of masters was more frequent in the papal dominions than inothe? 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 sup- ported its spiritual dominion, the popes in the conduct of their temporal affairs were apt to follow the same maxims, and in all their measures were more ready to employ the refinements of intrigue, than the force of arms. It was in the papal court that address and subtlety in negotiation became a science ; and during the sixteenth century, Rome was considered as the school in which it might be best acquired. As the decorum of their ecclesiastical character prevented the popes from placing themselves at the head of their armies, or from taking the command in person 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 lor a short life ; present advantage was what they chiefly studied ; to squeeze and to amass, rather than to meliorate, was their object. They erected, perhaps, tome work of ostentation, to remain as a monument of their pontificate ; they found it necessary at some times, to establish useful institutions, in order to soothe and silence the turbulent populace of Rome ; but plans of general benefit to their subjects, framed with a view to futurity, w ere rarely objects of attention in the papal policy. The patrimony of St. Peter was worse governed than any part of Europe ; and though a generous 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. One circumstance, farther, concerning the papal-'government, is so sin- gular, as to merit attention. As the spiritual supremacy and temporal power were united in one person, and uniformly aided each other in their operations, they became so blended together, that it was difficult to separate them, even in imagination. The potentates, who found it neces- sary 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 reluctance 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 conscious- ness of this encouraged the enterprising pontiffs who filled the papal throne about the beginning 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 through with success, the respecr. paid to their spiritual dignity would enable them to extricate themselves with facility and with honour.* But when popes came to take part more. * The manner in which Louis XII. of France undertook and carried on war against Julius [T. remarkably illustrates this observation. Louis solemnly consulted the clergy of Franre, whether it was lawful to take arms against a pope who had wantonly kindled war in Europe, and whom nei ■ ther the faith of treaties, nor gratitude for favours received, nor the decorum of his character. coulft STATE OF EUROPE. 63 frequently in the contests among princes, and to engage as principals or auxiliaries in every war kindled in Europe, this veneration for their sacred character began to abate ; and striking instances will occur in the following history of its being almost totally extinct. Of all the Italian powers, the republic of Venice, next to the papal see, was most connected with the rest of Europe. The rise of that com- monwealth, during, the inroads of the Huns in the fifth century ; the singular situation of its capital in the small isles of the Adriatic gulf; and the more singular form of its civil constitution, are generally known. If we view the Venetian government as calculated for the order of nobles alone, its institutions may be pronounced excellent ; the deliberative, legis- lative, 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 people subject to its jurisdiction, it will appear a rigid and partial aristocracy, which lodges a'l power in the hands of a tew members of the community, while it degrades and oppresses the rest. The spirit of government in a commonwealth of this species, was, of course, timid and jealous. The Venetian nobles distrusted their own sub- jects, and were afraid of allowing them the use of arms. They encouraged anions; them the arts of industry and commerce ; they employed 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 republic con- sisted 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 accustomed to the exercise of such power, as would make them unwilling to return to the condition of private citizens. 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 suspicious policy, which induced the Venetians to employ these adventurers, prevented their placing entire confidence in them. Two noblemen, appointed by the senate, ac- companied their army, when it took the field, with the appellation of Pro- veditori, and, like the field-deputies of the Dutch republic in latter times, observed all the motions of the general, and checked and controlled him in all his operations. A commonwealth with such civil and military institutions, was not formed to make conquests. While its subjects were disarmed, and its nobles excluded from military command, it carried on its warlike enter- prises with great disadvantage. This ought to have taught the Venetians to rest satisfied with making self-preservation and the enjoyment of do- mestic security, the objects of their policy. But republics are apt to be seduced 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 ot their constitution. 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 lawl illness of it. The kins himself, from some superstition of the same kind, carriea it on faintly ; and, upon every fresh advantage, renewed his propositions of peace. Mezeray, Hist, de France, fol. edit. 1685, torn. i. 852. I shall produce another proof of this reverence for the papa! character still more striking. Guiccjardini, 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 br Heaven, on account of his having opposed the setting of Clement Yli. at libertv. Gi'i<\ Hist"r% d'ltalia. Genev. 1645. vol ii. lib. IS. p. 467. 64 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. III. It is not, however, by its military, but by its naval and commercial power, that the importance of the Venetian commonwealth must be estimated. The latter constituted the real force and nerves of the state. The jealousy of government did not extend to this department. 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 to the Venetians. All the nations in Europe depended upon them, not only for the commo- dities 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 for the force which any of its neighbours could bring into the field, but were sufficient to contend, for some time, with the powerful monarchs 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 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 of five in the hundred.* The constitution of Florence was perfectly the reverse of the Venetian. It partook as much of democratical turbulence and licentiousness, as the other of aristocratical rigour. Florence, however, was a commereial, not a military democracy. The nature of its institutions was favourable to commerce, and the genius of the people was turned toAvards 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 ascendant over* the affections as well as the councils of his countiymen, that though the forms of popular government were preserved, though the various departments of administration were filled by magistrates distinguished by the ancient names, and elected in the usual manner, he was in reality the head of the commonwealth ; and in the station of a private citizen, he possessed supreme 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 appearance of republican government subsisted, the people were passionately attached to it, and on some occasions con- tended warmly for their privileges, and yet they permitted a single family to assume the direction ot their affairs, almost as absolutely as if it had been formerly invested with sovereign power. 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 states. The troops, which the Florentines employed in their wars, consisted almost entirely of mercenary soldiers, furnished by the Condottieri, or leaders of bands, whom they took into their pay. In the kingdom of Naples, to which the sovereignty of the island of Sicily was annexed, the feudal government were established in the same form, and with the same defects, as in the other nations of Europe. The frequent and violent revolutions which happened in that monarchy had considerably increased these defects, and rendered them more intolerable. * Ui. ;ii ll. Frederick, 'jnable to resist the combined monarchs, each of whom was far his superior in power, resigned his sceptre. Louis and Ferdinand, though they had concurred in making the conquest, differed about the division of it ; and Irom allies became enemies. But Gonsalvo de Cordova, partly by the exer- tion of such military talents as gave him a just title to the appellation of the Great Captain, which the Spanish historians have bestowed upon him ; and partly by such shameless and frequent violations of the most solemn engagements, as leave an indelible stain on his memory; stripped the French of all that they possessed in the Neapolitan dominions, and secured the peaceable possession of them to his master. These, together with his other kingdoms, Ferdinand transmitted to his grandson Charles V. 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.j There is nothing in the political constitution or interior government of the dutchy of Milan, so remarkable, 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 V. it is necessary 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 Giielf and Ghibelline factions, the family of Visconti rose to great emi- nence among their fellow-citizens of Milan. As the Visconti had adhered uniformly to the Ghibelline or Imperial interest, they, by way of recom- pense, received, from one emperor, the dignity of perpetual vicars of the empire in ItalyJ [A. D. 1354] : they were created, by another, dukes of Milan [A. D. 1395] ; and, together with that title, the possession of the city and its territories was bestowed upon them as an hereditary fief.§ 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 VI. In their marriage-contract, which the Pope confirmed, it was stipulated that, upon failure of heirs male in the of year wit x ujjc i i linn men. ii vvds oiipuidicu iu.u,u['iui lanuic ui liens iii.iie iu 11 family of Visconti, the dutchy of Milan should descend to the posterity Valentine and the duke of Orleans. That event took place. In the ye * Giannone, book xxvi. ch. 2. f Droits des Bois de France au Royaume de Sicile. Mem.de Comin. Edit, de Fresnoy, torn. iv. part iv. p. 5. t Petrarch, enist. ap. Struv. Corn. i. G25 § J^lirrit. Cod. Jur. Oent. Diplom. vol. i. 237. STATE OF EUROPE. &7 1447, Philip Maria, the last prince of the ducal family of Visconti, died. Various competitors claimed the succession. Charles, duke of Orleans., 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 re-annexed to the Empire. The peo- ple 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, 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 followed 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 dutchy, 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 subjects to forget the defects in his title, he transmitted his dominions quietly to his son ; from whom they descended to his grandson. He was murdered by his grand-uncle Ludovico, surnamed the Moor, who took possession of the dutchy ; and his right to it was confirmed by the investi- ture of the emperor Maximilian in the year 1494.* Louis XI., 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 dutchy of Milan. Ludovico the Moor kept up such a close connection with Charles VIII. 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 XII. 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 support 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, Ludovico, having been betrayed by the Swiss in his pay, was sent a prisoner into France, and shut up in the castle of Loches, where he lay unpitied during the remainder 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 possession during the reign of Louis Xll. [A. D. 1512.] But his successor Francis I. 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 appears, from this detail, to have been more natural and more just than that of any other competitor. It is unnecessary to enter into any detail with respect 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 inconsiderable, that their fate depended little upon their own efforts ; and the frequent revolutions which they underwent, were brought about rather by the operations of the princes who attacked or defended them, than by any thing peculiar id their internal constitution. * Ripalin. Hist. Mtdiol. lib. vi. 63-1. ap. Siruv. Corp. i. MO. Da Mont Cuips Diplom. torn. lii. p ii. "J33. ib. . 6& A V JEW OF THE [Sec*. III. Of the great kingdoms on this side of the Alps, Spain is one of the most considerable ; and as it was the hereditary domain of Charles V. as well as the chief source of his power and wealth, a distinct knowledge of its political constitution is of capital importance towards understanding the transactions of his reign. The Vandals and Goths, who overturned the Roman power in Spain, established a form of government in that country, and introduced customs and laws, perfectly 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 Euro- pean nations. To this progress a sudden stop was put by the invasion of the Saracens or Moors from Africa [A. D. 712.] The Goths could not withstand the efforts of their enthusiastic valour, which subdued the greatest part of Spain, with the same impetuous rapidity that distinguishes all the operations of their arms. The conquerors introduced into the country in which they settled, the Mahometan religion, the Arabic language, the manners of the East, together with that taste for the arts, and that love of elegance and splendour, 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 mountains 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 thinking of conquest. By degrees, their strength in- creased, their views enlarged, a regular government was established among them, and they began to aim at extending their territories. While they pushed on their attacks 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 advantages to which they had been indebted (or their first success. They threw off all dependence on the caliphs ;* they neglected to preserve a close connection with their countrymen in Africa 5 their empire in Spain 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 resources. According to the magnificent style ot the Spanish historians, eight centuries of almost uninterrupted war elapsed, and three thousand seven hundred battles were fought, before the last of the Moorish kingdoms in Spain submitted to the Christian arms [1492]. As the Christians made their conquests upon the Mahometans at various f)eriods, and under different leaders, each formed the territory which he lad wrested from the common enemy, into an independent state. Spain was divided into almost as many separate kingdoms as it. contained pro- vinces ; in each city of note, a petty monarch established his throne, and assumed all the ensigns of royalty. In a series of years, however, by the usual events of intermarriages, or succession, or conquest, all these interior principalities were annexed to the more powerful kingdoms of Castile and of Aragon. At length, by the fortunate marriage of Ferdinand • Joa, Pirn. Awsemanni Histor. "ital. Scriptorca. vol Hi. j> l?r STATE OF EUROPE. 63 and Isabella, the former the hereditary monarch of Aragon, and the latter raised to the throne of Castile by the affection of her subjects [1481], all the Spanish crowns were united, and descended in the same line. From this period, the political constitution of Spain began to assume a regular and uniform appearance ; the genius of its government may be delineated, and the progress of its laws and manners may be traced with certainty. Notwithstanding the singular revolution 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 introduced by the Vandals and Goths had taken such deep root, and were so thoroughly incorporated with the frame of its government, that in every province which the Chris- tians recovered from the Moors, we find the condition of individuals, as well as the political constitution, nearly the same as in other nations of Europe. Lands were held by the same tenure; justice was dispensed in the same form ; the same privileges were claimed by the nobility ; and the same power exercised by the Cortes, or general assembly of the king- dom. Several circumstances contributed to secure this permanence of the feudal institutions in Spain, notwithstanding 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 repug- nant. Even among the Christians, who submitted to the Moorish con- querors, and consented to become their subjects, ancient customs were not entirely abolished. 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 Prophet, permitted such as would not embrace it, to adhere to their own tenets, and to practise their own rites. To this pecu- liarity in the genius of the Mahometan 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 introduction of a new religion and a new form of government into that country. It is obvious, from all these particulars, that the Christians must have found it extremely easy to re-establish manners and government 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 completely 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 the institutions which characterize it, was thus preserved entire in Castile and Aragon, as well as in all 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 in every feudal kingdom, was circumscribed, in Spain, within such narrow bounds, as reduced the power of the sovereign almost to nothing. The -privileges of the nobility were great in proportion, and extended so far, as to border on absolute independence. The immunities of the cities were likewise greater than in other feudal kingdoms, they possessed considerable influence in the Cortes, and they aspired at obtain- ing 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 70 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. HI. rose beyond the pitch of turbulence and anarchy usual under the feudal government. The whole tenor of the Spanish history confirms 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 outrageous insults on their dignity, than occur in the annals of any other country. These were accompanied at some times with more liberal sentiments concerning the rights of the people, at other times with more elevated notions concerning the privileges of the nobles, than were common in other nations. In the principality of Catalonia, which was annexed to the kingdom of Aragon, the impatience of the people to obtain the redress of their frievances having prompted them to take arms against their sovereign, ohn II. [A. D. 1462], they, by a solemn deed, recalled the oath of alle- giance which they had sworn to him, declared him and his posterity to be unworthy of the throne,* and endeavoured to establish a republican form of government, in order to secure the perpetual enjoyment oi that liberty, after which they aspired. t Nearly about the same period, the indignation of the Castilian nobility against the weak and flagitious administration of Henry IV. having led them to combine against him, they arrogated, as one of the privileges belonging to their order, the right of trying and of 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 sum- moned all the nobility of their party to meet at Avila [A, D. 1465] ; a spacious theatre was erected in a plain, without the walls of the town ; an image, representing 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 deposition was pronounced, in presence of a numerous assembly. At the close of the hrst 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 Piacentia 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 close of the last, Don Diego Lopes de Stuniga tumbled it headlong from the throne. At the same instant, Don Alphonso, Henry's brother, was proclaimed king of Castile and Leon in his stead. | 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, but the genius and maxims of it were purely republican. The kings who were long elective, retained only the shadow of power ; the real exercise of it was in the Cortes or parliament of the kingdom. This supreme assembly was com- posed of four different arms or members. The nobilitv of the first rank ; The equestrian order, or nobility of the second class ; The representatives 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 ecclesiastical order, composed of the dignitaries of the church, together with the representatives of the inferior clergy, § No law could * Znrita Annates dp Arng. torn. iv. 113. 1 15, &c. t Ferreras Hist. d'Espasne, torn. vii. p. 92. P. Orleans Revo). d'Eapagne, torn. iii. p. 155. L. Marineus Siculus- de Run. Biapan. apud Schotti Script. Hlspan. I'ol. 490, J Marian. Hist. lib. \\iii. c, 0. <\ Forma de »VIrar. Corte* in Aragop. por Gcron. iVlartfl. STATE OF EUROPE. 71 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.! The power of reviewing the proceedings of all inferior courts, the privilege of inspecting every department of administration, and the right of redressing all grievances, belonged to the Cortes. Nor did those who conceived themselves to be aggrieved, address the Cortes in the humble tone of suppliants, and petition for redress ; 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.| This sovereign court was held, during several centuries, every year ; but, in consequence of a regulation introduced about the beginning of the four- teenth 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.§ Not satisfied with having erected such formidable barriers against the encroachments of the royal prerogative, 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 recourse to an institution peculiar to themselves, and elected a Justiza or supreme judge. This magistrate, whose otfice 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 them- selves, were bound to consult him in every doubtful case, and to receive his responses with implicit deference.il 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 made to him, he could interpose by his own authority, prohibit the ordinary judge to proceed, take immediate cognizance of the court 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 ot government, than in regulating the courts of justice. It was the pre- rogative of the justiza, to inspect the conduct of the king. He had a title to review all the royal proclamations 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 maladministra- tion. 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 importance that could be committed to a sub- ject [31]. IT It is evident, from a bare enumeration of the privileges of the Aragonese Cortes, as well as of the rights belonging to the justiza, that a very small portion of power remained in the hands of the king. The Aragonese 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 accom- panied with professions of submission and respect, they devised an oath, in such a form, as to remind him of his dependence on his subject*. " We," said the justiza to the king, in name of his high-spirited barons, * Martel. ibid. p. 2. t Hier. Blanca Comment. Kit. Arapon. ap. Schot. Script Hispan. vol. iii. p. 750. J Martel. Forma de Celebr. p. 2. § Hier. Blanca Comment. 7C3. || Blanca has preserved two responses of the jus! iza to James II. who reigned towards tlie close of Llie thirteenth century. Blanca. 7-1P. V flier. Blanca Comment, p. 747— 755. n 'A VIEW OF THE [Sect. Ill- " who are eacli of us as good, and who are 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 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.* The attachment of the Aragonese to this singular constitution of government was extreme, and their respect for it approached to super- stitious veneration [32]. In the preamble to one ot their laws, they declare, that such was the barrenness of their country, and the poverty of the inhabitants, 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 settlement to some more fruitful region. t In Castile there were not such peculiarities in the form of government, as to establish any remarkable distinction between it and that of the other European nations. The executive part of government was committed to the king, but with a prerogative extremely limited. The legislative authority resided in the Cortes, which was composed of the nobility, the dignified ecclesiastics, 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 regulated 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 ot 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 Cortes of Castile, and soon acquired such influence and credit, as were very uncommon, at a period when the splendour and pre-eminence of the nobility had eclipsed or depressed all other orders of men. yhe number of members from cities bore such a proportion to that of the whole collective body, as rendered them extremely respectable in the Cortes [33]. The degree of consideration, which they possessed in the state, may be estimated by one event. Upon the death of John I. [A. D. 1390] a council of regency was appointed to govern the kingdom 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.J But though the members of communities in Castile were elevated above the condition wherein they were placed in other kingdoms 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 commons, 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 Castile. The history of that monarchy affords the most striking examples of the vigilance with which they observed, 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 intercourse with their monarchs, they preserved such a consciousness of their rank, that the nobles of the first order claimed it as a privilege to be covered in * JJier. Blanca Comment, p. 790 | Ibid p. 751 } Marian. Hist lib. xviii c. 15. STATE OF EUROPE. 73 the 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 ol the king- doms 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. An attentive observation of the singular situation of Spain, as well as the various events which occurred there, from the invasion of the Moors to the union of its kingdoms under Ferdinand and Isabella, will discover 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 themselves. 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 ter- ritory of the prince extended. During their perpetual wars with the Moors, the monarchs of the seve- ral 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 immunities as raised them almost to sovereign power. At the same time, the kingdoms erected in so many different corners of Spain, were of inconsiderable extent. 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 that the sovereigns of the great monar- chies in Europe were viewed by their subjects [34J. 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 incursions of the enemy, with whom no peace or truce was so permanent as to prove any lasting security, self-preservation obliged persons of all ranks to fix their residence in places of strength. The castles of the barons, which, in other countries, afforded a commo- dious retreat from the depredations of banditti, or from the transient vio- lence of any interior commotion, were unable to resist an enemy whose operations were conducted with regular and persevering vigour. Cities, in which great numbers united for their mutual defence, were the only places in which people could reside 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 accele- rate the increase of inhabitants in every place that is the seat of govern- ment. 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 beyond the proportion which was common in other parts of Europe, except in Italy and the Low Countries. The Moors had introduced manufactures into those cities, while under their dominion. The Christians, who, by intermixture with them, had learned their arts. Vol. IT.— 10 74 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. III. 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 preserve 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 resided in towns in other countries of Eu- rope. 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 persons 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 con- stituents, and on the stations 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 became 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 exempt from the burden ol taxes. The charge of supporting 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 gam their favour by concessions, which not only extended their immunities, but added to their wealth and power. When the influence of all these circumstances, peculiar to Spain, is added to the general and common causes, which contributed to aggran- dize cities in other countries of Europe, this will fully account for the extensive privileges which they acquired, as well as for the extraordinary consideration to which they attained, in all the Spanish kingdoms [35]. By these exorbitant privileges of the nobility, and this unusual power of the cities in Spain, the royal prerogative was hemmed in on every side, and reduced within very narrow bounds. Sensible of this, and im- patient of such restraint, several monarchs endeavoured at various junc- tures 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 Ferdinand and Isabella found themselves at the head of the united kingdoms of Spain, and delivered from the danger and interruption of domestic wars, they were not only in a condition to resume, but were now able to pro- secute 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 admi- rably for an undertaking which required all these talents. As the overgrown power and high pretensions of the nobility were what the monarchs of Spain felt most sensibly, and bore with the great- est impatience, the great object of Ferdinand's policy was to reduce these within more moderate bounds. Under various pretexts, sometimes by violence, more frequently in consequence 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, farticularly during the feeble and profuse reign of his predecessor Henry V- He did not give the entire conduct of affairs to persons 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 tran«artod btisinoss of trreat consequence without their intervention, STATE OF EUROPE. 75 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 deference and respect. The annexing the masterships of the three military orders of St. Jago, Calatrava, and Alcantara, to the crown, was another expedient, by which Ferdinand greatly augmented the revenue and power of the kings of Spain. These orders were instituted in imitation of those of the Knights Templars and of St. John of Jerusalem, 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 nobleman 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 [36]. Ferdinand, unwilling that the nobility, whom he considered as already too formidable, should derive such additional credit and influence from 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 were wisely planned, and executed with vigourf [A. D. 1476 and 1493]. By addresses, by promises, and by threats, he prevailed on the knights of each order to place Isabella and him at the head of it. Innocent VIII. and Alexander VI. gave this election the sanction of papal authority ;J and subsequent pontiffs rendered the annexation of these masterships to the crown perpetual. While Ferdinand, by this measure, diminished the power and influence of the nobility, and added new lustre or authority to the crown, he was taking other important steps with a view to the same object. The sove- reign jurisdiction, which the feudal barons exercised 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 opportunity 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 interrupt commerce, but in a great measure to suspend all intercourse between one place and another. That security and protection, which men expect from entering into civil society, ceased in a great degree. Internal order 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 * Zurita Annates de Arag. torn. vi. p. 22. f Marian. Hist. lib. xxv. c. 5. * Zurita Annalcs, torn. v. p. 22. JStti Anion. Nebrissensis rerum a Ferdinand et F.lizabe gestarum deraries ii. apiid S-liot. script. Hispan. i. S'W. 76 A VIEW OF THE [&ct. III. self-preservation forced them to have recourse 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 appointed judges, who opened their courts in various parts of the kingdom. Whoever was guilty of murder, robbery, or of any act that violated the public peace, and was seized by the troops oi the Brotherhood, 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 crimi- nals. By the establishment of this fraternity, the prompt and impartial administration of justice was restored ; and, together with it, internal tranquillity 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 remonstrated against it in a high tone ; and, on some occasions, 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 an- nihilate, the territorial jurisdiction of the nobility. He countenanced it on every occasion. He supported it with the whole iorce of royal au- thority ; and besides the expedients employed by him in common with the other monarchs of Europe, he availed himself of this institution, 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 authority of the prince, than with the order of society [37]. But though Ferdinand by these measures considerably enlarged the boundaries of prerogative, and acquired a degree of influence and power far beyond what any of his predecessors had enjoyed, yet the limitations of the royal authority, as well as the barriers against its encroachments, continued to be many and "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, peculiar 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 enabled him not only to undertake but to execute great enterprises ; he reigned over his subjects with a jurisdiction less extersive than that of any of the great monarchs in Europe. It will appear from many passages in the following history, that during a considerable part of the reign of his successor Charles V. the prerogative of the Spanish crown was equally circumscribed. The ancient government and laws in France so nearly resembled those of the other feudal kingdoms, that such a detail with respect to them as was necessary, in order 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 kingdom, as enabled them to engage in extensive schemes of foreign ope- ration, I have already pointed out the great steps by which they advanced tov/ards 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 tbroAv any light on the transactions of that period, to which the following history extends. Under the French monarchs of the first race, the royal prerogative was very inconsiderable. The general assemblies of the nation, which met annually at stated seasons, extended their authority to every department STATE OF EUROPE. 7? of government. The power of electing kings, of enacting laws, of re- dressing 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 second race of kings, notwithstanding the power and splendour which the con- quests of Charlemagne 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 ac- customed 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. 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 insignificance and contempt. Every considerable proprietor of land had formed his territoiy into a barony, almost independent 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, particularly the privileges of dispensing justice within their own domains, of coining money, and of waging- war. Every district was governed by local customs, acknowledged a distinct lord, and pursued a separate in- terest. 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 obligations [38]. In a kingdom broken into so many independent baronies, hardly any common principle of union remained ; and the general assembly, in its deliberations, could scarcely consider the nation as forming one body, or establish common regulations to be of equal force in 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 encroachment 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 powei\ 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 French nation came then to be distinguished) lost their legislative authority, or at least entirely relinquished the exercise of it. From that period, the jurisdiction 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 Europe seldom demanded extraordinary subsidies of their subjects, and the other events, which required the interposition 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 their fears to have recourse to 78 A VIEW OF THE [sect. ill. 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 constitution, the regular exertion ot whose powers was requisite to give vigour and order to government. When the states of France ceased to exercise legislative authority, the kings began to assume it. They 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 ordinances in a tone of authority and command. They treated with their subjects; they pointed out what was best; and allured them to comply with it. By degrees, however, 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 cen- tury, the complete legislative power was vested in the crown [39]. Having secured this important acquisition, the steps which led to the right of imposing taxes were rendered few and easy. The peopleyaccustomed to see their sovereigns issue ordinances, by their sole authority, which regu- lated points of the greatest consequence with respect to the property of their subjects, were not alarmed when they were required, by the royal edicts, to contribute certain sums towards supplying the exigencies of government, and carrying forward the measures of the nation. When Charles VII. and Louis XI. 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 kingdom, and seems scarcely to have given rise to any murmur or complaint. When the kings of France had thus engrossed every power which can be exerted in government ; when the right of making laws, of levying money, of keeping an army of mercenaries in constant pay, of declaring war, 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 rac£, became an aristocracy ; terminated, under the third race, in a pure monarchy. Every thing that tended to preserve the appearance or revive the memory of the ancient mixed government, seems from that period to have been industriously avoided. During the long and active reign of Francis I. the variety as well as extent of whose operations obliged him 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 the exercise of the regal prerogative, and restrained it within such bounds as preserved the constitution of France from degenerating into mere despotism. The rights and privileges claimed by the nobility, must be considered as one barrier against the absolute dominion 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 pre-eminence which they derived from their rank. They preserved a consciousness of elevation above other classes of citizens ; an exemption from burdens to which persons of inferior condition were subject ; a contempt of the occupations in which they were engaged; 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 various 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 delicate, but no less sacred. These rights, established and protected by a STATE OF EUROPE. 79 principle equally vigilant in guarding, and intrepid in defending them, are to the sovereign himself objects of respect and veneration. Wherever 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.* As in France the body of nobility was veiy numerous, and the indi- viduals of which it was composed, retained a high sense of their own pre- eminence, to this we may ascribe, in a great measure, the mode ot exer- cising the royal prerogative which peculiarly distinguishes the govern- ment of that kingdom. An intermediate order was placed between the monarch and his other subjects; 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. Thusi'a species of government was established in France, unknown in the ancient world, that of a monarchy, in which the power of the sovereign, though unconfirmed by any legal or constitutional restraint, has certain bounds set to i| by the ideas which one class of his subjects entertain concerning their Own dignity. The jurisdiction of the parliaments in France, particularly that of Paris, was the other barrier which served to confine the exercise of the royal prerogative within certain limits. The parliament of Paris was originally the court of the kings of France, towhich they committed the supreme administration of justice within theii 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 principles on which it decided, were rendered regular and consistent, when every cause of importance was finally determined there, and when the people became accustomed to resort thither as to the supreme temple of justice, the par- liament of Paris rose to high estimation in the kingdom, its members acquired dignity, and its decrees 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 and declared to be of authority in the king- dom. During 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 monarchs of France were accustomed to consult the parlia- ment of Paris with respect to the most arduous affairs of government, and frequently regulated their conduct by its advice, in declaring war, in con- cluding peace, and in other transactions of public concern. Thus there \vas erected in the kingdom a tribunal which became the great depository of the laws, and by the uniform tenor of its decrees established principles of justice and forms of proceeding which were considered so sacred, that even the sovereign power of the monarch dunt not venture to disregard or to violate them. 1 he 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 coi'iitrymen, in order to make a stand to the utmost of their ability, against every unprecedented and exor- bitant exertion of the prerogative. Fn every period of the French history, * De l'Espiit des Loir, liv. ii. c. 4. Dr. Ferguson's Essay on llie Hist, of Civil Society, part scot. 10. so A VIEW OF THE [Sect. III-. they have merited the praise of being the virtuous but feeble guardians of the rights and privileges of the nation [40]. After taking this view of the political state of France, I proceed to con- sider that of the German empire, from which Charles V. derived his title of highest dignity. In explaining the constitution of this great and com- plex body at the beginning of the sixteenth century, I shall avoid entering into such a detail as would involve my readers in that inextricable laby- rinth, which is formed by the multiplicity of its tribunals, the number of its members, their interfering rights, and by the endless discussions or refinements of the public lawyers of Germany, with respect to all these. The empire of Charlemagne was a structure erected in so short a time, that it could not be permanent. Under his immediate successor it began to totter ; and soon after fell to pieces. The crown of Germany was sepa- rated from that of France, and the descendants of Charlemagne established two great monarchies so situated 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 degene- rate, 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 Ger- many, though possessed of extensive privileges as well as ample, territories, did not so early attain independence. The great offices of the crown con- tinued to be at the disposal of the sovereign, and during a long period, fiefs remained in their original state, without becoming hereditary and perpetual in the families of the persons to whom they had been granted. At length the German branch of *he family of Charlemagne became extinct, and his feeble descendants who reigned in France had sunk into such contempt, that the Germans, without looking towards them, exercised the right inherent in a free people ; and in a general assembly of the nation elected Conrad count of Franconia emperor [A. D. 911]. 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 exten- sive territories of the Saxon emperors, their eminent abilities and enterprising genius, not only added new vigour to the Imperial dignity, but raised it to higher power and pre-eminence. Otho the Great marched at the head of a numerous army into Italy [A. D. 952], and after the example of Charle- magne, gave law to that country. Every power there acknowledged his authority. He created popes, and deposed them by his sovereign man- date. He annexed the kingdom of Italy to the German empire. Elated with his success, he assumed the title of Cesar Augustus.* A prince, born in the heart of Germany, pretended to be the successor of the emperors of ancient Rome, and claimed a right to the same power and prerogative. But while the emperors, by means of these new titles and new domi- nions, gradually acquired additional authority and splendour, the nobility of Germany 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 ot 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 usurpations, but to permit, and even to authorize them. Fiefs gradually became hereditary. They were transmitted not only in 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 exercise sovereign jurisdiction within his own domains; and the dukes * Annalists Paxo. Sec. ay Strav. Corp. vol. i- p. 24fi .STATE OF EUROPE. g? and counts of Germany took wide steps towards rendering their territo- ries distinct and independent 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 potent, 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, they were solicitous not to alarm them by any direct attack on their privileges and jurisdic- tions. They aimed, however, at undermining their power. With this view, they inconsiderately bestowed additional territories, and accumu- lated new honours on the clergy, in hopes that this order might serve as a counterpoise to that of the nobility in any future struggle. t The unhappy effects of this fatal error in policy were quickly felt. Under the emperors of the Franconian and Suabian lines, whom the Ger- mans, by their 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 [A. D. 1024], and in the present age appears almost incredible. The popes, hitherto dependent 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 Irantic sally of passion in a pontiff intoxicated with high ideas concerning the extent cf priestly domination, and the {ilenitude of papal authority. Gregory VII. was able as well as daring, lis presumption and violence were accompanied with political discern- ment and sagacity. He had observed that the princes and nobles of Ger- many had acquired such considerable territories and such extensive juris- diction, as rendered them not only formidable to the emperors, but dis- posed them to favour any attempt to circumscribe their power. He fore- saw 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 Gregory negotiated, and had secured many devoted adherents among Ihem, before he ventured to enter the lists against the head of the empire. He began his rupture with Henry IV. upon a pretext that was popular and plausible. He complained of the venality and corruption with which the emperor had granted the investiture of benefices to ecclesias- tics. He contended that this right belonged to him as 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 sacrilegious 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 considerable 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. J 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 suppliant at the gate of the castle in which the pope resided, and to stand there three days, bare-footed, in the depth of winter, imploring a pardon, which at length he obtained with difficulty [41]. This act oi humiliation degraded the Imperial dignity. Nor wa3 the " Ffeffel. Abrege, p. 120. 152. Lib. Feudor. tit i. ' Pfeflfel. Abrt'go, p. 151 ' Annal. Goi- nian. an. Struv. i. p. 325. Vol. IT.~11 32 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. HI. 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 de- fending the rights of the emperor, kept Germany and Italy in perpetual agi- tation during three centuries. A regular system for humbling the emperors and circumscribing their power was formed, and adhered to uniformly throughout that period. The popes, the free states in Italy, the nobility and ecclesiastics of Germany, were all interested in its success : and not- withstanding the return of some short intervals of vigour, under the admi- nistration ot a few able emperors, the Imperial authority continued to decline. During the anarchy of the long interregnum, subsequent to the death of William of Holland [A. D. 1456], it dwindled down annost to nothing. Rodulph of Hapsburgh, the founder of the House of Austria, and who first opened the way to its future grandeur, was at length elected emperor [A. D. 1273], not that he might re-establish and extend the Im- perial authority, but because his territories and influence were so inconsi- derable as to excite no jealousy in the German princes, who were willing to preserve the forms of a constitution, the power and vigour of which they had destroyed. Several of bis successors were placed on the Impe- rial throne from the same motive ; and almost every remaining preroga- tive was rescued out of the hands of feeble princes unable to exercise or to defend them. DiMng this period of turbulence and confusion, the constitution of the Germanic body underwent a total change. The ancient names of courts and magistrates, together with the original forms and appearance of policy, were preserved ; but such new privileges and jurisdiction were assumed, and so many various rights established, that the same species of govern- ment no longer subsisted. The princes, the great nobility, the dignified ecclesiastics, the free cities, had taken advantage of the interregnum, which I have mentioned, to establish or to extend their usurpations. They claimed and exercised the right of governing their respective ter- ritories with full sovereignty. They acknowledged no superior with respect to any point, relative to the interior administration and police of their domains. They enacted laws, imposed taxes, coined money, de- clared 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 connection or dependence among the various members of the community, as pre- served it from falling to pieces. This bond, of union, however, was extremely feeble ; and hardly any principle remained in the German constitution, of sufficient force to main- tain public order, or even to ascertain personal security. From the acces- sion of Rodulph of Hapsburgh, to the reign of Maximilian, the imme- diate predecessor of Charles v., the empire felt every calamity which a state must endure, when the authority of government is so much relaxed aa 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 violence that usually accompanies resentment, when unrestrained by superior authority. Rapine, outrage, exactions, became universal. Commerce was interrupted; industiy sus- pended ; and every part of Germany resembled a country which an enemy had plundered and left desolate* The variety of expedients em- ployed with a view to restore order and tranquillity, prove that the * See above, iiri;<: "23. and Note xxi. Ttett. de oarc puldica toper. i>. Cj. do. S3 p. 88, no 36, p ?'• no. 1 ! . STATE OF EUROPE. grievances occasioned by this state of anarchy had groAvn 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. '1 he nobility formed confede- racies, on purpose to maintain tranquillity among their own order. Ger- many 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.* But all these remedies were so ineffectual, that they served only to demonstrate the violence of that anarchy which prevailed, and the insuf- ficiency of the means employed to correct it. At length Maximilian re- established public order in the empire, by instituting the Imperial cham- ber [A. D. 1495], a tribunal composed of judges named partly by the emperor, partly by the several states, and vested with authority to decide finally concerning all differences among the members of the Germanic body". A few years after [A. D. 1512], by giving a new form to the Aulic council, which takes cognizance of all feudal causes, and such as belong to the emperor's immediate jurisdiction, he restored some degree of vigour to the imperial authority. "But notwithstanding the salutary effects of these regulations and improve- ments, the political constitution of the German empire, at the commence • ment of the period of which I propose io write the history, was of a spe- cies so peculiar, as not io resemble perfectly any form of government known either in the ancient or modern world. It was a complex body* formed by the associatior. of several states, each ot which possessed sove- reign 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 exe- cution was committed. But ihis 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 administration. No law extend- ing 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. Under this aspect, the constitution of the empire appears a regular confederacy, similai to the Achaean league in ancient Greece, or to that of the United Provinces 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 acknow- ledged them as sovereigns. Besides this, they originally held their lands as Imperial fiefs, and in consequence of this tenure owed the emperors all those services which feudal vassals are bound to perform to their liege lord. But though this political subjection was entirely at an end, and the influence of the feudal relation much diminished, the ancient forms and institutions, introduced while the emperors governed Germany with autho- rity not inferior to that which the other monarchs of Europe possessed, still remained. Thus an opposition was established 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 * Datt. psMim. Stmv. Corp. Hitt. i. 6lU,&'r 84 A VIEW OF THE [Sect. III. dignity ; the latter seemed to imply, that he is really invested with sove- reign power. By this circumstance, such principles of hostility and discord were interwoven into the frame of the Germanic body, as affected each of its members, rendering their interior union incomplete, and their 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 V. or form just ideas concerning the genius of the German government. The emperors of Germany, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, were distinguished by the most pompous titles, and by such ensigns of dignity, as intimated their authority to be superior to that of all other monarchs. * The greatest princes of the empire attended, and served them, on some occasions, as the officers of their household. They exercised prerogatives which no other sovereign ever claimed. They retained pre- tensions 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 Cologne, along both banks of the Rhine,* 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 almost to nothing ; and the extraordinary aids, which on a few occasions they obtained, were granted sparingly and paid with reluctance. The frinces and states of the empire, though they seemed to recognise the mperial authority, were subjects only in name, each of them possessing a complete municipal jurisdiction within the precincts of his own ter- ritories. From this ill-compacted frame of government, effects that were unavoid- able resulted. The emperors, dazzled with the splendour of their titles, and the external signs of vast authority, were apt to imagine themselves to be the real sovereigns of Germany, and were led to aim continually at recovering the exercise of those powers which the forms of the constitution seemed to vest in them, and which their predecessors, Charlemagne and the Othos, had actually enjoyed. The princes and states, aware of the nature as well as extent 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. This jealousy of the Imperial authority, together with the opposition between it and the rights of the 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 Germanic 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, s.even princes who possessed the most extensive territories, and who had obtained a 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 * Pfftffel. AnteA fcr. p, 241. STATE OF EUROPE. f levation they had not contributed by their suffrages, and came to be more apprehensive of his authority. The electors, by their extensive power, and the distinguishing- privileges which they possessed, became formidable to the emperors, with whom they were placed almost on a level in several acts of jurisdiction. 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 further augmented by the various and repugnant forms of civil policy in the several states which composed the Germanic body. It is no easy matter to render the union of independent states perfect and entire, even when the genius and forms of their respective governments happen to be altogether similar. But in the Germanic empire, which was a confederacy of princes, of ecclesiastics, and of free cities, it was impos- sible that they could incorporate thoroughly. The free cities were small republics, in which the maxims and spirit peculiar to that species of go- vernment prevailed. The princes and nobles, to whom supreme jurisdiction belonged, possessed a sort of monarchical 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 constituted, 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 governing passions of the princes and nobility. The secular and ecclesiastical members of the empire were as little fitted for union as the free cities and the nobility. Considerable territories had been granted to several of the bishoprics and abbeys, and some of the highest offices in the empire having been annexed to them inalienably, were held by the ecclesiastics raised to these dignities. The younger sons of noblemen of the second order, who had devoted themselves to the church, were commonly promoted to these stations of eminence and power ; and it was no small 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 connection with the court of Rome, rendered their character as well as their interest different from those of the other members of the Germanic body, with whom they were called to act in concert. 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 constitution. 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 electors, and other nobles of the highest rank, not only possessed sovereign jurisdiction, but governed such extensive, 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 proportion 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 defend their just privileges. The more powerful were apt to assume and to become oppressive. The electors and empe- rors, by turns, endeavoured to extend their own authority, by encroaching on those feeble members of the Germanic body, who sometimes defended their rights with much spirit, but more frequently, being overawed or cor- rupted, they tamely surrendered their privileges, or meanly favoured the designs formed against them [42]. After contemplating all these principles of disunion and opposition in V, A VIEW OF THE [Sect. III. the constitution of the German empire, it will be easy to account for tho want of concord and uniformity, conspicuous in its councils and proceed- ings. That slow, dilatory, distrustful, and irresolute spirit, which charac- ter! es all its deliberations, will appear natural in a body, the junction of ■whose members 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 V. was most intent, were often thwarted or rendered abortive by the spirit of jealousy and division peculiar to the Germanic constitution ; so it was by the influence which he acquired over the pripces of the empire, and by engaging them to co-operate 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 of Charles V. with that of the great nations in Europe, and the Ottoman Porte interposed so often, and with such decisive influence, in the wars and negotiations of the Christian princes, that some previous account of the state of government in that great empire 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 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 during several centuries, from the Caspian Sea to the straits of the Dardanelles. Towards the middle of the fifteenth century, these formidable conquerors took- Constantinople by storm, and established the seat of their government in that imperial city. Greece, Moldavia, Wala- chia, and the other provinces of the ancient kingdoms of Thrace and Macedonia, together with part of Hungary, were subjected to their power. 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 contemplating. The supreme power was vested in sultans ol the Ottoman race, that blood being deemed so sacred, 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 pre-eminence, whose con- sciousness of what is due to their rank and character, 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 intermediate 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 individual serves, that it is scarcely communicated STATE OF EUROPE. 87 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 condition 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 nothing to the former, while it gives every thing to the latter ; that it endeavours to fix in the minds of those who arc 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 [4j]. But as there are circumstances which frequently obstruct or defeat the salutary effects of the best regulated governments, there are others which contribute to mitigate the evils of the most defective forms of policy. There can, indeed, be no constitutional restraints upon the will of a prince in a despotic government ; but there may be such as are accidental. Absolute as the Turkish sultans are, they ieel themselves circumscribed both by religion, the principle on which their authority is founded,! and by the army, the instrument which they must employ in order to maintain it. Wherever religion interposes, the will of the sovereign 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 a higher authority hath established. The chief restriction, however, on the will of 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 commands. As the Turks extended their empire over nations which they did not exterminate, but reduce to subjection, they found it necessary to render their military establishment numerous and formidable. Amurath, their third sultan, in order to form a body of troops devoted to his will, that might serve as the immediate 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 [A. D. 1362]. 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 sentiment 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 pre-eminence.;}; 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 sultan [44]. Thus, as the supreme power in every society is possessed by those who have arms in their hands, this formidable body of soldiers, destined to be the instruments of enlarging the sultan's authority, acquired at the same time, the means of controlling it. The Janizaries in Constantinople, like the Prsetorian 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 became no less sensible of their influence and importance. The Capiculy, or soldiery of the Porte, was the only power in the empire that a sultan or his vizier had reason to dread. To preserve the fidelity and * Stale of the Turkish Empire by Rycaot, p. ?.". t EfCBUt, p. S. : Puiire Cnntemir'tJ History of Ihe Cthmr.n Empire, p. 37. 83 A VIEW OF THE, ice. [Sect. HI. 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 obsequious instruments ; execute whatever he enjoins ; and render his Eower irresistible. Under feeble princes, or such as are unfortunate, they ecome 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 II. who took Constantinople, to Solyman the Magnificent, who began his reign a few months after Charles V. was placed on the Imperial throne of Germany, a succession of illustrious princes ruled over the Turkish empire. By their great abilities, they kept their subjects of every order, military 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 law- giver who established order and police in their empire, 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 maintenance ; 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 con- siderable, he supplied that defect by an attentive and severe economy. Nor was it only under such sultans as Solyman, whose talents were no less adapted to preserve internal order than to conduct the operations of war, that the Turkish empire engaged with advantage in its contests with the Christian states. The long succession of able princes, which I have mentioned, had given such 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 constitution 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 military discipline. At the time when Solyman began his reign, the Janizaries had been embodied near a century 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 provinces 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 impartial authors of the sixteenth century acknowledge and lament the superior attainments of the Turks in the military art [45]. 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 establish- ment of standing 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 abolished their ancient warlike institutions among the latter. TUB HISTORY OF THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES V« BOOK I. Charles V. was born at Ghent on the twenty-fourth day of February, in the year one thousand five hundred. His father, Philip the Handsome, archduke of Austria, was the son of the emperor Maximilian, 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 for this young prince to the inheritance of more extensive dominions, than any European monarch, since 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 destined for another family, she having been contracted by her father to the only son of Louis XI. 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 posterity, he threw all the Netherlands and Franche Compte into the hands of a rival. Isabella, the daughter of John II. of Castile, far from having any prospect of that noble inheritance which she transmitted to her grandson, passed the early part of her life in obscurity and indigence. But the Castilians, exasperated against her brother Henry IV., 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 stales had acknowledged 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 Aragon to the unexpected death of his elder brother, and acquired the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily by violating 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 re- corded 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. Don John, the only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, and their eldest daughter, the queen of Portugal, being 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 Vor.. II.— 12 90 THE REIGN OF THE [Book I. expedient to invite him into Spain, that by residing among them, he might accustom himself to their laws and manners ; and it was expected 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 magnifi- cence. The archduke did homage to Louis XII. for the earldom of Flan- ders, and took his seat as a peer of the realm in the parliament of Paris. They were received in Spain with every mark of honour that the parental affection of Ferdinand and Isabella, 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 satisfaction and joy, some secret uneasiness preyed upon the mind of each of these princes. The stately and reserved ceremonial of the Spanish court was so burdensome 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, ob- serving 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 impatience 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 mother, the indifference and neglect with which the archduke treated her daughter, who was des- titute of those beauties of person, as well as those accomplishments of mind, which fix the affections of a husband. Her understanding, always weak, was often disordered. She doated on Philip with such an excess of childish and indiscreet fondness, as excited disgust rather than affection. Her jealousy, for which her husband's behaviour 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 rendered altogether deplorable, by the archduke's abrupt resolution of setting out in the middle of winter for Flanders, and of leaving her in Spain. Isabella entreated him not to abandon'his wife to grief and melancholy, 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 the pleasure of cele- brating the festival of Christmas in his company. Ferdinand, after repre- senting the imprudence 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 humanity, or the maxims of prudence, persisted in his purpose ; and on the twenty-second of December set out lor the Low Countries, by the way of France.* From the moment of his departure, Joanna sunk into a deep and sullen melancholy,! and while she was in that situation bore Ferdinand her second son, for whom the power of his brother Charles afterwards pro- cured the kingdoms of Hungary and Bohemia, and to whom he at last transmitted the imperial sceptre. Joanna 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 occupied with the thoughts * Petri MartyiiH Anglerii Epistolip. 230— 253.' * Id. Fpisf. 355, EMPEROR CHARLES V. 91 of returning to her husband ; nor did she, in any degree, recover tranquillity of mind, until she arrived at Brussels next year.* Philip, in passing through France, had an interview with Louis XII. and signed a treaty with him, by which he hoped that all the differences be- tween France and Spain would have been finally terminated. But Fer- dinand, whose affairs, at that time, were extremely prosperous in Italy, where the superior genius of Gonsalvo de Cordova, the great captain, triumphed on every occasion over the arms of France, did not pay tho least regard to what his son-in-law had concluded, and carried on hos- tilities with greater ardour than ever. From this time Philip seems not to have taken any part in the affairs of Spain, waiting in quiet till the death either of Ferdinand or 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 towards 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 on her by the Spanish historians.! A few weeks before her death, she made her last will, and being con- vinced of Joanna's incapacity to 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 Ferdinand likewise one half of the revenues which should arise from the Indies, together with the grand masterships of the three military orders -r dignities which rendered the person who possessed them almost independent, and which Isabella had, for that reason, annexed to the crown.| 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.^ Immediately upon the queen's death, Ferdinand resigned the title of king of Castile, and issued orders to proclaim Joanna and Philip the sove- reigns of that kingdom. 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 dis- covering 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 here- ditary enmity which subsisted between the natives of these kingdoms, 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 authority desirable. | Suspicious, discerning, severe, and parsimonious, he was accustomed to{ observe the minute actions of his subjects with a jealous attention, and to reward their highest services with little liberality ; and they were now deprived of Isabella, whose gentle qualities, and partiality to her Castilian * Mariana, lib. 27. c. 11. 14. Flechier Vie de Ximen. 1. 191. + P. Mart. Ep. 279. I Ibid. r.t>. 277. Mar. Hist. lil>.2J. c. 11. e'er. Hist. Gener. d'Espagne. tnin.viii. 2fiX ft Mar. Hist. lib. fX.c. 14. 52 THE REIGN OF THE Book I. subjects, often tempered his austerity, or rendered it tolerable Th#> maxims of his government were especially odious to the grandees; for that artful prince, sensible of the dangerous privileges conferred upon them by the feudal institutions, had endeavoured to curb their exorbitant power,* by extending the royal jurisdiction, by protecting their injured vassals, by increasing the immunities of cities, and by other measures equally prudent. From all these causes, a formidable party among the Castilians united against Ferdinand, 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 receiving the accounts of Isabella's death, and of Ferdinand's having assumed the government of Castile. Philip was not of a temper tamely to suffer him- self to be supplanted by the ambition of his father-in-law. If Joanna's infirmities, and the nonage of Charles, rendered them incapable of govern- ment, 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 con- tents 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 Isabella'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 expected 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 confidence ; and having been trained to business under Ferdinand, could oppose his schemes with equal abili'ies, and with arts not inferior to those for which that monarch was distinguished.! By the advice of Manuel, ambassadors were despatched to require Fer- dinand to retire into Aragon, and to resign the government of Castile to those persons whom Philip should intrust with it, until his own arrival in that kingdom. Such of the Castilian nobles as had discovered an}' dissatis- faction with Ferdinand's administration, were encouraged by every method to oppose it. At the same time a treaty was concluded with Louis XII. by which Philip flattered himself, that he had secured the friendship and assistance of that monarch. Meanwhile, Ferdinand employed all the arts of address 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 negotiation with Joanna, and prevailed on that weak princess to confirm, by her autho- rity, 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 inter- cepted ; Conchillos was thrown into a dungeon; she herself confined to an apartment in the palace, and all her Spanish domestics secluded from her presence.J The mortification which the discovery of this intrigue occasioned to Fer- dinand 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 influence : 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, arch- bishop of Toledo, the duke of Alva, and the marquis of Denia, remaining * Marian, lib. 28. c. 12. f Zurita Aniialps d«> Aragon. torn. vi. p. 19. $ P. Mart. Ep. ?8" Zuri'a Annili-fi, vi p. M. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 93 there ; while the houses of Philip's ambassadors were daily crowded with noblemen of the highest rank. Exasperated at this universal defection, and mortified perhaps with seeing all his schemes defeated by a younger politician, Ferdinand resolved, in defiance of the law of nature, and of decency, to deprive his daughter and her posterity of the crown of Castile, rather than renounce the regency of that kingdom. His plan for accomplishing this was no Jess bold, than the intention itself was wicked. He demanded in marriage Joanna, the supposed daughter of Henry IV. on the belief of whose illegitimacy Isabella's right to the crown of Castile was founded : and by reviving 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 do- minions Joanna resided at that time, having married one of Ferdinand's daughters by Isabella, refused 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 convent, discovered no less aversion to it.* The resources, however, of Ferdinand's ambition were not exhausted. Upon meeting with a repulse in Portugal, he turned towards France, and sought in marriage Germain de Foix, a daughter of the viscount of Nar- bonne, and of Mary, the sister of Louis XII. 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 maxims of interest, or become subservient to the purposes of ambition, yet so vehe- ment 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 excluding 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 consented to restore the Neapolitan nobles of the French faction to their possessions and honours ; and submitted 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 dreadlul alarm, and convinced Don John Manuel that there was now a necessity of taking other measures with regard to the affairs of Spain.J He accordingly instructed the Flemish ambassadors, in the court of Spain, to testify the strong desire which their master had of terminating all differences between him and Ferdinand in an amicable manner, and his willingness to consent to any conditions that would re-establish the friendship which ought to sub- sist between a fame* and a son-in-law. Ferdinand, though he had made and broken more treaties than 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 extremely fond of a negotiation. He listened with eagerness to these declarations, and soon concluded a treaty at Salamanca [Nov. 24] ; in which it was stipulated, that the government of Castile should be carried on in the joint 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.§ * Sandov. Hist, of Civil Wars ia Castile, Lon. ICw. p. 5. Zurita Annales de Aragon, torn. vi. p. 213. f Mart. Ep. 290. 292. Mariana, lib. 28. c. iff. 17. J P. Halt Ep. 303. « 7.u,ritr Annalcs de .Arsgon. vi. 10. P Mart. E;> 293. 294. M THE KEIGN OF THE Book I. Nothing, however, was farther from Philip's thoughts than to observe thia treaty. His sole intention in proposing it was to amuse Ferdinand, and to prevent him 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 pre- vailed on the king of France not only to remonstrate against the archduke's journey, bul 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 nume- rous fleet, and a good body of land forces, They were obliged, by a violent tempest, to take shelter in England, where Henry VII., in com- pliance with Ferdinand's solicitations, detained them upwards of three months ;* at last they were permitted to depart, and after a more pros- perous voyage, they arrived in safety at Corunna in Galicia [April 28], nor durst Ferdinand attempt, as he had once intended, to oppose their landing by force of arms. The Castilian nobles, who had been obliged hitherto to conceal or to dissemble their sentiments, now declared openly in favour of Philip. From every corner of the kingdom, persons of the highest rank, with numerous retinues of their vassals, repaired to their new' sovereign. The treaty of Salamanca'was universally 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, meanwhile, abandoned by almost all the Cas- tilians, disconcerted by their revolt, and uncertain whether he should peaceably relinquish his power, or take arms in order to maintain it, ear- nestly 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, Ferdinand consented, by treaty, to resign the regency of Castile into the hands of Philip [June 27],' to retire into his hereditary dominions of Aragon, and to jest satisfied with the masterships of the military orders, and that 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 Castilian 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 dis- playing before the monarch, whom he had deserted, the extensive influence which he had acquired over his new master: while Ferdinand suffered, ill presence of his former subjects, the two most cruel mortifications which an arttul and ambitious prince can feel ; being at once overreached in con- duct, and stripped of power.t Not long alter [July], he retired into Aragon ; and hoping that some favourable accident would soon open the way for his return into Castile, he took care to protest, though with great secrecy, that the treaty con- cluded with his son-in-law, being extorted by force, ought to be deemed void of all obligation. | Philip took possession of his new authority with a youthful joy. The unhappy Joanna, from whom he derived it, remained, during all these contests, under the dominion of a deep melancholy ; she was seldom allowed to appear in public ; her father, though he had 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 * ferter. Hist. Viil. 285. t Zurita Annates de Aiag. vi. 64. Mar. lib. 28. c. 10,20. P. Atnrfc J .p. 304. 305, &c. } Zurita. Annates . 531- Ar^frisola-Aunn!-- ,H.- dragon, lib i.ri. * Vor.. IT— 13 V8 T H E R E I G N O F T H E I Boor f . Ferdinand received the intimation with a decent fortitude, and touched, perhaps, with compunction at the injustice which he had done his grandson, or influenced by the honest remonstrances of Carvajal, Zapata, 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 bestowing on him the grand master- ship of the military orders, would strip the crown of its noblest ornament and chief strength, he consented to alter his will with respect to both these particulars. By a new deed he left Charles the sole heir of all his do- minions, and allotted to prince Ferdinand, instead of that throne of which he thought himself almost secure, an inconsiderable establishment ot fifty thousand ducats a year.* He died a few hours after signing this will, on the twenty-third day of January, one thousand five hundred and sixteen. 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 Coun- tries, his paternal dominions. Margaret of Austria, his aunt, and Margaret of York, the sister of Edward IV. of England, 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 Flemings committed the government of the Low Countries to his grandfather, the emperor Maximilian, with the name rather than the authority of regent, f Maxi- milian made choice of William de Croy lord of Chievres to superintend the education of the young prince his grandson.j That nobleman pos- sessed, in an eminent degree, the talents which fitted him for such an im- portant 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 coun- trymen entertained of his learning. He was indeed no inconsiderable proficient in those frivolous sciences, which, during several centuries, assumed the name of philosophy, and had published a commentary, which was highly esteemed, upon The Book of Sentences, a famous treatise of Petrus Lombardus, considered at that time as the standard system of me- taphysical theology. But whatever admiration these procured him in an * Mar. Hist. lib. 30. c. ult. Zurita Annalcs de Arag. vi. 401. P. Mart. Ep. 565, 566. Argensola Annalesde Arag. lib. i. p. 11. t Pontius Heuterus, Rcrum Austriacarum, lib. xv. Lov. 1649. lib. vii. c. 2. p. 155. } The French historians, upon the authority of M. de Bellay, Mem. p. 11. have unanimously as- serted, that Philip, by his last will, having appointed the king of France to have the direction of his son's education, Louis XII. with a disinterestedness suitable to the confidence reposed in him, named Chievres for that office. Even the president Henaut has adopted this opinion. Abrege Chroh. A. D. 1507. Varillas, in his usual manner, pretends to have seen Philip's testament. Prac. del'Education des Princes, p. 16. But the Spanish, German, and Flemish historians concur in con tradicting this assertion of the French authors. It appears from Heuterus, a contemporary Fleravfrt historian of great authority, that Louis XII. by consenting to the marriage ol'Germainede Fnrx with Ferdinand, had lost much of that confidence which Philip once placed in him . that this disgust was increased by the French king's giving in marriage to the count of Angouleme his eldest daughter, "/horn he had formerly betrothed to Charles, Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. v. 151 : That the French, a short time before Philip'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 Philip, who made his will a few days before he died, Heuter. p. 152, should commit the education of bis BOO to Louis XII In confirmation of these plau- sible conjectures, positive testimony can he produced. It appears from Heuterus, that Philip, when he set out for Spain, had intrusted Chievres botli 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 attempt waj made, soon after Philip's death, to have the emperor Maximilian appointed regent, during the mino- rity of his grandson ; but this being opposed, Chievres seems to have continued to discharge both the Office! which Pliilip had committed to him. Heut. ibid. 153—155. That in the beginning of the year 1508, the Flemings invited Maximilian to accept of the reeency ; to which he consented, and ap- pointed his daughter, Margaret, together with a council of Flemings, to exercise the supreme autho- rity, when he himself should at any time be absent. He likewise named Chievres as governor, and Adrian Utrecht as preceptor to his son. Heut. ibid. 155—157. What Heuterus relates with respect to this matter is confirmed bv Moringus in Vita Adriani apud Analecta Casp. Rurmanni de Adriano, cap. 10; by Barlandus Chronic. Prabant. ibid. p. 25: and by Harieus Annal. Brab vol 'i. 530, &.C. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 99- illiterate 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 hy no means qualified for rendering science agree- able to a young prince. Charles, accordingly, discovered an early aversion to learning, and an excessive fondness for those violent and martial exer- cises, to excel in which was the chief pride, and almost the only study, of persons of rank in that age.. Chievres encouraged this taste, either from a desire of gaining his pupil by indulgence, or from too slight an opinion of the advantages of literary accomplishments.* He instructed him, how- ever, with great care in the arts of government ; he made him study the history not only of his own kingdoms, but of those with which they were connected ;" he accustomed him, from the time of his assuming the govern- ment of Flanders in the year one thousand five hundred and fifteen, to attend to business ; he persuaded- him to peruse all papers relating h > public affairs ; to be present at the deliberations of his privy-counsellors, and to propose to them himself those matters, concerning which he re- quired their opinion.! From such an education, Charles contracted habits of gravity and recollection which scarcely suited his time of life. The first openings of his genius did not indicate that superiority which its ma- turer age displayed.^ He did not discover in his youth the impetuosity of spirit which commonly ushers in an active and enterprising manhood. Nor did his early obsequiousness to Chievres, and his other favourites, promise that capacious and decisive judgment, which afterwards directed the affairs of one half of Europe. But his subjects, dazzled with the ex- ternal accomplishments of a graceful figure and manly address, and viewing his character with that partiality which is always shown to princes during their youth, entertained sanguine hopes of his adding lustre to those crowns which descended to him by the death of Ferdinand. The kingdoms of Spain, as is evident from the view which I have given of their political constitution, were at that time in a situation which, je quired an administration no less vigorous than prudent. The feudal institutions, which had been introduced into all its different provinces by the Goths, the Suevi, and the Vandals, subsisted in great force. The nobles, who were powerful and warlike, had long possessed all the ex- orbitant privileges which these institutions vested in their order. The cities in Spain were more numerous and more considerable, than the genius of feudal government, naturally unfavourable to commerce and to regular police, seemed to admit. The personal rights, and political influence, which the inhabitants of these cities had acquired, were extensive. The royal prerogative, circumscribed 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 inconveniences occasioned by the defects in the feudal system, but was exposed to disorders arising from the peculiarities in its own con- stitution. During the long administration of Ferdinand, no internal commotion, it is true, had arisen in Spain. His superior abilities had enabled him to restrain the turbulence ot the nobles, and to moderate the jealousy of the commons. By the wisdom of his domestic government, by the sagacity with which he conducted his foreign operations, and by the high opinion which 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 * Jovii Vita Adriani, p. 91. Struvii Corpus Hist. CJorm. if. 'JIV7. I*. itputer. Rer. Austr lih. vii <- 3 p. 157. t Memoires d«- Pf i!sv, Svo. Tar. 157;t. p 1 1 P. Heater, lib. viiL c. i rj ;-; IT Martvr,Ep. 569-«*5 iou THE REIGN OF THE [Book L the death of Ferdinand, these restraints were at once withdrawn ; and faction and discontent, from being long repressed,' were ready to break out with fiercer animosity. In order to prevent these evils, Ferdinand had in his last will taken a most prudent precaution, by appointing cardinal Ximenes, archbishop of Toledo, to be sole regent of Castile, until the arrival of his grandson in Spain. The singular character of this man, and the extraordinary quali- ties which marked him out for that office at such a juncture, merit a par- ticular description. He was descended of an honourable, not of a wealthy family ; and the circumstances of his parents, as well as his own inclina- tions, having determined him to enter 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 under- going a very severe noviciate, assumed the habit of St. Francis in a monastery of Observantine friars, one of the most rigid orders in the Ro- mish church. There he soon became eminent for his uncommon austerity of manners, and for those excesses of superstitious devotion, which are the proper characteristics of the monastic life. But notwithstanding these extravagances, to which weak and enthusiastic minds alone are usually prone, his understanding, naturally penetrating and decisive, retained its full vigour, and acquired him such ^reat authority in his own order, as raised him to be their provincial. His reputation for sanctity soon pro- cured him the office of father-confessor to queen Isabella, which he accept- ed with the utmost reluctance. He preservec] in a court the same auste- rity of manners which had distinguished 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. Isa- bella, 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 authoritative injunction of the pope was able to overcome. Nor did this height of promotion change his manners. Though obliged to display in public that magnificence which became his station, he him- self* retained his monastic severity. Under his pontifical robes he con- stantly wore the coarse frock of St. Francis, the rents in which he used to patch with his own hands. He at no time used linen ; but was com- monly clad in hair-cloth. He slept always in his habit, most frequently on the ground, or on boards, rarely in a bed. He did not taste any of the delicacies which appeared at his table, but satisfied himself with that sim- ple diet which the rule of his order prescribed.* Notwithstanding these peculiarities, so opposite to the manners of the world, he possessed a tho- rough knowledge 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 business, 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 pur- sued these with unremitting and undaunted firmness. Accustomed from his early youth to mortify his own passions, he showed little indulgence towards those of other men. Taught by his system of religion to check even his most innocent 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 discovered, in all his commerce with the world, a severe inflexibility of mind, and austerity of character, peculiar to the * Histnir« do Vadministratioi' du Card. Ximen. par Midi. Paudior. 4to 1639. t>. 12 EMPEROR CHARLES V. iui monastic profession, and which can hardly be conceived in a country where that is unknown. Such was the man to whom Ferdinand committed the regency of Cas- tile ; and though Ximenes was then near fourscore, and perfectly acquaint- ed with the labour and difficulty of the office, his natural intrepidity of mind, and zeal for the public good, prompted him to accept of it without hesitation. Adrian of Utrecht, who nad been sent into Spain a few months before the death of Ferdinand, produced full powers from the archduke to assume the name and authority of regent, upon the demise of his grand- father ; but such was the aversion of the Spaniards to the government of a stranger, and so unequal the abilities of the two competitors, that Adrian's claim would at once have been rejected, if Ximenes himself, from com- plaisance to his new master, had not consented to acknowledge him as regent, 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 great decency, and even respect, retained the whole power in his own hands.* The cardinal's first care was to observe the motions of the infant Don Ferdinand, who, having been flattered with so near a prospect of supreme power, bore the 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, wras watched with the utmost attention.! 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 conduct 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 Ferdinand's death reach Brussels, than Charles, by the advice of his Flemish ministers, resolved to assume the title of king. By the laws of Spain, the sole right to the crowns, both of Castile and Aragon, belonged to Joanna ; and though her infirmities disqualified her 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 unnatural usurpation in a son on the prerogatives of a mother, towards whom, in her present unhappy situation, 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 pre- tended, 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 unnecessary, resolved to exert all his authority and credit in carrying it into execution, and immediately assembled such of the nobles as were then at court. What Charles required was laid before them ; and when, instead of com- plying with his demands, they began to murmur against such an unprece- dented encroachment on their privileges, and to talk high of the rights of Joanna, and their oath of allegiance to her, Ximenes hastily interposed, and with that firm and decisive tone which was natural to him, told them that they were not called now to deliberate, but to obey ; that their sove- reign did not apply to them for advice, but expected submission ; and * Gometius dp reb. gest. Ximenii, p. 150. fol. Compl. 1569; i. c. 2. Randier Hist Ho Xijiienm. p. .118. } 1' Marl Ep. 50B. t Mimana Pontin. MeriarjcR, lib. i0> THE REIGN OF TUB [Book I. '• this da)'," 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* [April 13] ; and, notwith- standing the novelty of the practice, and the secret discontents of many persons of distinction, Charles's title was universally recognised. In Ara- gon, where the privileges of the subject were more extensive, and the abilities as well as authority of the archbishop of Saragossa, whom Fer- dinand had appointed regent, were far inferior to those of Ximenes, the same obsequiousness 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. | Ximenes, though possessed only of delegated power, which from his advanced age he could not expect to enjoy long, assumed, together with the character of regent, 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 Castilian nobles circumscribed the prerogative of the prince within very narrow limits. These privileges the cardinal considered as so many unjust extor- tions 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 furnished him with more ready money than the crown could at any time command ; the sanctity of his manners, his charity and munificence, rendered him the idol of the people ; and the nobles themselves, not suspecting any danger from him, did not observe his motions with the same jealous attention, as they would have watched those of one of their monarchs. Immediately upon his accession to the regency, several of the nobles fancy- ing 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 authority of Ferdinand had obliged them to dissemble, or 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 forcecLfbem to acts of submission, extremely mortifying to the haughty spirit of Castilian grandees. But while the cardinal's attacks were confined to individuals, and every act of rigour was justified by the appearance of necessity, founded on the forms of justice, and tempered with a mixture of lenity, there was 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, depended 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 accus- tomed to*©bey no other commands, his authority 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 govern- ment, 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 ot arms on Sundays and holy days ; he engaged to provide officers to command » t"iom«liue. p. 132. &c Bauiiier Hist. <}e Ximen. J>- !-'• + p Mart Ep. 572, EMPEROR CHARLES V. H)3 them at the public expense ; and, as an encouragement to the private men, promised them an exemption from all tares 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 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.* 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 appear- ance 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 interested motives, they endeavoured to excite the cities themselves to refuse obedience, and to inveigh against the proclama- tion 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 themselves their protectors. Violent remonstrances were presented to the king. His Flemish coun- sellors were alarmed. Ximenes alone continued firm and undaunted ; and partly by terror, partly by entreaty ; by force in some instances, and by forbearance in others ; he prevailed on all the refractory cities to comply.! During his administration, he continued to execute his plan with vigour ; but soon after his death it was entirely dropped. His success in this scheme for reducing the exorbitant power of the nobility, encouraged him to attempt a diminution of their possessions, which were no less exorbitant. During the contests and disorders inseparable 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 their own estates. The titles, by which most of the grandees held these lands, were extremely defective ; it was from some successful usurpation, which the crown had been too feeble to dispute, that many derived their only claim to possession. An inquiry carried back to the origin of these encroachments, which were almost coeval with the feudal system, was impracticable ; and as it WQuld 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 himself 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 alienated. 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 faction 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 economy, enabled Ximenes not only to discharge all the debts which Ferdinand had left, and to remit considerable 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.J The prudent * Mintana: Continuatio Marianie, fol. Hag. 1733. p. 3. ] P. Mart. Ep. 5GG, tec. (iometius, p. J60. At. I Flerhior Vie de Ximci. v. 600. 104 THE REIGN OF THE [Book 1. and disinterested application 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, began to think of pre- cautions for the safety of their o/der. Many cabals were formed, loud complaints were uttered, and desperate resolutions taken ; but before they proceeded to extremities, they appointed some of their number to examine the powers in consequence of which the cardinal exercised acts of such high authority. The admiral of Castile, the duke de Infantado, and the Conde de Beneyento, grandees of the first rank, were intrusted with this commission. Ximenes received them with coid civility, and in answer to their demand, produced the testament of Ferdinand by which he was appointed regent, together with the ratification of that deed by Charles. To both 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 prepared for his defence, was what despair alone would dictate. All thoughts of a general confederacy against the cardinal's administration were laid aside ; and except from some slight commotions, excited by the private resentment of particular noblemen, the tranquillity of Castile suffered no interruption. It was not only from the opposition of the Spanish nobility that obstacles arose to the execution of the cardinal's schemes ; he had a constant strug- gle to maintain with the Flemish ministers, who, presuming upon their favour with the young king, aimed at directing the affairs of Spain, as well as those of their own country. Jealous of the great abilities and indepen- dent 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 yvas adding 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 hjm of the office of regent, they endeavoured to lessen his authority by dividing it. They soon discovered that Adrian of Utrecht, already joined with him in office, had neither genius nor spirit sufficient to give the least check to his proceedings ; and therefore Charles, by their advice, added to the commission of regency La Chau, a Flemish gentleman, and afterwards Amerstorf, a nobleman of Holland ; the former distinguished for his address, the latter for his firm- ness. 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, more averse, perhaps, than any other people, to the government of strangers, approved of all his efforts to pre- serve his own authority. Even the nobles, influenced by this national passion, and forgetting their jealousies and discontents, chose rather to see the supreme 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 domestic policy Flcch. ii. 551. Feneras, Hist. vlli. 488, EMPEROR OHARLE'S V. 105 and embarrassed by the artifices and intrigues of the Flemish ministers, had the burden of two foreign wars to support. The one was in Navarre, which was invaded by its unfortunate monarch John d'Albret. The death of Ferdinand, the absence of Charles, the discord and disaffection which reigned among the Spanish nobles, seemed to present him with a favoura- ble opportunity of recovering his dominions. The cardinal's vigilance, however, defeated a measure so well concerted. As he foresaw the dan- ger 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 bis army in the siege of St. Jean Pied en Port, Villalva, an officer of great experience and courage, attacked the other by surprise, and cut it to pieces. The king instantly retreated with precipitation, and an end was put to the war.* But as Navarre was filled at that time with towns and castles slightly fortified, and weakly farrisoned, which being unable to resist an enemy, served only to furnish im with places of retreat ; Ximenes, always bold and decisive in his measures, ordered every one of these to be dismantled, 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 inconveniences attending an invading army, the Spaniards have easily drawn troops from the neigh- bouring provinces to oppose them ; ana 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. The other war which he carried on in Africa, against the famous adven- turer Horuc Barbarossa, who, from a private corsair, raised himself, by his singular valour and address, to be king of Algiers and Tunis, was far from being equally successful. The ill conduct of the Spanish general, and the rash valour of his troops, presented Barbarossa with an easy vic- tory. 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.! 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 of the Flemish court proved the cause of constant uneasiness, not only to the cardinal, but to the whole Spanish nation. All the great qualities of Chievres, the prime minister and favourite of the young king, 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 prefer- ment ; 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 things 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.* The Spaniards were filled with rage when they beheld offices of great importance to the welfare of their country, set to sail by strangers, unconcerned for its honour or its happiness. Ximenes, disinterested in his whole administration, and a stranger, from his native grandeur of mind, to the passion of avarice, inveighed wiih the utmost boldness against the venality of the Flemings. * P. Marl. Ep. 570. f Gometius, lib. vi. p. 179. * Miniana, dntin. I. i. c 2. Vol. II.— 1 4 106 THE REIGN OF THE [Book I. He represented to the king, in strong; terms, the murmurs and indignation which their behaviour excited among a free and high spirited people, and besought him to set out without loss of time for Spain, that, by his pre- sence, he might dissipate the clouds which were gathering all over the kingdom.* Charles was fully sensible that he had delayed too long to take posses- sion of his dominions in Spain. Powerful obstacles, however, stood in his way, and detained 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 kingdoms, 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 Flemings, 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, sagacious 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 I. desti- tute of allies, and solicitous to secure his late conquests in Italy by a treaty, listened with joy to the first overtures of accommodation. Chievres himself conducted the negotiation in the name of Charles. Gouffier appeared as plenipotentiary 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 monarchs 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 conferences at Noyon, they concluded a treaty of confederacy 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 pretensions upon the kingdom of Naples ; that, in consideration of Charles's being already in possession of Naples, he should, -until the ac- complishment of the marriage, pay a hundred thousand crowns a-year to the French king ; and the half of that sum annually as long as the princess bad no children ; that when Charles shall arrive in Spain, the heirs of the king of Navarre may represent to him their right to that kingdom ; and if, after examining; their claim, he does not give them satisfaction, Francis shall be at liberty to assist them with all his forces.t 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 en- joyed a few years of universal tranquillity, and was indebted for that blessing to two princes, whose rivalship ana ambition kept it in perpetual discord and agitation during the remainder of their reigns. By the treaty of Noyon, Charles secured a safe passage into Spain. It was not, however, the interest of his Flemish ministers, that he should visit that kingdom soon. While he resided in Flanders, the revenues of the Spanish crown were spent there, and they engrossed, without any competitors, all the effects of their monarch's generosity ; their country * P. Mart. Kp. 576. f T.rnnard Rerupil d»p Traitfz. fom. ri. 09 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 107 became the seat of government, and all favours were dispensed by them. Of all these advantages they run 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 mo- narchy ; and they who now distributed 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 interview between tin? 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 tho other hand, if Charles should allow his Flemish favourites to retain all the influence over his councils which they at present possessed, 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 deDarture ; and Charles, unsuspicious, from want of experience, and fond of his native country, suffered himself to be un- necessarily detained in the Netherlands a whole year after signing the treaty of Noyon. The repeated entreaties of Ximenes, the advice of his grandfather Maximilian, and the impatient murmurs of his Spanish subjects, prevailed on him at last to embark. He was attended not only by Chievres, his prime 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, in the province of Asturias [Sept. 13], 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 as the greatest blessing to his dominions, was advancing towards the coast, as fast as tho infirm state of his health would permit, in order to receive him. During his regency, and notwithstanding his extreme old age, he had abated, in no degree, the rigour or frequency of his mortifications ; and to these he added such laborious assiduity in business, as would have worn out the most youthful and vigorous constitution. Every day he employed several hours in devotion ; he celebrated mass in person ; he even allotted some space for study. Notwithstanding these occupations, he regularly attended the council ; he received and read all papers presented to him ; he dictated letters and instructions ; 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 scholastic theology. Wasted by such a course of life, the infirmities of age daily grew upon him. On his journey, a violent disorder seized him at Bos Equillos, attended with uncommon symptoms, which his followers considered as the effect of poison,! but could not agree whether the rrime ought to be imputed to the hatred of the Spanish nobles, or to thp « P. Mart. Ep. 599. 601. ' Miniona. Cnntin. lib. i. o 3 108 THE REIGN OF THE [Book 1. malice of the Flemish courtiers. This accident obliged him to stop short, he wrote to Charles, and with his usual boldness 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 Spanish grandees, employed all their address, and in- dustriously kept Charlfes at a distance from Aranda, the place to which the cardinal had removed. 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 delivered 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 indig- nation and complaints. He lamented the fate of his country, and foretold the calamities which it would suffer from the insolence, the rapaciousness, and ignorance of strangers. While his mind was agitated by these passions, he received a letter from the king, in which, after a few cold and formal expressions of regard, he was allowed to retire to his diocess ; that after a life of such continued labour, he might end his days in tran- quillity. This message proved fatal to Ximenes. His haughty mind, it is probable, could not survive disgrace ; 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 letter* [Nov. 8]. The variety, the gran- deur, and the success of his schemes, during a regency of only twenty months, leave it doubtful, whether his sagacity in council, his prudence 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 con- temporaries reverenced as a saint,! and to whom the people under his government ascribed the power of working miracles. Soon after the death of Ximenes, Charles made his public entry, with great pomp, into Valladolid, whither he had summoned the Cortes of Castile. Though he assumed on all occasions the name of king, that title had never been acknowledged in the Cortes. The Spaniards considered Joanna as possessed of the sole right to the crown, and no example ot 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 assemblies. 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 conjunction with his mother, whose name they appointed to be placed before that of her son in all public acts. But when they made this concession, they declared, that if, at any future period, Joanna should recover the exercise of reason, the whole royal 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.^ * MareolKer, Vie de Ximenes, p. 447. Gonierius, lib. vii. 206, &c. Baudier, Hist, de Ximen. p. 208. t Flechier, Vie de Ximen. ii. p. 74fi. * Miniana. Contin. lib ). r. 3. P. Mart. Ep. 608. Sandov. p. 12. EMPEROR CHARLES \. 109 Notwithstanding this obsequiousness of the Cortes to the will of the king, the most violent symptoms of dissatisfaction with his government began to break out in the kingdom. Chievres 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 delivered 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 government would never be far superior to hers ; and though they who had the best opportunity of judging concerning his character, maintained, that notwithstanding such unpromising appearances, he possessed a large fund of knowledge, as well as of sagacity ;* yet all agreed in condemning his partiality towards the Flemings, and his attach- ment to his favourites, as unreasonable and immoderate. Unfortunately for Charles, these favourites were unworthy of his confidence. To amass wealth seems to have been their only aim : and as they had reason to fear, that either their master's good sense, or the indignation of the Spaniards, might soon abridge their power, they hastened to improve the present opportunity, and their avarice was the more rapacious, 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 exaggera- tion, but Peter Martyr Angleria, 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, gives a description which is almost incredible, of the insatiable and shameless covetousness of the Flemings. According to Angleria's calculation, which he asserts to be extremely moderate, they remitted into the Low -Countries, in the space of ten months, no less a sum than a million and one hundred thousand ducats. The nomination 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 exclaiming against it.t Charles leaving Castile thus disgusted with his administration, set out for Saragossa, the capital of Aragon, that he might be present in the Cortes of that kingdom. On his way thither, he took leave of his brother Ferdinand, whom he sent to Germany on the pretence of visiting their grandfather, Maximilian, in his old age. To this prudent precaution, Charles owed the preservation of the 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 counsellors, that might have prompted him to accept of the offer.J The Aragonese had not hitherto acknowledged Charles as king, nor * Sandoval, p. 31. V. Mart. Ep. 655. 1 Sandoval, 98—31. P. Mart. Ep. 008. Oil. 013, 014. r.K. 623. 039. Miuiana.Contin.lil). t. c.3. p.8. $ P. Hart. Ep. 619. Ferreras, yiii. 460, 140 THE RElUft OF THE [Book I. would they allow the Cortes to be assembled in his name, but in that of the Justiza, to 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 Cas- tile ; after long delays, however, and with much difficulty, he persuaded 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 Aragonese exacted of their kings, never to violate any of their rights or liberties. When a donative was demanded, the members were still more intractable ; many months elapsed before they would agree to grant Charles two hundred thousand ducats, and that sum they appropriated so strictly for paying the debts of the crown, which had long been forgotten, that a very small part of it came into the king's hands. What had hap- pened in Castile taught them caution, and determined 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.f During these proceedings of the Cortes, ambassadors arrived at Saragossa from Francis I. and the young king of Navarre, demanding the restitution of that kingdom in terms ofthe treaty of Noyon. But neither Charles, nor the Castilian nobles whom he consulted 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 alto- gether fruitless ; while the French urged the injustice of the usurpation, the Spaniards were attentive only to its importance.J From Aragon Charles proceeded to Catalonia, where he wasted as much time, encountered more difficulties, and gained less money. The Flemings were now become 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 conducted their deliberations. The Castilians, who had felt most sensibly the weight and rigour of the oppressive schemes carried on by the Flemings, resolved no longer to submit with a tameness fatal to themselves, and which rendered them the objects of scorn to their fellow-subjects in the other kingdoms, of which the Spanish monarchy was composed. Segovia, Toledo, Seville, and several other cities ol 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 became their order, .the confederates laid before the king a full view of the state of the kingdom, and of the maladministra- tion 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 redress with that bold- ness which is natural to a free people. These remonstrances, presented at first at Saragossa, 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 convul- sions 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 [Jan. 12] ; an occurrence of small importance in itself, for he was a prince conspicuous neither for his virtues, nor his * P. Mart. Ep. COS. t Ibid. Ep. 615—634. t Ibid. Er>. 605. 633. 640. ft Ibid. Bp. 680 Ferreras. •> iii. 464. EMPEROR CHARLES V. Ill power, nor his abilities ; but rendered by its consequences more memora- ble than any that had happened during several ages. It broke that pro- found and universal peace which then reigned in the Christian world ; it excited a rivalship between two princes, which threw all Europe into agi- tation, 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 VIII. into Italy, had inspired 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 numerous ; its Jurisdiction over others was extensive ; and though the former had been almost aban- doned, and the latter seldom exercised, under princes of slender abilities and of little influence, it was obvious, that in the hands ot an emperor pos- sessed of power or of genius, they might be employed as engines for stretching his dominion over the greater part of that country. Even Maxi- milian, feeble and unsteady as his conduct always was, had availed him- self of the infinite pretensions of the empire, and had reaped advantage from 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 exerted 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 discovered great solicitude to preserve this dignity in the Austrian family, and to procure the king of Spain to be chosen his successor. But he himself having never been crowned by the pope, a ceremony deemed essential in that age, was con- sidered only as emperor elect. Though historians have not attended to that distinction, neither the Italian nor German chancery bestowed any other title upon him than that of king of the Romans ; 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 unwil- ling to confer upon Charles an office for which their constitution knew no name, obstinately refused to gratify Maximilian in that point.* By his death, this difficulty was at once removed, and Charles openly aspired to that dignity which his grandfather had attempted, without suc- cess, to secure for him. At the same time Francis I., a powerful 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 candi- dates, than from the importance of the prize for which they contended. Each of them urged his pretensions with sanguine expectations, and with no unpromising prospect of success. Charles considered the Imperial crown as belonging to hrm of right, from its long continuance in the Aus- trian line ; he knew that none of the German princes possessed power or influence enough to appear as his antagonist ; he flattered himself that no consideration 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 I., the sovereign of a people whose genius, and laws, and manners, differed so widely from those of the Germans, that it was hardly fiossible to establish any cordial union between them ; he trusted not a ittle to the effect of Maximilian's negotiations, which, though they did not attain their end, had prepared the minds of the Germans for his elevation to the Imperial throne ; but what he relied on as a chief recommendation, was the fortunate situation of hie hereditary dominions in Germany, which served as a natural barrier to the empire against the encroachments of the * Guicciardini, lib. xiii. p. 15. Hist. Gener. d'AUenagne, par P. Bacre, torn. viii. pari t. p. 1087, T. Heuter. Rer. Auetr. lib. vii. o. 17. p, 179. lib. viii. c. '-'. p. W&. 112 THE REIGN OF THE [Rook I. Turkish power. The conquests, the abilities, and the ambition of Sultan Selim II. bad 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 em- pire, 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 stopping 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 sup- ported his claim ; and to men of integrity and reflection, they appeared to be not only plausible but convincing. He did not, however, trust the suc- cess of his cause to these alone. Great sums of money were remitted lrom Spain ; all the refinements and artifice of negotiation were employed ; 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 scrupulous were answered or eluded ; some feeble princes were threatened and overawed.* On the other hand, Francis supported his claim with equal eagerness, and no less confidence of its being well founded. His emissaries con- tended 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 honour which their arrogance had accus- tomed them to regard as the property of their family ; that it required a sovereign of mature judgment, and of approved abilities, to hold the reins of government in a country where such unknown opinions concerning reli- gion had been published, as had thrown the minds of men into an uncom- mon 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 victory ; whereas a king who in his early youth had triumphed over the valour and discipline ot 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 discipline and stability of the German infantry, would form an army so irresistible, that, instead of waiting the approach of the Otto- man forces* it might carry hostilities into the heart of their dominions ; that the election of Charles would be inconsistent with the fundamental constitution, by which the person who holds the crown of Naples is ex- cluded from aspiring to the Imperial dignity ; that his elevation to that honour would soon kindle a war in Italy, on account of his pretensions to the duchy of Milan, the effects of which conld not fail of reaching the empire, and might prove fatal to it.| 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, endea- voured to overcome these, and to gain the favour of the princes by im- mense gifts, and by infinite promises. As the expeditious 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 * Guicc. lib. 13. 150. Sleidan, Hist, of the Reformat.. 14. Struvii Corp. Hist. Herman, ii. 971. Not. 'it). to nice. lib. 13. ltio. Sieid, p. 10. Geor.Sabmide Elect. Car. V. fflnoria spud Sr.ardii Script Rw. German, vol. ii. p. t. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 113 lor that prince by whom they were employed, and infamous tor those to whom they were sent.* The other European princes could not remain indifferent 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 combina- tion, 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 dangerous lo the liberties of Europe. But the ideas with respect 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 suf- ficient attention. The passions of some princes, the want of foresight in others, and the fear of giving offence to the 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 themselves with vigour in its behalf. The Swiss Cantons, though they dreaded the elevation of either of the contending monarchs, and though 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.! The Venetians easily discerned, that it was the interest of their republic to have both the rivals set aside ; but their jealousy of the house of Austria, whose ambition and neighbourhood had been fatal to their grandeur, 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 VIlI. of England, to prevent either 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 attention, the accurate discernment, nor the dispassionate temper which that delicate function required. On this occasion, it mor- tified his vanity so much, to think that he had not entered early into that noble competition which reflected such honour upon the two antago- nists, 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 nuncio, informed his master, that he could hope foT no success in a claim which he had been so late in preferring. Henry, imputing his disappointment to that circumstance alone, and soothed with this ostentatious 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.J Leo X., a pontiff no less renowned for his political 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 attention, or who discovered a proper solicitude for the public safety. The imperial and papal juris- diction interfered in so many instances, the complaints of usurpation were so numerous on both sides, and the territories 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 dominions, 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 master of the new world ; nor was he less afraid of seeing a king of France, who was the duke of Milan and lord of Genoa, exalted to that dignity. He foretold that the * Mtemofrea . S.- } If emoiiei da Fletiranaes. 31 4 Herbert, Hi8t. of Henry VI ft x ,'i. B.-.-15 114 THE REIGN OF THE [Book!. election of either of them would be fatal to the independence 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 ever excluded from that dignity.* He warmly exhorted the French king to persist in his claim, not from any desire that he should gain his end, but as lie 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 interest in raising some third person to the head ot 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 mutual jealousy of the two rivals might be so dexterous y 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, was executed with little discretion. The French ambassadors in Germany fed their master with vain hopes ; the pope's nuncio, being gained by them, alto- gether forgot the instructions which he had received; and Francis per- severed so long and with such obstinacy in urging his own pietensions, as rendered all Leo's measures abortive.! Such were the hopes of the candidates, and the views of the different princes, when the diet was opened according to form at Frankfort [June 17]. The right of choosing an emperor had long been vested in seven great princes, distinguished by the name of electors, the origin 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, archbishop of Mentz ; Herman count cte Wied, archbishop of Cologne ; Richard de Grieffenklau, archbishop of Triers ; Lewis, king of Bohemia ; Lewis, count palatine of the Rhine ; Frederic, duke of Saxony ; and Joachim I. marquis of Brandenburgh. Notwithstanding the artful arguments produced by the ambassadors of the two kings in favour of their respective 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 constitution was thought to be founded, \mong the members of the Germanic body, which is a great republic composed of states almost independent, the first principle of patriotism is to depress and limit the power of the emperor; and ol this idea, so natural under such a form of government, a German politician seldom loses sight. No prince of considerable j>ower, or exten- sive 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 a head ; and would have reduced themselves from the rank of being almost his equals, to the condition of his subjects. Full of these ideas, all the electors turned their eyes towards Frederic, duke of Saxony, a prince of such 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 deliberating upon the matter a short time, he rejected it with a * Goldasti Coiwtiturtones Imperiales. Francof. 1673. vol. i. 439. * Guieetwr, lib. 13. 161 \ EMPEROR CHARLES V. 115 magnanimity and disinterestedness no less singular 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 ot tranquillity (said he) we wish for an emperor who has not power to invade our liberties.; times of danger demand one who is able to secure our safety. The Turkish armies, led by a gallant and victorious monarch, are now assembling. They are ready to pour in upon Germany with a violence unknown in former ages. New conjunctures call for new expedients. The Imperial sceptre must, be com- mitted to some hand more powerful than mine, or that of any other German prince. We possess neither dominions, nor revenues, nor authority, which enables us to encounter such a formidable enemy. Recourse must be hadf in this exigency, to one of the rival monarchs. 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 hiiu the Imperial crown." This opinion, dictated by such uncommon generosity, 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 considerable sum of money as the first token of that prince's gratitude. But he who had greatness of mind to refuse a crown, disdained to receive a bribe; and, upon their entreating tbat at least he would permit them to distribute part of that sum among his attendants, he replied, That he could not prevent them from accepting what should be offered, but whoever took a single florin should be dis- missed next morning from his service.* No prince in Germany could now aspire to a dignity, which Frederic had declined, for reasons applicable to them all. It remained to make a choice between the two great competitors. But besides the prejudice in Charles's favour arising from his birth, as well as the situation of his German 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 acquainted with the art of managing the Germans ; and the latter, having been disappointed of a car- dinal'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 Spanish party among the electors daily gained ground ; and even the pope's nuncio, being convinced that it was vain to make any further opposition, endeavoured to acquire some merit with the future emperor, by offering voluntarily, in the name of his master, a dispensation !o hold the Imperial crown in conjunction with that of Naples.! * P. Daniel, an historian of cons.derable 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 Election and Coronation of Charles V. torn. iii. p. 63. But no great stress ought to be laid on an omission in a superficial author, whose treatise, though dignified with the name of History, contains only such an account of the ceremonial of Charles's election, as is usually published in Germany on like occasions. Scard. Rer Germ. Script, v. ii. p. 1. The testi- mony of Erasmus, lib. 13. epist. 4. and that of Sleiden, p. 18. are express. Scckendorf, in his Commentarius Historicus et Apologeticus de Luthtranismo, p. 121. has examined this fact with Ins usual industry, and has established its truth by the most undoubted evidence. To these testimmu 3 which he has collected, I may add the decisive one of Cardinal Cajetan, the pope's legale at Prank- fort, in his letter, July 5th, 1511). Epistres au Princes, &.c. recueiDes par Kuscelli, traduicts par Belforcst. Par. 15" 2. p. fid. t Freheri Rer. German. Scriptoreb, vol. iii. 1*2. cur. Struxii. Argent. 1717. Grianone Hist if Mples, ii. w. 216 T H E RE I G N 0 F [Book ff. On the twenty-eighth day of June, five months and ten days after the death of Maximilian, this important contest, which had held all Europe in suspense, was decided. Six of the electors had already declared for the king of Spain ; and the archhishop of Triers, the only 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.* But though the electors consented, from various motives, to promote Charles to that high station, they discovered, at the same time, great jealousy of his extraordinary power, and endeavoured, with the utmost solicitude^ to provide against his encroaching on the privileges of the Ger- manic body. It had long been the custom to demand of every new em- peror a confirmation of these privileges, and to require a promise that he would never 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. But under an emperor so powerful as Charles, other precautions seemed necessary. 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 ; and 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.f The important intelligence of this election was conveyed in nine days from Frankfort to Barcelona, where Charles was still detained by the obstinacy of the Catalonian Cortes, which had not hitherto brought to an issue any of the affairs which came before it. He received the account witfi 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 era we may date the formation, and are able to trace the gradual progress, of a grand S3'stem of enterprising ambition, which renders the history 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 pre-eminence. The most inconsiderable monarchs in Europe enjoy it, and the arrogance of the greater potentates has invented no higher denomination. J The Spaniards were far from viewing the promotion of their king to the Imperial throne with the same satisfaction 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 disagreeable, were the immediate and necessary "consequences of this new dignity. To see the blood of their countrymen * Jac. Aug. Thuan. Hiet. sui Temporia, edit. Bulkley, lib. 1. c. 9. t Pfeffel Abtegi de I'Hi.'t. de Droit Puliliqu* d'Allemagne, 590. Linniei Capitulat. lmper. Epistres dee Princes par Ruscelll, P- CO. t Miniana, Coutiu. Mar. p. 13. Ferreras, viii. 475. Memoires Hist, dela Houssaie, Win. i. p. 53, &.e. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 117 shed in quarrels wherein the nation had no 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 considerations, 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 Imperial crown, were often mentioned with the highest praise, and pronounced to be extremely worthy of imitation at this juncture.* But Charles, without regarding the sentiments or murmurs of his Spanish subjects, accepted of the Imperial dignity, which the count palatine, at the head of a solemn embassy, offered him in the name of the electors [Novem- ber] ; and declared his intention of setting out soon for 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 ceremony of a public coronation, exercise any act of jurisdiction or authority.! Their certain knowledge of this resolution augmented so much the dis- gust of the Spaniards, that a 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 refused to levy that sum, upon pretence that it ought never to be exacted but at those times when Christendom was actually invaded by the Infidels ; and though Leo, in order to support his authority, laid the kingdom under an interdict, so little regard was paid to a 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. J The commotions which arose in the kingdom of Valencia, annexed to the crown of Aragon, were more formidable, and produced more dan- gerous and lasting effects. A seditious monk having, by his sermons, excited 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 importance, 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 privileges and independence were more complete in Valencia 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 without taking arms, it became necessaiy to have recourse to the emperor, and to desire his permission to attack 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 exasperated to a high degree against the nobility. As he was eager to visit Germany, where his presence be- came every day more necessary, and as his Flemish 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 * Sandoval, i. p. 32. Miniana, Contin, p. J4 f SabiBQP, P. B»nrp. viii. 1085. ? P Ma>- Jyr. Ep. 4fi9. Frrrprss viii. 4?:? n;-, THE REIGN OF THE [Book I. 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 privileges with the usual solemnities, and to demand of them a free gift. But the Valencian nobles, who considered 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 declaration they adhered with a haughty and inflexible obstinacy. Charles, piqued by their be- haviour, decided in favour of the people, and rashly authorized them to continue in arms. The 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 government to magistrates of their own election, and entered into an association distinguished by the name of Germanada or Brotherhood, which proved the source not only of the wildest disorders, but of the most fatal calamities in that kingdom.* Meanwhile, the kingdom of Castile was agitated with no less violence. No sooner was the emperor's intention to leave Spain made known, than several cities of the first rank resolved to remonstrate against it, and to crave redress once more of those grievances which they had formerly laid before him. Gharles artfully avoided admitting their deputies to audience ; and as he saw 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 reason for calling that assembly, was the hope of obtaining 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 tendency ; 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 universal alarm. The magistrates of Toledo remonstrated against both these measures in a very hisrh 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 fortunately made their escape during a violent tempest, they would have massacred all the Flemings, and have prevented him from continuing his journey towards Compostella. Every city through which he passed, petitioned against holding a Cortes in Galicia, a point with regard to which Charles was inflexible. But though the utmost 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 [April 1], there appeared among many of the members unusual symptoms of ill-hu- mour, 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, having fallen upon two persons devoted to the Flemish 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 repair to Compostella, and to protest against the lawfulness of the Cortes assembled there. The representatives of Salamanca refused to take the usual path * P. Martyr, Ep.ftT>l Forreras, viji. 47fi, 48^. EMPEKOK CHARLES V. 119 of fidelity, unless Charles consented to change the place of meeting. Those . i. p. 14. The terms in which Tetzel and his associates described >'ie benefits of indulgences, and the neces- sity of purchasing them, are so extravagant, that they apr-ear to be almost incredible. If any man (said they) purchases letters 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 thai place of torment, and ascend into heaven. That the efficacy of indulgences 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 T For twelve pence you may redeem the soul of your father out of purgatory ; and are you so ungrate- ful, 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, Slc. These, and many such extra- vagant expressions, are selected out of Luther's works by Chemnitius in his Examen Concilii Tridentini, apud Herm. Vonder Hardt. Ilist. Liter. Reform, pars iv. p. 6. The same author has published several of Tetzel's discourses, which prove 'hot these expression-: were neither singula.' 7i<>r exaggerated, [bid. p. 14. EMPEROR CHARLES V. U7 reputation, not only for piety, but for his love of knowledge, and his un- wearied application to study. He had been taught the scholastic philosophy and theology which were then in vogue, by very able masters, and wanted not penetration to comprehend all the niceties and distinctions with which they abound ; but his understanding, naturally sound, and superior to every thing frivolous, soon became disgusted with those subtile and unin- structive sciences, and sough; for some more solid foundation of knowledge and of piety in the holy scriptures. Having tound a copy of the Bible which lay neglected in the library of his monastery, he abandoned all other pursuits, 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 notions from that source. I he 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 a university at Wittemberg on the Elbe, the place of his residence, Luther was chosen first to teach philosophy, and after- wards theology there ; and discharged both offices in such a manner, that he was deemed the chief ornament of that society. While Luther was at the height of his reputation and authority, Tetzel began to publish indulgences in 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 provinces of Germany, Tetzel met with pro- digious success there. It was with the utmost concern that Luther beheld the artifices of those who sold, and the simplicity of those who bought indulgences. The opinions of Thomas Aquinas and the other schoolmen, on which the doctrine of indulgences was tounded, had already lost much of their authority with him ; and the scriptures which he began to con- sider 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 dis- coveries, or to continue a silent spectator of the delusion of his country- men. From the pulpit, in the great church at Wittemberg, 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 appointed by God in his word. The bold- ness and novelty of these opinions drew great attention, and being recom- mended 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 doctrines among the people, he wrote to Albert, elector of Mentz, and archbishop of Magdeburg, to whose jurisdiction that part of Saxony was subject, and remonstrated 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 success to correct their abuses. His next attempt was to gain the suffrage of men of learning. For this purpose he published ninety -five theses, containing his sentiments with regard, to indulgences. These he proposed, not as points fully established, or of undoubted certainty, but as subjects of inquiry and disputation ; he appointed a day, on which the learned were invited to impugn them, either in person or by writing ; to the whole he subjoined solemn pro- testations of his high respect for the apostolic see, and of his implicit submission 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 m THE REiliN OF.THE [Book II. power, but to attack the Dominicans, armed with all the terrors of inquisitorial authority.* 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 extraordinary 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 Komish church, the Augustinians were highly pleased with his invectives against the Dominicans, and hoped to see them exposed 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 obstruction which Luther threw in the way of the publication of indulgences. He secretly encouraged the attempt, and flattered himself that this dispute among the ecclesiastics themselves, might give some check to the exactions of the court of Rome, which the secular princes had long, though without success, been endeavouring to oppose. Many zealous champions immediately arose to defend opinions on which the wealth and power of the church were founded, against Luther's attacks. In opposition to his theses, Tetzel published counter-theses at Francfort on the Oder ; Eccius, a celebrated divine of Augsburg, endea- voured 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 con- ducted the controversy did little service to their cause. Luther attempted to combat indulgences by arguments founded in reason, or derived trom scripture ; they produced nothing in support of them, but the sentiments of schoolmen, the conclusions of the canon law, and the decrees of popes, t The decision of judges so partial and interested, 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 iawj.§ * Lutheri Opera, Jenae, 1612, vol. i. pra-fat. 3. p. 2. GG. Hist, of Council of Trent by F. Paul, p. 4. Seekend Com Apol. p. 16. f F. Paul, p. 6. Weekend, p. 40. Palavic. p. 8. I Seckend, p. 30. $ Guicciardini has asserted two things with regard to the first promulgation of indulgences : V That Leo bestowed a gift of the profits arising from tht sale of indulgences in Saxony, and the adjacent provinces of Germany, upon his sister Magdalen, the wife of Francescetto Cibo, Guic. lib. 13. 108. — 9. That Arcemboldo, a Genoese ecclesiastic, who had been bred a merchant, 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 Luther was prompted at first to oppose Tetzel and hie associates, by a desire of taking revenge lor 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 tor exactness and veracity, we may observe, 1. That Felix Contolori, who searched the pontifical archives on purpose, could not find thfaf 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 of Mentz, who had the right of nominating those who published them. Seek. p. 12. Luth. Oper. 1. praf. 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 mention 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. — 3. The publication of indulgences in Germany was not usually committed to the Augustinians. The promulgation of them, at throe different periods under Julius II. was granted to the Franciscans ; the Dominicans had been employed in the same office a short time before the present period. Palav. p. 4g. — 6. The promulgation of those indulgences, which first excited 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 archbishop. Palav. 6. Seek. 16, 17. — 7. Luther was not instigated by his superiors anion? the Augustinians to attack the Dominicans their rivals, or to depreciate indulgences because they were promulgated by them ; his opposition to then- opinions and vn ea proceeded from more laudable motives. Secfc EMPEROR CHARLES V. 129 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 elegant and refined pleasures, intent upon great schemes of policy, a stranger to theological controversies, and apt to despise them, regarded with the utmost indifference the operations of an ohscure friar, who, in the heart of Germany, carried on a scholastic disputation in a barbarous style. Little did he apprehend, or Luther 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, who were exaspe- rated to a high degree by the boldness and severity with which he ani- madverted on their writings, together with the surprising progress which his opinions made in different parts of Germany, roused at last the atten- tion 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 appear at Rome [July, 1518], within sixty days, before the auditor of the chamber, and the Inquisitor-general Prierias, who had written against him, whom he empowered jointly 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 nomination of a judge so prejudiced and partial as Prierias, Luther easily saw what sentence ne might expect at Rome. He discovered, for that reason, the utmost solicitude to have his cause tried in Germany, and before 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 sub- missive letter, promising an unreserved compliance with his will, the pope gratified them so far as to empower his legate in Germany, cardinal Ca- jetan, a Dominican, eminent for scholastic learning, and passionately de- voted to the Roman see, to hear and determine the cause. Luther, though he had good reason to decline the judge chosen among his avowed adversaries, did not hesitate about appearing before Cajetan ; and having obtained the emperor's safe-conduct, immediately repaired to Augsburg. The cardinal received him with decent respect, and endea- voured at first to gain upon him by gentle treatment. The cardinal, relying on the superiority of his own talents as a theologian, entered into a formal dispute with Luther concerning the doctrines contained in his theses.* But p. 13. 32. IiiHlicri Opera, 1. p. G4. 6.8. A diploma of Indulgences is published by llerm. Vender llardt, 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 nol art. The limits of the country to which their commissions extended, viz. the dioeess of Mentz, M.iL'ilihuri;, llalberstadt, and the territories of the marquis of Kraudenbtirg, arc mentioned in that diploma. Hist. Literuria Reformat, para iv. p. 14. * In the former editions I asserted, upon the authority of Rather Paul, that Cajetan thought it neath his dignity to entei into an; dispute with Luther; but M Beausobre, in his Hiatoire de la Vox,. [I.—17 isw THE REIGN PF THE [Book!/. the weapons which they employed wore so different, Cajetan appealing to papal decrees, and the opinions of schoolmen, 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 judge, enjoined Luther, by virtue of the apostolic powers with which he was clothed, to retract the errors 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 belief 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 recantation, before any endeavours were used to convince him that he was mistaken. He had nattered himself, that in a conference concerning the points in dispute with a prelate of such distinguished abilities, he should be able to remove many of those imputations with 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, however, did not desert him. He declared with the utmost firmness, that he could not, with a safe conscience, renounce opinions which he be- lieved 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 ot the apostolic see;* he signified his willingness to submit the whole con- troversy to certain universities which he named, and promised neither to write nor to preach concerning indulgences for the tuture, provided his adversaries were likewise enjoined to be silent with respect to them.| All these offers Cajetan disregarded or rejected, and still insisted peremp- torily on a simple recantation, threatening him with ecclesiastical censures, and forbidding him to appear again in his presence, 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 suspegt, 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 before his departure, according to a form of which there had been some examples, he prepared [October 18] a solemn appeal from the pope, ill-informed at that time concerning his cause, to the pope, when he should receive more full information with respect to it. J 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 Home, 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 eaution. lie had neither heard any of Luther's discourses, nor read any of his books ; though all Germany resounded with his fame, he had never once admitted him into his presence. § But upon this demand which the. cardinal made, it became necessary 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 Reformation, vol. i. p. 121, &c. has ■satisfied me that 1 was mistaken. See also Seckcnd. lib.i. p. •16, &c. * Luth. Opor. vol. i. p. 164. t Id. ibid. p. 100. | Sleid. Hist, of Reform. r<. 7. Sectm*. p.45. Lutta. Oper. i. 163. ,$ Seckend. p. 27. Sleid. Hiet. p. 13. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 131 every (jierman prince ; and foreseeing how fatal a blow the removal of Luther would be to its reputation,* 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 discovered great concern for Luther's safety. t The inflexible rigour with which Cajetan insistecfon a simple recantation, gave great offence to Luther's followers in that age, and hath since been censured as imprudent, by several Popish writers. But it was impossible 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 errors, that, without waiting for the expiration ot the sixty days allowed him in the citation, they had already condemned him as a 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 wrould have filled any other person with the most disquieting apprehensions. He could not expect that a prince so prudent and cautious as Frederic, would, on his account, 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 de- cisions ; what terrors 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 inveigh against those of his adversaries with more vehe- mence than ever.§ But as eveiy step taken by the court of Rome, particularly the irregular sentence by which he had been so precipitately declared a heretic, con- vinced Luther that Leo would soon proceed to the most violent measures against him, he had recourse to the only expedient in his power, in order to prevent the effect of the papal censures. He appealed to a general council, which he affirmed to by the representative ot the catholic church, and superior in power to the pope, who, being a fallible man, mi^ht err, as St. Peter, the most perfect ot his predecessors had erred. || It soon appeared, that Luther had not formed rash conjectures concerning the intentions of the Romish 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 ven- tured to use in the darkest ages ; and without applying such palliatives, or mentioning such concessions, as a more enlightened period, and the dis- positions 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 doctrine of the catholic church, and subjected those who should hold or teach and contrary opinion to the heaviest ecclesiastical censures. Among Luther's followers, this bull, which they considered as an un- justifiable effort of the pope, in order 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 * Scckend. p. .">0. T Sleid. Hist p. 10. Luth. Oper. i. i; I J Luth Oner i 16' - <■■„■>■■:>- | SleH. Hist. J3. Luth. Oper. i. 179. 132 THE REIGN OF THE [Book II. against him, and enforced by such dreadful penalties, must have been attended with consequences very fatal to his cause ; if these had not been prevented in a great measure by the death of the emperor Maximilian. [January 17, 1519,] 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 up to some degree of strength and firmness. At the 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 solicitous not to irritate a prince of such considerable influence in the electoral college as Frederic, that he discovered a great unwillingness to pronounce the sentence of excommunication against Luther, which his adversaries continually demanded with the most clamorous im- portunity. To these political views of the pope, as well as to his natural aversion from severe measures, was owing the suspension of any further proceedings against 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 errors; and its indifference about truth, however clearly proposed, or strongly proved, he began to utter some doubts with regard to the divine original of the papal authority. A public disputation was held upon this 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 usurpations of the Romish church break out in Saxony alone ; an attack no less violent, and occasioned by the same causes, was made upon them about this time in Switzerland. The Franciscans being intrusted with the promulgation of indulgences in that country, executed 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 in 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. f 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 Cologne and Louvain, which pronounced his opinions to be erroneous, afforded great cause of triumph to his adversaries. But the undaunted spirit of Luther acquired additional fortitude from every instance of opposition ; and 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 were established. Leo came at last to be convinced, that all hopes of reclaiming him by forbearance were vain ; s<'v<-ral prelates of great wisdom exclaimed no less than Luther's personal * Liith. Oper. i 199. leid. Hist. 22 Scckend '■•' EMPEROR CHARLES \. 133 adversaries, against the pope's unprecedented lenity in permitting an incorri- gible heretic, 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 proceed ings necessary ; the new emperor, it was hoped, would support its autho- rity ; 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. The college of cardinals was often assembled, in order to prepare the sentence with due deliberation, and the ablest canonists were consulted how it might be expressed with unexceptionable formality. At last, on the fifteenth of June, one thousand five hundred and twenty, the bull, so fatal to the church of Rome, was issued. Forty-one propositions, extracted out of Luther's works, are therein condemned as heretical, scandalous, and offensive to pious ears; all persons are forbidden to read his writings, upon pain of excommunication; sucn as had any of them in their custody are commanded to commit them to the flames; he himself, if he did not in sixty days, publicly recant his errors, and burn his books, is pronounced an obstinate 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.* The publication of this bull in Germany excited various passions in different places. Luther's adversaries exulted, as if his party and opinions had been crushed at once by such a decisive blow. His followers, whose reverence for the papal authority daily diminished, read Leo's anathemas with more indignation than terror. 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 torn in pieces, and trodden under foot.t This sentence, which he had for some time expected, did not disconcert or intimidate Luther. After renewing his appeal to the general council [Nov. 17], he published remarks upon the bull of excommunication ; and being now persuaded that Leo had been guilty both of impiety and injustice in his proceedings against him, he boldly declared the pope to be that man of sin, or Antichrist, whose appearance is foretold in the New Testament,- he declaimed against his tyranny and usurpations with greater violence than ever ; he exhorted all Christian 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 Eovver to words alone ; Leo having, in execution of the bull, appointed uther's book to be burnt at Rome, he, by way of retaliation, assembled all the professors 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, together 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 evident tendency to subvert afi civil government.! Such was the progress which Luther had made, and such the state of his party, when Charles arrived in Germany. No secular prince had hitherto embraced Luther's opinions ; no change in the established forms of worship • Talavic. 27. I.ntli. Oper. i. 433. f Seckend, p 1 16. i T.uth Oper. ii 316. 134 THE REIGJ3 OF THE [Book It. had been introduced, and no encroachments had been made upon the pos- sessions or jurisdiction 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, and replies. A deep impression, however, was made upon the minds of the people ; their reverence for ancient institutions and doc- trines 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 toWittemberg; and under Luther him- self, Melancthon, Caiiostadius, and other masters then reckoned eminent, imbibed opinions, which, on their return, they propagated among their countrymen, who listened to them with that tond attention, which truth, when accompanied with novelty, naturally commands.* During the course of these transactions, die court of Rome, though under the direction of one of its ablest pontiffs, neither formed its schemes with that profound sagacity, nor executed them with that steady perseverance, 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 different 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 departuie 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 indulgences ; if he had forbidden the mentioning of controverted points in discourses addressed to the people ; it 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 bad hitherto been left undetermined ; Luther would, probably, have stopt 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 maintain with the. Dominicans 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 oi' 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 excom- munication, which at another juncture might have been decisive, was delayed so long, that it became at last scarcely an object of terror. Such a series of errors in the measures of a court seldom chargeable with mistaking its own true interest, is not more astonishing than the wis- dom which appeared in Luther's conduct. Though a perfect stranger to the maxims of wordly w isdom, 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 con- tributed more to their success, than if every step he took had been pre- scribed by the most artful policy. At the time when he set himself tr * Serkerrf 59 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 135 oppose Tetzel, he was far from intending that reformation which he after- wards effected ; and would have trembled with horror at the thoughts of what at last he gloried in accomplishing. The knowledge of truth was not poured into his mind all at once, by any special revelation ; he acquired it by industry and meditation, and his progress, of consequence, was gra- dual. The doctrines of popery are so closely connected, that the exposing of one error conducted him naturally to the detection of others ; and all the parts of that artificial f ibric 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 indul- gences, he was obliged to inquire into the true cause of our justification and acceptance with God. The knowledge of that discovered to him by degrees the inutility of pilgrimages and penances ; the vanity of relying on' the intercession of saints ; the impiety of worshipping them ; the abuses of auricular confession ; and the imaginary existence of purgatory. The detection of so many errors led him of course to consider the character of the clergy who taught them ; and their exorbitant wealth, the severe injunction of celibacy, together with the intolerable rigour of monastic vows, appeared to him the great sources of their corruption. From thence, it was but one step to call in question the divine original of the papal power, which authorized and supported such a system of errors. As the unavoidable result of the whole, he disclaimed the infallibility 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 proposition too repugnant to their ancient preju- dices, or too remote from established opinions. They were conducted insensibly from one doctrine to another. Their faith and conviction were able to keep pace with his discoveries. To the same cause was owing the inattention, 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 ol its ven- geance ; 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. But whatever advantages Luther's cause derived, either from the mis- takes of his adversaries, or from his own good conduct, the sudden pro- gress and firm establishment of his doctrines must not be ascribed to these alone. The same corruptions in the church of Rome which he condemned, had been attacked long before his time. The same opinions which he now propagated, had been published in different places, and were sup- ported by the same arguments. Waldus in the twelfth century, Wickliff in the fourteenth, and Huss in the fifteenth, had inveighed against the errors 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 flourished. But all these premature attempts towards a reformation proved abortive. Such feeble lights, incapable 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 con- siderable. 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 mature juncture when he appeared, circum- stances of every kind concurred in rendering each step that he took suc- cessful. W6 THE REIGN OF THE [Book II. The long and scandalous schism which divided the church during the latter part of the fourteenth and the beginning of the fifteenth centuries, had a great effect in diminishing the veneration with which the world 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 countries which acknowledged their authority ; excommunicating their rivals, and cursing those who adhered to them ; discredited their pretensions to infal- libility, and exposed both their persons and their office to contempt. The laity, to whom all parties appealed, came to learn that some right ot pri- vate judgment belonged to them, and acquired the exercise of it so far as to choose, among these infallible guides, whom they would please to fol- low. The proceedings of the councils of Constance and Basil spread this disrespect for the Romish see stiil wider, and by their bold exertion of authority in deposing and electing popes, taught the world 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 authority was scarcely healed up, when the pontificates of Alexander VI. and Julius II., both able princes, but detestable ecclesiastics, raised new scandal in Christendom. The profligate morals of the former in private life ; the fraud, the injus- tice, 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, 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 humility, 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 pontifi- cates ; and as the emperor alid French kings, who were alternately en- gaged in hostilities with those active pontiffs, permitted and even encou- raged their subjects to expose their vices with all the violence of invec- tive 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. Nor were such excesses confined to the head of the church alone. Many of the dignified clergy, secular 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 accustomed totally to neglect the duties of their office, and indulged 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 rendered them as contemptible as the other were odious.* The severe and unnatural law of celibacy, to which both were equally subject, occasioned such irregu- larities, that in several parts of Europe the concubinage of priests was not only permitted, but enjoined. The employing of a remedy so con- trary to the precepts of the Christian religion, is the strongest proof that * The corrupt state of the church, prior to the Reformation, is" acknowledged 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 knowledge of sacred literature, any reverence for divine things ; there was almost not any religion remaining." Bellarminus Concio xxviii. Oper. torn. T?, Ool. 2UC. edit. Colon. 1617. apud Gerdesii Hist. Evan. Renovati, vol. i. p. 25. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 137 the crimes it was intended to prevent were both numerous and flagrant. Long before the sixteenth century, many authors of great name and autho- rity give such descriptions of the dissolute morals of the clergy, as seem almost incredible in the present age.* The voluptuous lives of ecclesi- astics 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 afflu- ence, did not show the same indulgence to their excesses, as to those of persons possessed of hereditary wealth or grandeur ; and viewing their condition with more envy, they censured their crimes with greater severity. Nothing, therefore, could be more acceptable to Luther's hearers, than the violence with which he exclaimed against the immoralities of churchmen, and every person in his audience could, from his own observation, confirm the truth oi his invectives. The scandal of these crimes was greatly increased by the facility with which such as committed them obtained pardon. In all the European kingdoms, the impotence of the civil magistrate, under forms of govern- ment extremely irregular and turbulent, made it necessary to relax the rigour of justice, and upon payment of a certain fine or composition prescribed by law. judges were accustomed to remit farther punishment, even of the most atrocious crimes. The court of Rome, always attentive to the means of augmenting its revenues, 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 composition 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 carrying it on, the officers of the Roman chancery published a book, containing the pre- cise 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 chastity, 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 having acquired more accurate notions concerning religion 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.! This degeneracy of manners among the clergy might have been tolerated, * Centum Gravamina Nation. German, in Fasciculo Rer. expetend. et fugiendarum, per Ortui- num Gratium, vol. i. 361. See innumerable passages to the same purpose in the appendix, or second volume, published by Edward Brown. See also Herru. vonder Hardt, Hist. Lit. Reform, pars iii. and tile vast collections of Walchius in his four volumes of Monumenta MediiiEvi. Getting. 1757. The authors 1 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 deco- rum of behaviour. Accordingly 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 taken not 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 IV. in a letter to the archbishop of Mentz, A. D. 1359, exhorting hiin to reform the disorders of the clergy, thus expresses himself, " I)e Christi pati imonio, ludos, liasti ■ ludia et torneamenta exercent ; habitum militarem cum prietcxtis aureis et argenteis gestanl, et cal- ceos militarc8 ; comam et barbam nutriunt, et nihil quod ad vitam et ordinem erclesiasticum spec- tat, ostendunt. Militaribus se duntaxat et secularibus actihus, vita et moribus, in sua? Ealutis dis pendium, et generale populi scandalum, immiscent." Codex Diplomalir.us Anecdotorum, per Val. Ferd. Gudentini, 4to. vol. iii. p. 438. t Fascicul. Rer. expet. et fug. i. 355. J. G. Sehelhornii Amenit. Literal. Francof. 1725. vol. ii. 369. Diction, dc Bayle, Artie. Banck. et Tuppius. Taxa Canceller. Roman*, edit. Francof. 1651. pantm. Vol. II.— 18 138 THE REIGN OF THE [Book H. Eerhaps, with greater indulgence, if their exorbitant riches and jaower ad not enabled them, at the same time, to encroach on the rights ol every other order of men. It is the genius of superstition, fond ot 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 countiy of Europe, and which were become intolerable to the laity, from whose undiscerning bounty they were at first derived. The burden, however, of ecclesiastical oppression had fallen with such peculiar weight on the Germans, as rendered them, though naturally exempt from levity, and tenacious of their ancient customs, more inclina- ble than any people in Europe to listen to those who called on them to assert their liberty. During the long contests 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 rebellion against the head of the empire, they seized the Imperial domains and revenues, and usurped the Imperial jurisdiction within their own diocesses. Upon the re-establishinent of tranquillity, they still retained these usurpations, as if by the length of an unjust possession they had acquired a legal right to them. The emperors, too feeble to wrest them out of their hands, 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 character and manners partook more of the license too frequent among the latter, than of the sanctity Avhich became the former.* 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 ot anarchy, which enjoyed security from the oppression of the great, or the ravages of war, was that which belonged 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 read}' to pronounce 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 additions were made in this way to the property of the clergy. t 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 outward solemnity ; were distinguished from the rest of 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 superior species to the profane laity, whom it would be impious 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, * F. Fanl, History of Ecclosiast. Benefices, p. 107. t Ihid. p. 66. Bou!iinviller.=. Etat de Fr<»nc». torn. i. 100. I^ond 1737. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 139 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 emperors.* 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 unhallowed hand of the civil judge durst not toucn him. But as the power of degradation was lodged in the spiritual courts, the difficulty and expense of obtaining such a sen- tence, 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.! The German nobles complained loudly, that these anointed malefactors, as they called them,J seldom suffered capitally, even for the most atrocious crimes ; and their independence on 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 own order with so much zeal, they made continual encroachments upon those of the laity. All causes relative to matrimony, to testaments, to usury, to legitimacy of birth, as well as those which concerned ecclesiastical revenues, were thought to be so connected with religion, that they could be tried only in the spiritual 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, endea- voured 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 employed 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 decisions of which they could rely with more perfect confidence than on those of the civil courts. Thus the interest of the church, and the inclination of the people, concurring to elude the jurisdiction of the lay-magistrate, soon reduced it almost to nothing.jl By means of this, vast power accrued to ecclesiastics, and no inconsiderable addition was made to their revenue by the sums paid in those ages to the persons who administered justice. The penalty by which the spiritual courts enforced their sentences, added great weight and terror to their jurisdiction. The censure of excommunication was instituted 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 ecclesiastics 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, immediately incurred this dreadful censure, which not only excluded them from all the privileges of a Christian, but deprived them of their rights as men and citizens, if 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 preserving the wealth and power which they had acquired with such industry and address. The possessions of the church, being consecrated to God, were declared to be unalienable ; so that the funds of a society, 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.** In other countries, the proportion varied ; but the * Goldasti Conxtitut. Imperial. Franrof. IG73. vol. ii. 92. 107. f Rymer's Fredera. vol. xiii. 532. Centum Gravam. sect. 31. $ Giaunone Hist, of Naples, hook xix. sect. 3. II Centum Gravarn. serf, y 5fi 84. *' Tbid. sect. M "' Ihfil. sen. 28. . 140 THE REIGN OF THE [Book II. share belonging to the church was every where prodigious. These vast 1>ossessions were not subject to the burdens imposed on the lands of the aity. The German clergy were exempted by law from all taxes,* and if, on any extraordinary 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 sole- cism 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 numerous privileges of the clerical order were to the other members of the Germanic body, they would have reckoned it some mitigation of the evil, if these had been Possessed only by ecclesiastics residing among themselves, who would ave been less apt to make an improper use of their riches, or to exercise their rights with unbecoming rigour. But the bishops of Rome having early put in a claim, the boldest that ever human ambition suggested, of being supreme and infallible 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 superstition of some princes, of the necessity of others, and of the credulity of the people, at length established their pretensions, in opposi- tion 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 immunities, 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. The right of conferring benefices, which the popes usurped during that period 01 confusion, was an acquisition of great importance, and exalted the ecclesiastical power upon the ruins of the temporal. The emperors and other princes of Germany had long been in possession of this right, which served to increase both Jheir 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 not 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 superstitious 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 irritating them too far, consented, contrary to their 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 remainder to the princes and other legal patrons.t But the court of Rome easily found expedients for eluding an agree- ment which put such restraints on its power. The practice of reserving certain benefices in every country to the pope's immediate nomination, 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 numerous officers in the Roman court ; those held by persons * Centum Gravam. sect. 28. Goldasti Const. Imper. ii. 79. 108. Pfeflfel Hist, <2u I>rcit Pub! 350. 374. * F. Paul, Hiat. of Eccles. Benef. 504. Gold. Constit. Imper. i. 40". EMPEROR CHARLES V, Ml 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 II. and Leo X. 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 ot reservation, however, even with this extension, had certain limits, as it could be exercised only where the benefice was actually vacant, and there- fore in order to render the exertion of papal power unbounded, expectativc graces, or mandates nominating a person to succeed to a benefice upon the hrst 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.* The manner in which these extraordinary powers were exercised, rendered them still more odious and intolerable. The avarice and extor- tion 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. Companies of merchants openly purchased the benefices of different districts in Germany from the pope's ministers, and retailed them at an advanced price. | 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 exportation 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 person, upon his admission to his benefice, paid annats, 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 groportion of the revenues of the church,which flowed continually to x>me, 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 ot that dominion which the popes had established over the Christian world ; and such the sentiments concerning them that pre- vailed in Germany at the beginning of the sixteenth century. Nor has this sketch been copied from the controversial writers of that age, who, in the heat of disputation, may be suspected of having exaggerated the errors, or of having 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, coolly 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 assemblies expressed themselves with that degree of acrimony which abounds in their remonstrances : and if they demanded the abolition of those enormities with so much vehemence, the * Centum Gravam, Beet 21. Fascic. B< r. expet. &r. 334. Gold. Const Imper. i, 301. 404, 40X F.Paol, Hist, of Ecd. Benef. 167 190, ! Fascic. B*T.oxpetJ.8SD. 142 THE REIGN OF THE [Hook II. people, we may be assured, uttered their sentiments and desires in bolder itnd more virulent language. To men thus prepared for shaking off the yoke,Lutli< r addressed him- self with certainty of success. As they had long felt its weight, and had borne it with impatience, they listened with joy to the first offer of pro- curing them deliverance. Hence proceeded the fond and eager reception that his doctrines met with, and the rapidity with which they spread over all the provinces of Germany. Even the impetuosity and fierceness of Luther's spirit, his confidence in asserting his own opinions, and the arro- gance as well as contempt 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 exces- sive to his contemporaries 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 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 occasion, 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 errors 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 juncture 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 discovery, 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 doctrines which they had formerly been required to believe, 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 know- ledge, roused it from that profound lethargy in which it had been sunk during several centuries. Mankind 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 upon all subjects. They were not now afraid of entering an uncommon path, or of embracing a new opinion. Novelty appears rather to have been a recommendation of a doctrine ; and instead of being startled when the daring hand of Luther drew aside or tore the veil which covered established errors, the genius of the age applauded and aided the attempt. 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 Hebrew anil Greek tongues. Melancthon, and some other of his disciples, were emi- nent proficients in the polite arts; and as the same ignorant monks who opposed the introduction of learning into Germany, set themselves "with EMFEROR CHARLES v. 143 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, industry, 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 barbarous style, were found insufficient for the defence of a system, the errors of which, all the art and ingenuity of its later and more learned advocates have not been able to pal hate. That bold spirit of inquiry, which the revival of 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, by persons who did not wish success to his undertaking. The greater part of the ingenious men who applied to the study of ancient literature toward* the close of the fifteenth century, and the beginning of the sixteenth, though they had no intention, and perhaps no wish, to overturn the esta- blished system of religion, had discovered the absurdity of many tenets and practices authorized by the church, and perceived the futility of those arguments by which illiterate monks endeavoured to defend them. Their contempt of these advocates for the received errors, led them frequently to expose the opinions which they supported, and to ridicule their ignorance with great freedom and severity. By this, men were prepared for the more serious attacks made upon them by Luther, and their reverence both for the doctrines and persons against whom he inveighed was considerably abated. This was particularly 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 return, 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.* From the same cause proceeded the frequent strictures of Erasmus upon the errors 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 be- ginning 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 towards Luther's success. Erasmus, having been destined for the church, and trained up in the knowledge of ecclesiastical literature, applied himself more to theolo- gical inquiries than any of the revivers of learning in that age. His acute judgment and extensive erudition enabled him to discover many errors, 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 practice 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 seemed to applaud his conduct ; he courted the friendship of * Gerdesias Hist. Kvan^- Renov, vol i p. 141, 157 Seckend. lib. i. p. 103. VondorHardt. His* bitvsr. Rflftmn. para U 144 THE REIGN OF THE [Book II. several of his disciples and patrons, and condemned the behaviour and spirit of his adversaries.* He concurred 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 scriptures, as the only standard of religious truth.t Various circumstances, however, prevented Erasmus from holding the same course with Luther. The natural timidity of his temper ; his want of that strength of mind which alone can prompt a man to assume the character of a reformer ;J his excessive deference for persons in high station ; his dread of losing the pensions 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 errors of the church,§ 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 im- petuous, 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 censures 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.U In this light he must be considered by every person conversant in the his- tory of that period. In this long enumeration of the circumstances which combined in favouring the progress of Luther's opinions, or in weakening the resistance of his adversaries, I have avoided entering into any discussion of the theo- logical doctrines of popery, and have not attempted 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 ecclesiastical 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 perhaps to the scene, or too deeply interested in it, to trace the cause with accuracy, or to examine them with coolness, the rapidity with which his opinions spread appeared to be so unaccountable, that some of them im- puted it to a certain uncommon and malignant position of the stars, which scattered "the spirit of giddiness and innovation over the world.H it is evident, that the success of the Reformation was the natural effect of 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. — I return from it to the course of the history. The diet at Worms conducted its deliberations with that slow formality peculiar to such assemblies. Much time was spent in establishing some regulations with 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 * Seckend. lib. i. p. 40. 9G. t Vonder Hardt, Histor. Literar. Reform, pars i. Gcrdes. Hist. Evang. Renov. i. 147. i 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 written every thing in the most unexceptionable manner, I had no inclination to die for the sake of truth. Every man hath not the courage requisite to make a martyr ; and I am nfraid that, if I were put to the trial, I should imitate St. Peter." Epist. Erasmi in .lortin's Life of Erasm. vol. i. p. 273. . Srar ium. vol. ii. I8n. &«• 156 THE REIGN OF THE [Book II. ble opportunity in the manner which he would have wished. The vigi- lance of Morone, and the good conduct of Colonna, disappointed his feeble attempts on the Milanese. Guicciardini, by his address and valour, repulsed a bolder and more dangerous attack which he made on Parma.* Great discord prevailed in the conclave which followed 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. Wolsey's name, notwithstanding all the emperor's magnificent promises to favour his pretensions, of which that prelate did not fail to remind him, was hardly mentioned 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 cardinals combined against him, without being united in favour of any other person. While these factions were 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 car- dinal 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 instantly 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 unacquainted with the manners of the people, or the interest of the state, the government of which they conferred upon him, was unani- mously raised to the papal throne [January 9], at a juncture so delicate and critical, as would have demanded all the sagacity and experience of one of the most able prelates in the sacred college. The cardinals them- selves, 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 great certainty to the influence 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 gratitude, from interest, and from inclination. t Beside the influence which Charles acquired by Adrian's promotion, it threw great lustre on his administration. To bestow on his preceptor such a noble recompense, and to place on the papal throne one whom he had raised- from obscurity, were acts of uncommon magnificence and power. Francis observed, with the sensibility of a rival, the pre-eminence which the emperor was gaining, and resolved to exert himself with fresh vigour, in order to wrest from him his late 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 seizing by surprise, or force, several places in the Milanese, to advance within a few miles of the capital. The confederate army was in no con- dition to obstruct his progress ; for though the inhabitants of Milan, by the artifices of Morone, and by the popular declamations of a monk whom he employed, were inflamed with such enthusiastic zeal against the French government, that they consented to raise extraordinary contributions, Co- lonna must soon have abandoned the advantageous camp which he had chosen at Bicocca, and have dismissed his troops for want of pay, if the * Guic. 1. xiv. 214. t Herm. Moringi Vita Hndriani. ap. Casp. Bnrman. in Anntert. de Hartr p. 52. Conclave Hadr. Ibid. p. 144, &<\ EMPEROR CHARLES V . 157 Swiss in the French service had not once more extricated him out of his difficulties. The insolence or caprice of those mercenaries was often no less fatal to their friends, than their valour and discipline were formidable to their enemies. Having 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 Lautrec remonstrate against these demands, repre- senting to them the impossibility of the former, and the rashness of the latter, which must be attended with certain destruction, as the enemy occupied a camp naturally of great strength, and which by art they had rendered almost inaccessible. The Swiss, deaf to reason, and persuaded that their valour was capable of surmounting eveiy obstacle, renewed their demand with greater fierceness, offering themselves to form the van- guard, and to begin the attack. Lautrec, unable to overcome their obsti- nacy, complied with their request, hoping, perhaps, that some of those unforeseen accidents which so often 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 army. Next morning [May] 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 impetuously upon the intrenchments. But after incredible efforts of valour, which were seconded v> ith great spirit by the French, having lost their bravest officers and best soldiers, and finding that they could make no impression 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 receiving any molestation from the enemy. Next day, such as survived set out for their own country ; and Lautrec. despairing of being able to make any farther resistance, retired into France, after throwing garrisons into Cremona and a few other places ; all which, except the citadel of Cremona, Colonna soon obliged to surrender. Genoa, however, and its territories, remaining subject to France, still gave Francis considerable footing in Italy, and made it easy for him to exe- cute any scheme for the recovery of the Milanese. But Colonna, rendered enterprising by continual success, and 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 oppo- sition or bloodshed, the power of the Adorni, and the authority of the em- peror, were established in Genoa.* Such a cruel succession of misfortunes affected Francis with deep con- cern, which was not a little augmented by the arrival of an English herald, who, in the name of his sovereign, declared war in form against France [May 29 j. This step was taken in consequence of the treaty which Wol- sey had concluded with the emperor at Brugus, and which had hitherto Vita Ferdui. Bavali, p. 344. Guic l.xiv.233 158 THE KEIGN OF THE [Book]]: been kept secret. Francis, though he had reason to be surprised with ihw denunciation, after having been at such pains to soothe Henry and to gain his minister, received the herald with great composure and dignity ;* and without abandoning any of the schemes which he was forming 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 pleasures, 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. Martin was stripped of a rail of massive silver, with which Louis XI., in one of his fits of devotion, had encircled it. By means of these expedients he was enabled to levy a con- siderable army, and to put the frontier towns in a good posture of defence. The emperor, meanwhile, was no less solicitous to draw as much advan- tage as possible from the accession of such a powerful ally ; and the pros- perous situation 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 con- ceived on account of the mortifying disappointment which he had met with in the late conclave. His success exceeded his most sanguine expecta- tions ; and by his artful address, during a residence of six weeks in Eng- land, he gained not only the king and the minister, but the nation itself. Henry, whose vanity was sensibly flattered by such a visft, as well as by the studied respect with which the emperor treated him on every occa- sion, 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 pen- sions which he had already settled on him, renewed his promise of favouring his pretensions to the papacy, with all his interest, he endeavoured to merit the former, and to secure the accomplishment 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 com- mence hostilities than Henry himself. In order to give Charles, before he left England, 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 excursions, attended with greater dishonour than damage 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 .igainst the English. They had been taught by their misfortunes to avoid a pitched battle with the utmost care, and to endeavour, by throwing gar- risons 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 piece-meal. This plan the duke of Vendome, the French general in Picardy, pursued with no less pm- l'5ncr than success : and not only prevented Surrey from taking any town i journal $< Louise deSai 'i" n 130. E Al F £ K O K C HARLES V. 1S9 of importance, but obliged him to retire with Lis army greatly reduced by fatigue, by want of provisions, and by the loss which it had sustained 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 resentment, by the disgusting insolence of his general, and the caprice of the mercenary troops which he employed, 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. While the Christian princes were thus wasting each other's strength, Solyman the Magnificent entered Hungary with a numerous army, and investing Belgrade, which was deemed the chief barrier of that kingdom against the Turkish arms, soon forced it to surrender. 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 thou- sand men, and a fleet of four hundred sail, appeared against a town de- fended by a garrison consisting of five thousand soldiers, and six hundred knights, under the command of Villiers de L'lsle Adam, the grand master, whose wisdom 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 military conduct during a siege of six months ; after sustaining 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 of rubbish, and destitute of every resource.* 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 Europe, 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 implacable enmity to the Infidels. * Fontanua de Bello Rhodio, ap. Scard. Script. Kcr. Corman. vol. ii. p. 88. P. Bane. Hj^t. d'Al. 'em. torn. viii. p. 57. I6«i THF REIGN OF THE [Book Hi. BOOK III. ^ Charles, having had the satisfaction of seeing hostilities begun between France and England, took leave of Henry, and arrived in Spain on the ■seventeenth 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 Galicia had voted the emperor a free gift, without obtaining the redress of any one grievance, than it excited universal indignation. The citizens of Toledo, who con- sidered themselves, on account of the great privileges which they enjoyed, as the guardians of the liberties of the Castilian commons, finding that no regard was paid to the remonstrances of their deputies against that uncon- stitutional 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 person whom they suspected of any attachment to the court, established 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 pos- sessed of the talents as well as of the ambition which, in times of civil discord, raise men to power and eminence.* The resentment of the citizens of Segovia produced effects still more fatal. Tordesillas, one of the representatives 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 Sacrament, 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 life, or at least to allow him time to confess, and to receive absolution of his sins. Without listening to the dictates cither of humanity or religion, they cried out " That the hangman alone could absolve such a traitor to his country ;" 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. t The same spirit seized the inhabitants of Burgos, Zamora, and several other cities ; and though their representatives, taking warning from the late of Tordesillas, had been so wise as to save themselves by a timely liight, they were burnt in effigy, their houses razed to the ground, and their eftects consumed with fire ; and such was the horror which the people had conceived against them, as betrayers of the public liberty, that not one in those licentious multitudes would touch any thing, however valuable, which had belonged to thein.J * Sandov. r 77 ?P. Mart. Bp 673 S Sandov. 103 r. Mart. Ep 674 KMFEROR CHARLES V. ici Adrian, at that time recent of Spain, had scarcely fixed the scat of his government at Valladolid, when lie was alarmed with an account of tin •■ insurrections. He immediately assembled the privy council [June 5, 1520}, to deliberate concerning the proper method of suppressing them. The counsellors differed in opinion ; some insisting 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 beyond 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 otherwise have been averse. He commanded Ronquillo, one of the king's judges, to repair instantly to Segovia, which had set the first example ot mutiny, and to proceed against the delinquents according to law ; and lest the people should be so out- rageous as to resist his authority, a considerable body of troops were* appointed to attend him. The Segovians, foreseeing what they might 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 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 pro- visions. The inhabitants, however, defended themselves with vigour, and having received a considerable reinforcement from Toledo, under the command of Padilla, attacked Ronquillo, and forced him to retire with the loss of his baggage, and military chest.* Upon this, Adrian ordered Antonio de Fonseca, 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 Medina del Campo, where Cardinal Ximenes had established 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 [Aug. 21] ; but his troops were so warmly received, that, despairing of carrying the place, he set fire to some of the houses, in hopes that the citizens 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 considerable at that lime in Spain, and the great mart for the manufactures of Segovia and several other cities. As the warehouses were then filled with goods for the approaching fair, the loss was immense, and was felt universally. This, added to the impression which such a cruel action made on a people long unaccustomed to the horrors of civil war, enraged the Castilians almost 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 Val- ladolid, whom the presence of the cardinal had hitherto restrained, de- clared that they could no longer remain inactive spectators of the sufferings of their countrymen. Taking arms with no less fury than the other cities, they burnt Fonseca's house to the ground, elected 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. * San'dov. 1J2. P. Mart, Ep. 67P. Miniaca. Contin. p. 15. Vol. II.— 21 162 THE RE 1 G.N OF THE [Hook III. The cardinal, though virtuous and disinterested, and capable of governing the kingdom with honour, in times of tranquillity, possessed neither the courage nor the sagacity necessary at such a dangerous j unci uiv. Finding himself unable to check these outrages committed under his own eye, he attempted to appease the people, by protesting that Fonseca had exceeded his orders, 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 cardinal having soon afterwards recalled Fonseca, and dismissed his troops, which he could no longer afford to pay, as the treasury, drained by the rapacious- ness of the Flemish 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 effects merely of popu- lar, and tumultuary rage ; they aimed at obtaining redress of their political grievances, and an establishment of public liberty on a secure basis, objects 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 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 torm of government. The inhabitants of every city formed a great corporation, with valuable immunities and privileges ; they were delivered from a state of subjection and vassalage • they were admitted to a considerable share in the legislature ; they bad acquired the arts of industry, without which cities cannot subsist ; they had accumulated wealth, by engaging in commerce ; and being i'ree and independent themselves, were ever ready to act as the guardians ot the public freedom and independence. The genius of the internal govern- ment established among the inhabitants of cities, which, even in countries where despotic power prevails most, is democratical and republican, ren- dered the idea of liberty famijiar arid dear to them. Their representatives in the Cortes were accustomed, with equal spirit, to check the encroach- ments of the king and the oppression 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 burdened them ; and, conscious of being one of the most considerable orders in the state, were ambitious of becoming the most powerful. The. present juncture appeared favourable for pushing any new claim. Their sovereign was absent from 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 ot carrying them to the most violent extremes ; the royal treasury was exhausted ; the kingdom destitute of troops ; and the government com- mitted to a stranger, of great virtue 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 circumstances, was to establish some form of union or association 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 motive-, 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. Deputies appeared there in name of almost all the cities entitled to have representatives in the Cortes. They all bound themselves, bv solemn oath, to live and die in the scrvio EMPEROR CHARLES V. 163 of the king, and in defence of the privileges of their order 5 and assuming the name of the holy Junta, or association, proceeded to deliberate con- cerning the state ot the nation, and the proper method of redressing its grievances. The first that naturally presented itself, was the nomina- tion of a foreigner to be regent ; this they declared with one voice to bo a violation of the fundamental laws of the kingdom, and resolved to send a deputation of their members 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 resolution, Padilla accomplished an enterprise of the greatest advantage to the cause. After relieving Segovia, he marched suddenly to Tordesillas, [Aug. 29], the pla e 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 had neglected to take proper precautions.! Padilla 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 condition of her Cas- tilian 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 graciously 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 tournament held on that occasion, and seemed highly satisfied with both these ceremonies, which were con- ducted with great magnificence in order to please her, she soon relapsed into her former melancholy and sullenness, and could never be brought, by any arguments or entreaties, to sign any one paper necessary for the despatch of business.^ The Junta, concealing as much as possible this last circumstance, carried on all their deliberations in the name of Joanna ; and as the Castilians, who idolized the name of Isabella, retained a wonderful attachment 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 immoderate 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 power which they had acquired by seeming to act under the royal authority, were no longer satisfied with requiring Adrian to resign the office oi regent ; they detached Padilla to Valladolid with a considerable body of troops, ordering him to seize such members of the council as were still in that city, to conduct thein to Tordesillas, and to bring away the seals of the kingdom, the public archives, and treasury books. Padilla, * P. Mart. F|>. 601. t Vila dell' lmper. Carl. V. dell' A If. Ulloa. Veil. 1509. r «"■ Tliiiinna, Contin. p. 17. ► Snndov 164. P. Mart. Ep. 88 164 THE KE1UN OF THE [Book 111. who was received by the citizens as the deliverer of his country, executed his commission with great exactness ; permitting Adrian, however, still to reside in Valladol id, though only as a private person, and without any shadow of power.* The emperor, to whom frequent accounts of these transactions were transmitted while he was still in Flanders, was sensible oi his own im- prudence 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 valuable of any he possessed, and in which lay the strength and sinews of his power, just ready to disown his authority, ami 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 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 attempt to gain the nialecontents by indulgence and concessions, or prepare directly to suppress them by iorce ; 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 engaged that no odice 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 Enriquez, and the high constable of Castile, Don Inigo de Velasco, two noblemen of great abilities as well as influence, regents of the king- dom 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.j 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 had hitherto accompanied all their undertakings, and seeing no military 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 preparing a remon- strance containing a large enumeration, 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 relating to all the different members, of which the con- stitution was composed, as well as the various departments in the adminis- tration of government, furnishes us with more authentic evidence concerning the intentions 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 calamities under which the nation groaned, and the errors 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 coun- try, had obliged them to assemble, in order to provide in a legal manner tor their own safety, and that of the constitution : For this purpose, they * Samlov. 174. P. Mart. Ep. 753. f P- Heuler. Rer. Austr. lilt. viii. c. fi p. 18e. EMPEROR CHARLES V, 165 demanded that the king -would be pleased to return to his Spanish domi- nions 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 Elemings 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 an}* 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 off the 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 (lie same state they were in at the death of queen Isabella ; that all alienations of the royal demesnes or revenues since that 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 exacted ; 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 ot 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 maintenance during his attendance on the Cortes ; that the Cortes shall assemble once in three years at least, whether 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,orjewelsoutof thekingdom ; thatjudges 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 privileges which the nobles have at any time obtained, to the prejudice of the commons, shall be revoked ; that the government of cities or towns shall not be put into the hands of noblemen ; that the pos- sessions of the nobility shall be subject to all public taxes in the same man- ner as those of the commons ; that an inquiry be made into the conduct of such as have been intrusted with the management of the royal patri- mony 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 dispersed in the kingdom until the cause of publishing them be examined and approved of by the Cortes; that all the money arising Irom the sale of indulgences shall be faithfully employed in carrying on war against the infidels ; that such prelates as do not reside in their diocesses 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 observe all these articles, and on no occasion attempt either to Hnde. nr* to repeal them ; i66 THE REIGN OF THE [Book III. and liiat he shall never solicit the pope or any other prelate to grant him a dispensation or absolution from this oath and promise.* Such were the chief articles presented by the Junta to their sovereign. As the feudal institutions in the several kingdoms of Europe were originally Ihe same, the genius of those governments which arose from them bore a strong resemblance to each other, and the regulations which the Castilians attempted to establish on this occasion, differ little from those which other nations have laboured to procure, in their struggles with their monarchs for liberty. The grievances complained 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 privi- leges ; they had formed more bold and generous sentiments concerning Sovernment ; and discovered an extent of political knowledge to which the Inglish themselves did.not attain until more than a century afterwards. It is not improbable, however, that the spirit of reformation among the Castilians, hitherto unrestrained by authority, and emboldened by success, became too impetuous, and prompted the Junta to propose innovations 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 imprudence and rapaciousness of his foreign ministers, were filled with indignation when -the Junta began to touch 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 conceived on account of Adrian's promotion to the regency, 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. The Junta, meanwhile, expected with impatience the emperor's answer to their remonstrance, which they had appointed some of their number to present. "The members intrusted with this commission set out imme- diately for Germany [Oct. 20], but having received at different places certain intelligence from court, that they could not venture to appear there without endangering their lives, they stopped short in their journey, and acquainted the Junta of the information which bad been given them.t This excited such violent passions as transported the whole party beyond all bounds of prudence 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 encompassed 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 a motion which had for- merly been made, for depriving Charles, during the life of his mother, of the regal titles and authority which had been too rashly conferred upon him, from a false supposition of her total inability for government. Some pro- posed to provide a proper person to assist her in the administration of ' Sandov 20G. r. Mnrt En. 6S0. t Sandov 1-K?. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 167 public affairs, by marrying the queen to the prince of Calabria, the heir < .it Ihe Aragonese kings of Naples, who had been detained in prison sines the time that Eerdinand had dispossessed his ancestors of their crown. All agreed, that as the hopes of obtaining redress and security, merely by presenting their requests to their sovereign, had kept them too long in a state of inaction, and prevented them from taking advantage of the una- nimity with which the nation declared in their favour, it was now neces- sary to collect their whole force, and to exert themselves with vigour, in opposing this fatal combination of the king and nobility against their liberties.* They soon took the field with twenty thousand men. 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 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 [Nov. 23] ; 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, meanwhile, appointed Rioseco as the place of rendezvous for their troops, which, though far inferior to those of the commons in number, excelled 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 animated with the martial spirit peculiar to their order in that age. The infantiy 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. The royalists were commanded by the Conde de Haro, the constable's eldest son, an officer of great expe- rience and of distinguished abilities. , Giron marched with his army directly to Rioseco, and seizing the villages and passes around it, hoped that the royalists would be obliged cither to surrender 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 discipline, necessary for the execution of such a scheme. The Conde de Haro found little difficulty in conducting a considerable reinforcement through all his posts into the town ; and Giron, despairing of being able to reduce it, advanced suddenly to Villa-panda, 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 [Dec. 5], in which Giron had left no other garrison than a regiment 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 tatal 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 a universal consternation " J". Mart. Ep. Pftg. 16K THE REIGN OF THE [Book llf. seized the partisans 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 ot the royalists being owing to Giron's ill conduct rather than to his treachery, he so entirely- lost credit with his party, that he resigned his commission, and retired to one of his castles.* Such members of the Junta as had escaped the enemy's hands at Tordesillas, fled to Valladolid ; and as it would have required a 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 direction of affairs. Their anny, 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 spirits of the soldiery revived, and the whole party forgetting 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 freat part of the current coin had been carried out of the kingdom by the lemings ; the stated taxes levied in times of peace were inconsiderable ; 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 burdening 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 abilities, 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 loledo ; 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 mourning habits, with tears in their eyes, beating their breasts, and falling on their knees, implored the pardon of the saints whose shrines she was about to violate. By this artifice, which screened her from the imputation of sacrilege, and persuaded the people that necessity and zeal for a good cause had con- strained her, though with reluctance, to venture upon this action, she stripped the cathedral of whatever was valuable, and procured a considerable supply of money for the Junta. t The regents, no less at a loss how to maintain their troops, the revenues of the crown having either been dissipated by the Flemings, or seized by the commons, were obliged to take the queen s jewels, together with the plate belonging to the nobility, and apply them to that purpose ; and when those failed, they obtained a small sum by way of loan from the king of Poitugal.J The nobility discovered great unwillingness to proceed to extremities with the Junta. They were animated with no less hatred than the com- mons against the Flemings ; they approved much of several articles in tho remonstrance ; they thought the juncture favourable, 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 nobles, than on the privi- leges of the commons. To this disposition were owing the frequent overtures of peace which the regents made to the Junta, and the continual * Miscellaneous Tracts \>v Or. Mich. Oeildes, vol. i. 27i». t Sandov. 309. Diet. <3e Bavle. art. Pudilla t V. Mart Ep.718. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 169 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 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 pro- mised to join with the commons in their endeavours to extort it.* Such divisions, however, prevailed among the members of the Junta, as pre- vented 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 commerce 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 acquire the direction of their affairs; Padilla, their general, 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 irresolution, mutual distrust, and mediocrity of genius, appeared in all their proceedings at this time. After many consultations held concerning the terms proposed by the regents, they suffered themselves to be so carried away by resentment against the nobility, that, rejecting all thoughts of accommodation, they threatened to strip them of the crown lands, which they or their ancestors had usurped, and to re-annex 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 subjects, they were so intent, that they now exclaimed with less vehemence against the exactions of the foreign ministers, than against the exorbitant power and 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 small encounters, and in reducing some inconsiderable towns, helped to precipitate the members of the Junta into this measure, filling them with such confidence in the valour of their troops, that they hoped for an easy victory over the roy- alists. Padilla, that his army misfit 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 garrison ; and though the besieged made a desperate resistance, and the admiral attempted to relieve them, he took the town by storm [March 1, 1531], and gave it up to be plundered by his soldiers. If he had marched instantly with his victorious army to Tordesillas, the head quarters 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 carrying on war or of making peace, they listened again to overtures of accommodation, and even agreed to a short suspen- sion of arms. This negotiation terminated in nothing; but while it was carrying on, many of Padilla's soldiers, unacquainted with the restraints of discipline, went off with the booty which they had got at Torrelobaton ; and others, wearied out by the unusual length of the campaign, deserted.f The constable too had leisure to assemble his forces at Burgos, and to pre~ * P. Mart. Ep. 695. 713. r. jddfB'a Tracts, i. 161. + Snnrlnv. 336. Vnr. II.— 22 1/0 THE REIGN OF THE [Book Hi. pare every thing for taking the field ; and as soon as the truce expired, Ik effected a junction with the Conde de Haro, in spite of all Padiila's efforts to prevent it. They advanced immediately towards Torrelobaton ; and Padilla, finding the number of his troops so diminished that he durst not risk a battle, attempted to retreat to Toro, which, if he could have accom- plished, 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 kingdom, might have saved him from danger. But Haro, sensible; how fatal the consequences would be of suffering him to escape, marched with such rapidity at the head of his cavalry, that he came up with him near Villalar [April 23], and, without waiting for his infantry, advanced to the attack. Padiila's army, fatigued and disheartened 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 disconcerted and intimidated raw soldiers, without facing the enemy, or making an}r 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 at 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.* The resentment of his enemies did not suffer Padilla 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, together with Don John Bravo, and Don Francis Maldonada, the former commander of the Segovians, and the latter of the troops of Salamanca. Padilla viewed the approach of death with calm but undaunted fortitude; and when Bravo, his fellow-sufferer, expressed some indignation at hearing himself proclaimed a traitor, he checked him, by observing, " That yesterday was the time to have dis- played the spirit of gentlemen, this day to die with the meekness of Chris- tians." Being permitted to write to his Avife 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 considered himself as 'a martyr for the liberties of his country. t * Sandov. 3-15, &x. P. Mart. Ep. 720. Miniana, Contin. p. 26. Epitome de la Vide y Hechos del Emper. Carlos V. por D. Juan Anton, de Vera y Zuniga, 4to, Madi. 11)27. p. 19. t 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 wife. " Senora, 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 tiling that could afford you consolation. That my enemies will not grant me, nor do I wish to delay the reception of that crown which 1 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 valued most. 1 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 his 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 may not i a suspicion, that, in order to prolong my life, I lengthen out my leUer. My sen ant Sflata, an ej witness, and to whom I have communicated my most secret thoughts, will inform you of what i cannot now write ; anil thus 1 rest, experti*!!: the instrument of your grief, and of my d< Ilveranci " EMPEROR CHARLES V. 171 Alter this, he submitted quietly to his fate. Most of the Spanish historians, accustomed to ideas of government and of regal power, very different from those upon which he acted, have heen so eager to testify their disappro- bation 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. The victory at Villalar proved as decisive as it was complete. Valla- dolid, the most zealous of all the associated cities, opened its gates immediately to the conquerors, and being treated with great clemency by the regents, Medina del Campo, Segovia, and many other towns, followed its example. This sudden dissolution of a confederacy, formed no: upon slight disgusts, or upon trilling motives, into which the whole body of the people had entered, and which had been allowed time to acquire a con- siderable degree of order and1 consistence 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 progress of the French in that kingdom, nothing could prevail on the dejected com- mons of Castile to take arms again, and to embrace such a favourable opportunity of acquiring those rights and privileges for which they had appeared so zealous. The city of Toledo alone, animated by Donna Maria Pacheco, Padilla's widow, who, instead of bewailing her husband with a womanish sorrow, prepared to revenge his death, and 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 tor the memory of her husband, se- cured her the same ascendant 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, encou- raging him to invade Castile by the offer of powerful assistance. She endeavoured by. her letters and emissaries to revive the spirit and hopes of the other cities. She raised soldiers, and exacted a great sum from the clergy belonging 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 infidels and rnemies of religion ; she marched through the streets of Toledo with her son, a young child, clad in deep mourning, seated on a mule, having a standard carried before him, representing the manner of his father's exe- cution.! By all these means she kept the minds of the people in such perpetual agitation as prevented their passions from subsiding, and rendered them insensible of the dangers to which they were exposed, by standing His Letter to the City of Toledo. " To thee, (lie crown of Spain, and the light of the whole world, free from the time of Uie 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 information, 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 shirtings 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 I 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. lean 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. 47P. * P. Mart. Ep 727. + Sandov 375 172 THE REIGN OF THE Book III. alone in opposition to the royal authority. While the army was employed in Navarre, the regents were unable to attempt the reduction of Toledo by force ; and all their endeavours, either to diminish Donna Maria's credit with the people, or to gain her by large promises and the solicitations 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 several sallies beat the royalists, and no progress was made towards reducing the place, until the clergy, whom she had highly offended by invading their property, ceased to support her. As soon as they received information of the death of William de Cro)r, 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 darnon which attended her in the form of a Negro-maid, and that by its suggestions she regulated every part of her conduct.* The credulous multitude, whom (heir impatience of a long blockade, and despair of obtaining succours either from the cities formerly in confederacy with them, or from the French, rendered des;rous of peace, took arms against her, and driving her out of the city, surrendered it to the royalists [October 26l. She retired to the citadel, which she defended with amazing fortitude four months longer ; and wben reduced to the last ex- tremities, she made her escape in disguise [February 10], and fled to Por- tugal, where she had many relations.! Tjpc-n her flight the citadel surrendered. Tranquillity was re-established In Castile ; and this bold attempt of the commons, like all unsuccessful insurrections, contributed to confirm and extend the power of the crown, which it was intended to moderate and abridge. The Cortes still con- tinued to make a part of the Castilian constitution, and was summoned to meet whenever the king stood in need of money ; but instead of adhering to their ancient and cautious form of examining and redressing public grievances, before they proceeded 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 circum- scribed 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 war ; the kingdom of Valencia was torn by intestine commotions still more violent. The association which had been formed in the city of Valencia in the year one thousand five hundred and twenty, and which was distinguished 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 arms. But as the grievances which the Valencians aimed at re- dressing, proceeded from the arrogance and exactions of the nobility, rather than from any unwarrantable exercise of the royal prerogative, their resentment turned chiefly against the former. As soon as they were allowed the use of arms, and became conscious 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, P Marl. Ep. 737. f Sandov. Sir..' P Mart. Rp. 754. Ferrrr. viii. SW I : M P E R O R C H A H L E S V . 1 73 and assaulted their castles. They then proceeded to elect thirteen per- sons, one from each company of tradesmen established in Valencia, and committed the administration of government to them, under pretext that they would reform the laws, establish 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-defence. Hostilities began, and were carried on with all the rancour with which resentment at oppression inspired the one party, and the idea of insulted dignity ani- mated 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 conducted by low mechanics, who acquired the confidence of an enraged multitude chiefly by the fierceness of their zeal and the extrava- gance of their proceedings. Among such men, the laws introduced in civilized nations, in order to restrain or moderate the violence of war, were unknown or despised ; and they run into the wildest excesses of cruelty and outrage. The emperor, occupied with suppressing the insurrection in Castile, which more immediately threatened the subversion of his power and pre- rogative, was unable to give much attention to the tumults in Valencia, and leit the nobility of that kingdom to fight their own battles. His viceroy, the Conde de Mel i to, had the 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 considerable, were extremely sharp. They repulsed them in their attempts to reduce differ- ent 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 Ger- manada. The leaders of die 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 govern- ment of Valencia was re-established in its ancient form.* In Aragon, violent symptoms of the same spirit of disaffection and sedi- tion which reigned in the other kingdoms of Spain, began to appear, but by the prudent conduct of the viceroy, Don John de Lanusa, they were so far composed, as to prevent their breaking out into any open insurrec- tion. But in the island of Majorca, annexed to the crown of Aragon, the same causes which had excited the commotion in Valencia, produced effects no less violent. The people, impatient of the hardships which they had endured under the rigid jurisdiction of the nobility, took arms in a tumultuary manner [March 19, 1521] ; deposed their viceroy, drove him out of the island; and massacred every gentleman Avho 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 requisite in order to reduce them to obedience; and tranquillity -was re-established in every part of Spain, before the Majorcans could be brought to submit to their sovereign.! While the spirit of disaffection was so general among the Spaniards, and * Argensola Annales de Aragon, cap. 75.90. 99. 118. Paves Annnles de Aragonrcap. 5. 12, &c. P. Mart. Kp. lib. xixiii.et x*xiv. passim Ferrer. Ilint.d'Kspagne, viii. 54-2. 504, 4cc. T Argen- sola Annales de Aragon, c. 113. Ferrer. Hist. viii. 543, .Saves Annales de Arasoo. c. 7. 11. 14. 7*;. 31. Ferreraa Hint. d'F..«pagTje, viii. 579, &c. 609- 174 THE REIGN OF THE . lif. so many causes concurred in precipitating them into such violent measures, in order to obtain the redress of their grievances, it may appear Btrange, that the maleeontents in the different kingdoms should have carried on their operations without any mutual 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 rendered it no less respectable among the people than formidable 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, how- ever, prevented the Spaniards from forming themselves into one body, and pursuing common measures. The people of the different kingdoms in .Spain, though they were become the subjects of the same sovereign, retained, in lull force, their national antipathy to each other. The remem- brance 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 distrusted and hated. At the same time the forms of government in the several kingdoms of Spain were so different, and the grievances of which they complained, as well as the alterations and amend- ments 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 his Spanish crowns; and while each of the kingdoms followed separate measures, they were all obliged at last to conform to the will of their sovereign. The arrival of the emperor in Spain filled his subjects who had been in arms against him with deep apprehensions, from which he soon delivered them by an act of clemency no less prudent than generous. After a rebellion so general, scarcely twenty persons, 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 published a general pardon [October 28], extending to all crimes committed since the commencement of the insurrections, from which only fourscore persons were excepted. Even these he seems to have named, rather with an intention to intimidate others, than from any inclination to seize them; for when an officious cour- tier 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 36 by his care to avoid every thing which had disgusted the Castilians during his former residence among them; by his address 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 bis enterprises with a zeal and valour to which he owed more of his suc- cess and grandeur.t About the time that Charles landed in Spain, Adrian set out for Italy to take possession of his new dignity. But though the Roman people longed • xtrcmely for his arrival, they could not, on his first appearance, conceal their surprise and disappointment. After being accustomed to the princely JiiDgnificence of Julius, and the elegant splendour of Leo, they beheld with * Sandov. 377, &c. Vida del Kmper. Carlo?, por Don Juan Anton, de Vera y Zuniea, p. 30. fJlloa Vita deCnrloV.p.85. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 175 contempt an old man of an humble deportment, and of austere manners, an oneiny to pomp, destitute of taste in the arts, anil unadorned with any of the external accomplishments which the vulgar expect in those raised to eminent stations.* Nor did his political views and maxims seem less strange and astonishing to the pontifical 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. t 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 perfect stranger to the complex and intricate system of 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 increased, until both his person and government became objects of ridicule among his subjects.J Adrian, though devoted to the emperor, endeavoured to assume the impartiality which became the common father of Christendom, and laboured to reconcile 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. 6 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 injuries 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 Italians. A great part of it was quartered in the ecclesiastical 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. || 152-J.] So much regard, however, was paid to the pope's exhortations, and to a bull which be issued, requiring all Christian princes to consent to a truce for three years, that the Imperial, the French, and English ambas- sadors at Rome, were empowered by their respective courts to treat of that matter ; hut while they wasted their time in fruitless negotiations, their masters continued their preparations for war. The Venetians, who bad hitherto 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 [June 28] ; to which Adrian, at the instigation of his countryman and friend Charles deLannov. viceroy of Naples, who persuaded him that the only obstacles to peace arose from the ambition of the French king, soon after acceded. The * Guic. I. xv. 238. .lovii \ ite Adrianl, 177. Bellefor. Epltr.desFrinc. Hi. f Guic. lib xv 240. t Jov. Vita Adr. 118. F. Mart. Kp. 771. RuscelU Lettrea dc Princ. vol. 1. 87 06 .101 fbr.Epitr.p.86. || (J.iir. i it. 938. 176 THE KEIGN OF THE [Book III. other Italian states followed their example ; and Francis was left without a single ally to resist the efforts of so many enemies, whose armies threat- ened, and whose territories encompassed, his dominions on every side.* The dread of this powerful confederacy, it was thought, would have obliged Francis to keep wholly on the defensive, or at least have prevented his entertaining any thoughts of marching into Italy. But it was the cha- racter of that prince, too apt to become remiss, 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 forsook 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 numerous 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 with much reluc- tance. The taxes he could impose were more considerable, and levied with greater despatch ; 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. Sensible of this advantage, Francis hoped to disconcert all the emperor's schemes by marching in person into the Mi- lanese ; and this bold measure, the more formidable because unexpected, could scarcely have failed of producing that effect. But when the van- guard of his army had already reached Lyons, and he himself was has- tening after it with a second division of his troops, the discovery of a domestic conspiracy, which threatened the ruin of the kingdom, obliged him to stop short, and to alter his measures. The author of this dangerous plot was Charles duke of Bourbon, lord high constable, whose noble birth, 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 services to the crown, ren- dered 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 considerable share in that monarch s favour. But unhappily Louise, the king's mother, had contracted a violent aversion to the house of Bour- bon, for no better reason than because Anne of Bretagne, the queen of Louis the XII., 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 battle of Marignano had not been sufficiently rewarded ; he had been recalled from the government of Milan upon very frivolous pretences, and had met with a cold reception, which his prudent conduct in that difficult station did not deserve ; the pa)rment 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- con. The constable, at hrst, bore these indignities with greater modera- tion than could have been expected from a high-spirited prince, conscious of what was due to his rank and to his services. Such a multiplicity ol injuries, however, exhausted his patience ; and inspiring him with thoughts oi revenge, he retired from court, and began to hold a secret correspond- • nce with some of the emperor's ministers. ibout that time the duchess of Bourbon happened to die without leaving EMPEROR CHARLES \. 1*7 any children. Louise, of a disposition no less amorous than vindictive, and still susceptihle 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 notwithstanding 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 doating fond- ness of a woman who governed 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 pretend affection for one who had per- secuted him so long with unprovoked malice, not only rejected the match, but embittered his refusal by some severe raillery on Louise's person and character. She, finding herself not only contemned but insulted, her dU- appointed love turned into hatred, and since she could not marry, she resolved to ruin Bourbon. , For this purpose she consulted with chancellor Du Prat, a man who, by abase prostitution of great talents and of superior skill in his profession, had risen to that high office. By his advice, a law-suit was commenced against the constable, for the whole estate belonging to the house of Bour- bon. Part of it was claimed in the king's name, as having fallen to th?; crown ; part in that of Louise, as the nearest heir in blood of the deceased duchess. 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 sequestered. This unjust decision drove the con stable to despair, and to measures which despair alone could have dic- tated. He renewed his intrigues in the Imperial court, and flattering him- self that the injuries which he had suffered would justify his having recourse to any means in order to obtain revenge, he offered to transfer his allegiance from his natural sovereign 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 prodigious advantages from his revolt, were ready to receive 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, sup- ported by the Flemings, to invade Picardy ; while twelve thousand Ger- mans, levied at their common charge, were to penetrate 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 kingdom. The exe- cution of this deep-laid and dangerous plot was suspended, until the king should cross the Alps with the only army capable of defending his domi- nions; and as he was far advanced in his march for that purpose, France was on the brink of destruction.! Happily for that kingdom, a negotiation which had now been carrying on for several months, though conducted with the most profound secrecy, and communicated only to a few chosen confidents, could not altogether escape the observation of the rest of the constable's numerous retainers, rendered more inquisitive by finding that they were distrusted. Two of these gave the king some intimation of a mysterious correspondence be- tween their master and the count de Koeux, 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. f Kvmcr's Feeder, xiii. 794. ' Tbumi Illflt lib i c, 10 Heutcr. Iter. Atutr. lib. vjij. r. IP, . .„,-._ Vol. II— 23 178 THE REIGN OF T H E [Book 111. kingdom to its enemies, immediately repaired to Motilities, where the con- stable was in bed, feigning indisposition that he might not be obliged to accompany the king into Italy, and acquainted him of the intelligence which he had received. Bourbon, with great solemnity, and the most im- posing affectation of ingenuity and candour, asserted his own innocence ; and as his health, he said, was now more contirmed, 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 refused to arrest him, although advised to take that precaution by his wisest counsellors ; and as if the danger had been over, he continued his march towards Lyons. The constable set out soon after [September], seemingly with an intention to follow him ; but turning suddenly to the left, he crossed the Rhone, and after infinite fatigue and peril, escaped all the parties which the king, who became sensible too late of his own credulity, sent out to intercept him, and reached Italy in safety.* Francis took every possible precaution to prevent the bad effects of the irreparable error which he had committed. He put garrisons in all the places of strength in the constable's territories. He seized all the gentle- men whom he could suspect of being his associates ; 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 Ital7- He did not, however, abandon his design on the Milanese, but appointed Admiral Bonnivet to take the supreme command in his stead, and to march into that country with an army thirty thousand strong. Bonnivet 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 agreeable manners and insinuating address, and a sprightly conversation ; and Francis, who lived in great familiarity with his courtiers, was so charmed with these qualities, that he honoured him on all occasions, with the most partial and distinguishing 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 no where so safely as in his hands. Colonna, who was intrusted with the defence of the Milanese, his own conquest, was in no condition to resist such a formidable army. He was destitute of 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 eveiy precaution necessary for the security of the country. The only plan which he formed was to defend the passage of the river Tesino 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. Bon- nivet passed the river without loss, at a ford which had been neglected, and the Imperialists retired to Milan, preparing to abandon the town as soon as the French should appear before it. By an unaccountable negli- gence, which Guicciardini imputes to infatuation,! Bonnivet did not advance tor three or four days, and lost the opportunity with which his good fortune {iresented him. The citizens recovered from their consternation j Co- onna, still active at the age of fourscore, and Morone, whose enmity to * Mem.de R<'!bv. o. 64, &<-.. Paequier Recherche* d» i.t Fran^. p. 4-1 J Gulc. lib. tv. 854. EMFEROR CHARLES V. 179 France rendered him indefatigable, were employed night and day in repairing the fortifications, in amassing provisions, 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 inclemency of the season, to retire into winter quarters. During these transactions, pope Adrian died ; an event so much to the '•atislaction of the Roman people, whose hatred or contempt of him aug- mented every day, that the night after his decease they adorned the door of his chief physician's house with garlands, adding this inscription, TO THE DELIVERER OF HIS COUNTRY* The cardinal de Medici instantly renewed his pretensions to the papal dignity, and entered the conclave with high expectations on his 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 interest, and capable of all the artifices, refinements, and corruption which reign in those assemblies, the obstinacy and intrigues of his rivals protracted the conclave to the unusual length of fifty days. The address and perseverance of the car- dinal at last surmounted every obstacle. He was raised to the head of the church [November 28], and assumed the government of it by the name of Clement VII. The choice was universally approved of. High expectations were conceived of a pope, whose great talents, and long ex- perience in business, 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 Medici. t Cardinal Wolsey, not disheartened by the disappointment of his ambi- tious views at the former election, had entertained more sanguine hopes of success on this occasion. Henry wrote to the emperor, reminding him of his engagements to second the pretensions of his minister. Wolsey be- stirred 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 end. 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 suc- ceeding as Medici ; or perhaps the cardinals durst not venture to provoke the people of Rome, while their indignation against Adrian's memory was still fresh, by placing another Ultra-montane on the papal throne. Wolsey, alter all his expectations and endeavours, had the mortification to see a pope elected, of such an age, and of so vigorous a constitution, that he could not derive much comfort to himself from the chance of surviving him. This second proof fully convinced Wolsey of the emperor's insincerity, and it excited in him all the resentment which a haughty mind feels on being at once disappointed and deceived ; and though Clement endeavoured to soothe 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 dissolved the tie which had united him to Charles, and from that moment he meditated revenge. It was necessary, 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 abl^ gradually to alienate the king's affections from the emperor. For this reason he was so far from express* * JOVll Vil Virc assembled at Nuremberg [November, 1522], 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 errors, 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.! 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 bis authority towards reforming 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.| * f-VrkoTiJ. 241 Chvlif I Ointi'i. Knmtzil, S03. * F.w-c. Ber. expot. & fnficnd. 34.5 i Ibid. 345. 184 THE Kj:H.N UF THE [Book Hi. The members of the diet, after praising Ihe pope's pious and laudable intentions, excused themselves from not executing the edict of Worms, by alleging that the prodigious increase of Luther's followers, as well as the aversion to the court of Rome among their other subjects on account of it- innumerable exactions, rendered such an attempt not only dangerous, but impossible. They affirmed that the grievances of Germany, which did not arise from imaginary injuries, but from impositions 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 effi- cacious remedy ; and in their opinion, the only remedy adequate 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 in Germany, that all whv. 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.* The nuncio, more artful than his master, and better acquainted with the political views and interests of the Roman court, was startled at the proposition of a council ; and easily foresaw how dangerous such an assem- bly might prove, at a time when many openly denied the papal authority, and the reverence and submission yieided to it visibly declined among all. For that reason 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 interest of the Roman court, than the tran- quillity of the empire, or purity of the church, remained inflexible, and continued to prepare the catalogue of their grievances to be presented to the pope.t '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.l The secular princes accordingly, for the ecclesiastics, although they gave no opposition, did not think it decent to join with them, drew up the list (so famous in the German annals] of a 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 dispensations, absolutions, and indulgences ; of the expense arising from the law-suits carried by appeal to Rome ; of the innumerable abuses occasioned by reservations, com- mendams, and annates ; of the exemption from civil jurisdiction which the clergy had obtained ; 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 circumstances that contributed to the favourable reception, or4o 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 burdens, 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.^ Instead of such severities against Luther and his followers as the nuncio had recommended, the recess or edict of the diet [March 6,1623] contain- ed only a general injunction to all ranks of men to wait with patience for tin lit terminations of the council which was to be assembled, and in th<; ' Fascic. Bet. expat, & tVmi.nrt. 34G. ' \\M. 349. J H>id. 376. ft Ibid. 354, EMPEROR UlIAREES \. llio mean time not to publish any new opinions contrary to the established doctrines of the church ; together with an admonition to all preachers to abstain trom matters of controversy in their discourses to the people, and to confine themselves to the plain and instructive truths of religion.* The reformers derived great advantage from the transactions of this diet, as they afforded them the fullest and most authentic evidence that gross corruptions prevailed in the court of Rome, and that the empire was loaded by the clergy with insupportable burdens. With regard to the former, they had now the testimony of the pope himself, that their invec- tives 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 disci- ples were accustomed to declaim. Accordingly, in all their controversial writings after this period, they often appealed to Adrian's declaration, and to the hundred grievances, in confirmation of whatever they advanced concerning the dissolute manners, or insatiable ambition and rapaciousness. of the papal court. At Rome, Adrian's conduct was considered as a proof of the most child- ish simplicity and imprudence. Men trained up amidst the artifices and corruptions of the papal court, and accustomed to judge of actions not by what was just, but by what was useful, were astonished at a pontiff, who, departing from the wise maxims of his predecessors, acknowledged disor- ders which he ought to have concealed ; and forgetting his own 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 presumptuous, 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. t For this reason the cardinals and other ecclesiastics of greatest eminence in the papal court industriously opposed all his schemes of re- formation, and by throwing objections and difficulties in his way, endea- voured 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 finding 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 intentions.^ Clement VII., his successor, excelled Adrian as much in the arts of government, as he was inferior to him in purity of life, or uprightness of intention. He was animated not only with the aversion which all popes naturally bear to a council, but havfng 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 cardinal Campeggio, an artful man, often intrusted by his predecessors with negotiations ot importance, as his nuncio to the diet of the empire assembled again at Nuremberg. Campeggio, without taking any notice of what had passed in the last meeting, exhorted the diet [February], in a long discourse, to execute the • Fasrio. fU-r. rxpot. &. tufiend. 3le * F. P?.nl. Hist of ComiO. p. 26>. P?.llavic. Higt. S» ' Juvii Vit. Adr. p. 118. Vor,. II.— 24 186 THE REIGN OF THE [Book IV. edict of Worms with vigour, as the only effectual means of suppressing Lut er's doctrines. The diet, in return, desired to know the pope s inten- tions concerning the council, and the redress of the hundred grievances. The former, the nuncio endeavoured to elude by general and unmeaning 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 con- sequence it had not been regularly laid before the present pope, Campeg- gio 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 contained many particulars extremely indecent and undutiful, and that the publishing it by their own authority 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 though an ambassador from the emperor, who was at that time very solicitous to gain the pope, warmly seconded the nuncio, with many pro- fessions of his master's zeal for the honour and dignity of the papal see. the recess of the diet [April IS] was conceived in terms of almost the same import with the former, without enjoining any additional severity against Luther and his party.* Before he left Germany, Campeggio, in order to amuse and soothe the people, published certain articles tor 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.t BOOK IV. The expulsion of the French, both out of the Milanese and the republic of Genoa, was considered by the Italians as the termination of the war between Charles and Francis ; and as they began immediately to be apprehensive of the emperor, when they saw no power remaining in Italy capable either to control or oppose him, they longed ardently for the re- establishment 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 con- tribute no longer towards increasing the emperor's superiority over his rival, which was already become the object ot their jealousy. The pope especially, whose natural timidity increased his suspicions of Charles's de- signs, endeavoured by his remonstrances to inspire him with moderation and incline him to peace. But the emperor, intoxicated with success, and urged on by his own ambition, no less than by Bourbon's desire of revenge, contemned Clement's admonitions, and declared his resolution of ordering his army to pass the Alps, and to invade Provence, a part ot his rival's dominions, where, as he least dreaded an attack, he was least prepared to resist it. His most ex- perienced ministers dissuaded him from undertaking such an enterprise with a feeble army, and an exhausted treasury : but he relied so much on having obtained the concurrence of the king of England, and on the hopes • Secfcend.286. Sleid.'Hlrt. 6«. t Fecund. 29?. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 187 which Bourbon, with the confidence and credulity natural to exiles, enter- tained of being joined by a numerous body of his partisans as soon as the Imperial troops should enter France, that he persisted obstinately in the measure. Henry undertook to furnish a hundred thousand ducats towards defraying the expense 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 enterprises proved suc- cessful, they agreed, that Bourbon, besides the territories which he had lost, should beput 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, altogether 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 eagerness 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 wa> given to the marquis de Pescara, with instructions to pay the greatest de- ference to Bourbon's advice in all his operations. Pescara passed the Alps without opposition, and entering Provence [August 19], laid siege to Mar- seilles. Bourbon had advised him rather to march towards Lyons, in the neighbourhood of which city his territories were situated, and where of course his influence 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 by his authority he overruled the constable's opinion, and directed Pescara to make the reduction of Marseilles his chief object.* Francis, who foresaw, but was unable to prevent this attempt, took the most proper precautions to defeat it. 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 fortifications, 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 industry, all the efforts of Pescara's military skill, and of Bourbon's activity and revenge, were rendered abortive. Francis, meanwhile, had leisure to assemble a powerful army under the walls ot Avignon, and no sooner began to advance towards Marseilles, than the Im- perial troops, exhausted by the fatigues of a siege which had lasted forty days, weakened by diseases, and almost destitute of provisions, retired [Sept. 19] with precipitation towards Italy 4 If, during these operations of the army in Provence, either Charles or Henry had attacked France in the manner which they had projected, that kingdom must have been exposed to the most imminent danger. But on this, as well as on many other occasions, the emperor found that the extent of his revenues was not adequate 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, and to leave part of it unexe- cuted. Henry, disgusted at Bourbon's refusing to recognise his right to the crown of France ; alarmed at the motions of the Scots, whom the solicita- tions of the French king had persuaded to march towards the borders of England ; and no longer incited by his minister, who was become extremely 'Guic. I xv. 273. fcc. M™. do BHIav. p. 80. + fiuic.1. xv 277. Ulloa Vita doll Parln V.p.O?. 188 THE REIGIv OF THE [Book IV. cool with regard to all the emperor's interests, took DO measures to support an enterprise, of which, as of all new undertakings, he had been at first ex- cessively fond.* If the king of France had been satisfied with having delivered his sub- jects from this formidable invasion, if he had thought it enough to show all Europe the facility with which the internal strength of his dominion- enabled him to resist the invasion of a foreign enemy, even when seconded by the abilities and powerful eflbrts of a rebellious subject, the campaign, not- withstanding 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 considerate : and too apt to be elated with success ; was fond of every undertaking that seemed bold and adventurous. Such an undertaking, the situation of his affairs, at that juncture, naturally presented to his view. He had under his command one of the most powerful and best 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 Pescara, with his shattered forces, could arrive there ; or if fear should add speed to their retreat, they were in no condition to make head against his fresh mid numerous troops ; and Milan would now, as in former instances, submit without resistance to a bold invader. These considerations, which were not destitute of plausi- bility, 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 composed chiefly of Swiss and Germans, to whose caprices he would be subject in all his opera- tions, 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 enter- prise. Francis 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 ; ap- pointing her, however, by way of atonement lor that neglect, to be regent of the kingdom during his absence. Bonnivet, by his persuasions, contri- buted not a little to confirm Francis in this resolution. That favourite, who strongly resembled his master in all the defective parts of his character, was led, by his natural impetuosity, warmly to approve of such an enter- prise ; and being prompted besides by his impatience to revisit a Milanese 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.f The French passed the Alps at Mount Cenis ; and as their success de- pended on despatch, they advanced 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 intention ; and being sensible that nothing but the presence of his troops could save the Milanese, marched with such rapidity, that he reached Alva on the same day that the French arrived at Vercelli. Francis, instructed by Bonnivet's error in the former campaign, advanced directly towards Milan, where the unexpected ap- proach of an enemy so powerful occasioned such a consternation and dis- order, 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 • FidriVs's Life of Wolsey. Append. No. 70, 71, 72. f Oeuvr. d* Brant, torn. vi. <2!K EMPEROR CHARLES V. 189 01 success ; and having thrown a garrison into the citadel, retired through one gate, while the French were admitted at another.* These brisk motions of the French monarch disconcerted all the schemes of defence which the Imperialists had formed. Never, indeed, did generals attempt to oppose a formidable invasion under such circumstances of disad- vantage. Though Charles possessed dominions 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 different states was so limited, and his sub- jects, without whose consent he could raise no taxes, discovered such un- willingness to burden themselves with new or extraordinary impositions, that even this small body of troops was in want of pay, of ammunition, of provisions, 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 mortgaging the revenues of Naples, procured some money, which was immediately applied towards providing the 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 engaging to serve the emperor in that dangerous exigency, without making any immediate demand of pay, that they were animated with sen- timents of honour very different from those of mercenary soldiers ; to which proposition that gallant body of men, with an unexampled generosity, gave their consent.J Bourbon having raised a considerable sum by pawning his jewels, set out for Germany, where his influence was great, that by his pre- sence he might hasten the levying of troops for the Imperial service.§ Francis, by a fatal error, allowed the emperor's generals time to derive advantage from all these operations. Instead of pursuing the enemy, who retired to Lodi on the Adda, an untenable post, which Pescara had re- solved to abandon on the approach of the French, he, in compliance with the opinion of Bonnivet, though contrary to that of his other generals, laid siege to Pavia on the Tesino [Oct. 28] ; a town, indeed, of great im- portance, 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 ex- perience, of a patient but enterprising courage, fertile in resources, am- bitious of distinguishing himself, and capable, for that reason, as well as from his having been long accustomed both to obey and to command, ot 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. During 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 ignominious state of inaction, that a pasquinade was published 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 Lombardy, and which had not been heard of since that time.l! * Mem. de Bellay, p. 81. Uuic. I. xv. 27.4. 1 Guic. 1. xv. 280. + Jovii Vit. Davali, lib. xv. p. 336. Sandov. vol. i. 6-21. CIIoh Vita dell Carlo V. p. 94, &r. Vila del Emper. Carlo? V . per Vera v y.uniga. p. 36, ft Mem. deBellnv. p. 83. H Sandov. i. 608 19a THE REIGN OF THE [BookIV. Leyva, well acquainted with the difficulties under which his countrymen laboured, and the impossibility of their facing, in the field, such ■> 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 importance 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 interior 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 season 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 Tesino, which is its chief defence on one side, a sudden inundation of the river destroyed, in one day, the labour of many weeks, and swept away all the mounds which his army had raised with infinite toil, as well as at great expense.* Notwithstanding the slow progress of the besiegers, and the glory which Leyva acquired by his gallant defence, it was not doubted but that the town would at last be obliged to surrender. The pope, who already con- sidered the French arms as superior in Italy, became impatient to dis- engage himself from his connections 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 fol- lowing 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 neigh- bour 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 invade 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 emperor of his two most powerful allies, ana at the same time having secured a passage for his own troops 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 operations of the armies in the Milanese, persuaded Lannoy to disregard Albany's motions,^ 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 engaging too rashly in chimerical and extravagant projects. By this time the garrison of Pavia was reduced to extremity ; their am- munition and provisions began to 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 * Guic. I. xv. 280. TJIIna Vita di Carlo V. p. 95. t Guic I. xv. 382. 265. i Ibid. 2&r>. Vol, ».— 25 Ita THE REiGiN OF THE [Book IV. such zeal in defence of their country, as its present situation required. .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 extraordinary expenses. Her chief care, however, was 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 f lenry, in entering into alliances with Charles or Francis, seldom followed any regular or concerted plan of policy, but was influenced chiefly by 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 preservation of which he always boasted to be his peculiar office. He had expected that his union with the emperor might afford him an opportunity of recovering some part of those territories in France which had belonged to his ancestors, and for the sake of such an acquisition he did not scruple to give his assistance towards raising Charles to a considerable pre-eminence above Francis. He had never dreamt, however, of any event so decisive and so fatal as the victory at Favia, 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 poli- tical 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 counterpoise ; and though he himself might at first be admitted, 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 con- federate, 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 much more formidable to 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 co-operated with these political considerations ; his gallant behaviour in the battle of Pavia had excited a high degree of admiration, which never fails of augmenting sym- pathy ; and Henry, naturally susceptible of generous sentiments, was fond of appearing as the deliverer of a vanquished enemy from a state of cap- tivity. The passions of the English minister seconded the inclinations of the monarch. Wolsey, who had not forgotten the disappointment of his hopes in two successive conclaves, which he imputed chiefly to the empe- ror, thought this a proper opportunity 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 cardinal, Henry gave her secret assurances that he would not lend his aid towards oppressing France, in its present helpless state, and obliged her to promise that she would not con- sent to dismember the kingdom, even in order to procure her son's liberty.* But as Henry's connections with the emperor made it necessary to act in such a manner as to save appearances, he ordered public rejoicings to be made in his dominions for the success of the Imperial arms ; and, as it be had been eager to seize the present opportunity of ruining the French monarchy, he sent ambassadors to Madrid, to congratulate with Charles upon his victory ; 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 ' Alan, dp fjriisv. 14 Gnic. 1 ivi. 318 H EMPEROR CHARLES V. 196 ttiat, h» 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 the princess Mary into Spain or the Low-Countries, that she might be educated under the empe- ror's direction, until the conclusion of the marriage agreed on between them; and in return for that mark of his confidence, 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 extravagant demands, which it was neither his interest, nor in his power to grant. They appear ev idently to have been made with no other intention than to furnish him with a decent pretext for entering into such engagements with France as the juncture required.* It was among the Italian states, however, that the victory of Pavia occasioned the greatest alarm and terror. That balance of power on which they relied for their security, and which it had been the constant object of all their negotiations and refinements to maintain, was destroyed in a moment. They were, exposed by their situation to feel the first effects of the uncontrolled 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 dan- gerous pretensions upon each ol their territories, but might invade them with great advantage. They deliberated, therefore, with great solicitude concerning the means of raising such a force as might obstruct his pro- gress.! But their consultations, conducted with little union, and executed with less vigour, had no effect. Clement, instead of pursuing the measures which he -had concerted with the Venetians for securing the liberty of Italy, was so intimidated by Lannoy's threats, or overcome by his pro- mises, that he entered into a separate treaty [April 1], binding himself to advance a considerable sum to the emperor, in return for certain emolu- ments 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 5 to the latter, because he had been a loser by that unworthy action. J How dishonourable soever the artifice might be which was employed in order to defraud the pope of this sum, k 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 per- severance, growing insolent upon the fame that they had acquired, and impatient of relying any longer on fruitless promises, with which tbey 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, Lannoy quieted the tumultuous Germans ; but though this satisfied their present demands, he had so little prospector* 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 cap- tive king, that, not long after, he was obliged to dismiss all the Germans and Italians in the Imperial service. § Thus, from a circumstance that now appears very singular, but arising naturally from the constitution of most * Herbert, p. C4. t Guic. 1. xvi. 300. Ruscelli Lcttere de Princ. ii. 74. 76, fcc. Thuani Hist lib. j. c 11. + Guie. lib. xvi. 305. Mauioceni llistor. Venct. ap Istunclii dtll cose Vcnez. V »31 130. $ Guic. 1. ivi. p. 311-2. 196 T U E K E 1UN O F T li J . Book 1 \ . European governments in the sixteenth century, while Charles was sus- pected by all his neighbours of aiming at universal monarchy, ami while he was really forming vast projects ol this kind, his revenues wen limited, that he could not keep on loot his victorious army, though it did not exceed twenty-four thousand men. During- these transactions, Charles, whose pretensions to moderation and disinterestedness were soon forgotten, deliberated, with the utmost soli- citude, how he might derive the greatest advantages from the misfortune of his adversary. Some of his counsellors advised him to treat Francis with the magnanimity that became a victorious prince, and, instead of taking advantage 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 affection, more forcible as well as more permanent than any which could be formed by extorted oaths and involuntary stipu- lations. Such an exertion of generosity is not, perhaps, to be expected in the conduct of political 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 manner, 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 success of his arms had occasioned, he had recourse to the artifices of intrigue and negotiation. This proceeded 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 never ap- peared 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 annihilated, 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 Roeux to visit the captive king in his name, he instructed him to propose the following articles as th& 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 satisfaction 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 condi- tions, he was so transported with indignation, that, drawing his dagger hastily, he cried out, " 'Twere better 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.* This mortifying discovery of the emperor's intentions greatly augmented Francis's chagrin and impatience under his confinement, ana must have driven him to absolute despair, if he had not laid hold of the only thin? " AUin fa Bellav. 94 Ferreraa Hist. ix. 43 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 197 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 favoura- ble an opinion of the emperor's character, he offered to visit him in Spain, and was willing to be carried ihitheras a spectacle to that haughty nation. Lannoy employed all his address to confirm him in these sentiments ; 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 liberty, that he furnished the galleys necessary for conveying him to Spain, Charles being at that time unable to fit out a squadron for that purpose. The viceroy, without communicating his intentions either to Bourbon or Pescara, conducted his prisoner towards Genoa, under pretence of trans- porting 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, towards which he cast many a sorrowful and desiring look. They landed, however, in a few days at Barcelona, and soon after Francis was lodged [Aug. 24], by the emperor'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 when he began to be sensible of his having relied without foundation on the emperor's generosity, Henry VIII. concluded a treaty with the regent of France, which afforded him some hope of liberty from another quarter. Henry's extravagant de- mands 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 highiy irritated at the emperor's discontinuing his wonted caresses and pro- fessions of friendship to himself. These slight offences, added to the weighty considerations formerly mentioned, induced 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 Uiat he would employ his best offices in order to procure the deliverance of his new ally from a state of captivity.! While the open defection of such a powerful confederate affected Charles with deep concern, a secret conspiracy was carrying on in Italy, which threatened him with consequences still more fatal. The restless and in- triguing genius of Morone, chancellor of Milan, gave rise to this. His revenge had been amply gratified by the expulsion of the French out of Italy, and his vanity no less soothed by the re-establishment of Sforza, to whose interest he had attached himself in the dutchy of Milan. The delays, however, and evasions of the Imperial court, in granting Sforza the investi- ture 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 conquered in his name. Though Charles, in order to quiet the pope and Venetians, no less jealous of his designs than Morone, gave Sforza, at last, the investiture which had been so long de- sired ; the charter was clogged with so many reservations, and subjected him to such grievous burdens, as rendered the duke of Milan a dependent * Mem. de Bellay, 95. P. Mart. F;>. ult. Guk lrt> xvi. 323. 1 Herbert. Fiddeu's Life of Wolsey. 337 198 THE REIGN OF THE [Book IV. on the emperor, rather than a vassal 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 ad- dition of the Milanese to the kingdom of Naples, Avas 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 ob- served, 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 nothing 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 enterprising temper. Bourbon and Pescara were equally enraged at Lannoy's carrying the French king into Spain without their knowledge. The former, being afraid that the two monarchs might, in his absence, conclude some treaty, in which his interests would be entirely sacrificed, 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 ran- cour and contempt ; he accused him, in a letter to the emperor, of cowardice in the time of danger, and of insolence after victory, towards the obtaining of which he had contributed nothing either by his valour or his conduct ; nor did he abstain from bitter complaints against the emperor himself, who had not discovered, as he imagined, a sufficient sense oi his merit, nor be- stowed 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 nature, 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 latter took care frequently to turn the conversation to the transactions subsequent to the battle of Pavia, a sub- ject upon which the marquis always entered willingly and with passion; and Morone, observing his resentment 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 wisdom Charles was indebted for the glory of having a formidable rival in his power. Having warned him by such dis- courses, 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 country from the oppression of strangers ; that the states of Italy, weary of the ignominious and intolerable dominion 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 ensure the happy success of that noble enterprise ; that the attempt was no less practicable than glorious, it being in his power to disperse the Spanish infantry, the only body of the emperor's troops that remained in Italy, through the villages of the Milanese, that, in one night, they might be de- stroyed by the people, who, having suffered much by their exactions and insolence, would gladly undertake this service ; that he might then, without opposition, 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 disposed o1" EMPEROR CHARLES V. 199 it on many former occasions, would willingly grant him the right of investi- ture ; that the Venetians, the Florentines, the duke of Milan, to whom he had communicated the scheme together with the French, would be the guaran- tees of his right ; that the Neapolitans would naturally prefer the govern- ment 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, astonished at a blow so unexpected, would find that he had neither troops nor money to resist such a powerful confederacy.* Pescara, amazed at the boldness and extent of the scheme, listened atten- tively to Morone, but with the countenance of a man lost in profound and anxious thought. On the one hand, the infamy of betraying his sovereign, under whom he hore such high command, deterred him from the attempt ; on the other, the prospect of obtaining a crown allured him to venture upon it. After continuing a short space in suspense, 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, " Whether it was lawful for a subject to take arms against his im- mediate sovereign, in obedience to the lord paramount of whom the kingdom itself was held 7" Such a resolution of the case as he expected was soon obtained from the divines and civilians both of home and Milan ; the nego- tiation 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 dis- temper which was thought mortal, confirmed his resolution, and determined him to make known the whole conspiracy to the emperor, deemed 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 ignominious. 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 time with the pope and Sforza, both that he might discover their in- tentions 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 dishonourable office ; and was obliged to act the meanest and most disgraceful of all parts, that of seducing with a purpose to betray. Con- sidering 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 lull confi- dence on his sincerity, visited him at Novara, in order to put the 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 Pes- cara, who had so lately been his accomplice, had now the assurance to in- terrogate him as his judge. At the same time, the emperor declared Sforza to have forfeited all right to the dutchy of Milan, by his engaging in a conspiracy against the sovereign of whom he held ; Pescara, by his com- mand, seized on every place in the Milanese, except the castles of Cremona * (Juic. lib. xvi. 325. Jovit Vila Pavali, p. 417. Oruv. do Brantomo, iv. 171. Ruscelli Lettere de Princ. ii. 91. Thuani Hisf lib i.e. 11. P Hciitpr. Her. AustT. lib. ix. c. 3. p- S07. m THE REIGN OF THE [Book I\ . rt 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 sub- missive importunity. So many indignities made a deep impression on a high-spirited prince ; he began to lose all relish for his usual amusements ; his natural gayety 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 termi- nated, 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 immediately 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 sym- pathy, for which humanity and generosity had pleaded so long without effect. The emperor, less delicate, or less solicitous about reputation than his minister, set out for Madrid to visit his prisoner [Sept. 28]. The inter- view was short ; Francis being too weak to bear a long conversation, Charles accosted him in terms full of affection and respect, and gave him such pro- mises of speedy deliverance and princely treatment, as would have reflected 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, re- covering rapidly his wonted health.! He had soon the mortification to find, that his confidence in the emperor Mas not better founded than formerly. Charles returned instantly to Toledo ; all negotiations were carried on by his ministers ; and Francis was kept in as strict custody as ever. A new indignity, and that very galling, w;is 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 oi France, received his rebellious subject with the most studied respect * Guic lib. I7i. 389. Jovii Hist. 319. Capclla. lib. v. n. 200. t fi»ic- 1, xvi. 339. Sandovi Hint, i r>t>r>. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 201 [Nov. 15 j. 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 ot 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 per- mit Bourbon to reside in his palace while the court remained in Toledo, he politely replied, " That he could not refuse gratifying his sovereign in that request ;" but added, with a Castilian dignity of mind, that the em- peror must not be surprised 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 man of honour.* 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 dangerous union, had offered, before he left Italy, to marry that princess ; and as Eleanora herself discovered an inclination rather to match with a powerful monarch, than with his exiled subject ; all these interfering 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 politicians of that century, happened opportunely at this juncture [December] 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. | The chief obstacle that stood in the way of Francis's liberty was the emperor's continuing to insist so peremptorily on the restitution of Bur- gundy, as a preliminary 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 resolu- tion, the fundamental laws of the nation would prevent its taking effect. On his part he was willing to make an absolute cession to the emperor of all his pretensions in Italy and the Low-Countries ; he promised to restore to Bourbon all his lands which had been confiscated ; he renewed his pro- posal 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 between the two monarchs were now entirely lost ; there appeared, on the one hand, a rapacious ambition labouring to avail itself of every favourable circumstance ; on the other, suspicion and resentment, standing perpetually on their guard ; so that the prospect of bringing their negotiation to an issue seemed to be far distant. The dutchess of Alencon, the French king's sister, whom Charles permitted to visit her brother in his confinement, employed all her address, in order to procure his liberty on more reasonable terms. Henry of England interposed his good offices to the same purpose ; but both with so little success, that Francis in despair took suddenly the resolution of resigning his crown, with all its rights and prerogatives, to his son the * Guic. I. xvi. 333. f Saratov. IIi*t. i. 67fi. Ceuv. de i'irant. iv. 249 Vol. II.— 2fi 202 THE REIGN OF THE [Book H . dauphin, determined rather 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.* This resolution of the French king had great effect ; Charles began to be sensible that by pushing rigour to excess he might defeat his own measures ; and instead of the vast advantages which he hoped to draw from ransoming a powerful monarch, he might at last find in his hands a prince without dominions or revenues. About the same time, one of the king of Navarre's domestics happened, by an extraordinary exertion of fidelity, courage, and address, to procure his master an opportunity of escaping from the prison in which he had been confined ever since the battle of Pavia. This convinced the emperor, that the most vigilant atten- tion 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 advantages which he had been so solicitous to obtain. By these considera- tions, he was induced to abate somewhat of his former demands. On the other hand, Francis's impatience under confinement daily increased ; and having received certain intelligence of a powerful league forming against his rival in Italy, he grew more compliant with regard to 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 monarchs, the treaty which procured Francis his liberty was signed at Madrid on the fourteenth of January, one thousand five hundred and twenty-six. The article with regard to Burgundy, which had hitherto created the greatest difficulty, was compromised, Francis engaging to restore that dutchy with all it dependencies 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, that Francis should renounce all his pretensions in 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 Bourbon, and his adherents, all their goods, moveable and im- moveable, and make them full reparation for the damages 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 established 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 "This papfr ii pnhliKhnrl in Memoires Historiqaee, 5 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 hest of their cattle, as well as of their furniture ; and their heirs, in order to ohtain a renewal of the grant, were obliged to pay large sums by way of fine. These exactions, though grievous, were borne with patience, because they were customary and ancient : but when the pro- gress 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 ne- cessary 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 necessaries of life, affected the common people in the most sensible manner. The addition of such a load to their former burdens, drove them to despair. It was to the valour inspired by resentment against impositions of this kind that the Swiss owed the acquisition ot their liberty in the fourteenth century. The same cause had excited the peasants in several other provinces of Germany to rebel^ against their superiors towards the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centuries ; and though these insurrections were not attended with like success, they could not, however, be quelled without much diffi- culty and bloodshed.* By these checks, the spirit of the peasants was overawed rather than subdued ; and their grievances multiplying continually, they ran to arms, in the year one thousand five hundred and twenty-six, with the most fran- tic rage. Their first appearance was near Ulm in Suabia. The peasants in the adjacent country flocKed to their standard with the ardour and im- patience natural to men, who having groaned long under oppression, 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. j Having intimidated their oppressors, as they imagined, 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, con- taining all their demands, and declared, that while arms were in then; hands, they would either persuade or oblige the nobles to give them fieri] 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 burden 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 commons might be restrained.! Many of these demands were extremely reasonable ; 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 vassals as still continued faithful, and * Seekend. lib, ii. p. 2. 5. r IMr. Crinltua ile hello Rr.sllcsno, an. Freher. Pmpt. P«r. Gma IrgAt 17!7, vol. iii. p. 343 { Field. Hist, p 00 206 THE REIGN OF THE [Book IV . 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 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 progress; and being excited wholly by political causes, had no connection with the disputed points in religion. But the phrenzy reaching at last those countries in which the reformation was established, derived new strength from circumstances ipeculiar to them, and rose to a still greater pitch of extravagance. The reformation, 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 sup- ported 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, with- out scruple, what appeared to them erroneous, 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 reformed in several places without the per- mission 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 Lutheranism, than it assumed a new and more danger- ous form. Thomas Muncer, one of Luther's disciples, having established himself in that country, had acquired a wonderful ascendant over the minds of the people. He propagated among them the wildest and most enthu- siastic notions, but such as tended manifestly to inspire them with boldness, and lead them to sedition. "Luther," he told them, '"had done more 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 expect 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 expostulate 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 unerring hand which conducted the patriarchs of old. Let us beware, however, of offending him by our arrogance ; 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 subordination or pre-eminence."! 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 now considered as a trifling and partial reformation, not worth the contending for; it was proposed to level every distinction among mankind, and by abolishing property to reduce 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 approved of by Heaven, and that the Almighty had in a dream * Serkfnd. lib. ii. p. 10. P '"■ Sleid Hist p. 83. EMPEROR CHARLES V. £07 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 inspires. 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 destitute 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 com- mand of the elector of Saxony, the landgrave of Hesse, and duke of Bruns- wick. These princes, unwilling to shed the blood of their deluded sub- jects, 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 oppressors, nor to desert the cause of God, and of Christian liberty. But the sense of present danger making a deeper impression on the peasants than his eloquence, confusion and terror 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 elevated voice, " the sign which God has given. There is 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 noble- man who had come with the offer of pardon, and demanded to be led towards the enemy. The princes, enraged at this shocking violation of the laws of war, advanced with no less impetuosity, and began the attack [May 15] ; but the behaviour of the peasants in the combat was not such as might have been expected either from their ferocity or confidence of success; an undisciplined rabble was no equal match for well-trained troops; above five thousand 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 dastardly spirit. His death put an end to the insurrections of the peasants, which had filled Germany with such terror;* 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 exemplary prudence and moderation; like a common parent, solicitous about the welfare of both parties, without sparing the faults or errors of either. On the one hand, he addressed a monitory discourse to the nobles, exhorting them to treat their dependents with greater humanity and indulgence. On the other, he severely censured the seditious spirit of the peasants, advising them not to murmur at hardships inseparable from their condition, nor to seek for redress by any but legal means. t Luther s famous marriage with Catharine a Boria, a nun of a noble family, who, having thrown off the veil, had fled from the cloister, hap- - * Sleid. Hirt. p. 8-1. Seckend. lib. ji. p. 12. Giiodalius Tumult. Rugtican 155 * Sksd Hist. p. 67 208 THE KElGi\ OF THE [Book IV. gened this year, and was far from meeting with the same approbation. !ven 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 profane. Luther himself was sensible of the impression which it had made to bis disadvantage; but being satisfied with his own conduct, he bore the cen- Mire of his friends, and the reproaches of his adversaries, with his usual fortitude.* 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 [May 5], a more avowed and zealous, though less able patron of Luther and his doctrines. Another event happened about the same time, which, as it occasioned a considerable change in the state of Germany, must be traced back to its source. While the frenzy of the Crusades possessed all Europe during 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 trom their settlements 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 inhabitants of which were still idolaters ; and having completed the conquest of it about the middle of the thirteenth century, held it many years as a fief depending on the crown of Poland. Fierce contests arose during this period, between the grand masters of the order and the king3 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 Brandenburgh, 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 having become an early convert to Luther's doctrines, this gradually lessened his zeal for the interests of his fraternity, s*o that he took the opportunity of the con- tusions 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 oi the province which he had usurped, and transmitted it to his posterity. In process of time, this rich inheritance fell to the electoral branch of the family, all dependence on the crown of Poland was shaken off, and the margraves of Brandenburgh, 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 £reat monarchs of Europe, j Upon the return ot the French king to his dominions, the eyes of all the powers in Europe were fixed upon him, that, by observing his first motions, they might form a judgment concerning his subsequent conduct. They were not held long in suspense. Francis, as soon as he arrived at Bayonne, wrote to the king of England, thanking him for the zeal and affection wherewith he had interposed in his favour, to which he acknow- * Seckend. lib. ii. p. 15 t Sleid. Hist. p"3 rfi-flVI Miros Brant, vol. iv. p. S16, kr 7 Goic. I. xviii 4M 216 T H E K E I G N O F T 11 E [Book 1\ . diat he imputes the pope's conduct, at this juncture, wholly to infatuation, which those who are doomed to ruin cannot avoid.* Lannoy, it would seem, intended to have executed the treaty with great sincerity ; and having detached Clement from the confederacy, wished to turn Bourbon's arms against the Venetians, who, of all the powers at war with the emperor, had exerted the greatest vigour. With this view he detached a courier 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 bad 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 on Lannoy ; he was fond of mortifying a man whom he had reasons to hate ; for these reasons, without paying the least regard to the message, he continued to ravage the ecclesiastical territories, and to advance towards Florence. Upon this, all Clement's terror and anxiety returning with new force, he had recourse to Lannoy, and entreated and conjured him to put a stop to Bourbon's progress. Lannoy 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 accomplishment of the promises to which they had trusted ; their general himself could hardly restrain them ; every person in Rome perceived that nothing remained but to prepare for resisting a slorm which it was now impossible to dispel. Clement alone, relying on some ambiguous and deceitful professions which Bourbon made of nis inclination towards peace, sunk back into his former security. f Bourbon, on his part, was far from being free from solicitude. All his attempts on any place of importance had hitherto miscarried ; and Flo- rence, 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 became necessary to change his route, and to take instantly some new resolution, he fixed without hesitation 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 reasons, 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 immense booty, he would attach them for ever to his interest ; or (which is still more probable than any of these) he hoped that, by means of the poAver 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 connection with the emperor, he might take possession of Naples, or of some of the Italian states, in his own name.| Whatever his motives were, he executed his resolution with a rapidity equal to the boldness with which 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 Tus- cany 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 decisive pontiff to have taken proper measures, or to have formed any effectual plan of defence. Under Cle- ment's feeble conduct, all was consternation, disorder, 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 train- bearers of the cardinals ; he repaired the breaches in the walls ; he began * Guir. I. xviii. 44R. f Ibid. 1. xviii. 437, &r. Mem. do rieilav. p. 100. 1 Brant, iv "371. vi. 189. Belearii, Comment. 594. EMPEROR CHARLES \. 217 to erect new works ; he excommunicated Bourbon and all his troops, branding the Germans with the name of Lutherans, and the Spaniards with that of Moors.* Trusting to these ineffectual 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, determined 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 that his intentions were known, advanced with such 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 Chris- tian commonwealth, the riches of all Europe had flowed during many cen- turies, without having been once violated by any hostile hand ; and com- manding them to refresh themselves at 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 success 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 conspicuous both to his friends and to his enemies ; and as all depended on one bold impression, he led them instantly to scale the walls. Three distinct bodies, one of Germans, ano- ther of Spaniards, and the last of Ralians, 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 sup- port them as occasion should require. A thick mist concealed their approach until they reached almost the brink of the ditch, which surrounded the suburbs : having planted their ladders in a moment, each brigade rushed on to the assault with an impetuosity heightened by national emu- lation. 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, notwith- standing 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 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, not at the head of its enemies.! 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 untrained body of city recruits fled at the sight of danger, and the enemy, with irre- sistible violence, rushed into the town. During the combat, Clement was employed at the high altar of St. ♦ Seckend. lib. ii. p. 68. f Mem. de Bollav. 101. Gvfe. lib. xviii. p.445. &c. CEuv. rtr Brant, iv. 257, &r. Vol. II.— 2K 218 THE REIGN OF THE [Book IV. 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, instead of making his escape by the oppo- site gate, where there was no enemy to oppose it, he shut himself up, together with thirteen cardinals, the foreign ambassadors, and many per- sons of distinction, in the castle of St. Angelo, which, from his late mis- fortune, 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.* It is impossible to describe, or even to imagine, the misery and horror of that scene which followed. Whatever a city taken by storm can dread from military rage, unrestrained by discipline ; whatever excesses the ferocity of the Germans, the avarice of the Spaniards, or the licentious- ness of the Italians could commit, these the wretched inhabitants were obliged to suffer. Churches, palaces, and the houses of private 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 human- ity. 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 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 seve- ral 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.! After Bourbon's death, the command of the Imperial army devolved on Philibert de Chalons prince of Orange, who with difficulty prevailed on as many of his soldiers to desist from the pillage as were necessary to invest the castle of St. Angelo. Clement was immediately sensible of his error 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, Florentines, 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 hazar- dous ; and from an exquisite refinement in revenge, having marched for- ward so far, that his army being seen from the ramparts of St. Angelo, flattered the pope with the prospect of certain relief, he immediately wheeled about and retired.! Clement, deprived of every resource, and reduced to such extremity of famine as to feed on ass's flesh,§ was obliged to capitulate [June 6] on such conditions as the conquerors were pleased to prescribe. He agreed to pay four hundred thousand ducats to the army ; to surrender to the emperor all the places of- strength belonging to the church; and, besides giving hostages, to remain a prisoner 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 * Jov. Vit- Colon. 105. t Ibid. 166. Guic. lib. xviii. 440, &c. Comment, de Capta Urbe Roma, ap. Scardium, ii. 230. Ulloa Vita dell Carlo V. p. 110, &c. Giannone Hist, of Nap. B TXli. c. 3. p. 507. i Giiir. 1. *viii. 450. « Jov. Vit. Colon. 167. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 219 proof of his being qualified for that office ; and thus, by a singular acci- dent, 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 event was no less surprising than agreeable to the emperor. But in order to conceal his joy from his subjects, who were filled with horror at the success and crimes of their countrymen, and to lessen the indignation 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, disclaiming 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 employed an artifice no less hypocritical than gross ; he appointed prayers and processions through- out all Spain for the recovery of the pope's liberty, which, by an order to his generals, he could have immediately granted him.j The good fortune of the house of Austria was no less conspicuous in another part of Europe. Solyman having invaded Hungary with an army of three hundred 'thousand men, Lewis II., king of that countiy and of Bohemia, a weak and inexperienced prince, advanced rashly to meet him with a body of men which did not amount to thirty thousand. With an imprudence still more unpardonable, he gave the command ot these troops to Paul Tomorri, a Franciscan monk, archbishop of Golocza. This awk- ward 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 battle of Mohacz [August 29, 1526], 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 Hungary, 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 Jagellon, the archduke Ferdinand claimed both his crowns. This claim was founded on a double title ; the one derived 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 Hun- gary and Bohemia in such vigour, and the nobles possessed such extensive {)ower, that the crowns were still elective, and Ferdinand's rights, if they >ad 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, over- came the prejudices which the Hungarians had conceived against the arch- duke as a foreigner; and though a considerable party voted for the Vay- wode of Transylvania, at length secured Ferdinand the throne of that kingdom. The states of Bohemia imitated the example of their neigh- bour kingdom ; but iff order to ascertain and secure their own privileges, they obliged Ferdinand, before his coronation, to subscribe a deed which they termed a Reverse, declaring that he held that crown not by any pre- vious right, but by their gratuitous and voluntary election. By such a vast accession of territories, the hereditary possession of which they secured in process of time to their family, the princes of the house of Austria attained * Ruscelli Lettere di Princini. ii. 234. tSlPid.MQ. Sandov. i. 822. Manroc. Hist. Veneta, 'ib. iii. 221) < 92Q THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. that pre-eminence in power which had rendered them so formidable to the rest of Germany.* The dissensions between the pope and emperor proved extremely favourable to the progress of Lutheranism. Charles, exasperated by Cle- ment's conduct, and iully 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 held at Spires [June 25, 1526], the state of religion came to be considered ; and all that the emperor required of the princes was, that they would wait patiently, and without 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 reforming abuses in the church ; but contended that a national council held in Germany would be more effectual for that pur- pose than what he had proposed. To his advice, concerning the dis- couragement of innovations, they paid so little regard, that even during the meeting of the diet at Spires, the divines who attended the elector of Sax- ony and landgrave of Hesse-Cassel thither, preached publicly, and admin- istered the sacraments according to the rights of the reformed church. t The emperor's own example emboldened the Germans to treat the papal authority with little 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 ingrati- tude, 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 Clement's par- tiality 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.J This manifesto, little inferior in virulence to the invec- tives of Luther himself, was. dispersed over Germany with great industry, 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. BOOK V. The account of the cruel manner in which the pope had been treated filled all Europe with astonishment or horror. To see a Christian empe- ror, who by possessing that dignity ought to have been the protector and advocate of the holy see, lay violent hands on him who represented Christ on earth, and detain his sacred person in a rigorous captivity, was con- sidered as an impiety that merited the severest rengeance, and which called for the immediate interposition of every dutiful son of the Church. Francis and Henry, alarmed at the progress of the Imperial arms in Italy, had even before the taking of Rome, entered into a closer alliance ; and in order to give some check to the emperor's ambition, had agreed to make a vigorous diversion in the Low-Countries. The force of every motive which had influenced them at that time was now increased ; and to thei-e * Steph. Broderick Procancelarii Hungar. Clades in Pampo. Mohacz, ap. S< ardiiim, ii. 218. P. Barre.Htst. d' Allermgne. torn. viii. part i. p. WR t Sleid. 103. 1 Goldnst. Pnlit. Imper. p. 9Q4 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 221 were added the desire of rescuing the pope out of the emperor's hands, a measure no less politic than it appeared to he pious. This, however, ren- dered it necessary to abandon their hostile intentions against the Low- Countries, and to make Italy the seat of war, as it was by vigorous ope- rations there they might contribute most effectually towards delivering Rome, and setting Clement at liberty. Francis being now sensible that, in his system with regard to the affairs of Italy, the spirit of refinement had carried him too far; and that by an excess of remissness, he had allowed Charles to attain advantages which he might easily have prevented; was eager to make reparation for an error, of which he was not often guilty, by an activity more suitable to his temper. Henry thought his interposi- tion necessary, in order to hinder the emperor from becoming master of all Italy, and acquiring by that means such superiority of power, as would enable him for the future to dictate without control to the other princes of Europe. VVoIsey, whom Francis had taken care to secure by flattery and presents, the certain methods of gaining his favour, neglected nothing that could incense his master against the emperor. Besides all these public considerations, Henry was influenced by one of a more private nature ; having begun about this time to form his great scheme of divorcing Catherine of Aragon, towards the execution of which he knew that the sanction of papal authority would be necessary, he was desirous to acquire as much merit as possible with Clement, by appearing to be the chief instrument of his deliverance. The negotiation, between princes thus disposed, was not tedious. Wolsey himself conducted it, on the part of his sovereign, with unbounded powers. Francis treated with him in person at Amiens [July 11], where the cardinal appeared, and was received with royal magnificence. A marriage between the duke of Orleans and the princess Mary was agreed to as the basis of the confederacy ; it was resolved that Italy should be the theatre of war, the strength of the army which should take the field, as well as the contingent of troops or of money, which each prince should furnish, were settled ; and if the emperor did not accept of the proposals which they were jointly to make him, they bound themselves immediately to declare war, and to begin hostilities [Aug. 181. Henry, who took every resolution with impetuosity, entered so eagerly into this new alliance, that, in order to give Francis the strongest proof of his friendship and respect, he formally renounced the ancient claim of the English monarchs to tin crown of France, which had long been the pride and ruin of the nation ; as a full compensation for which he accepted a pension of fifty thousand crowns, to be paid annually to himself and his successors.* The pope, being unable to fulfil the conditions of his capitulation, stili remained a prisoner under the severe custody of Alarcon. The Floren- tines no sooner heard of what had happened at Rome, than they ran to arms in a tumultuous manner; expelled the cardinal di Cortona, who governed their city in the pope's name ; defaced the arms of the Medici ; broke in pieces the statues of Leo and Clement ; and declaring themselves a free state, re-established their ancient popular government. The Vene- tians, taking advantage of the calamity of their ally the pope, seized Ravenna, and other places belonging to the church, under pretext of keeping them in deposite. The dukes of Urbino and Ferrara laid hold likewise on part of the spoils of the unfortunate pontiff, whom they con- sidered as irretrievably ruined. | Lannoy, on the other hand, laboured to derive some solid benefit from that unforeseen event, which gave such splendour and superiority to his master's arms. For this purpose he marched to Rome, together with Moncada, and the marquis del Cuasto, at the head of all the troops which * Herbert, 83, &c. Rym. Fend. siv. 203 J fJnir. 1. xviii. 453 222 THE REIGN OF THE [l,^ :,k \ . they could assemble in the kingdom of Naples. The arrival of this rein- forcement brought new calamities on the unhappy citizens of Rome ; for the soldiers envying the wealth of their companions, imitated their license, and with the utmost rapacity gathered the gleanings, which had escaped the avarice of the Spaniards and Germans. There was not now any army in Italy capable of making head against the Imperialists ; and nothing more was requisite to reduce Bologna, and the other towns in the eccle- siastical state, than to have appeared before them. But the soldiers having been so long accustomed, under Bourbon, to an entire relaxation of disci- pline, and having tasted the sweets of living at discretion in a great city, almost without the control of a superior, were become so impatient of mili- tary subordination, and so averse to service, that they refused to leave Rome, unless all their arrears were paid ; a condition which they knew to be impossible. At the same time, they declared, that they would not obey any other person than the prince of Orange, whom the army had chosen general. Lannoy, finding that it was no longer safe for him to remain among licentious troops, who despised his dignity, and hated his person, returned to Naples ; soon after the marquis del Guasto and Moncada thought it prudent to quit Rome for the same reason. The prince of Orange, a general only in name, and by the most precarious of all tenures, the good will of soldiers, whom success and license had rendered capricious, was obliged to pay more attention to their humours, than they did to his com- mands. Thus the emperor, instead of reaping any of the advantages which he might have expected from the reduction of Rome, had the mortification to see the most formidable body of troops that he had ever brought into the field, continue in a state of inactivity, from which it was impossible to rouse them.* This gave the king of France and the Venetians leisure to form new schemes, and to enter into new engagements for delivering the pope, and preserving the liberties of Italy. The newly restored republic of Florence very imprudently joined with them, and Lautrec, of whose abilities the Italians entertained a much more favourable opinion than his own master, was, in order to gratify them, appointed generalissimo of the league. It was with the utmost reluctance he undertook that office, being unwilling to expose himself a second time to the difficulties and disgraces, which the negligence of the king, or the malice of his favourites, might bring upon him. The best troops in France marched under his command ; and the king of England, though he had not yet declared war against the emperor, advanced a considerable sum towards carrying on the expedition. Lau- trec's first operations were prudent, vigorous, and successful. By the as- sistance of Andrew Doria, the ablest sea officer of that age, he rendered himself master of Genoa, and re-established in that republic the faction of the Fregosi, together with the dominion of France. He obliged Alexan- dria to surrender after a short siege, and reduced all the country on that side of the Tesino. He took Pavia, which had so long resisted the arms of his sovereign, by assault, and plundered it with that cruelty, which the memory of the fatal disaster that had befallen the French nation before its walls naturally inspired. All the Milanese, which Antonio de Leyva de- fended with a small body of troops, kept together, and supported by his own address and industry, must have soon submitted to his power, if he had continued to bend the force of his arms against that country. But Lautrec durst not complete a conquest which would have been so honour- able to himself, and of such advantage to the league. Francis knew his confederates to be more desirous of circumscribing the Imperial power in Italy, than of acquiring new territories for him ; and was afraid, that if Sforza were once re-established in Milan, they would second but coldly * Gnic 1- '>' Hi; 154. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 223 the attack which he intended to make on the kingdom of Naples. For this reason he instructed Lautrec not to push his operations with too much vigour in Lombardy ; and happily the importunities of the pope, and the solicitations of the Florentines, the one for relief, and the other for protec- tion, were so urgent as to furnish him with a decent pretext for marching forward, without yielding to the entreaties of the Venetians and Sforza, who insisted on his laying siege to Milan.* While Lautrec advanced slowly towards Rome, the emperor had time to deliberate concerning the disposal of the pope's person, who still re- mained a prisoner in the castle of St. Angelo. Notwithstanding the specious veil of religion, with which. he usually endeavoured to cover his actions, Charles, in many instances, appears to have been but little under the influence of religious considerations, and had frequently, on this occa- sion, expressed an inclination to transport the pope into Spain, that he might indulge his ambition with the spectacle of the two most illustrious personages in Europe successively prisoners in his court. But the fear of giving new offence to all Christendom, and of filling his own subjects with horror, obliged him to forego that satisfaction.! The progress of the con- federates made it now necessary, either to set the pope at liberty, or to re- move him to some place of confinement more secure than the castle of St. Angelo. Many considerations induced him to prefer the former, particularly his want of the money, requisite as well for recruiting his army, as for pay- ing off the vast arrears due to it. In order to obtain this, he had assembled the Cortes of Castile at Valladolid about the beginning of the year, and having laid before them the state of his affairs, and represented the neces- sity of making great preparations to resist the enemies, whom envy at the success which had crowned his arms would unite against him, he demanded a large supply in the most pressing terms [Feb. 11] ; but the Cortes, as the nation was already exhausted by extraordinary donatives, refused to load it with any new burden, and in spite of all his endeavours to gain or to intimi- date the members, persisted in this resolution.^ No resource, therefore, remained, but the extorting from Clement by way of ransom, a sum suffi- cient for discharging what was due to his troops, without which it was vain to mention to them their leaving Rome. Nor was the pope inactive on his part, or his intrigues unsuccessful to- wards hastening such a treaty. By flattery, and the appearance of un- bounded confidence, he disarmed the resentment of cardinal Colonna, and wrought upon his vanity, which made him desirous of showing the world, that as his power had at first depressed the pope, it could now raise him to his former dignity. By favours and promises he gained Morone, who, by one of those whimsical revolutions which occur so often in his life, and which so strongly display his character, had now recovered his credit and authority with the Imperialists. The address and influence of two such men easily removed all the obstacles which retarded an accommodation, and brought the treaty for Clement's liberty to a conclusion, upon conditions hard indeed, but not more severe than a prince in his situation had reason to expect. He was obliged to advance, in ready money, a hundred thou- sand crowns for the use of the army ; to pay the same sum at the distance of a fortnight ; and at the end of three months, a hundred and fifty thousand more. He engaged not to take part in the war against Charles, either in Lombardy or in Naples ; he granted him a bull of cruzado, and the tenth of ecclesiastical revenues in Spain ; and he not only gave hostages, but put the emperor in possession of several towns, as a security for the perform- ance of these articles.§ Having raised the first moiety by a sale of eccle- siastical dignities and benefices, and other expedients equally uncanonical, * Guic. 1. xviii. 461. Bellay, 107, &c. Mauroc. Hist. Venct. lib. iii. 238 t Guic I. xvijl. 45T. i Sarotov. i. p. 814. « Guic. 1. rviii. 467, &c. 224 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. a day was fixed for delivering him from imprisonment [Dec. 6]. But Clement, impatient to be free, after a tedious confinement of six months, as well as full of the suspicion and distrust natural to the unfortunate, was so much afraid that the Imperialists might still throw in -obstacles to put off his deliverance, that he disguised himself, on the night preceding the day when he was to be set free, in the habit of a merchant, and Alarcon having remitted somewhat of his vigilance upon the conclusion of the treaty, he made his escape undiscovered. He arrived before next morning at Orvietto, without any attendants but a single officer ; and from thence wrote a letter of thanks to Lautrec, as the chief instrument of procuring him liberty.* During these transactions, the ambassadors of France and England re- paired to Spain, in consequence of the treaty which VVolsey had concluded with the French king. The emperor, unwilling to draw on himself the united forces of the two monarchs, discovered an inclination to relax somewhat the rigour of the treaty of Madrid, to which, hitherto, he had adhered inflexibly. He offered to accept of the two millions of crowns, which Francis had pro- posed to pay as an equivalent for the dutchy of Burgundy, and to set his sons at liberty, on condition that he would recall his army out of Italy, and restore Genoa, together with the other conquests which he had made in that country. With regard to Sforza, he insisted that his fate should be determined by the judges appointed to inquire into his crimes. These pro- positions being made to Henry, he transmitted them to his ally the French king, whom it more nearly concerned to examine and to answer them ; and it Francis had been sincerely solicitous either to conclude peace or preserve consistency in his own conduct, he ought instantl}' to have closed with overtures which differed but little from "the propositions which he himself had formerly made.t But his views were now much changed ; his alliance with Henry, Lautrec's progress in Italy, and the superiority of his army there above that of the emperor, hardly left him room to doubt of the success of his enterprise against Naples. Full of those sanguine hopes, he was at no loss to find pretexts for rejecting or evading what the emperor had proposed. Under the appearance of sympathy with Sforza, for whose interests he had not hitherto discovered much solicitude, he again demanded the full and unconditional re-establishment of that unfortunate prince in his dominions. Under colour of its being imprudent to rely on the emperor's sincerity, he insisted that his sons should be set at liberty before the French troops left Italy, or surrendered Genoa. The unreasonableness of these de- mands, as well as the reproachful insinuation with which they were accom- panied, irritated Charles to such a degree, that he could hardly listen to them with patience ; and repenting of his moderation, which had made so little impression on his enemies, declared that he would not depart in the smallest article from the conditions which he had now offered. Upon this the French and English ambassadors (for Henry had been drawn unaccount- ably to concur with Francis in these strange propositions) demanded and obtained their audience of leave. J Next day [Jan. 22, 1528], two heralds who had accompanied the am- bassadors on purpose, though they had hitherto concealed their character, having assumed the ensigns of their office, appeared in the emperor's court, and being admitted into his presence, they, in the name of their respective masters, and with all the solemnities customary on such occasions, de- nounced war against him. Charles received both with a dignity suitable to his own rank, but spoke to each in a tone adapted to the sentiments Avhich he entertained of their respective sovereigns. He accepted the defiance of the English monarch with a firmness tempered by some degree * Guic. 1. iviii. 467, &c. .low Vit. Colon. 100. JIauror. Ili.^t. Vcnct. lib. iii. 252. * Rccuoil des Traitez,ii. 249. ; flym. xiv-2uo. Hrrl>crt8r>. Guir. I. xviii 4~; EMPEROR CHARLES V. 225 of decency and respect. His reply to the French king abounded with that acrimony of expression, which personal rivalship, exasperated by the memory of many injuries inflicted as well as suffered, naturally suggests. He desired the French herald to acquaint his sovereign, that he would henceforth consider him not only as a hase violator of public faith, but as a stranger to the honour and integrity becoming a gentleman. Francis, too high-spirited to bear such an imputation, had recourse to an uncommon expedient in order to vindicate his character. He instantly sent back the herald with a cartel of defiance, in which he gave the emperor the lie in form, challenged him to single combat, requiring him to name the time and place of the encounter, and the weapons with which he chose to fight. Charles, as he was not inferior to his rival in spirit or bravery, readily accepted the challenge ; but after several messages concerning the arrangement of all the circumstances relative to the combat, accompanied with "mutual reproaches, bordering on the most indecent scurrility, all thoughts of this duel, more becoming the heroes of romance than the two greatest monarchs of their age, were entirely laid aside.* The example of two personages so illustrious drew such general atten- tion, and carried with it so much authority, that it had considerable influ- ence in producing an important change in manners all over Europe. Duels, as has already been observed, had long been permitted by the laws of all the European nations, and. forming a part ot their jurisprudence, were authorized by the magistrate on many occasions, as the most proper method of terminating questions with regard to property, or of deciding those which respected crimes. But single combats being considered as solemn appeals to the omniscience and justice of the Supreme Being, they were allowed only in public causes, according to the prescription of law, and carried on in a judicial form. Men accustomed to this manner of de- cisions in a court of justice, were naturally led to apply it to personal and private quarrels. Duels, which at first could be appointed by the civil judge alone, were fought without the interposition of his authority, and in cases to which the laws did not extend. The transaction between Charles and Francis strongly countenanced this practice. Upon every affront, or injury, which seemed to touch his honour, a gentleman thought himself entitled to draw his sword, and to call on his adversary to give him satis- faction. Such an opinion becoming prevalent among men of fierce courage, of high spirit, and of rude manners, when offence was otten given, and revenge was always prompt, produced most fatal consequences. Much of the best blood in Christendom was shed ; many useful lives were sacri- ficed ; and, at some periods, war itself had hardly been more destructive than these private contests of honour. So powerful, however, is the domi- nion of fashion, that neither the terror of penal laws, nor reverence for religion, have been able entirely to abolish a practice unknown among the ancients, and not justifiable by any principle of reason ; though at the same time, it must be admitted, that to this absurd custom, we must ascribe in some degree the extraordinary gentleness and complaisance of modern manners, and that respectful attention of one man to another, which at present render the social intercourses of life far more agreeable and decent, than among the most civilized nations of antiquity. While the two monarchs seemed so eager to terminate their quarrel by a personal combat, Lautrec continued his operations, which promised to be more decisive. His army, which was now increased to thirty-five thousand men, advanced by great marches towards Naples [Feb.]. The terror of their approach, as well as the remonstrances and the entreaties of the prince of Orange, prevailed at last on the Imperial troops, though with difficulty, to quit Rome of which they had kept possession during * Rcciieil des Traii^z. 2. Mem do Bollav, 103. &c. Sa'odov. Hi§?, i. 857. Vol. II — 29 ffe6 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V ten months. But of that flourishing army which had entered the city., scarcely one half remained ; the rest, cut off by the plague, or wasted by diseases, the effects of their inactivity, intemperance, and debauchery, fell victims to their own crimes.* Lautrec made the greatest efforts to attack them in their retreat towards the Neapolitan territories, which would have finished the war at one blow. But the prudence of their leaders disappointed all his measures, and conducted them with little loss to Naples. The people of that kingdom, extremely impatient to shake off the Spanish yoke, received the French with open arms, wherever they appeared to take possession ; and, Gaeta and Naples excepted, hardly any place of importance remained in the hands of the Imperialists. Trie preservation of the former was owing to the strength of its fortifications, that of the latter to the presence of the Imperial army. Lautrec, how- ever, sat down before Naples ; but finding it vain to think of reducing a city by force while defended by a whole army, he was obliged to employ the slower, but less dangerous method of blockade ; and having taken measures which appeared to him effectual, he confidently assured his master, that famine would soon compel the besieged to capitulate. These hopes were strongly confirmed by the defeat of a vigorous attempt made by the enemy in order to recover the command of the sea. The galleys of Andrew Doria, under the command of his nephew Philippino, guarded the mouth of the harbour. Moncada, who had succeeded Lannoy in the viceroyalty, rigged out a number of galleys superior to Doria's, manned them with a chosen body of Spanish veterans, and going on board himself, together with the marquis del Guasto, attacked Philippino before the arrival of the Venetian and French fleets. But the Genoese, admiral, by his superior skill in naval operations, easily triumphed over the valour and number of the Spaniards. The viceroy was. killed, most of his fleet destroyed, and Guasto, with many officers of distinction, being taken pri- soners, were put on board the captive galleys, and sent by Philippino as trophies of his victory to his uncle.f Notwithstanding this flattering prospect of success, many circumstances concurred to frustrate Lautrec's expectations. Clement, though he always acknowledged his being indebted to Francis for the recovery of his liberty, and often complained of the cruel treatment which he had met with from the emperor, was not influenced at this juncture by principles of gratitude, nor, which is more extraordinary, was he swayed by the desire of revenge. His past misfortunes rendered him more cautious than ever, and his recol- lection of the errors which he had committed, increased the natural irreso- lution of his mind. While he amused Francis with promises, he secretly negotiated with Charles ; and being solicitous, above all things, to re- establish his family in Florence with its ancient authority, which he could not expect from Francis, who had entered into strict alliance with the new republic, he leaned rather to the side of his enemy than to that of his bene- factor, and gave Lautrec no assistance towards carrying on his operations. The Venetians, viewing with jealousy the progress of the French arms, were intent only upon recovering such maritime towns in the Neapolitan dominions as were to be possessed by their republic, while they were altogether careless about the reduction of Naples, on which the success of the common cause depended.^ The king of England, instead of being able, as had been projected, to embarrass the emperor by attacking his territories in the Low-Countries, found his subjects so averse to an unne- cessary war, which would have ruined the trade of the nation, that in order to silence their clamours and put a stop to the insurrections ready to break out among them, he was compelled to conclude a truce for eight * Guic. l. xviii. 478. tGal6l.xfic.ti7. P. Heater. lib. X. c &> 231. t Goic. I xix. 491. EM PER Oft CHARLES \. za: months with the governess of the Netherlands.* Francis himself, with the same unpardonable inattention of which he had formerly been guilty, and for which he had suffered so severely, neglected to make proper re- mittances to Lautrec for the support of his army.t These unexpected events retarded the progress of the French, discou- raging both the general and his troops ; but the revolt of Andrew Doria proved a fatal blow to all their measures. That gallant officer, the citizen of a republic, and trained up from his infancy in the sea service, retained the spirit of independence natural to the former, together with the plain liberal manners peculiar to the latter. A stranger to the arts of submission and flattery necessary in courts, but conscious at the same time of his own merit and importance, he always offered his advice with freedom, and often preferred his complaints and remonstrances with boldness. The French ministers, unaccustomed to such liberties, determined to ruin a man who treated them with so little deference ; and though Francis himself had a just sense of Doria's ser- vices, as well as a high esteem for his character, the courtiers,. by continu- ally representing him as a man haughty, untractable, and more solicitous to aggrandize himself, than to promote the interest of France, gradually undermined the foundations of his credit, and tilled the king's mind with suspicion and distrust. From thence proceeded several affronts, and indignities put upon Doria. His appointments were not regularly paid ; his advice, even in naval affairs, was often slighted ; an attempt was made to seize the prisoners taken by his nephew in the sea-fight ofl Naples ; all which he bore Avith abundance of ill humour. But an injury offered to his country transported him beyond all bounds of patience. The French began to fortify Savona, to clear its harbour, and removing thither some branches of trade carried on at Genoa, plainly showed that they intended to render that town, which had been so long the object of jealousy and hatred to the Genoese, their rival in wealth and commerce. Doria, animated with a patriotic zeal for the honour and interest of his country, remonstrated against this in the highest tone, not without threats, if the measure were not instantly abandoned. This hold action, aggravated by the malice of the courtiers, and placed in the most odious light, irritated Francis to such a degree, that he commanded Barbesieux, whom he ap- pointed admiral of the Levant, to sail directly to Genoa with the French fleet, to arrest Doriarand to seize his galleys. This rash order, the execu- tion of which could have been secured only by the most profound secrecy, was concealed with so little care, that Doria got timely intelligence of it, and retired with all his galleys to a place of safety. Guasto, his prisoner, who had long observed and fomented his growing discontent, and had often allured him by magnificent promises to enter into the emperor's ser- vice, laid hold on this favourable opportunity. While his indignation and resentment were at their height, he prevailed on him to despatch one of his officers to the Imperial court with his overtures and demands. The negotiation was not long ; Charles, fully sensible of the importance of such an acquisition, granted him whatever terms he required. Doria sent back his commission, together with the collar of St. Michael, to Francis, and hoisting the Imperial colours, sailed with all his galleys towards Naples, not to block up the harbour of that unhappy city, as he had formerly en- gaged, but to bring them protection and "deliverance. His arrival opened the communication with the sea, and restored plenty in Naples, Avhich was now reduced to the last extremity ; and (he French having lost their superiority at sea, were soon reduced to great straits for want of provisions. The prince of Orange, who succeeded the viceroy in the command of the Imperial army, showed himself by his prudent * Herbert, 90. Rymer, 14. 058. + Ouir. 1. xvit'i. 478. gg8 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. conduct worthy of that honour which his good fortune and the death of his generals had twice acquired him. Beloved by the troops, who, re- membering the prosperity which they had enjoyed under his command, served him with the utmost alacrity, he let slip no opportunity of harassing the enemy, and by continual alarms or sallies fatigued and weakened them.*' As an addition to all these misfortunes, the diseases common in that country during the sultry months, began to break out among the French troops. The prisoners communicated to them the pestilence which the Imperial army had brought to Naples from Rome, and it raged with such violence, that few, either officers or soldiers, escaped the infection. Of the whole army, not four thousand men, a number hardly sufficient to defend the camp, were capable of doing duty ;| and being^ now besieged in their turn, they suffered all the miseries from which the Imperialists were delivered. Lautrec, after struggling long with so many disappointments and calamities, which preyed on his mind at the same time that the pestilence wasted his body, died [August 15j, lamenting the negligence of his sovereign, and the infidelity of his allies, to which so many brave men had fallen victims.! By his death, and the indisposition of the other generals, the command devolved on the marquis de Saluces, an officer altogether unequal to such a trust. He, with troops no less dispirited than reduced, retreated in dis- order to Aversa; which town being invested by the prince of Orange, Saluces was under the necessity of consenting, that he himself should remain a prisoner of war, that his troops should lay down their arms and colours, give up their baggage, and march under a guard to the frontiers of France. By this ignominious capitulation, the wretched remains of the French army were saved ; and the emperor, by his own perseverance and the good conduct of Kis generals, acquired once more the superiority in Italy. § The loss of Genoa followed immediately upon the ruin of the army in Naples. To deliver his country from the dominion of foreigners was Doria's highest ambition, and had been his principal inducement to quit the service of France, and .enter into that of the emperor. A most favourable opportunity for executing this honourable enterprise now pre- sented itself. The city of Genoa, afflicted by the pestilence, was almost deserted by its inhabitants ; the French garrison, being neither regularly paid nor recruited, was reduced to an inconsiderable number ; Doria s emissaries found that such of the citizens as remained, being weary alike of the French and Imperial yoke, the rigour of which they had alternately felt, were ready to welcome him as their deliverer, and to second all his measures. Things wearing this promising aspect, he sailed towards the coast of Genoa; on his approach the French galleys retired ; a small body of men which he landed surprised one of the gates of Genoa in the night- time ; Trivulci, the French governor, with his feeble garrison, shut him- self up in the citadel, and Doria took possession of the town without bloodshed or resistance [September 12]. Want of provisions quickly obliged Trivulci to capitulate ; the people, eager to abolish such an odious monument of their servitude, ran together with a tumultuous violence, and levelled the citadel with the ground. It was now in Doria's power to have rendered himself the sovereign of his country, which he had so happily delivered from oppression. The fame of his former actions, the success of his present attempt, the attach- ment of his friends, the gratitude of his countrymen, together with the support of the emperor, all conspired to facilitate his attaining the supreme authority, and invited him to lay hold of it. But with a magnanimity of * Jovii Hist. lib. xxxvi. p.31,&c. Sigonii Vita Poriir.p. 1139. Ben ay, 114, &c. t Bella;/, 117, «te. * P. Heuter. Rerum Aastr.lih. x. c. -2 2:*1 . $ Bellay, 11", fcc. Jovn flist. lib. xxv. rxvl. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 229 which there are few examples, he sacrificed all thoughts of aggrandizing himself to the virtuous satisfaction of establishing liberty in his country, the highest object at which ambition can aim. Having assembled the whole body of the people in the court before his palace, he assured them, that the happiness of seeing them once more in possession of freedom was to him a full reward for all his services; that, more delighted with the name of citizen than of sovereign, he claimed no pre-eminence or power above his equals ; but remitted entirely to them the right of settling what form of government they would now choose to be established among them. The people listened to him with tears of admiration and of joy. Twelve persons were elected to new model the constitution of the republic. The influence of Doria's virtue and example communicated itsell to his countrymen ; the factions which had long torn and ruined the state seemed to be forgotten ; prudent precautions were taken to prevent their reviving ; and the same form of government which has subsisted with little variation since that time in Genoa was established with universal applause. Doria lived to a great age, beloved, respected, and honoured by his countrymen; and adhering uniformly to his professions of moderation, without arrogating any thing unbecoming a private citizen, he preserved a great ascendant over the councils of the republic, which owed its being to his generosity. The authority which he possessed was more flattering, as well as more satisfactory, than that derived from sovereignty ; a dominion founded in love and in gratitude ; and upheld by veneration for his virtues, not by the dread of his power. His memory is still reverenced by the Genoese, and he is distinguished in their public monuments, and celebrated in the works of their historians, by the most honourable of all appellations, THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY, AND THE RESTORER OF ITS LIBERTY* 1529.] Francis, in order to recover the reputation of his arms, discredited by so many losses, mr>de new efforts in the Milanese. But the count of St. Pol, a rash and inexperienced officer, to whom he gave the command, was no match for Antonio de Leyva, the ablest of the Imperial generals. He, by his superior skill in war, checked with a handful of men, the brisk, but ill-concerted motions of the French ; and though so infirm himself that he was carried constantly in a litter, he surpassed them, when occasion required, no less in activity than in prudence. By an unexpected march he surprised, defeated, and took prisoner the count of St. Pol, ruining the French army in the Milanese as entirely as the prince of Orange had ruined that which besieged Naples.! Amidst these vigorous operations in the field, each party discovered an impatient desire of peace, and continual negotiations were carried on for that purpose. . The French king, discouraged, and almost exhausted, by so many unsuccessful enterprises, was reduced now to think of obtaining the release of his sons by concessions, not by the terror of his arms. The pope hoped to recover by a treaty whatever he had lost in the war. The emperor, notwithstanding the advantages which he had gained, had many reasons to make him wish for an accommodation. Solyman, having over- run Hungary, was ready to break in upon the Austrian territories with the whole force of the East. The reformation gaining ground daily in Ger- many, the princes who favoured it had entered into a confederacy which Charles thought dangerous to the tranquillity of the empire. The Spa- niards murmured at a war of such unusual length, the weight of which rested chiefly on them. The variety and extent of the emperor's operations far exceeded wh:it his revenues could support ; his success hitherto had been owing chiefly to his own good fortune and to the abilities of hb * Guic. 1. xix. p. 498. Sigonii Vita Doriae, p. 1146. Jovii. Uiat lib. xxri. p. 36, &r. \ Gufr. >.xts.520. P. Mputrr. Iter. Auslr. Tib.* c. 3 {>.233. Mrm. rte Betlay, 121, 230 THE REIGN -OF. THE [Book V. generals, nor could he flatter himself that they, with troops destitute of every thing necessary, would always triumph over enemies still in a con- dition to renew their attacks. All parties, however, were at equal pain- to conceal or to dissemble their real sentiments. The emperor, that his inability to carry on the war might not be suspected, insisted on high terms in the tone of a conqueror. The pope, solicitous not to lose hi^ present allies before he came to any agreement with Charles, continued to make a thousand protestations of fidelity to the former, while he privately negotiated with the latter. Francis, afraid that his confederates might prevent him by treating for themselves with the emperor, had recourse to many dishonourable artifices, in order to turn their attention from the measures which he was taking to adjust all differences with his rival. In this situation of affairs, when all the contending powers wished for peaoe, but durst not venture too hastily on the steps necessary for attain- ing it, two ladies undertook to procure this blessing so much desired by aliEurope [May]. These were Margaret of Austria, duchess-dowager of Savoy, the emperor's aunt, and Louise, Francis's mother. They agreed on an interview at Cambray, and being lodged in two adjoining houses, between which a communication was opened, met together without cere- mony or observation, and held daily conferences, to which no person whatever was aumitted. As both were profoundly skilled in business, thoroughly acquainted with the secrets of their respective courts, and pos- sessed with perfect confidence in each other, they soon made great pro- gress towards a final accommodation, and the ambassadors of all the con- federates waited in anxious suspense to know their fate, the determination ©f which was entirely in the hands of those illustrious negotiators.* But whatever diligence they used to hasten forward a general peace, the pope had the address and industry to get the start of his allies, by concluding at Barcelona a particular treaty for himself [June 20]. • The emperor, impatient to visit Italy in his way to Germany, and desirous of re-establishing tranquillity in the one country, before he attempted to com- pose the disorders which abounded in the other, found it necessary to secure at least one alliance among the Italian states, on which he might depend. That with Clement, who courted it with unwearied importu- nity, seemed more proper than any other. Charles being extremely soli- citous to make some reparation for the insults which he had offered to the sacred character of the pope, and to redeem past offences by new merit, granted Clement, notwithstanding all his misfortunes, terms more favour- able than he could have expected after a continued series of success. Among other articles, he engaged to restore all the territories belonging to the ecclesiastical state ; to re-establish the dominion of the Medici in Flo- rence ; to give his natural daughter in marriage to Alexander the head of that family ; and to put it in the pope's power to decide concerning the fate of Sforza, and the possession of the Milanese. In return for these ample concessions, Clement gave the emperor the investiture of Naples without the reserve of any tribute, but the present of a white steed, in acknowledgment of his sovereignty; absolved all who had been con- cerned in assaulting and plundering Rome, and permitted Charles and his brother Ferdinand to levy the fourth of the ecclesiastical revenues through- out their dominions. t The account of this transaction quickened the negotiations at Cambray, and brought Margaret and Louise to an immediate agreement [Aug. 5]. The treaty of Madrid served as the basis of that which they concluded, the latter being intended to mitigate the rigour of the former. The chief articles were, That the emperor should not, for the present, demand the restitution of Burgundy, reserving however, in full force, his rights and * Hfeuter R<:r Anetr. tit;, x. c- 3. 133. Mrtn. dc Rellay. p. 198 + Gufc I. iftt. 59B. EMPEROR CHARLES \. 231 pretensions to that dutchy ; That Francis should pay two millions of crowns as the ransom of his sons, and, before they were set at liberty, should restore such towns as he still held in the Milanese ; That he should resign his pretensions to the sovereignty of Flanders and of Artois ; That he should renounce all his pretensions to Naples, Milan, Genoa, and every other place beyond the Alps; That he should immediately consummate the marriage concluded between him and the emperor's sister Eleanora.* Thus Francis, chiefly from his impatience to procure liberty to his sons, sacrificed every thing which had at first prompted him to take arms, or which had induced him, by continuing hostilities during nine successive campaigns, to protract the war to a length hardly known in Europe before the establishment of standing armies, and the imposition of exorbitant taxes, became universal. The emperor, by this treaty, was rendered sole arbiter of the fate of Italy ; he delivered his territories in the Netherlands from an unpleasant badge of subjection ; and after having baffled his rival in the field, he prescribed to him the conditions of peace. The different conduct and spirit with which the two monarchs carried on the operations of war, led naturally to such an issue of it. Charles, inclined by temper as well as obliged by his situation, concerted all his schemes with caution, pursued them with perseverance, and observing circumstances and events with attention, let none escape that could be improved to advantage. Francis, more enterprising than steady, undertook great designs with warmth, but often executed them with remissness ; and diverted by his pleasures, or deceived by his favourites, he lost on several occasions the most promising opportunities of success. Nor had the character of the two rivals themselves greater influence on the operations of war, than the opposite qualities of^the generals whom they employed. Among the Imperialists, valour tempered with prudence ; fertility of invention aided by experience ; discernment to penetrate the designs of their enemies ; a provident sagacity in conducting their own measures ; in a word, all the talents which form great commanders and ensure victory, were conspicu- ous. Among the French, these qualities were either wanting, or the very reverse of them abounded ; nor could they boast of one man (unless we except Lautrec, who was always unfortunate) that equalled the merit of Pescara, Leyva, Guasto, the prince of Orange, and other leaders, whom Charles had to set in opposition to them. Bourbon, Morone, Doria, who by their abilities and conduct might have been capable of balancing the f inferiority which the Imperialists had acquired, were induced to abandon the service of Fiance, by the carelessness of the king, and the malice or injustice of his counsellors ; and the most fatal blows given to France during the progress of the war, proceeded from the despair «nd resent- ment of these three persons. The hard conditions to which Francis was obliged to submit were not the most afflicting circumstances to him in the treaty of Cambray. He lost his reputation and the confidence of all Europe, by abandoning his allies to his rival. Unwilling to enter into the details necessary for adjust- ing their interests, or afraid that whatever he claimed for them must have been purchased by farther concessions on his own part, he gave them up in a body ; and without the least provision in their behalf, left the Vene- tians, the Florentines, the duke of Ferrara, together with such of the Nea- politan barons as had joined his army, to the mercy of the emperor. They exclaimed loudly against this base and perfidious action, of which Francis himself was so much ashamed, that in order to avoid the pain of hearing from their ambassadors the reproaches which he justly merited, it was some time before he would consent to allow them an audience. Charles, on the other hand, was attentive to the interest of every person r Heater. Her. Anelr. lib. x. r 3. p. 934. ^anrfnv. Hist. . 235. EMPEROR CHARLES V. #33 the emperor's power, he, in order to secure that, not only offered do remonstrances against the total neglect of their allies, in the treaty of Cambray, but made Francis the present of a large sum, as a brotherly contribution towards the payment of the ransom for his sons.* Soon after the treaty of peace was concluded, the emperor landed in Italy with a numerous train of the Spanish nobility, and a considerable body of troops [Aug. 12]. He left the. government of Spain, during his absence, to the empress Isabella. By his long residence in that country, he had acquired such thorough knowledge of the character of the people, • that he could perfectly accommodate the maxims of his government to their genius. He could even assume, upon some occasions, such popular manners, as gained wonderfully upon the Spaniards. A striking instance of his disposition to gratify them had occurred a few days before he em- barked for Italy: he was to make his public entry into the city of Barce- lona ; and some doubts having arisen among the inhabitants, whether they should receive him as emperor, or as count of Barcelona ; Charles instantly decided in favour of the latter, declaring that he was more proud of that ancient title, than of his Imperial crown. Soothed with this flattering ex- pression of his regard, the citizens welcomed him with acclamations of joy, and the states of the province swore allegiance to his son Philip, as heir of the county of Barcelona. A similar oath had been taken in all the kingdoms of Spain, with equal satisfaction.! The emperor appeared in Italy with the pomp and power of a con- queror. Ambassadors from all the princes and states of that country- attended his court, waiting to receive his decision, with regard to their fate. At Genoa, where he first landed, he was received with the acclama- tions due to the protector of their liberties. Having honoured Doria with many marks of distinction, and bestowed on the republic several new privileges, he proceeded to Bologna, the place fixed upon for his interview with the pope [Nov. 5]. He affected to unite in his public entry into that city the state and majesty that suited an emperor, with the humility becoming an obedient son of the church ; and while at the head of twenty thousand veteran soldiers, able to give law to all Italy, he kneeled down to kiss the feet of that very pope whom he had so lately detained a }>risoner. The Italians, after suffering so much from the ferocity and icentiousness of his armies, and after having been long accustomed to form in their imagination a picture of Charles, which bore some resemblance to that of the barbarous monarchs of the Goths or Huns, who had formerly afflicted their country with like calamities, were surprised to see a prince of a graceful appearance, affable and courteous in his deportment, of regular manners, and of exemplary attention to all the offices of religion, j They were still more astonished when he settled all the concerns of the princes and states which now depended on him, with a degree of moderation and equity much beyond what they had expected. Charles himself, when he set out from Spain, far from intending to give any such extraordinary proof of his self-denial, seems to have been resolved to avail himself to the utmost of the superiority which he had acquired in Italy. But various circumstances concurred in pointing out the necessity of pursuing a very different course. The progress of the Turkish sultan, who, after overrunning Hungary, had penetrated into Austria [Sept. 13], and laid siege to Vienna with an army of a hundred and fifty thousand men, loudly called upon him to collect his whole force to oppose that torrent ; and though the valour of the Germans, the prudent conduct of Ferdinand, together with the treachery of the vizier [Oct. 16], soon obliged Solyman to abandon that enterprise with disgrace and loss, * Herbert Mem de Bellay, p. 123. ! Sandov. ii. p. 50. Ferrer, tz, 116. ♦ Pamtov. Hist, dell Emp. Carl. V. ii. 50. 53, &c. Vol. IT.— 30 234 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V . the religious disorders still growing in Germany, rendered the presence of the emperor highly necessary there.* The Florentines, instead of giving their consent to the re-establishment of the Medici, which, by the treaty of Barce- lona, the emperor had bound himself to procure, were preparing to defend their liberty by force of arms ; the preparations for his journey had involved him in unusual expenses ; and on this as well as many other occasions, the multiplicity of his affairs, together with the narrowness of his revenues, obliged him to contract the schemes which his boundless ambition was apt to form, and to forego present and certain advantages, that he might guard against more remote but unavoidable dangers. Charles, from all these considerations, finding it necessary to assume an air of moderation, acted his part with a good grace. He admitted Sforza into his presence, and not only gave him a full pardon of all past offences, but granted him the investiture of the dutchy, together with his niece the king of Denmark's daughter in marriage. He allowed the duke of Ferrara to keep possession of all his dominions, adjusting the points iri dispute between him and the pope with an impartiality not very agreeable to the latter. He came to a final accommodation with the Venetians, upon the reasonable condition ol their restoring whatever they had usurped during the late war, either in the Neapolitan or papal territories. I-n return for so many concessions, he exacted considerable sums from each of the powers with whom he treated, which they paid without reluctance, and which afforded him the means of proceeding on his journey towards Germany, with a magnificence suitable to his dignity. | , 1530.] These treaties, which restored tranquillity to Italy after a tedious war, the calamities of which had chiefly affected that country, were published at Bologna with great solemnity on the first day of the year one thousand five hundred and thirty, amidst the universal acclamations of the people, applauding the emperor, to whose moderation and generosity, they ascribed the blessings of peace which they had so long desired. The Florentines alone did not partake of this general joy. Animated with a zeal for liberty more laudable than prudent, they determined to oppose the restoration of the Medici. - The Imperial army had already entered their territories, and formed the siege of their capital. But though deserted by all their allies, and left without any hope of succour, they defended themselves many months with an obstinate valour worthy of better success ; and even when they surrendered, they obtained a capitulation which gave them hopes of securing some remains of their liberty. But the emperor, from his desire to gratify the pope, frustrated all their expectations, and abolishing their ancient form of government, raised Alexander di Medici to the same absolute dominion over that state, which his family have retained to the present times. Philibert de Chalons, prince of Orange, the Imperial general, was killed during this siege. His estate and titles descended to his sister Claude de Chalons, who was married to Rene, count of Nassau, and she transmitted to her posterity of the house of Nassau the title of princes of Orange, which, by their superior talents and valour, they have rendered so illustrious. J After the publication of the peace at Bologna, and the ceremony of his coronation as king of Lombardy, and emperor of the Romans [Feb. 22 snd 24], which the pope performed with the accustomed formalities, nothing detained Charles in Italy ;§ and he began to prepare for his journey to Germany. His presence became every day more necessary in that country, and was solicited with equal importunity by the catholics and by the favourers of the new doctrines. During that long interval of tran- * Sleidan, 121. Guic. I. xx. 550. } £andov. ii. 55, &c. t Guic I. xx. p. 341. &c P, Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. ji. r. 4. p. 23G. ft H. Cornel. Aerippa <}e Hiipliri coronation* Car. V. ;ip. S.arii. ii. ?«e. EMPEROR CHARLES V. *Z6 quillity, which the absence of the emperor, the contests between him and the pope, and his attention to the war with France, afforded them, the latter had gained much ground. Most of the princes who had embraced Luther's opinions, had not only established in their territories that form of worship which he approved, but had entirely suppressed the rights of the Romish church. Many of the free cities had imitated their conduct. Almost one half of the Germanic body had revolted from the papal see ; and its authority, even in those provinces which had not hitherto shaken off the yoke, was considerably weakened, partly by the example of revolt in the neighbouring states, partly by the secret progress of the reformed doctrine even in those countries where it was not openly embraced. Whatever satisfaction the emperor, while he was at open enmity with the see of Rome, might have felt in those events which tended to mortify and em- barrass the pope, he could not help perceiving now, that the religious divisions in Germany would, in the end, prove extremely hurtful to the Imperial authority. The weakness of former emperors had suffered the great vassals of the empire to make such successful encroachments upon their power and prerogative, that during the whole course of a war, which had often required the exertion of his utmost strength, Charles hardly drew any effectual aid from Germany, and found that magnificent titles or obsolete pretensions were almost the only advantages which he had gained by swaying the Imperial sceptre. He became Tully sensible, that if he did not recover in some degree the prerogatives which his pre- decessors had lost, and acquire the authority as well as possess the name, of head of the empire, his high dignity would contribute more to obstruct than to promote his ambitious schemes. Nothing, he saw, was more essential towards attaining this, than to suppress opinions which might form new bonds of confederacy among the princes of the empire, and unite them by ties stronger and more sacred than any political connection. Nothing seemed to lead more certainly to the accomplishment of his design, than to employ zeal for the established religion, of which he was the natural protector, as the instrument of extending his civil authority. Accordingly, a prospect no sooner opened of coming to an accommodation with the pope, than, by the emperor's appointment, a diet of the empire was held at Spires [March 15, 1529], in order to take into consideration the state of religion. The decree of the diet assembled there in the year one thousand five hundred and twentj'-six, which was almost equivalent to a toleration of Luther's opinions, had given great offence to the rest of Christendom. The greatest delicacy of address, however, was requisite in proceeding to any decision more rigorous. The minds of men kept in perpetual agitation by a controversy carried on, during twelve years, with- out intermission of debate, or abatement of zeal, were now inflamed to a high degree. They were accustomed to innovations, and saw the boldest of them successful. Having not only abolished old rites, but substituted new forms in their place, they were influenced as much by attachment to the system which they had embraced, as by aversion to that which they had abandoned. Luther himself, of a spirit not to be worn out by the length and obstinacy of the combat, or to become remiss upon success, continued the attack with as much vigour as he had begun it. His dis- ciples, of whom many equalled him in zeal, and some surpassed him in learning, were no less capable than their master to conduct the controversy in the properest manner. Many of the laity, some even of the princes trained up amidst these incessant disputations, and in the habit of listening to the arguments of the contending parties, who alternately appealed to them as judges, came to be profoundly skilled in all the questions which were agitated, and, upon occasion, could show themselves not inexpert in any of the arts with which these theological encounters were managed It was obvious from nil these circumstances, that any violent decision of 236 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. the diet must have immediately precipitated matters into confusion, and have kindled in Germany the flames of a religious war. AH, therefore, that the archduke, and the other commissioners appointed by the emperor, demanded of the diet, was, to enjoin those states of the empire which had hitherto obeyed the decree issued against Luther at Worms, in the year one thousand five hundred and twenty-four, to persevere in the observation of it, and to prohibit the other states from attempting any farther innova- tion in religion, particularly from abolishing the mass, before the meeting of a general council. After much dispute, a decree to that effect was approved of by a majority of voices.* The elector of Saxony, the marquis of Brandenburgh, the landgrave of Hesse, the dukes of Lunenburgh, the prince of Anhalt, together with the deputies of fourteen Imperial or free cities,! entered a solemn protest against this decree, as unjust and impious [April 19]. On that account they were distinguished by the name of PROTEST ANT.S,| an appella- tion which has since become better known, and more honourable, by its being applied indiscriminately to all the sects, of whatever denomination, which have revolted from the Roman see. Not satisfied with this decla- ration of their dissent from the decree of the diet, the protestants sent ambassadors into Italy, to lay their grievances before the emperor, from whom they met with the most discouraging reception. Charles was at that time in close union with the pope, and solicitous to attach him invio- lably to his interest. During their long residence at Bologna, they held many consultations concerning the most effectual means of extirpating the heresies which had sprung up in Germany. Clement, whose cautious and timid mind the proposal of a general council filled with horror, even beyond what popes, the constant enemies of such assemblies, usually feel, employed every argument to dissuade the emperor from consenting to that measure. He represented general councils as factious, ungovernable, pre- sumptuous, formidable to civil authority, and too slow in their operations to remedy disorders which required an immediate cure. Experience, he said, had now taught both the emperor and himself, that forbearance and lenity, instead of soothing the spirit of innovation, had rendered it more enterprising and presumptuous ; it was necessary, therefore, to have recourse to the rigorous methods which such a desperate case required ; Leo's sen- tence of excommunication, together with the decree of the diet at Worms, should be carried into execution, and it was incumbent on the emperor to employ his whole power, in order to overawe those, on whom the reve- rence due either to ecclesiastical or civil authority had no longer any influence. Charles, whose views were very different from the pope's, and who became daily more sensible how obstinate and deep-rooted the evil was, thought of reconciling the protestants by means less violent, and con- sidered the convocation of a council as no improper expedient for that pur- pose ; but promised, if gentler arts failed of success, that then he would exert himself with rigour to reduce to the obedience of the holy see those stubborn enemies of the catholic faith. § Such were the sentiments with which the emperor set out for Germany, having already appointed a diet of the empire to be held at Augsburg [March 22, .530], In his journey towards the city, he had many oppor- tunities of observing the disposition of the Germans with regard to the points in controversy, and found their minds every where so much irri- tated and inflamed, as convinced him, that nothing tending to severity or rigour ought to be attempted, until all other measures proved ineffectual. He made his public entry into Augsburg with extraordinary pomp * Sleid. Hist. 117. t The fourteen cities were Sttnsburg, Nuremberg, TJIm, «--onstance, Rtutlingen, Winitslieim, Meinengen, Lindaw, Kempten, H li bion, Isna, Wisscmburg, Nordlingen, and St. Gal. 191eid.HJ4t.119. F. Paul. Hist. p. 45. — ckend. ii. 1275. $ f. Paul, xlvil. Seek. fib. ti. 142. Hist, de ronCcvs. d'Anxburgh. par T>. CfcytrCDB, 4to. Antw. 1572. p. (?. EMPEROR CHARLES V. m [June 15], and found there such a full assembly of the members of the diet, as was suitable both to the importance of the affairs which were to come under their consideration, and to the honour of an emperor, who, after a long absence, returned to them crowned with reputation and success. His presence seems to have communicated to all parties an unusual spirit of moderation and desire of peace. The elector of Saxony would not permit Luther to accompany him to the diet, lest he should offend the emperor by bringing into his presence a person excommunicated by the pope, and who had been the author of all those dissensions which it now appeared so difficult to compose. At the emperor's desire, all the protestant princes forbade the divines who accompanied them to preach in public during their residence at Augsburgh. For the same reason they employed Melancthon, the man of the greatest learning, as well as the most pacific and gentle spirit among the reformers, to draw up a confession of their faith, expressed in terms as little offensive to the Roman Catholics, as regard for truth would permit. Melancthon, who seldom suffered the rancour of contro- versy to envenom his style, even in writings purely polemical, executed a task so agreeable to his natural disposition with great moderation and address. The creed which he composed, known by the name of the Con- fession of Augsburg, from the place where it was presented, was read pub- licly in the diet. Some popish divines were appointed to examine it ; they brought in their animadversions; a dispute ensued between them and Melancthon, seconded by some of his brethren ; but though Melancthon then softened some articles, made concessions with regard to others, and {)ut the least exceptionable sense upon all ; though the emperor himself aboured with great earnestness to reconcile the contending parties ; so many marks of distinction were now established, and such insuperable barriers placed between the two churches, that all hopes of bringing about a coalition seemed utterly desperate.* From the divines, among whom his endeavours had been so unsuccessful, Charles turned to the princes their patrons. Nor did he find them, how desirous soever of accommodation, or willing to oblige the emperor, more disposed than the former to renounce their opinions. At that time zeal for religion took possession of the minds of men, to a degree which can scarcely be conceived by those that live in an age when the passions excited by the first manifestation of truth, and the first recovery of liberty, have in a great measure ceased to operate. This zeal was then of such strength as to overcome attachment to their political interest, which is commonly the predominant motive among princes. The elector of Saxony, the landgrave of Hesse, and other chiefs of the protestants, though solicited separately by the emperor, and allured by the promise or prospect of those advantages which it was known they were most solicitous to attain, refused, with a fortitude highly worthy of imitation, to abandon what they deemed the cause of God, for the sake of any earthly acquisition.! Every scheme in order to gain or disunite the protestant party proving abortive, nothing now remained for the emperor but to take some vigorous measures towards asserting the doctrines and authority of the established church. These, Campeggio, the papal nuncio, had always recommended as the only proper and effectual course of dealing with such obstinate heretics. In compliance with his opinions and remonstrances, the diet issued a decree [Nov. 19], condemning most of the peculiar tenets held by the protestants; forbidding any person to protect or tolerate such as taught them; enjoining a strict observance of the established rites : and prohibiting any further innovation under severe penalties. All orders of men were required to assist with their persons and fortunes in carrying this decree into execu- tion ; and such as refused to obey it were declared incapable of acting as * Seckend. lib. ii. 159, &c. Abr. Sculteti Annales EvanpHiei ap. Ifcmi. Von dcr Hard. Hitf. V>ter. Reform. Lip*. 1717. fo1. p. 159 *, ?teM. 133, RcultcV Annal. 15?. 23S THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. judges, or of appearing as parties in the Imperial chamber, the supreme court of judicature in the empire. To all which was subjoined a promise, that an application should be made to the pope, requiring him to call a feneral council within six months, in order to terminate all controversies y its sovereign decisions.* The severity of this decree, which was considered as a prelude to the most violent persecutions, alarmed the protestants, and convinced them that the emperor was resolved on their destruction. The dread of those cala- mities which were ready to fall on the church, oppressed the feeble spirit of Melancthon ; and, as if the cause had already been desperate, he gave himself up to melancholy and lamentation. But Luther, who during the meeting of the diet had endeavoured to confirm and animate his party by several treatises which he addressed to them, was not disconcerted or dis- mayed at the prospect of this new danger. He comforted Melancthon, and his other desponding disciples, and exhorted the princes not to abandon those truths which they had lately asserted with such laudable boldness.j His exhortations made the deeper impression upon them, as they were greatly alarmed at that time by the account of a combination among the popish princes of the empire for the maintenance of the established religion, to which Charles himself had acceded.;}; This convinced them that it was necessary to stand on their guard ; and that their own safety, as well as the success of their cause, depended on union. Filled with this dread of the adverse party, and with these sentiments concerning the conduct proper for themselves, they assembled at Smalkalde. There they concluded a league of mutual defence against all aggressors§ [Dec. 22], by which they formed the protestant states of the empire into one regular body, and beginning already to consider themselves as such, they resolved to apply to the kings of France and England, and to implore them to patronise and assist their new confederacy. An affair not connected with religion furnished them with a pretence for courting the aid of foreign princes. Charles, whose ambitious views en- larged in proportion to the increase of his power and grandeur, had formed a scheme of continuing the Imperial crown in his family, by procuring his brother Ferdinand to be elected "king of the Romans. The present junc- ture was favourable for the execution of that design. The emperor's arms had been every where victorious ; he had given law to all Europe at the late peace ; no rival now remained in a condition to balance or to control him ; and the electors, dazzled with the splendour of his success, or over- awed by the greatness of his power, durst scarcely dispute the will of a prince, whose solicitations carried with them the authority of commands. Nor did he want plausible reasons to enforce the measure. The affairs of his other kingdoms, he said, obliged him to be often absent from Germany ; the growing disorders occasioned by the controversies about religion, as well as the formidable neighbourhood of the Turks, who continual ly threatened to break in with their desolating armies into the heart of the empire, required the constant presence of a prince endowed with prudence capable of composing the former, and with power as well as valour suffi- cient to repel the latter. His brother Ferdinand possessed these qualities in an eminent degree ; by residing long in Germany, he had acquired a thorough knowledge of its constitution and manners ; having been present almost from the first rise of the religious dissensions, he knew what reme- dies were most proper, what the Germans could bear, and how to apply them ; as his own dominions lay on the Turkish frontier, he was the natural defender of Germany against the invasions of the infidels, being prompted by interest no less than lie would be bound in duty to oppose them. These arguments made little impression on the protestants. Experience * Blejd. 139. + Peck. ii. 18". Sleid. 140. ♦ Seek. ii. 200. iii. U. $ Sleid. Hisf. 14'?. EMPEROR CHARLES. V.. g30 taught them, that nothing had contributed more to trie undisturbed progress of their opinions, than the interregnum after Maiinrilian's death, the long absence of Charles, and the slackness of the reins of government which these occasioned. Conscious of the advantages which their cause had derived from this relaxation of government, they were unwilling to render it more vigorous, by giving themselves a new and a fixed master. They perceived clearly the extent of Charles's ambition, that he aimed at ren- dering the Imperial crown hereditary in his family, and would of course establish in the empire an absolute dominion, to which elective princes could not have aspired with equal facility. They determined therefore to oppose the election of Ferdinand with the utmost vigour, and to rouse their countrymen, by their example and exhortations, to withstand this encroachment on their liberties. The elector of Saxony, accordingly, not only refused to be present at the electoral college, which the emperor summoned to meet at Cologne [January 5, 1531], but instructed bis eldest son to appear there, and to protest against the election as informal, illegal, contrary to the articles of the golden bull, and subversive of the liberties of the empire. But the other electors, whom Charles had been at great pains to gain, without regarding either his absence or protest, chose Fer- dinand king of the Romans, who a few days after was crowned at Aix-la- Chapelle.* VV hen the protestants, who were assembled a second time at Smalkalde, received an account of this transaction, and heard at the same time, that prosecutions were commenced, in the Imperial chamber, against some of their number, on account of their religious principles, they thought it ne- cessary, not only to renew their former confederacy, but immediately to despatch their ambassadors into France and England [Feb. 29]. Francis had observed, with all the jealousy of a rival, ^the reputation which the emperor had acquired by his seeming disinterestedness and moderation in settling the affairs of Italy ; and beheld with .great concern the successful step which he had taken towards perpetuating and extending his authority in Germany by the election of a king of the Romans. Nothing, however, would have been more impolitic than to precipitate his kingdom into a new war when exhausted by extraordinary efforts, and discouraged by ill success, before it had got time to recruit its strength, or to forget past misfortunes. As no provocation had been given by the emperor, and hardly a pretext for a rupture had been afforded him, he could not violate a treaty of peace which he himself had so lately solicited, without forfeiting the esteem of all Europe, and being detested as a prince void of probity and honour. He observed, with great joy, powerful factions beginning to form in the empire ; he listened with the utmost eagerness to the complaints of the protestant princes, and,* without seeming to countenance their religious opinions, determined secretljr to cherish those sparks of political discord which might be afterwards kindled into a flame. For this purpose, he sent William de Bellay, one of the ablest negotiators in France, into Ger- many, who, visiting the courts of the malecontent princes, and heightening their ill humour by various arts, concluded an alliance between them and his master,! which, though concealed at that time, and productive of no immediate effects, laid the foundation of a union fatal on many occasions to Charles's ambitious projects ; and showed the discontented princes of Ger- many, where, for the tuture, they might find a protector no less able than willing to undertake their' defence against the. encroachments of the emperor. The king of England, highly incensed against Charles, in complaisance to whom the pope nad long retarded, and now openly opposed his divorce, * Sleid.142. Seek. iii. 1. P. Heutcr. Ber. Anstr. lib. x. c. fi. p. 940. + Bdlav, K9, a. Ho >). feck in. 14. 240 THE REIGN OF THE [Hook V. was no less disposed than Francis to strengthen a league which might be rendered so formidable to the emperor. But his favourite project of the divorce led him into such a labyrinth of schemes and negotiations, and he was, at the same time, so intent on abolishing the papal jurisdiction in England, that he had no leisure for foreign affairs. This obliged him to rest satisfied with giving general promises, together with a small supply in money, to the confederates of Smalkalde.* Meanwhile, many circumstances convinced Charles that. this was not a juncture when the extirpation of heresy was to be attempted by violence and rigour ; that in compliance with the pope's inclinations, he had already proceeded with imprudent precipitation ; and that it was more his interest to consolidate Germany into one united and vigorous body, than to divide and enfeeble it by a civil war. The protestants, who were considerable as well by their numbers as by their zeal, had acquired additional weight and importance Jjy their joining in that confederacy into which the rash steps taken at Augsburg had forced them. Having now discovered their own strength, they despised the decisions of the Imperial chamber ; and being secure of foreign protection, were ready to set the head of the empire at defiance. At the same time the peace with France was precarious, the friendship of an irresolute and interested pontiff was not to be relied on ; and Solyman, in order to repair the discredit and loss which his arms had sustained in the former campaign, was preparing to enter Austria with more numerous forces. On all these accounts, especially the last, a speedy accommodation with the malecontent princes became necessary, not only for the accomplishment of his future schemes, but for ensuring his present safety. Negotiations were, accordingly, carried on by his direction with the elector of Saxony and his associates ; after many delays, occasioned by their jealousy of the emperor, and of each other, after innumerable dif- ficulties, arising from the inflexible nature of religious tenets, which cannot admit of being altered, modified, or relinquished in the same manner as points of political interest, terms of pacification were agreed upon at Nu- remberg [July 23], and ratified solemnly in the diet at Ratisbon [Aug. 3]. In this treaty it was stipulated, That universal peace be established in Germany, until the meeting of*a generalcouncil, the convocation of which within six months the emperor shall endeavour to procure ; That no person shall be molested on account of religion ; That a stop shall be put to all processes begun by the Imperial chamber against protestants, and the sentences already passed to their detriment shall be declared void. On their part, the protestants engaged to assist the emperor with all their forces in resisting the invasion of the Turks.j Thus, by their firmness in adhering to their principles, by the unanimity with which they urged all their claims, and by their dexterity in availing themselves of the emperor's situation, the protestants obtained terms which amounted almost to a tole- ration of their religion ; all the concessions were made by Charles, none by them; even the favourite point of their approving his brother's election was not mentioned; and the protestants of Germany, who had hitherto been viewed only as a religious sect, came henceforth to be considered as a political body of no small consequence. J 1532.] The intelligence which Charles received of Solyman's having entered Hungary at the head of three hundred thousand men, brought the deliberations of the diet at Ratisbon to a period ; the contingent both of troops and money, which each prince was to furnish towards the defence ot the empire, having been already settled. The protestants, as a testimony of their gratitude to the emperor, exerted themselves with extraordinary zeal, and brought into the field forces which exceeded in number the quota * Herbert, 152 154. } Du Mont Corps Diplomatique, torn. iv. part ii. 87. 89. } Sleid. 149, &c. Seek. iil. 19- EMPEROR CHARLES V 241 imposed on them ; the catholics imitating their example, one or the greatest and best appointed armies that had ever been levied in Germany, assembled near Vienna. Being joined by a body of Spanish and Italian veterans under the marquis del Guasto ; by some heavy armed cavalry from the Low-Coun- tries ; and by the troops which Ferdinand had raised in Bohemia, Austria, and his other territories, it amounted in all to ninety thousand disciplined foot, and thirty thousand horse, besides a prodigious swarm of irregulars. Of this vast army, worthy the first prince in Christendom, the emperor took the command in person ; and mankind waited in suspense the issue of a decisive battle between the two greatest monarchs in the world. But each of them dreading the other's power and good fortune, they both conducted their operations with such excessive caution, that a campaign, for which such immense preparations had been made, ended without any memorable event [September and October]. Solyman, finding it impossible to gain ground upon an enemy always attentive and on his guard, marched back to Constantinople towards the end of autumn.* It is remarkable, that in such a martial age, when every gentleman was a soldier, and every prince a general, this was the first time that Charles, who had already carried on such extensive wars, and gained so many victories, appeared at the head ot his troops. In this first essay of his arms, to have opposed such a leader as Solyman was no small honour ; to have obliged him to retreat, merited very considerable praise. About the beginning of this campaign, the elector of Saxony died [Aug. 16], and was succeeded by his son John Frederick. The reformation rather gained than lost by that event ; the new elector, no less attached than his predecessors to the opinions of Luther, occupied the station which they had held at the head of the protestant party, and defended, with the bold- ness and zeal of youth, that cause which they had fostered and reared with the caution of more advanced age. Immediately after the retreat of the Turks, Charles, impatient to revisit Spain, set out on his way thither, for Italy. As he was extremely desirous of an interview with the pope, they met a second time at Bologna, with the same external demonstrations of respect and friendship, but with little of that confidence which had subsisted between them during their late negoti- ations there. Clement was much dissatisfied with the emperor's proceed- ings at Augsburg ; his concessions with regard to the speedy convocation ot a council, having more than cancelled all the merit of the severe decree against the doctrines of the reformers. The toleration granted to the pro- testants at Ratisbon, and the more explicit promise concerning a council, with which it was accompanied, had irritated him still farther. Charles, however, partly from conviction that the meeting of a council would be at- tended with salutary effects, and partly from his desire to please the Ger- mans, having solicited the pope by his ambassadors to call that assembly without delay, and now urging the same thing in person, Clement was greatly embarrassed what reply he should make to a request which it was indecent to refuse, and dangerous to grant. He endeavoured at first to di- vert Charles from the measure ; but, finding him inflexible, he had recourse to artifices, which he knew would delay, if not entirely defeat, the calling of that assembly. Under the plausible pretext of its bein. m. p, 100. <*r. Bam Btet.de rEmpfre, i 8 '■"' Vol. II.— 31 242 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. Italy: they i onlended that all points in dispute should ho determined hy the words of holy scripture alone ; he considered not only the decrees of the church, but the opinions of fathers and doctors, as of equal authority; Ihey required a free council, in which the divines, commissioned hy different churches, should he allowed a voice ; he aimed at modelling the council in such a manner as would render it entirely dependent on his pleasure. Above all, the protestants thought it unreasonable that they should bind themselves to submit to the decrees of a council, before they Knew on what principles ihese decrees were to be founded) by what persons they were to be pro- nounced, and what forms of proceeding tliey would observe. The pope maintained it to be altogether unnecessary to call a council, if those who demanded it did not previously declare their resolution to acquiesce in its decrees. In order to adjust such a variety of points, many expedients w ere proposed, and the negotiations spun out to such a length, as effectually answered Clement's purpose of putting off the meeting of a council, without drawing on himself the whole infamy of obstructing a measure which all Europe deemed so essential to the good of the church.* Together with this negotiation about calling a council, the emperor carried on another, which lie had still more at heart, for securing the peace established in Italy. As Francis had renounced his pretensions in that country with great reluctance, Charles made no doubt but that he would lay hold on the first pretext afforded him, or embrace the first opportunity which presented itself, of recovering what be bad lost. It became neces- sary on this account to take measures for assembling an army able to op- pose him. As his treasury, drained by a long war, could not supply the sums requisite for keeping such a body constantly on foot, he attempted to throw that burden upon his allies, and to provide for the safety of his own dominions, at their expense, by proposing that the Italian states should enter into a league of defence against all invaders ; that, on the first appearance of danger, an army should be raised and maintained at the common charge ; and that Antonio de Leyva should be appointed the generalissimo. Noi was the proposal unacceptable to Clement, though for a reason very dif- ferent from that which induced the emperor to make it. He hoped by this expedient, to deliver Italy from the German and Spanish veterans, which had so long filled all the powers in that country with terror, and still kept them in subjection to the Imperial yoke. A league was accordingly con- cluded [Feb. 24, 1533}; all the Italian states, the Venetians excepted, ac- ceded to it ; the sum which each of the contracting parties should furnish towards maintaining the army was fixed ; the emperor agreed to withdraw the troops which gave so much umbrage to his allies, and which he was unable any longer to support. Having disbanded part of them, and re- moved the rest to Sicily and Spain, he embarked on board Doria's galley.-, and arrived at Barcelona [April 22]. | Notwithstanding all his precautions for securing the peace of Germany, and maintaining that system which he had established in Italy, the emperor became every day more and more apprehensive that both would be soon disturbed by the intrigues or arms of the French king. His apprehensions were well founded, as nothing but the desperate situation of his affairs could have brought Francis to give his consent to a treaty so dishonourable and disadvantageous as that of Cambray : he, at the very time of ratifying it, had formed a resolution to observe it no longer than necessity compelled bim, and took a solemn protest, though with the most profound secrecy, against several articles in the treaty, particularly that whereby he renounced all pretensions to the dutchy of Milan, as unjust, injurious to his heirs, and invalid. One of the crown lawyers, by his command, entered a protest to the same purpose, and with the like secrecy, when the ratification of the * F-Paol, Hist 61 Seckend. iii.73. r <*nii I. ix.551. FerreTwtat.349 EMPEROR CHARLES V. .243 treaty was registered in the parliament of Paris.* Francis seems to have thought that, by employing an artifice unworthy of a king, destructive of public faith, and of the mutual confidence on which all transactions between nations are founded, he was released from any obligation to perform the most solemn promises, or to adhere to the most sacred engagements. From the moment he concluded the peace of Cambray, he wished and watched for an opportunity of violating it with safety. lie endeavoured for that reason to strengthen his alliance with the king of England, whose friend- ship he cultivated with the greatest assiduity. He put the military force of his own kingdom on a better and more respectable footing than ever. He artfully fomented the jealousy and discontent of the German princes. But above all, Francis laboured to break the strict confederacy which subsisted between Charles and Clement ; and he had soon the satisfaction to observe the appearances of disgust and alienation arising in the mind of that suspicious and interested pontiff', which gave him hopes that their union would not be lasting. As the emperor's decision in favour of the duke of Ferrara had greatly irritated the pope, Francis aggravated the injustice of that proceeding, and flattered Clement that the papal see would find in him a more impartial and no less powerful protector. As the importunity with which Charles demanded a council was extremely offensive to the pope, Francis artfully created obstacles to prevent it, and attempted to di- vert the German princes, his allies, from insisting so obstinately on that point.f As the emperor had gained such an ascendant over Clement by contributing to aggrandize his family, Francis endeavoured to allure him by the same irresistible bait, proposing a marriage between his second son Henry duke of Orleans, and Catharine, the daughter of the pope's cousin Laurence di Medici. On the first overture of this match, the emperor could not persuade himself that Francis really intended to debase the royai blood of France, by an alliance with Catharine, whose ancestors had been so lately private citizens and merchants in Florence, and believed that he meant only to flatter or amuse the ambitious pontiff. He thought it ne- cessary, however, to efface the impression which such a dazzling offer might have made, by promising to break oft" the marriage which had been agreed on between his own niece the king of Denmark's daughter, and the duke of Milan, and to substitute Catharine in her place. But the French ambassador producing unexpectedly full powers to conclude the marriage treaty with the Duke of Orleans, this expedient had no ('fleet. Clement was so highly pleased with an honour which added such lustre and dignity to the house of Medici, that he offered to grant Catharine the investiture of considerable territories in Italy, by way of portion ; he seemed ready to support Francis in prosecuting his ancient claims in that country, and con- sented to a personal interview with that monarch. J Charles was at the utmost pains to prevent a meeting, in which nothing was likely to pass but what would be of detriment to him ; nor could he bear, after he had twice condescended to visit the pope in his own territo- ries, that Clement should bestow such a mark of distinction on his rival, as to venture on a voyage by sea, at an unfavourable season, in order to pay court to Francis in the French dominions. But the pope's eagerness to accomplish the match overcame all the scruples of pride, or fear, or jealousy, which would probably have influenced him on any other occa- sion. The interview, notwithstanding several artifices of the emperor to prevent it, took place at Marseilles with extraordinary pomp, anil demon- strations of confidence on both sides [October] ; and the marriage, which the ambition and abilities of Catharine rendered in the sequel as pernicious to France, as it was then thought dishonourable, was consummated. But * Du Morit. Corps. Diploin. torn. i\. pari ii. p. W. | Rt'lfeyJ 141, £.''• Seek hi. i G • iv 551. 553 Bella «44 PHE REIGN OF THE [Book \ . whatever schemes may have been secretly concerted by the pope and Francis in favour of the duke of Orleans, to whom his father proposed to make over all his rights in Italy ; so careful were they to avoid giving any cause of offence to the emperor, that no treaty was concluded between them ;* and even in the marriage-articles, Catharine renounced all claims and pretensions in Italy, except to the dutchy of Urbino.t But at the very time when he was carrying on these negotiations, and forming this connection with Francis, which gave so great umbrage to the emperor, such was the artifice and duplicity of Clement's character, that he suffered the latter to direct all his proceedings with regard to the king of England, and was no less attentive to gratify him in that particular, than if the most cordial union had still subsisted between them. Henry's suit for a divorce had now continued near six years ; during all which period the pope negotiated, promised, retracted, and concluded nothing. After bearing repeated delays and disappointments longer than could have been expected from a prince of such a choleric and impetuous temper, the patience of Heniy was at last so much exhausted, that he applied to another tribunal for that decree which he had solicited in vain at Rome. Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, by a sentence founded on the autho- rity of universities, doctors, and rabbles, who had been consulted with respect to the point, annulled the king's marriage with Catharine ; her daughter was declared illegitimate ; and Anne Boleyn acknowledged as queen of England. At the same time Henry began not only to neglect and to threaten the pope, whom he had hitherto courted, but to make inno- vations in the church, of which he had formerly been such a zealous defender. Clement, who had already seen so many provinces and king- doms revolt from the hoty see, became apprehensive at last that England might imitate their example, and partly from his solicitude to prevent that fatal blow, partly in compliance with the French king's solicitations, de- termined to give Henry such satisfaction as might still retain him within the bosom of the church [March 23]. But the violence of the cardinals, devoted to the emperor, did not allow the pope leisure for executing this prudent resolution, and hurried him, with a precipitation fatal to the Roman see, to issue a bull rescinding Cranmer's sentence, confirming Henry's mar- riage with Catharine, and declaring him excommunicated, if, within a time specified, he did not abandon the wife he had taken, and return to her whom he had deserted. Enraged at this unexpected decree, Henry kept no longer any measures with the court of Rome ; his subjects seconded his resentment and indignation ; an act of parliament was passed, abolishing the papal power and jurisdiction in England ; by another, the king was declared supreme head of the church, and all the authority of which the popes were deprived was vested in him. That vast fabric of ecclesiastical dominion which had been raised with such art, and of which the founda- tions seemed to have been laid so deep, being no longer supported by the veneration of the people, was overturned in a moment. Henry himself, with the caprice peculiar to his character, continued to defend the doctrines of the Romish church as fiercely as he attacked its jurisdiction. He alter- nately persecuted the protestants for rejecting the former, and the Catho- lics for acknowledging the latter. But his subjects, being once permitted to enter into new paths, did not choose to stop short at the precise point prescribed by him. Having been encouraged by his example to break some of tlieir fetters, they were so impatient to shake off what still re- mained,J that, in the following reign, with the applause of the greater part of the nation, a total separation was made from the church of Rome in articles of doctrine, as well as in matters of discipline and jurisdiction. * Guic. 1. xn. 555. t Du Mont Corps Diplom. iv. p, ii. 101 J Herhrrt, Burn. Hist, of Reform. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 245 A short delay might have saved the see of Rome from all the unhappy consequences of Clement's rashness. Soon after his sentence against Henry, he fell into a languishing distemper, which gradually wasting his constitu- tion, put an end to his pontificate FSept. 25], the most unfortunate, both during its continuance, and by its effects, that the church had known for many ages. The very day on which the cardinals entered the conclave [Oct. 13], they raised to the papal throne Alexander Farnese, dean of the sacred college, and the oldest member of that body, who assumed the name of Paul III. The account of his promotion was received with extra- ordinary acclamations of joy by the people of Rome, highly pleased, after an interval of more than a hundred years, to see the crown of St. Peter placed on the head of a Roman citizen. Persons more capable of judg- ing, formed a favourable presage of his administration, from the experience which he had acquired under four pontificates, as well as the character of prudence and moderation which he had uniformly maintained in a station of great eminence, and during an active period that required both talents and address.* Europe, it is probable, owed the continuance of its peace to the death of Clement ; for although no traces remain in history of any league con- eluded between him and Francis, it is scarcely to be doubted but that he would have seconded the operations of the French arms in Italy, that he might have gratified his ambition by seeing one of his family possessed of the supreme power in Florence, and another in Milan. But upon the election of Paul III. who had hitherto adhered uniformly to the Imperial interest, Francis found it necessary to suspend his operations for some time, and to put off the commencement of hostilities against the emperor, on which, before the death of Clement, he had been fully determined. While Francis waited for an opportunity to renew a war which had hitherto proved so fatal to himself and his subjects, a transaction of a very singular nature was carried on in Germany. Among many beneficial and salutary effects of which the reformation was the immediate cause, it was attended, as must be the case in all actions and events wherein men are con- cerned, with some consequences of an opposite nature. When the human mind is roused by grand objects, and agitated by strong passions, its ope- rations acquire such force, that they are apt to become irregular and extra- vagant. Upon any great revolution in religion, such irregularities abound most, at that particular period, when men, having thrown off the authority of their ancient principles, do not yet fully comprehend the nature, or feel die obligation of those new tenets which they have embraced. The mind in that situation, pushing forward with the boldness which prompted it to reject established opinions, and not guided by a clear knowledge of the system substituted in their place, disdains all restraint, and runs into wild notions, which often lead to scandalous or immoral conduct. Thus, in the first ages of the Christian church, many of the new converts having re- nounced their ancient systems of religious faith, and being but imperfectly acquainted with the doctrines and precepts of Christianity, broached the most extravagant opinions, equally subversive of piety and virtue ; all which errors disappeared or were exploded when the knowledge of reli- gion increased, and came to be more generally diffused. In like manner, soon after Luther's appearance, the rashness or ignorance of some of his disciples led them to publish tenets no less absurd than pernicious, which being proposed to men extremely illiterate, but fond of novelty, and at a time when their minds were occupied chiefly with religious speculations, gained too easy credit and authority among them. To these causes must be imputed the extravagances of Muncer, in the year one thousand five hundred and twenty-five, as well as the rapid progress which his opinions •Guie.l n.SSff. F. Paul, fi4. T H E R E I G N OF Till. [Book V made among the peasants ; but though the insurrection excited by that tanatic was soon suppressed, several of his followers lurked in different places, and endeavoured privately to propagate his opinions. In those provinces of Upper Germany, which had already been so cruelly wasted by their enthusiastic rage, the magistrates watched their motions with such severe attention, that many of them found it necessary to retire into other countries, some were punished, others driven into exile, and their errors were entirely rooted out. But in the Netherlands and West- phalia, where the pernicious tendency of their opinions was mure unknown, and guarded against with less care, they got admittance into several towns, and spread the infection of their principles, \fhe most remarkable of their religious tenets related to the sacrament of~baptism, which, as they contended, ought to be administered only to persons grown up to years of understanding, and should be performed not by sprinkling them with water, but by dipping them in it ; for this reason they condemned the baptism of infants, and rebaptising all whom they admitted into their society, the sect came to be distinguished by the name of Anabaptists. To this pecu- liar notion concerning baptism, which has the appearance of being founded on the practice of the church in the apostolic age, and contains nothing inconsistent with the peace and order of human society, they added other principles of a most enthusiastic as well as dangerous nature. \ They maintained that, among Christians who had the precepts of the goipel to direct, and the Spirit of God to guide them, the office of magistracy was not only unnecessary, but an unlawful encroachment on their spiritual liberty ; that the distinctions occasioned by birth, or rank, or wealth, being contrary to the spirit of the gospel, which considers all men as equah should be entirely abolished ; that all Christians, throwing their posses- sions into one common stock should live together in that state of equality which becomes members of the same family ; that as neither the laws of nature, nor the precepts of the New Testament, had imposed any re- straints upon men with regard to the number of wives which they might marry, they should use that Ijberty which God himself had granted to the patriarchs. Such opinions, propagated and maintained with enthusiastic zeal and boldness, were not long without producing the violent effects natural to them. Two Anabaptist prophets, John Matthias, a baker of Haerlem, and John Boccold, or Beukels, a journeyman tailor of Leyden, possessed with the rage of making proselytes, fixed their residence at Munster, an Imperialcity in Westphalia, of the first rank, under the sovereignty of its bishop, but governed by itsovvn senate and consuls. As neither of these fanatics wanted the talents requisite in desperate enterprises, great resolution, the appearance of sanctity, bold pretensions to inspiration, and a confident and plausible manner of discoursing, they soon gained many converts. Among these were Rothman, who had first preached the protestant doctrine in Munster, and Cnipperdoling, a citizen of good birth and considerable eminence. Emboldened by the countenance of such disciples, they openly taught their opinions ; and not satisfied with that liberty, they made several attempts, though without success, to become masters of the town, in order to get their tenets established by public authority. At last, having secretly called in their associates from the neighbouring country, they suddenly took possession of the arsenal and senate house in the night time, and running through the streets with drawn swords, and horrible howlings. cried out alternately, " Repent and be baptised," and " Depart ye ungodly.'' The senators, the canons, the nobility, together with the more sober citi- zens, whether papists or protectants, terrified at their threats and outcries, fled in confusion, and left the city under the dominion of a frantic multi- tude, consisting chiefly of strangers [February.] Nothing now remaining to overawe or control them, they set about modelling the government accord- EMPEROR CHARLES V. 247 ing to their own wild ideas: and though at first they showed so much reverence for the ancient constitution, as to elect senators ot their own sect, and to appoint Cnipperdoling* and another proselyte consuls, this was nothing more than form ; for all their proceedings were directed by Mat- thias, who, in the style, and with the authority of a prophet, uttered his commands, which it was instant death to disobey. Having begun with encouraging the multitude to pillage the churches, and deface their orna- ments ; he enjoined them to destroy all books except the bible, as useless or impious ; he ordered the estates of such as fled to be confiscated, and sold to the inhabitants of the adjacent country; he commanded every man to bring forth his gold and silver, and other precious effects, and to lay them at his feet ; the wealth amassed by these means he deposited in a public treasury, and named deacons to dispense it for the common use o all. The members of this commonwealth being thus brought to perfect equality, he commanded all of them to eat at tables prepared in public, and even prescribed the dishes which were to be served up each day. Having finished this plan of reformation, his next care was to provide for the defence of the city ; and he took measures for that purpose with a prudence which savoured nothing of fanaticism. He collected large magazines of every kind ; he repaired and extended the fortifications, obliging every person without distinction to work in his turn ; he formed such as were capable of bearing arms into regular bodies, and endeavoured to add the stability of discipline to the impetuosity of enthusiasm. He sent emissaries to the Anabaptists in the Low-Countries, inviting them to assemble at Munster, which he dignified with the name of Mount Sion, that from thence they might set out to reduce all the nations of the earth under their dominion. He himself was unwearied in attending to every thing necessary for the security or increase of the sect ; animating his disci- Eles by his own example to decline no labour, as well as to submit to every ardship ; and their enthusiastic passions being kept from subsiding by a perpetual succession of exhortations, revelations, and prophecies, they seemed ready to undertake or to suffer any thing in maintenance of their opinions. While they were thus employed, the bishop of Munster having assem- bled a considerable army, advanced to besiege the town. On his approach, Matthias sallied out at the head of some chosen troops, attacked one quar- ter of his camp, forced it, and after great slaughter returned to the city loaded with glory and spoil. Intoxicated with this success, he appeared next day brandishing a spear, and declared, that, in imitation of Gideon, he would go forth with a handful of men and smite the host of the ungodly. Thirty persons whom he named, followed him without hesitation in this wild enterprise [May], and, rushing on the enemy with frantic courage, were cut off to a man. The death 01 their prophet occasioned at first great consternation among his disciples ; but Boccold, by the same gifts and pre- tensions which had gained Matthias credit, soon revived their spirits and hopes to such a degree, that he succeeded the deceased prophet in the 6ame absolute direction of all their affairs. As he did not possess that enterprising courage which distinguished his predecessor, he satisfied him- self with carrying on a defensive war; and without attempting to annoy the enemy by sallies, he waited for the succours he expected from the Low-Countries, the arrival of which was often foretold and piomised by their prophets. But though less daring in action than Matthias, he was a wilder enthusiast, and of more unbounded ambition. Soon after the death of his predecessor, having, by obscure visions and prophecies, prepared the multitude for some extraordinary event, he stripped himself naked, and, marching through the streets, proclaimed with a loud voice, " That the kingdom of Sion was at hand ; that whatever was highest on earth should be brought low, and whatever was lowest should be exalted." In order to fulfil this, he commanded the churches, as the most lofty building^ in the 848 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. city, to be levelled with the ground ; he degraded the senators chosen by Matthias, and depriving Cnipperdoling of the consulship, the highest office in the commonwealth, appointed him to execute the lowest and most infamous, that of common hangman, to which strange transition the other agreed, not only without murmuring, but with the utmost joy ; and such was the despotic rigour of Boccold'' s administration, that he was called almost every day to perform some duty or other ot his wretched function. In place of the deposed senators, he named twelve judges, according to the number of tribes in Israel, to preside in all affairs ; retaining to himselt the same authority which Moses anciently possessed as legislator oi that people. Not satisfied, however, with power or titles, which were not supreme, a prophet whom he had gained and tutored, having called the multitude together, declared it to be the will of God, that John Boccold should be king of Sion, and sit on the throne of David. John kneeling down, accepted of the heavenly call [June 24], which he solemnly protested had been revealed likewise to himself, and was immediately acknowledged as monarch by the deluded multitude. From that moment he assumed all the state and pomp of royalty. He wore a crown of gold, and was clad in the richest and most sumptuous garments. A bible was carried on his one hand, a naked sword on the other. A great body of guards accom- panied him when he appeared in public. He coined money stamped with his own image, and appointed the great officers of his household and kingdom, among whom Cnipperdoling was nominated governor of the city. as a reward for his former submission. Having now attained the height of power, Boccold began to discover passions, which he had hitherto restrained, or indulged only in secret. As the excesses of enthusiasm have been observed in every age to lead to sensual gratifications, the same constitution that is susceptible of the former, being remarkably prone to the latter, he instructed the prophets and teachers to harangue the people for several days concerning the law- fulness, and even the necessityvof taking more wives than one, which they asserted to be one of the privileges granted by God to the saints. When their ears were once accustomed to this licentious doctrine, and their pas- sions inflamed with the prospect of such unbounded indulgence, he himself set them an example oi using what he called their Christian liberty, by marrying at once three wives, among which the widow of Matthias, a woman of singular beauty, was one. As he was allured by beauty, or the love of variety, he gradually added to the number of his wives, until they amounted to fourteen, though the widow of Matthias was the only one dignified with the title of Queen, or who shared with him the splen- dour and ornaments of royalty. After the example of their prophet, the multitude gave themselves up to the most licentious and uncontrolled gratification of their desires. No man remained satisfied with a single wife. Not to use their Christian liberty was deemed a crime. Persons were appointed to search the bouses for young women grown up to maturity, whom they instantly compelled to marry. Together \\ ith polygamy, freedom of divorce, its inseparable attendant, was introduced, and became a new source of corruption. Every excess was committed, of which the passions of men are capable, when restrained neither by the authority of laws nor the sense of decency ;* and by a monstrous and * Prophetic et concionatorum autoritale juxta et exemplo, tola urbe ad rapiendas pulclierrimas quaique fceminas discursum est. Nee intra paucos dies, in tanta horninum turba fere ulla report a est supra annum decimum qiiarlum qua- stupnun passa non fuerit. Lamb Hortens. p. 303. Vulgo viris quinas esse uxores, pluribus senas, nonuullis septenas et octonas. Puellas supra diiodecimum statis annum statim amare. Id. 305. Nemo una contentus l'uil, neque cuiquam extra effoetas el viris inunaturas continent! esse lien it. Id. 307. Tarebo hie, ut sil suus honor auribus, quanta barbarie et malitia usi sunt in puellis vitiandis nondum nplis uiatrimonio, id quod mihi neque ex \auo, neque ex vulgi sennonibus haustum est. sed ex ea vetula, cui cnra sic viliatarum demandali fu't. auditum. Joh. Corvinus, 3l6 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 249 almost incredible conjunction, voluptuousness was engrafted on religion, and dissolute riot accompanied the austerities of fanatical devotion. Meanwhile the German princes were highly offended at the insult offered to their dignity by Boccold's presumptuous usurpation of royal honours ; and the profligate manners of his followers, which were a reproach to the Christian name, filled men of all professions with horror. Luther, who had testified against this fanatical spirit on its first appearance, now deeply lamented its progress, and having exposed the delusion with great strength of argument, as well as acrimony of style, called loudly on all the states of Germany to put a stop to a frenzy no less pernicious to society, than fatal to religion. The emperor, occupied with other cares and projects, had not leisure to attend to such a distant object ; but the princes of the empire assembled by the king of the Romans, voted a supply of men and money to the bishop of Munster, who being unable to keep a sufficient armv on foot, had converted the siege of the town into a blockade [1535]. The forces raised in consequence of this resolution, were put under the command of an officer of experience, who approaching the town towards the end of spring, in the year 1535, pressed it more closely than formerly ; but found the fortifications so strong, and so diligently guarded, that he durst not attempt an assault. It was now about fifteen months since the Anabaptists had established their dominion in Munster; they had during that time undergone prodigious fatigue in working on the fortifications, and performing military duty. Notwithstanding the prudent attention ot their king to provide for their subsistence, and his frugal as well as regular economy in their public meals, they began to feel the approach ot famine [May]. Several small bodies of their brethren, who were advan- cing to their assistance from the Low-Countries, had been intercepted and cut to pieces ; and while all Germany was ready to combine against them, they had no prospect of succour. But such was the ascendant which Roccold had acquired over the multitude, and so powerful the fascination of enthusiasm, that their hopes were as sanguine as ever, and they heark- ened with implicit credulity to the visions and predictions of their pro- phets, who assured them that the Almighty would speedily interpose in order to deliver the city. The faith, however, of some few, shaken by the violence and length of their sufferings, began to fail ; but being sus- pected of an inclination to surrender to the enemy, they were punished with immediate death, as guilty of impiety in distrusting the power of God. One of the king's wives, having uttered certain words which implied some doubt concerning his divine mission, he instantly called the whole number together, and commanding the blasphemer, as he called her, to kneel down, cut off her head with his own hands ; and so far were the rest from expressing any horror at this cruel deed, that they joined him in dancing with a frantic joy around the bleeding body of their companion. By this time [June 1], the besieged endured the utmost rigour of famine ; but they chose rather to suffer hardships, the recital of which is shocking to humanity, than to listen to the terms of capitulation offered them by the bishop. At last, a deserter, whom they had taken into their service, being either less intoxicated with the fumes of enthusiasm, or unable any longer to bear such distress, made his escape to the enemy. He informed their general of a weak part in the fortifications which he had observed, and assuring him that the besieged, exhausted with hunger and fatigue, kept watch there with little care ; he offered to lead a party thither in the night. The proposal was accepted, and a chosen body of troops appointed for the service ; who, scaling the walls unperceived, seized one of the gates, and admitted the rest of the army. The Anabaptists, though surprised, defended themselves in the market-place with valour, heightened by des- pair; but being overpowered by numbers, and surrounded on every hand, most of them were slain, and the remainder taken prisoners ("June 24]. Vol. II.— 32 250 T i f E a E I G N OF T H E [Book V . Among the last were the king and Cnipperdoling. The king, loaded with chains, was carried from city to city as a spectacle to gratify the curiosity of the people, and was exposed to all their insults. His spirit, however, was not hroken or humbled by this sad reverse of his condition ; and he adhered with unshaken firmness to the distinguishing tenets of his sect. After this, he was brought back to Munster, the scene of his royalty and crimes, and put to death with the most exquisite as well as lingering tor- tures, all which he bore with astonishing fortitude. This extraordinary man, who had been able to acquire such amazing dominion over the minds of his followers, and to excite commotioas so dangerous to society, was only twenty-six years of age.* Together with its monarch, the kingdom of the Anabaptists came to an end. Their principles having taken deep root in the Low-Countries, the party still subsists there, under the name of Mennonites ; but by a very singular revolution, this sect, so mutinous and sanguinary at its first origin, hath become altogether innocent and pacific. Holding it unlawful to wage war, or to accept of civil offices, they devote themselves entirely to the duties of private citizens, and by their industry and charity endeavour to make reparation to human society for the violence committed by their founders.! -A small number of this sect, which is settled in England, retains its peculiar tenet concerning baptism, but without any dangerous mixture of enthusiasm. The mutiny of the Anabaptists, though it drew general attention, did not so entirely engross the princes of Germany, as not to allow leisure for other transactions. The alliance between the French king and the con- federates at Smalkalde, began about this time to produce great effects. Ulric, duke of Wurtemberg, having been expelled his dominions in the year one thousand five hundred and nineteen, on account of his violent and oppressive administration, the house of Austria had got possession of his dutchy. That prince having now by a long exile atoned for the errors in his conduct, which were the effect rather of inexperience than of a tyran- nical disposition, was become the object of general compassion. The landgrave of Hesse, in particular, his near relation, warmly espoused his interest, and used many efforts to recover for him his ancient inheritance. But the king of the Romans obstinately refused to relinquish a valuable acquisition which his family had made with so much ease. The land- frave, unable to compel him, applied to the king of France, his new ally, 'rancis, eager to embrace any opportunity of distressing the house of Austria, and desirous of wresting from it a territoiy which gave it footing and influence in a part of Germany at a distance from its other dominions, encouraged the landgrave to take arms, and secretly supplied him with a large sum -of money. This he employed to raise troops 5 and marching with great expedition towards Wurtemberg, attacked, deteated, and dis- persed a considerable body of Austrians, intrusted with the defence of the country. All the duke's subjects hastened, with emulation, to receive their native prince, and reinvested him with that authority which is still enjoyed by his descendants. At the same time the exercise of the pro- testant religion was established in his dominions.^ Ferdinand, how sensible soever of this unexpected blow, not daring to attack a prince whom all the protestant powers in Germany were ready to support, judged it expedient to conclude a treaty with him, by which, in the most ample form, he recognised his title to the dutchy. The suc- cess of the landgrave's operations, in behalf of the duke of Wurtemberg, * Slcid. 100, &c. Tumultuum Anabaptistarum liber nnus. Ant, I,amberto Hortensio auctore ap. Scardium, vol. ii. p. 298, fee. De Miserabili Monasteriensium Obsidione, fee. fee. libeling Antoni; Corvini ap. Scar. 313. Annates Anabaptistici a Joli. Henrico Ottio, 4to. Basitcie, 1072. Cor. Heersbachius Hist Anab. edit. 1R37. p. 140. + Bavle Diction, art. .tvahaptistr?. t Pleid. 179 Fellav. 159. fee. : : M P E K O R CHA R L E S V. 251 ha\ ing convinced Ferdinand that a rupture with a league, so formidable as that of Smalkalde, was to be avoided with the utmost care, he entered likewise into a negotiation with the elector of Saxony, the head of that union, and by some concessions in favour of the protestant religion and others of advantage to the elector himself, he prevailed on him, together with his confederates, to acknowledge his title as king of the Romans. At the same time, in order to prevent any such precipitate or irregular election in times to come, it was agreed that no person should hereafter he promoted to that dignity without the unanimous consent of the elec- tors ; and the emperor soon after confirmed this stipulation.* These acts of indulgence towards the protestants, and the close union into which the king of the Romans seemed to be entering with the princes of that party, gave great offence at Rome. F'aul 111., though he had de- parted from a resolution of his predecessor, never to consent to the calling of a general council, and had promised, in the first consistory held after his election, that he would convoke that assembly so much desired by all Christendom, was no less enraged than Clement at the innovations in Ger- many, and no less averse to any scheme for reforming either the doctrines of the church, or the abuses in the court of Rome; but having been a witness of the universal censure which Clement had incurred by his obsti- nacy with regard to these points, he hoped to avoid the same reproach by the seeming alacrity with which he proposed a council ; flattering him- self, however, that such difficulties would arise concerning the time and place of meeting, the persons who had a right to be present, and the order of their proceedings, as would effectually defeat the intention of those who demanded that assembly, without exposing himself to any imputa- tion for refusing to call it. VVith this view he despatched nuncios to the several courts, in order to make known his intention, and that he had fixed on Mantua as a proper place in which to hold the council. Such difficul- ties as the pope had foreseen, immediately presented themselves in a great number. The French king did not approve of the place which Paul had chosen, as the papal and imperial influence would necessarily be too great in a town situated in that part of Italy. The king of England not only concurred with Francis in urging that objection, but refused, besides, to acknowledge any council called in the name and by the authority of the pope. The German protestants having met together at Smalkalde [Dec. 12], insisted on their original demand of a council to be held in Germany, and pleading the emperor's promise, as well as the agreement at Ratisbou to that effect, declared that they would not consider an assembly held at Mantua as a legal or free representative of the church. By this diversity of sentiments and views, such a field for intrigue and negotiation opened, as made it easy for the pope to assume the merit of being eager to assem- ble a council, while at the same time he could put off its meeting at plea- sure. The protestants on the other hand, suspecting his designs, and sen- sible of the importance which they derived from their union, renewed for ten years the league of Smalkalde, which now became stronger and more formidable by the accession of several new members.! During these transactions in Germany, the emperor undertook his famous enterprise against the piratical states in Africa. That part of the African continent lying along the coast of the Mediterranean sea, which anciently * Pleid. 173. Corps Diplom. torn. iv. p. 2. 119. f This league was rum -hided December, cmc thousand five hundred and iliirty -live, but not ex- tended or signed in form lin September in the following year The princes who acceded to it were, John elector of Saxony. Ernest duke of Brunswick, Philip landgrave of H< BSe, i hie duke or VVur- tembeig, Barnim and Philip dukes of Pomerania, John, George, and Joachim, princes of Anhalt, Gebbard and Albret, counts of Mansfield, William count or .Nassau. The cities ^trasburg, Nurem- berg, Constance, I'lm. Magdeburg, Bremen, Reutlingen, Haflbron, Memmengen, Liudaw,Campeu, Inua, Bibrac, Windshelm, Augsburg, Francfort, Baling, Brunswick, Goslar, Hanover. Gottingen, K.imherk, Hamburg. Mind^n. 252 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. formed the kingdoms of Mauritania and Massylia, together with the republic of Carthage, and which is now known by the general name of Barbary, had undergone many revolutions. Subdued by the Romans, it became a province of their empire. When it was conquered afterwards by the Van- dals, they erected a kingdom there. That being overturned by Belisarius, the country became subject to the Greek emperors, and continued to be so until it was overrun, towards the end of the seventh century, by the rapid and irresistible arms of the Arabians. It remained for some time a part of that vast empire which the caliphs governed with absolute authority. Its immense distance, however, from the seat of government, encouraged the descendants of those leaders who had subdued the country, or the chiefs of the Moors, its ancient inhabitants, to throw off the yoke, and to assert their independence. The caliphs, who derived their authority from a spirit of enthusiasm, more fitted for making conquests than for preserving them, were obliged to connive at acts of rebellion which they could not prevent ; and Barbary was divided into several kingdoms, of which Morocco, Algiers, and Tunis were the most considerable. The inhabitants of these kingdoms were a mixed race, Arabs, negroes from the southern provinces, and Moors, either natives of Africa, or who had been expelled out of Spain ; all zealous professors of the Mahometan religion, and inflamed against Christianity with a bigotted hatred proportional to their ignorance and barbarous manners. Among these people, no less daring, inconstant, and treacherous, than the ancient inhabitants of the same country described by the Roman historians, frequent seditions broke out, and many changes in government took place. These, as they affected only the internal state of a country extremely bar- barous, are but little known, and deserve to be so ; but about the beginning of the sixteenth century, a sudden revolution happened, which, by render- ing the states of Barbary formidable to the Europeans, hath made their history worthy of more attention. This revolution was brought about by persons born in a rank of life which entitled them to act no such illus- trious part. Home and Hayradin, the sons of a potter in the Isle of Les- bos, prompted by a restless and enterprising spirit, forsook their father's trade, ran to sea, and joined a crew of pirates. They soon distinguished themselves by their valour and activity, and becoming masters of a small brigantine, carried on their infamous trade with such conduct and success, that they assembled a fleet of twelve galleys, besides many vessels of smaller force. Of this fleet, Horuc, the elder brother, called Barbarossa. from the red colour of his beard, was admiral, and Hayradin second in command, but with almost equal authority. They called themselves the friends of the sea, and the enemies of all who sail upon it ; and their names soon became terrible from the Straits of the Dardanelles to those of Gibral- tar. Together with their fame and power, their ambitious views extended. and while acting as corsairs, they adopted the ideas, and acquired the talents of conquerors. They often carried the prizes which they took on the coast of Spain and Italy into the ports of Barbary, and enriching the in- habitants by the sale of their booty, and the thoughtless prodigality of their crews, were welcome guests in every place at which they touched. The convenient situation of these harbours, lying so near the greatest commer- cial states at that time in Christendom, made the brothers wish for an establishment in that country. An opportunity of accomplishing tin-. Juickly presented itself, which they did not suffer to pass unimproved, lutemi, king of Algiers, having attempted several times, without success, to take a fort which the Spanish governors of Oran had built not far from his capital, was so ill-advised as to apply for aid to Barbarossa, whose valour the Africans considered as irresistible. The active corsair gladly accepted of the invitation, and leaving his brother Hayradin with the fleet [1516], marched at the head of five thousand men to Alariers. where he EMPEROR CHARLES \r. 253 was received as their deliverer- Such a force gave him the command of the town ; and as he perceived that the Moors neither suspected him of any bad intentions, nor were capable with their I ight-armecf troops of op- posing his disciplined veterans, he secretly murdered the monarch whom he had come to assist, and proclaimed himself king of Algiers in his stead. The authority which he had thus boldly usurped, he endeavoured to establish by arts suited to the genius of the people whom he had to govern ; by liberality without bounds to those who favoured his promotion, and by cruelty no less unbounded towards all whom he had any reason to distrust. Not satisfied with the throne which he had acquired, he attacked the neigh- bouring king of Tremecen, and having vanquished him in battle, added his dominions to those of Algiers. At the same time he continued to infest the coast of Spain and Italy with fleets which resembled the armaments of a great monarch, rather than the light squadrons of a corsair. Their fre- quent and cruel devastations obliged Charles, about the beginning of his reign [1518], to furnish the marquis de Comares, governor of Oran, with troops sufficient to attack him. That officer, assisted by the dethroned king of Tremecen, executed the commission with such spirit, that Barba- rossa's troops being beat in several encounters, he himself was shut up in Tremecen. After defending it to the last extremity, he was overtaken in attempting to make his escape, and slain while he fought with an obstinate valour, worthy his former fame and exploits. His brother Hayradin, known likewise by the name of Barbarossa, as- sumed the sceptre of Algiers with the same ambition and abilities, but with better fortune. His reign being undisturbed by the arms of the Spaniards, which had full occupation in the wars among the European powers, he regulated with admirable prudence the interior police of his kingdom, carried on his naval operations with great vigour, and extended his conquest on the continent of Africa. But perceiving that the Moors and Arabs submitted to his government with the utmost reluctance, and being afraid that his continual depredations would, one day, draw upon him the arms of the Christians, he put his dominions under the protection of the Grand Seignior, and received from him a body of Turkish soldiers sufficient for his security against his domestic as well as his foreign enemies. At last, the fame of his exploits daily increasing, Solyman offered him the command of the Turkish fleet, as the only person whose valour and skill in naval affairs entitled him to command against Andrew Doria, the greatest sea-officer of that age. Proud of this distinction, Barbarossa repaired to Constantinople, and with a wonderful versatility of mind, mingling the arts of a courtier with the boldness of a corsair, gained the entire confidence both of the sultan and his vizier. To them he communicated a scheme which he had formed of making himself master of Tunis, the most flourish- ing kingdom, at that time, on the coast of Africa ; and this being approved of by them, he obtained whatever he demanded for carrying it into execution. His hopes of success in this undertaking were founded on the intestine divisions in the kingdom of Tunis. Mahmed, the last king of that country, having thirty-four sons by different wives, appointed Muley-Hacsen, one of the youngest among them, to be his successor. That weak prince, who owed this preference, not to his own merit, but to the ascendant which his mother had acquired over a monarch doating with age, first poisoned Mah- med his father in order to prevent him from altering his destination with respect to the succession ; and then, with the barbarous policy which pre- vails wherever polygamy is permitted, and the right ot succession is not precisely fixed, he put to death all his brothers whom he could get into his power. Ahaschid, one of the eldest, was so fortunate as to escape his rage ; and finding a retreat among the wandering Arabs, made several attempts, by the assistance of some of their chiefs, tr> recover the throne, which of 254 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. right belonged lo him. But these proving unsuccessful, and the Arabs, from their natural levity, being ready to deliver him up to his merciless brother, he fled to Algiers, the only place of refuge remaining, and implored the protection of Barbarossa, who, discerning at once all the advantages which might be gained by supporting his title, received him with every possible demonstration of friendship and respect. Being ready, at that lime, to set sail for Constantinople, he easily persuaded Alraschid, whose eagerness to obtain a crown disposed him to believe or undertake any thing, to accompany him thither, promising him effectual assistance from Solyman, whom he represented to be the most generous, as well as most powerful monarch in the world. But no sooner were they arrived at Con- stantinople, than the treacherous corsair, regardless of all his promises to him, opened to the sultan a plan for conquering Tunis, and annexing it to the Turkish empire, by making use of the name of this exiled prince, and co-operating with the party in the kingdom which was ready to declare in his favour. Solyman approved, with too much facility, of this perfidious proposal, extremely suitable to the character of its author, but altogether unworthy of a great prince. A powerful fleet and numerous army were soon assembled ; at the sight of which the credulous Alraschid flattered himself that he should soon enter his capital in triumph. But just as this unhappy prince was going to embark, he was arrested by order of the sultan, shut up in the seraglio, and was never heard of more. Barbarossa sailed with a fleet of two hundred and fifty vessels towards Africa. After ravaging the coasts of Italy, and spreading terror through every part of that country, he appeared before Tunis ; and landing his men, gave out that he came to assert the right of Alraschid, whom he pretended to have left sick aboard the admiral galley. The fort of Goletta, which commands the bay, soon fell into his hands, partly by his own address, partly by the treachery of its commander ; and the inhabitants of Tunis, weary of Muley-Hascen's government, took arms, and declared for Alraschid with such zeal and unanimity as obliged the former to fly so precipitately, that he left all his treasures behind him. The gates were immediately set open to Barbarossa, as the restorer of their lawful sove- reign. But when Alraschid himself did not appear, and when instead of his name, that of Solyman alone was heard among the acclamations of the Turkish soldiers marching into the town, the people of Tunis began to suspect the corsair's treachery. Their suspicions being soon converted into certainty, they ran to arms, with the utmost fury, and surrounded the citadel, into which Barbarossa had led his troops. But having foreseen such a revolution, he was not unprepared for it ; he immediately turned against them the artillery on the ramparts, and by one brisk discharge, dis- persed the numerous but undirected assailants, and forced them to acknow- ledge Solyman as their sovereign, and to submit to himself as his viceroy. His first care was to put the kingdom, of which he had thus got pos- session, in a proper posture of defence. He strengthened the citadel which commands the town ; and fortifying the Goletta in a regular manner, at vast expense, made it the principal station for his fleet, and his great arsenal for military as well as' naval stores. Being now possessed of such extensive territories, he carried on his depredations against the Christian states to a greater extent, and with more destructive violence than ever. Daily complaints of the outrages committed by his cruisers were brought to the emperor by his subjects, both in Spain and Italy. All Christendom seemed to expect from him, as its greatest and most fortunate prince, that he would put an end tp this new and odious species of oppression. At the same time Muley-Hascen, the exiled king of Tunis, finding none of the Mahometan princes in Africa willing or able to assist him in recovering his throne, applied to Charles (April 21,1535), as the only person who ''ould a^ert bi-^ rights m opposition to such a formidable usurper. Th< EMPEROR CHARLES \. 2S9 tuiperor, equally desirous of delivering bis dominions from the dangerous neighbourhood of Barbarossa ; of appearing as the protector ot an unfor- tunate prince; and of acquiring the glory annexed in that age to every expedition against the Mahometans, readily concluded a treaty with Muley- Hascen, and began to prepare for invading Tunis. Having made trial of his own abilities for war in the late campaign in Hungary, he was now become so fond of the military character, that he determined to command on this occasion in person. The united strength of his dominions was called out upon an enterprise in which the emperor was about to hazard his glory, and which drew the attention of all Europe. A Flemish fleet carried from the ports of the Low-Country a body of German infantry ;* the galleys of Naples and Sicily took on board the veteran bands ot* Italians and Spaniards, which had distinguished themselves by so many victories over the French ; the emperor himself embarked at Barcelona ■with the flower of the Spanish nobility, and was joined by a considerable squadron from Portugal, under the command of the Infant Don Lewis, the empress's brother ; Andrew Doria conducted his own galleys, the best appointed at that time in Europe, and commanded by the most skilful officers ; the pope furnished all the assistance in his power towards such a pious enterprise ; and the order of Malta, the perpetual enemies of the Infidels, equipped a squadron, which, though small, was formidable by the valour of the knights who served on board it. The port of Cagliari in Sardinia was the general place of rendezvous. Doria was appointed high- admiral of the fleet ; the command of the land forces under the emperor was given to the Marquis de Guasto. On the sixteenth of July, the fleet, consisting of near five hundred vessels, having on board above thirty thousand regular troops, set sail from Cagliari, and after a prosperous navigation landed within sight of Tunis. Barbarossa having received early intelligence of the emperor's immense armament, and suspecting its destination, prepared with equal prudence and vigour for the defence of his new conquest. He called in all his corsairs from their different stations ; he drew from Algiers what forces could be spared ; he despatched messengers to all the African princes, Moors as well as Arabs, and by representing Muley-Hascen as an infamous apostate, prompted by ambition and revenge, not only to become the vassal of a Christian prince, but to conspire with him to extirpate the Mahomedan faith, he in- flamed those ignorant and bigoted chiefs to such a degree, that they took arms as in a common cause. Twenty thousand horse, together with a great body of foot, soon assembled at Tunis ; and by a proper distribution ot presents among them from time to time, Barbarossa kept the ardour which had brought them together from subsiding. But as he was too well ac- quainted with the enemy whom he had to oppose, to think that these light troops could resist the heavy-armed cavalry and veteran infantry which composed the Imperial army, his chief confidence was in the strength oi the Goletta, and in his body of Turkish soldiers, who were armed and disciplined after the European fashion. Six thousand of these, under the command of Sinan, a renegado Jew, the bravest and most experienced of all his corsairs, he threw into that fort, which the emperor immediately in- vested. As Charles had the command of the sea, his camp was so plen- tifully supplied not only with the neeessaries, but with all the luxuries of life, that Muley-Hascen, who had not been accustomed to see war carried on with such order and magnificence, was filled with admiration of the emperor's power. His troops, animated by his presence, and considering it as meritorious to shed their blood in such a pious cause, contended with each other for the posts of' honour and danger. Three separate attack* were concerted, and the Germans, Spaniards, and Italians, having one ol • Herei Annals Brabant i SOS i*56 THE REIGN OF THE [Book V. these committed to each of them, pushed them forwara with the eager courage which national emulation inspires. Sinan displayed resolution and skill becoming the confidence which his master had put in him ; the gar- rison performed the hard service on which they were ordered with great fortitude. But though he interrupted the besiegers by frequent sallies, though the Moors and Arabs alarmed the camp with their continual incur- sions ; the breaches soon became so considerable towards the land, while the fleet battered those parts of the fortifications which it could approach, with no less fury and success, that an assault being given on all sides at once, the place was taken by storm [July 25]. Sinan, with the remains of his garrison, retired after an obstinate resistance, over a shallow part of the bay towards the city. By the reduction of the Goletta, the emperor be- came master of Barbarossa's fleet, consisting of eighty-seven galleys and galliots, together with his arsenal, and three hundred cannon, mostly brass, which were planted on the ramparts ; a prodigious number in that age, and a remarkable proof of the strength of the fort, as well as of the greatness of the corsair's power. The emperor marched into the Goletta, through the breach, and turning to Muley-Hascen who attended him, " Here," says he, " is a gate open to you, by which you shall return to take possession of your dominions." Barbarossa, though he felt the full weight of the blow which he had received, did not, however, lose courage or abandon the defence of Tunis. But as the walls were of great extent, and extremely weak ; as he could not depend on the fidelity of the inhabitants, nor hope that the Moors and Arabs would sustain the hardships of a siege, he boldly determined to advance with his army, which amounted to fifty thousand men,* towards the Imperial camp, and to decide the fate of his kingdom by the issue of a battle. This resolution he communicated to his principal officers, and representing to them the fatal consequences which might follow, if ten thousand Christian slaves, whom he had shut up in the citadel, should attempt to mutiny during the absence of the army, he proposed as a neces- sary precaution ior the public security, to massacre them without mercy before he began his march. They all approved warmly of his intention to fight ; but inured as they were, in their piratical depredations, to scenes of bloodshed and cruelty, the barbarity of his proposal, concerning the slaves, filled them with horror ; and Barbarossa, rather from the dread of irritating them, than swayed by motives of humanity, consented to spare the lives of the slaves. By this time the emperor had begun to advance towards Tunis; and though his troops suffered inconceivable hardships in their march, over burning sands, destitute of water, and exposed to the intolerable heat of the sun, they soon came up with the enemy. The Moors and Arabs, em- boldened by their vast superiority in number, immediately rushed on to the attack with loud shouts, but their undisciplined courage could not long stand the shock of regular battalions ; and though Barbarossa, with ad- mirable presence of mind, and by exposing his own person to the greatest dangers, endeavoured to rally them, the rout became so general, that he himself was hurried along with them in their flight back to the city. There he found every thing in the utmost confusion ; some of the inha- bitants flying with their families and effects ; others ready to set open their gates to the conqueror ; the Turkish soldiers preparing to retreat ; and the citadel, which in such circumstances might have afforded him some refuge, already in the possession of the Christian captives. These unhappy men, rendered desperate by their situation, had laid hold on the opportunity which Barbarossa dreaded. As soon as his army was at some distance from the town, they gained two of their keepers, by whose assistance. • Epistres de Prince. ;>at RupcpIU. p. 3J6, fcc. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 25/ knocking off their letters, and bursting open tneir prisons* they overpowered the Turkish garrison, and turned the artillery of the fort against their former masters. Barbarossa, disappointed and enraged, exclaiming sometimes against the false compassion of his officers, arid sometimes condemning his own imprudent compliance with their opinion, fled precipitately to Bona. Meanwhile Charles, satisfied with the easy and almost bloodless victory which he had gained, and advancing slowly with the precaution necessary in an enemy's countiy, did not yet know the whole extent of his own good fortune. But at last, a messenger despatched by the slaves acquainted him with the success of their noble effort for the recovery of their liberty : and at the same time deputies arrived from the town, in order to present him the keys of their gates, and to implore his protection from military violence. While he was deliberating concerning the proper measures for this purpose, the soldiers, fearing that they should be deprived of the booty which they had expected, rushed suddenly, and without orders, into the town, and began to kill and plunder without distinction. It was then too late to restrain their cruelty, their avarice, or licentiousness. All the outrages of which soldiers are capable in the fury of a storm, all the excesses of which men can be guilty when their passions are heightened by the contempt and hatred which difference in manners and religion inspire, were committed. Above thirty thousand of the innocent inhabitants perished on that unhappy day, and ten thousand were carried away as slaves. Muley-Hascen took possession of a throne surrounded with car- nage, abhorred by his subjects on whom he had brought such calamities, and pitied even by those whose rashness had been the occasion of them. The emperor lamented the fatal accident which had stained the lustre of his victory; and amidst such a scene of horror there was but one spectacle that afforded him any satisfaction. Ten thousand Christian slaves, among whom were several persons of distinction, met him as he entered the town ; and falling upon their knees, thanked and blessed him as their deliverer. At the same time that Charles accomplished his promise to the Moorish king, of re-establishing him in his dominions, he did not neglect what was necessary for bridling the power of the African corsairs, for the security of his own subjects, and for the interest of the Spanish crown. In order to gain these ends, he concluded a treaty with Muley-Hascen on the following conditions,- that he should hold the kingdom of Tunis in fee of the crown of Spain, and do homage to the emperor as his liege lord; that all the Christian slaves now within his dominions, of whatever nation, should be- set at liberty without ransom ; that no subject of the emperor's should For the future be detained in servitude; that no Turkish corsair should be admitted into the ports of his dominions ; that free trade, together with the public exercise of the Christian religion, should be allowed to the empe- ror's subjects; that the emperor should not only retain the Goletta, but that all the other sea ports in the kingdom which were fortified should be put into his hands ; that Muley-Hascen should pay annually twelve thousand crowns for the subsistence of the Spanish garrison in the Goletta ; that he should enter into no alliance with any of the emperor's enemies, and should present to him every year, as an acknowledgment of his vassalage, six Moorish horses, and as many hawks.* Having thus settled the affairs of Africa ; chastised the insolence of the corsairs ; secured a safe retreat for the ships of his subjects, and a proper station to his own fleets, on that coast from which he was most infested by piratical depredations; Charles embarked a;ir Belleforest, p. 119,-120, Ice. Anion, fontii Consentini Hid tarbnr. ap. Mattbsi \nalects, Vot.. !' 258 THE REIGN OF THE [Book yf By this expedition, the merit of which seems to have been estimated in that age, rather by the apparent generosity of the undertaking, the mag- nificence with which it was conducted, and the success which crowned it, than by the importance of the consequences that attended it, the emperor attained a greater height of glory, than at any other period of his reign. Twenty thousand slaves whom he freed from bondage, either by his arms, or by his treaty with Muley-Hascen,* each of whom he clothed and furnished with the means of returning to their respective countries, spread over all Europe the fame of their benefactor's munificence, extolling his power and abilities with the exaggeration flowing from gratitude and admiration. In comparison with him, the other monarchs in ^Europe made an inconsiderable figure. They seemed to be solicitous about nothing but their private and particular interests; while Charles, with an elevation of sentiment which became the first prince in Christendom, appeared to be concerned for the honour of the Christian name, and attentive to the public security and welfare. BOOK VI. Unfortunately for the reputation of Francis I. among his contem- poraries, his conduct at this juncture appeared a perfect contrast to that of his rival, as he laid hold on the opportunity afforded him, by the emperor's having turned his whole force against the common enemy of Christendom, to revive his pretensions in Italy, and to plunge Europe into a new war. The treaty of Cambray, as has been observed, did not remove the causes of enmity between the two contending princes ; it covered up, but did not extinguish the flames of discord. Francis in particular, who waited with impatience for a proper occasion of recovering the reputation as well as the territories which he had lost, continued to carry on his negotiations in different courts against the emperor, taking the utmost pains to heighten the jealousy which many princes entertained of his power or designs, and to inspire the rest with the same suspicion and fear: among others, he applied to Francis Sforza, who, though indebted to Charles for the pos- session of the dutchy of Milan, had received it on such hard conditions, as rendered him not only a vassal of the empire, but a tributary dependant upon the emperor. The honour of having married the emperor's niece did not reconcile him to this ignominious state of subjection, which became so intolerable even to Sforza, though a weak and poor-spirited prince, that he listened with eagerness to the first proposals Francis made of rescuing him trom the yoke. These proposals were conveyed to him by Mara- viglia, or Merveille, as he is called by the French historians, a Milanese gentleman residing at Paris ; and soon after, in order to carry on the nego-^ tiation with greater advantage, Merveille was sent to Milan, on pretence of visiting his relations, but with secret credentials from Francis as his envoy. In this character he was received by Sforza. But, notwithstanding his care to keep that circumstance concealed, Charles suspecting, or having received information of it, remonstrated and threatened in such a high tone, that the duke and his ministers, equally intimidated, gave the world immediately a most infamous proof of their servile fear of offending the emperor. As Merveille had neither the prudence nor the temper which the function wherein he was employed required, they artfully decoyed him * Summonte :>;?f. rli -Sao. vol. it- » MB. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 269 into a quarrel, in which he happened to kill his antagonist, one of the duke's domestics, and having instantly seized him, they ordered him to be tried for that crime, and to be beheaded [Dec. 1533]. Francis, no less astonished at this violation of a character held sacred among the most uncivilized nations, than enraged at the insult offered to the dignity of his crown, threatened Sforza with the effects of his indignation, and complained to the emperor, whom he considered as the real author of that unexampled outrage. But receiving no satisfaction from either, he appealed to all the princes of Europe, and thought himself now entitled to take vengeance for an injury, which it would have been indecent and pusillanimous to let pass with impunity. Being thus furnished with a pretext for beginning a war, on which he had already resolved, he multiplied his efforts in order to draw in other princes to take part in the quarrel. But all his measures for this purpose were disconcerted by unforeseen events. After having sacrificed the honour of the royal family of France by the marriage of his son with Catherine of Medici, in order to gain Clement the death of that pontiff had deprived him of all the advantages which he expected to derive from his friendship. Paul, his successor, though attached by inclination to the Imperial interest, seemed determined to maintain the neutrality suitable to his character as the common father of the contending princes. The king of England, occu- pied with domestic cares and projects, declined, foronce, engaging in the affairs of the continent, and refused to assist Francis, unless he would imitate his example, in throwing off the papal supremacy. These disappoint- ments led him to solicit, with greater earnestness, the aid of the protestant princes associated by the league of Smalkalde. That he might the more easily acquire their confidence, he endeavoured to accommodate himself to their predominant passion, zeal for their religious tenets. He affected a wonderful moderation with regard to the points in dispute ; he permitted Bellay, his envoy in Germany, to explain his sentiments concerning some of the most important articles, in terms not far different from those used by the protestants :* he even condescended to invite Melancthon, whose gentle manners and pacific spirit distinguished him among the reformers, to visit Paris, that by his assistance he might concert the most proper measures for reconciling the contending sects which so unhappily divided the church. t These concessions must be considered rather as arts of policy, than the result of conviction ; for whatever impression the new opinions in religion had made on his sisters, the queen of Navarre and dutchessof Ferrara, the gayety of Francis's own temper, and his love of pleasure, allowed him little leisure to examine theological controversies. But soon after he lost all the fruits of this disingenuous artifice, by a step very inconsistent with his declarations to the German princes. This step, however, the prejudices of the age, and the religious sentiments of his own subjects, rendered it necessary for him to take. His close union with the king of England, an excommunicated heretic; his frequent negotiations with the German protestants; but above all, his giving public audi- ence to an envoy from sultan Solyman, had excited violent suspicions concerning the sincerity of his attachment to religion. To have attacked the emperor, who, on all occasions, made high pretensions to zeal in defence of the catholic faith, and at the very juncture when he was pre- paring for his expedition against Barbarossa, which was then considered as a pious enterprise, could not have failed to confirm such unfavourable sen- timents with regard to Francis, and called on him to vindicate himself by >ome extraordinary demonstration of his reverence for the established doc- trines of the church. The indiscreet zeal of some of his subjects, who had ' F-'rcli^ri Sen; t. K.r. German, iii. T>i, &.<■. Sleid. Hist. ITS. 383. SccXcnd. liJ>. iii. 103. 1 Camerarii Vita Ph. Mclancthoiiis, 1:2°. Hag. 1U55. p. 12. 260 THE REIGN OF THE [Book Vi. imbibed the protestant opinions, furnished him with such an occasion as ho desired. They had affixed to the gates of the Louvre, and other public places, papers containing indecent reflections on the doctrines and rites of (he popish church. Six of the persons concerned in this rash action were discovered and seized. The king, in order to avert the judgments which it was supposed their blasphemies might draw down upon the nation, appointed a solemn procession. The holy sacrament was carried through the city in great pomp ; Francis walked uncovered before it, bearing a torch in his hand; the princes of the blood supported the canopy over it; the nobles marched in order behind. In the presence of this numerous assembly, the king, accustomed to express himself on every subject in strong and animated language, declared, that if one of his hands were infected with heresy, he would cut it off with the other, and would not apare even his own children, if found guilty of that crime. As a dreadful proof of his being in earnest, the six unhappy persons were publicly burnt before the procession was finished, with circumstances of the most shocking barbarity attending their execution.* The princes of the league of Smalkalde, filled with resentment and indignation at the cruelty with which their brethren were treated, could not conceive Francis to be sincere, when he offered to protect in Germany those very tenets, which he persecuted with such rigour in his own domi- nions ; so that all Bellay's art and eloquence in vindicating his master, or apologising for his conduct, made but little impression upon them. They considered likewise, that the emperor, who hitherto had never employed violence against the doctrines of the reformers, nor even given them much molestation in their progress, was now bound by the agreement at Ratis- bon, not to disturb such as had embraced the new opinions ; and the pro- testants wisely regarded this as a more certain and immediate security, than the precarious and distant hopes with which Francis endeavoured to allure them. Besides, the manner in which he had behaved to his allies at the peace of Cambray, was too recent to be forgotten, and did not en- courage others to rely much on his friendship or generosity. Upon all these accounts, the protestant* princes refused to assist the French king in any hostile attempt against the emperor. The elector of Saxony, the most zealous among them, in order to avoid giving any umbrage to Charles, would not permit Melancthon to visit the court of France, although that, reformer, flattered perhaps by the invitation of so great a monarch, or hoping that his presence there might be of signal advantage to the pro- testant cause, discovered a strong inclination to undertake the journey.! But though none of the many princes who envied or dreaded the power of Charles, would second Francis's efforts in order to reduce and circum- scribe it, he, nevertheless, commanded his army to advance towards the frontiers of Italy. As his sole pretext for taking arms was that he might chastise the duke of Milan for his insolent and cruel breach of the law of nations, it might have been expected that the whole weight of his vengeance was to have fallen on his territories. But on a sudden, and at their very commencement, the operations of war took another direction. Charles duke of Savoy, one ol the least active and able princes of the line from which he descended, had married Beatrix of Portugal, the sister of the empress. By her great talents, she soon acquired an absolute ascendant over her husband ; and proud of her affinity to the emperor, or allured by the magnificent promises with which he flattered her ambition, she formed a union between the duke and the Imperial court, extremely inconsistent with that neutrality which wise policy as well as the situation of his domi- nions had hitherto induced him to observe in all the quarrels between the * ItelcHrii Comnmnt. Rec Gallic *'-l. Hist de la Reformation de Suisse, par Rouchat. Gen. 1JS8. torn. iv. p. 294, tec. tour. v. p. 216, &c. Mem. de Bellay, 191. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 263 By this unexpected event, the nature of the war, and the causes of dis- cord, were totally changed. Francis's first pretext for taking arms, in order to chastise Sforza for the insult offered to the dignity of his crown, was at once cut off; but as that prince died without issue, all Francis's rights to the dutchy of Milan, which he had yielded only to Sforza and his posterity, returned back to him in full force. As the recovery of the Milanese was the favourite object of that monarch, he instantly renewed his claim to it ; and if he had supported his pretensions by ordering the powerful army quartered in Savoy to advance without losing a moment towards Milan, he could hardly have failed to secure the important point of possession. But Francis, who became less enterprising as he advanced in years, and who was overawed at some times into an excess of caution by the remembrance of his past misfortunes, endeavoured to establish his rights by negotiation, not by arms ; and from a timid moderation, fatal in all great affairs, neglected to improve the favourable opportunity which presented itself. Charles was more decisive in his operations, and in quality of sovereign, took possession of the dutchy, as a vacant fief of the empire. While Francis endeavoured to explain and assert his title to it by arguments and memorials, or employed various arts in order to recon- cile the Italian powers to the thoughts of his regaining footing in Italy, his rival was silently taking effectual steps to prevent it. The emperor, how- ever, was very careful not to discover too early any intention of this kind ; but seeming to admit the equity of Francis's claim, he appeared solicitous only about giving him possession in such a manner as might not disturb the peace of Europe, or overturn the balance of power in Italy, which the politicians of that country were so desirous of preserving. By this artifice he deceived Francis, and gained so much confidence with the rest of Europe, that almost without incurring any suspicion, he involved the affair in new difficulties, and protracted the negotiations at pleasure. Sometimes he proposed to grant the investiture of Milan to the duke of Orleans, Francis's second son, sometimes to the duke of Angouleme, his third son ; as the views and inclinations of the French court varied, he transferred his choice alternately from the one to the other, with such pro- found and well-conducted dissimulation, that neither Francis nor his minis- ters seem to have penetrated his real intention ; and all military operations were entirely suspended, as if nothing had remained but to enter quietly into possession of what they demanded. 1536.] During the interval of leisure gained in this manner, Charles, on his return from Tunis, assembled the states both of Sicily and Naples, and as they thought themselves greatly honoured by the presence of their sove- reign, and were no less pleased with the apparent disinterestedness of his expedition into Africa, than dazzled by the success which had attended his arms, he prevailed on them to vote him such liberal subsidies as were seldom granted in that age. This enabled him to recruit his veteran troops, to levy a body of Germans, and to take every other proper pre- caution for executing or supporting the measures on which he had deter- mined. Bellay, the French envoy in Germany, having discovered the intention of raising troops in that country, notwithstanding all the pretexts employed in order to conceal it, first alarmed his master with this evident proof of the emperor's insincerity.* But Francis was so possessed at that time with the rage of negotiation, in all the artifices and refinements of which his rival far surpassed him, that instead of beginning his military operations, and pushing them with vigour, or seizing the Milanese before the Imperial army was assembled, he satisfied himself with making new offers to the emperor, in order to procure the investiture by his voluntary deed. His offers were, indeed, • Mem de Bellay, 10-2. 264 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VI. so liberal and advantageous, that if ever Charles had intended to grant hi-^ demand, he could not nave rejected them with decency. He dexterously eluded them by declaring that until he consulted the pope in person, he could not take his final resolution with regard to a point which so nearly concerned the peace of Italy. By this evasion he gained some farther time for ripening the schemes which he had in view. The emperor at last advanced towards Rome, and made bis public entry into that city with extraordinary pomp [April 6] ; but it being found necessary to remove the ruins of an ancient temple of peace, in order to Aviden one of the streets through which the cavalcade had to pass, all the historians take notice of this trivial circumstance, and they are fond to interpret it as an omen of the bloody war that followed. Charles, it is certain, had by this time banished all thoughts of peace ; and at last threw off the mask, with which he had so long covered his designs from the court of France, by a declaration of his sentiments no less singular than explicit. The French ambassadors having in their master's name demanded a de- finitive reply to his propositions concerning the investiture of Milan, Charles promised to give it next day in presence of the pope and cardi- nals assembled in full consistory. These being accordingly met, and all the foreign ambassadors invited to attend, the emperor stood up, and ad- dressing himself to the pope, expatiated for some time on the sincerity ot his own wishes for the peace of Christendom, as well as his abhorrence of war, the miseries of which he enumerated at great length, with studied and elaborate oratory ; he complained that all nis endeavours to preserve the tranquillity of Europe had hitherto been defeated by the restless and unjust ambition of the French king ; that even during his minority he had proofs of the unfriendly and hostile intentions of that monarch ; that, after- wards, he had openly attempted to wrest from him the Imperial crown which belonged to him by a title no less just than natural ; that he had next invaded his kingdom of Navarre ; that not satisfied with this, he bad attacked his territories, as well as those of his allies, both in Italy and the Low-Countries ; that when the valour of the Imperial troops, rendered irresistible by the protection of "the Almighty, had checked his progres-, ruined his armies, and seized his person, he continued to pursue by deceit what he had undertaken with injustice ; that he had violated every artich in the treaty of Madrid to which he owed his liberty, and as soon as he returned to his dominions took measures for rekindling the war which that pacification had happily extinguished ; that when new misfortunes com- pelled him to sue again for peace at Cambray, he concluded and observed it with equal insincerity ; that soon after he had formed dangerous con- nections with the heretical princes in Germany, and incited them to dis- lurb the tranquillity of the empire ; that now he had driven the duke of Savoy, a prince married to a sister of the empress, and joined in close, alliance with Spain, out of the greater part of his territories ; that after injuries so often repeated, and amidst so many sources of discord, all hope ot amity or concord became desperate, and though he himself was still willing to grant the investiture ot Milan to one of the princes of France, there was little probability of that event taking place, as Francis, on the one hand, would not consent to what was necessary for securing the tram quillity of Europe, nor, on the other, could he think it reasonable or safe to give a rival the unconditional possession of all that he demanded. "Let us not, however," added he, " continue wantonly to shed the blood of our innocent subjects; let us decide the quarrel man to man, with what arms he pleases to choose, in our shirts, on an island, a bridge, or aboard a galley moored in a river ; let the dutchy of Burgundy be put in deposite on his part, and that of Milan on mine ; these shall be the prize of the conqueror ; and after that, let the united forces of Germany, Spain, and France be em- ployed to humble the power of the Turk, and to extirpate heresy out of EMPEROR CHARLES V. 265 Christendom. But if he, by declining this method of terminating our dif- ferences, renders war inevitable, nothing shall divert me from prosecuting it to such extremity, as shall reduce one of us to be the poorest gentleman in his own dominions. Nor do I fear that it will be on me this misfortune shall fall ; I enter upon action with the fairest prospect of success ; the justness of my cause, the union of my subjects, the number and valour of my troops, the experience and fidelity of my generals, all combine to en- sure it. Of all these advantages, the king of France is destitute ; and were my resources no more certain, and my hopes of victory no better founded than his, I would instantly throw myself at his feet, and with folded hands, and a rope about my neck, implore his mercy."* This long harangue the emperor delivered with an elevated voice, a haughty tone, and the greatest vehemence of expression and gesture. The French ambassadors, who did not fully comprehend his meaning, as he spake in the Spanish tongue, were totally disconcerted, and at a loss how they should answer such an unexpected invective ; when one of them began to vindicate his master's conduct, Charles interposed abruptly, and would not permit him to proceed. The pope, without entering into any particular detail, satisfied himself with a short but pathetic recommenda- tion of peace, together with an offer of employing his sincere endeavours in order to procure that blessing to Christendom ; and the assembly broke up in the greatest astonishment at the extraordinary scene which had been exhibited. In no part of his conduct, indeed, did Charles ever deviate so widely from his general character. Instead of that prudent recollection, that composed and regular deportment so strictly attentive to decorum, and so admirably adapted to conceal his own passions, for which be was at all other times conspicuous, he appears on this occasion before one of the most august assemblies in Europe, boasting of his own power and exploits with insolence ; inveighing against his enemy with indecency ; and challenging him to combat with an ostentatious valour, more becoming a champion in romance, than the first monarch in Christendom. But the well known and powerful operation of continued prosperity, as well as of exaggerated praise, even upon the firmest minds, sufficiently account for this seeming inconsistency. After having compelled Solyman to retreat, and having stripped Barbarossa of a kingdom, Charles began to consider his arms as invincible. He had been entertained, ever since his return from Africa, with repeated scenes of triumphs and public rejoicings ; the orators and poets of Italy, the most elegant at that time in Europe, had exhausted their genius in panegyric on his conduct and merit, to which the astrologers added magnificent promises of a more splendid fortune still in store. Intoxicated with all these, he forgot his usual reserve and modera- tion, and was unable to restrain this extravagant sally of vanity, which became the more remarkable, by being both so uncommon and so public. He himself seems to have- been immediately sensible of the impropriety of his behaviour ; and when the French ambassadors demanded next day a more clear explanation of what he had said concerning the combat, he told them that they were not to consider his proposal as a formal challenge to their master, but as an expedient for preventing bloodshed ; he endea- voured to soften several expressions in his discourse ; and spoke in terms full of respect towards Francis. But though this slight apology was far from being sufficient to remove the offence which had been given, Francis, by an unaccountable infatuation, continued to negotiate, as if it had still been possible to bring their differences to a period by an amicable compo- sition.! Charles, finding him so eager to run into the snare, favoured the deception, and, by seeming to listen to his proposals, gained farther time to prepare for the execution of his own designs. * Bejlay, 199. Sandov. Hi?tor. Id Enipcr. ii. 9$, f Mem. de Bcllatr, 205. &c, Vol. IL—M 266 THE REIGN OF THE [BookVI. At last, the Imperial army assembled on the frontiers of the Milanese, to the amount of forty thousand foot and ten thousand horse, while that of France encamped near Vercelli in Piedmont, being greatly inferior in number, and weakened by the departure of a body of Swiss, whom Charles artfully persuaded the popish cantons to recall, that they might not serve against the duke of Savoy, their ancient ally. The French general not daring to risk a battle, retired as soon as the Imperialists advanced. The emperor put himself at the head of his forces [May 6], which the marquis del Guasto, the duke of Alva, and Ferdinand de Gonzago commanded under him, though the supreme direction of the whole was committed to Antonio de Leyva, whose abilities and experience justly entitled him to that distinction. Charles soon discovered his intention not to confine his operations to the recovery of Piedmont and Savoy, but to push forward and invade the southern provinces of France. This scheme he had long meditated, and had long been taking measures for executing it with such vigour as might ensure success. He had remitted large sums to his sister, the governess of the Low-Countries, and to bis brother, the king of the Romans, instructing them to levy all the forces in their power, in order to form two separate bodies, the one to enter France on the side of Picardy, the other on the side of Champagne ; while he, with the main army, fell upon the opposite frontier of the kingdom. Trusting to these vast prepa- ration, he thought it impossible that Francis could resist so many unex- pected attacks on such different quarters ; and began his enterprise with such confidence of its happy issue, that he desired Jovius the historian, to make a large provision of paper sufficient to record the victories which he was going to obtain. His ministers and generals, instead of entertaining the same sanguine hopes, represented to him in the strongest terms the danger of leading his troops so far from his own territories, to such a distance from his maga- zines, and into provinces which did not yield sufficient subsistence for their own inhabitants. They entreated him to consider the inexhaustible resources of France in maintaining a defensive war, and the active zeal with which a gallant nobility wOuld serve a prince whom they loved, in repelling the enemies of their country ; they recalled to his remembrance the fatal miscarriage of Bourbon and Pescara, when they ventured upon the same enterprise under circumstances which seemed as certainly to pro- mise success ; the marquis del Guasto in particular fell on his knees, and conjured him to abandon the undertaking as desperate. But many circum- stances combined in leading Charles to disregard all their remonstrances. He could seldom be brought, on any occasion, to depart from a resolution which he had once taken ; he was too apt to underrate and despise the talents of his rival the king of France, because they differed so widely from his own ; he was blinded by the presumption which accompanies' prosperity ; and relied, perhaps, in some degree, on the prophecies which predicted the increase of his own grandeur. He not only adhered obsti- nately to his own plan, but determined to advance towards France without waiting for the reduction of any part of Piedmont, except such towns as were absolutely necessary for preserving his communication with the Milanese. The marquis de Saluces, to whom Francis had intrusted the command of a small body of troops left for the defence of Piedmont, rendered this more easy than Charles had any reason to expect. That nobleman, educated in the court of F ranee, distinguished by continual marks of the king's favour, and honoured so lately with a charge of such importance, suddenly, and without any provocation or pretext of disgust revolted from his benefactor. His motives to this treacherous action were as childish as the deed itself was base. Being strongly possessed with a superstitious faith in divination and astrology, he believed with full assurance, that tin EMPEROR CHARLES V. 267 fatal period of the French nation was at hand ; that on its ruins the empe- ror would establish a universal monarchy ; that therefore he ought to follow the dictates of prudence, in attaching himself to his rising fortune, and could incur no blame for deserting a prince whom Heaven had devoted to destruction.* His treason became still more odious, by his employing that very authority, with which Francis had invested him, in order to open the kingdom to his enemies. Whatever measures were proposed or undertaken by the officers under his command for the defence of their conquests, he rejected or defeated. Whatever properly belonged to him- self, as commander in chief, to provide or perlorm for that purpose, he totally neglected. In this manner, he rendered towns even of the greatest consequence, untenable, by leaving them destitute either of provisions, ammunition, artillery, or a sufficient garrison ; and the Imperialists must have reduced Piedmont in as short a time as was necessary to march through it, if Montpezat, the governor of Fossano, had not, by an extra- ordinary effort of courage and military conduct, detained them almost a month before that inconsiderable place. By this meritorious and seasonable service, he gained his master suffi- cient time for assembling his forces, and for conceiting a system of defence against a danger which he now saw to be inevitable. Francis fixed on the only proper and eifectual plan for defeating the invasion of a powerful enemy ; and his prudence in choosing this plan, as well as his perseve- rance in executing it, deserve the greater praise, as it was equally con- trary to his own natural temper, and to the genius of the French nation. He determined to remain altogether upon the defensive ; never to hazard a battle, or even a great skirmish without certainty of success; to fortify his camps in a regular manner; to throw garrisons only into towns of great strength ; to deprive the enemy of subsistence, by laying waste the coun- try before them ; and to save the whole kingdom, by sacrificing one of its provinces. The execution of this plan he committed entirely to the marechal Montmorency, who was the author of it ; a man wonderfully fitted by nature for such a trust, haughty, severe, confident in his own abilities, and despising those of other men ; incapable of being diverted from any resolution by remonstrances or entreaties ; and, in prosecuting any scheme, regardless alike of love or of pity. Montmorency made choice of a strong camp, under the walls of Avig- non, at the confluence of the Rhone and the Durance, one of which plen- tifully supplied his troops with all necessaries from the inland provinces, and the other covered his camp on that side where it was most probable the enemy would approach. He laboured with unwearied industry to render the fortifications of this camp impregnable, and assembled there a considerable army, though greatly inferior to that of the enemy ; while the king with another body of troops encamped at Valence higher up the Rhone. Marseilles and Aries were the only towns he thought it necessary to defend ; the former, in order to retain the command of the sea ; the latter, as the barrier of the province of Languedoc ; and each of these he furnished with numerous garrisons of his best troops, commanded by officers on whose fidelity and valour he could rely- The inhabitants of the other towns, as well as of the open country, were compelled to abandon their houses, and were conducted to the mountains, or to the camp at Avignon, or to the inland provinces. The fortifications of such places as might have afforded shelter or defence to the enemy, were thrown down. Corn, forage, and provisions of every kind, were carried away or destroyed ; all the mills and ovens were ruined, and the wells filled up or rendered useless. The devastation extended from the Alps to Mar- seilles, and from the -sea to the confines of Dauphine ; nor does history • Bellay. 222. a. 246. h. 26'd THE REIGN OF THE [Book VI. afford any instance among civilized nations, in which this cruel expedient for the public safety was employed with the same rigour. At length, the emperor arrived with the van of his army on the frontiers of Provence, and was still so possessed with confidence of success, that during a few days when he was obliged to halt until the rest of his troops came up, he began to divide his future conquests among his oflicers ; and, as a new incitement to serve him with zeal, gave them liberal promises of offices, lands, and honours in France.* The face of desolation, however, which presented itself to him, when he entered the country, began to damp his hopes, and convinced him that a monarch, who, in order to dis- tress an enemy, had voluntarily ruined one of his richest provinces, would defend the rest with desperate obstinacy. Nor was it long betbre he became sensible that Francis's plan of defence was as prudent as it appeared to be extraordinary. His fleet, on which Charles chiefly depended for subsistence, was prevented for some time by contrary winds, and other accidents to which naval operations are subject, from approaching the French coast ; even after its arrival, it afforded at best a precarious and scanty supply to such a numerous body of troops ;| nothing was to be found in the country itself for their support ; nor could they draw any considerable aid from the dominions of the duke of Savoy, exhausted already by maintaining two great armies. The emperor was no less embarrassed how to employ, than how to subsist his forces ; for though he was now in possession of almost an entire province, he could not be said to have the command of it, while he held only defenceless towns ; and while the French, besides their camp, at Avignon, continued masters of Marseilles and Aries. At first he thought of attacking their camp, and of terminating the war by one decisive blow ; but skilful officers who were appointed to view it, declared the attempt to be utterly impracticable. He then gave orders to invest Marseilles and Aries, hoping that the French would quit their advantageous post in order to relieve them ; but Montmorency adhering firmly to his plan, remained immoveable at Avignon, and the Imperialists met with such a warm reception from the garrisons of both towns, that they relinquished their enterprises with loss and disgrace. As a last effort, the emperor advanced once more towards Avignon, though with an army harassed by the perpetual incursions of small parties of the French light troops, weakened by diseases, and dispirited by disasters, which seemed the more intolerable, because they were unexpected. During these operations, Montmorency found himself exposed to greater danger from his own troops than from the enemy ; and their inconsiderate valour went near to have precipitated the kingdom into those calamities which he with such industry and caution had endeavoured to avoid. Unaccustomed to behold an enemy ravaging their country almost without control ; impatient of such long inaction ; unacquainted with the slow and remote, but certain effects of Montmorency's system of defence ; the French wished for a battle with no less ardour than the Imperialists. They considered the conduct of their general as a disgrace to their country. His caution they imputed to timidity ; his circumspection to want of spirit ; and the constancy with which he pursued his plan, to obstinacy or pride. These reflections, whispered at first among the soldiers and subalterns, were adopted, by degrees, by officers of high rank ; and as many of them envied Montmorency's favour with the king, and more were dissatisfied with his harsh disgusting manner, the discontent soon became great in his camp, which was filled with general murmurings, and almost open com- plaints against his measures. Montmorency, on whom the sentiments oi his own troops made as little impression as the insults of the enemy, adhered steadily to his system ; though, in order to "reconcile the army to * Bellav. 26fi. a. » Sairlov. ii. XI. EiMPEROR CHARLES V. *M his maxims, no less contrary to the genius of the nation, than to the ideas of war among undisciplined troops, he assumed an unusual affability in hi* deportment, and often explained, with great condescension, the motives of his conduct, the advantages which had already resulted from it, and the certain success with which it would be attended. At last, Francis joined his army at Avignon, which, having received several reinforcements, he now considered as of strength sufficient to face the enemy. As he had put no small constraint upon himself, in consenting that his troops should remain so long upon the defensive, it can hardly be doubted but that his fondness for what was daring and splendid, added to the impatience both of officers and soldiers, would at last have overruled Montmorency's salutary caution.* . Happily the retreat of the enemy delivered the kingdom from the dan- ger which any rash resolution might have occasioned. The emperor, alter spending two inglorious months in Provence, without having performed any thing suitable to his vast preparations, or that could justify the con- fidence with which he had boasted of his own power, found that besides Antonio de Levva, and other officers of distinction, he had lost one half of his troops by diseases or by famine ; and that the rest were in no condition to struggle any longer with calamities, by which so many of their com- panions had perished. Necessity, therefore, extorted from him orders to retire ; and though he was some time in motion before the French suspected his intention, a body of light troops, assisted by crowds of peasants, eager to be revenged on those who had brought such desolation on their country, hung upon the rear of the Imperialists, and by seizing every favourable opportunity of attacking them, threw them often into confusion. The road by which they fled, for they pursued their march with such disorder and precipitation that it scarcely deserves the name of a retreat, wa3 strewed with arms or baggage, which in their hurry and trepidation they had abandoned, and covered with the sick, the wounded, and the dead ; insomuch that Martin Bellay, an eye-witness of their calamities, endeavour"? to give his readers some idea of them, by comparing their miseries to those which the Jews suffered from the victorious and destructive arms of the Romans.! If Montmorency, at this critical moment, had advanced with all his forces, nothing could have saved the whole Imperial army from utter ruin. But that general, by standing so long and so obstinately on the defensive, had become cautious to excess ; his mind, tenacious of any bent it had once taken, could not assume a contrary one as suddenly as the change of circumstances required ; and he still continued to repeat his favourite maxims, that it was more prudent to allow the lion to escape than to drive him to despair, and that a bridge of gold should be made lor a retreating enemy. The emperor having conducted the shattered remains of his troops to the frontiers of Milan, and appointed the Marquis del Guasto to succeed Leyva in the government of that dutcbv, set out for Genoa. As he could not bear to expose himself to the scorn of the Italians, after such a sad reverse of fortune ; and did not choose, under his present circumstances, to revisit those cities through which he had so lately passed in triumph for one conquest, and in certain expectation of another, he embarked directly for SpainJ [November]. Nor was the progress of his arms on the opposite frontier of France such as to alleviate, in any degree, the losses which he had sustained in Provence. Bellay, by his address and intrigues, had prevailed on so many of the German princes to withdraw the contingent of troops which they had furnished to the king of the Romans, that he was obliged to lay 'Mem. de Bellay, 960, &c. 31?, kr. flMd. 318. Saratov. Higt de! EmpCT. it 232. (J Histor, lib. xrrv.p. 174, I 270 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VI. aside all thoughts of his intended irruption into Champagne. Though a powerful army levied in the Low-Countries entered Picardy, which they found hut feebly guarded, while the strength of the kingdom was drawn towards the south ; yet the nobility, taking arms with their usual alacrity, supplied by their spirit the defects of the king's preparations, and defended Peronne, and other towns which were attacked, with such vigour, as obliged the enemy to retire, without making any conquest of importance.* Thus Francis, by the prudence of his own measures, and by the union and valour of his subjects, rendered abortive those vast efforts in which his rival had almost exhausted his whole force. As this humbled the em- peror's arrogance no less than it checked his power, he was mortified more sensibly on this occasion than on any other, during the course of the long contests between him and the French monarch. One circumstance alone embittered the joy with which the success of the campaign inspired Francis. That was the death of the dauphin, his eldest son, a prince of great hopes, and extremely beloved by the people on account of his resemblance to his father. This happening suddenly, was imputed to poison, not only by the vulgar, fond of ascribing the death of illustrious personages to extraordinary causes, but by the king and his ministers. The count de Montecuculi, an Italian nobleman, cupbearer to the dauphin, being seized on suspicion, and put to the torture, openly charged the Imperial generals, Gonzaga and Leyva, with having instigated him to the commission of that crime ; he even threw out some indirect and obscure accusations against the emperor himself. At a time when all France was exasperated to the utmost against Charles, this uncertain and extorted charge was con- sidered as an incontestable proof of guilt ; while the confidence with which both he and his officers asserted their own innocence, together with the indignation, as well as horror, which they expressed on their being sup- posed capable of such a detestable action, were little attended to, and less regarded.! It is evident, however, that the emperor could have no induce- ment to perpetrate such a crime, as Francis was still in the vigour of life himself, and had two sons, besides the dauphin, grown up almost to the age of manhood. That single consideration, without mentioning the em- peror's general character, unblemished by the imputation of any deed resembling this in atrocity, is more than sufficient to counterbalance the weight of a dubious testimony uttered during the anguish of torture.]; According to the most unprejudiced historians, the dauphin's death was occasioned by his having drunk too freely of cold water after overheating himself at termis ; and this account, as it is the most simple, is likewise the most credible. But if his days were cut short by poison, it is not improbable that the emperor conjectured rightly, when he affirmed that it had been administered by the direction of Catharine of Medici, in order to secure the crown to the duke of Orleans, her husband.^ The advan- tages resulting to her by the dauphin's death were obvious as well as great ; nor did her boundless and daring ambition ever recoil from any action necessary towards attaining the objects which she had in view. 1537.] Next year opened with a transaction very uncommon, but so in- capable of producing any effect, that it would not deserve to be mentioned if it were not a striking proof of the personal animosity which mingled itself in all the hostilities between Charles and Francis, and which often betrayed them into such indecencies towards each other, as lessened the dignity of both. Francis, accompanied by the peers and princes of the blood, having taken his seat in the parliament of Paris with the usual solemnities, the advocate-general appeared ; and after accusing Charles ol Austria (for so he affected to call the emperor) of having violated the treaty * Mem. deBellay, 318, &>• • Hiid.289. • Sandov. Him. del liinuei. ii. 331 Zuniga Yi'lo dr Carle V. p. 75. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 871 of Cambray, by which he was absolved from the homage due to the crown of France for the countries of Artois and Flanders ; insisted that this treaty- being now void, he was still to be considered as a vassal of the crown, and by consequence had been guilty of rebellion in taking arms against his sovereign ; and therefore he demanded that Charles should be summoned to appear in person, or by his counsel, before the parliament of Paris, his legal judges, to answer for this crime. The request was granted ; a herald repaired to the frontiers of Picardy, and summoned him with the ac- customed formalities to appear against a day prefixed. That term being expired, and no person appearing in his name, the parliament gave judg- ment, " That Charles of Austria had forfeited by rebellion and contumacy those fiefs ; declared Flanders and Artois to be reunited to the crown of France !" and ordered their decree for this purpose to be published by sound of trumpet on the frontiers of these provinces.* Soon after this vain display of his resentment, rather than of his power, Francis marched towards the Low -Countries [March], as if he had intended to execute the sentence which his parliament had pronounced, and to seize those territories which it had awarded to him. As the queen of Hungary, to whom her brother the emperor had committed the government of that part of his dominions, was not prepared for so early a campaign, he at first made some progress, and took several towns of importance. But being obliged soon to leave his army, in order to superintend the operations of war, the Flemings, having assembled a numerous army, not only re- covered most of the places which they had lost, but began to make conquests in their turn. At last they invested Terouenne, and the duke of Orleans, now dauphin, by the death of his brother, and Montmorency, whom Francis had honoured with the constable's sword, as the reward of his great ser- vices during the former campaign, determined to hazard a battle in order to relieve it. While they were advancing for this purpose, and within a few miles of the enemy, they were stopped short by the arrival of a herald from the queen of Hungary, acquainting him that a suspension of arms was now agreed upon. This unexpected event was owing to the zealous endeavours of the two sisters, the queens of France and of Hungary, who had long laboured to reconcile the contending monarchs. The war in the Netherlands had laid waste the frontier provinces of both countries, without any real advantage to either. The French and Flemings equally regretted the interruption of their commerce, which was beneficial to both. Charles as well as Francis, who had each strained to the utmost, in order to support the vast operations of the former campaign, found that they could not now keep armies on foot in this quarter, without weakening their operations in Pied- mont, where both wished to push the war with the greatest vigour. All these circumstances facilitated the negotiations of the two queens ; a tmce was concluded [July 30th], to continue in force for ten months, but it ex- tended no farther than the Low -Countries.! In Piedmont the war was still prosecuted with great animosity; and though neither Charles nor Francis could make the powerful efforts to which this animosity prompted them, they continued to exert themselves like combatants, whose rancour remains after their strength is exhausted. Towns were alternately lost and retaken ; skirmishes were fought every day; and much blood was shed, without any action that gave a decided superiority to either side. At last the two queens, determined not to leave nnfinisherj the good work which they had begun, prevailed, by their im- portunate solicitations, the one on her brother, the other on her husband. to consent also to a truce in Piedmont for three months. The condition- * Letircs ct M moires d'Etat par Ktbier, 9 torn, ljloi? Kit'., torn. i. p.l Memoires de Ribier,56. 272 THE REIGN OF THE |Book VI. of it were, that each should kepp possession of what was in his hands, and after leaving garrisons in the towns, should withdraw his army out of the province ; that plenipotentiaries should be appointed to adjust all matters m dispute by a final treaty.* The powerful motives which inclined both princes to this accommoda- tion, have been often mentioned. The expenses of the war had far ex- ceeded the sums which their revenues were capable of supplying ; nor durst they venture upon any great addition to the impositions then estab- lished, as subjects had not yet learned to bear with patience the immense burdens to which they have become accustomed in modern times. The emperor in particular, though he had contracted debts which in that age appeared prodigious,! bad it not in his power to pay the large arrears long due to his army. At the same time, he had no prospect of deriving any aid in money or men either from the pope or Venetians, though he had employed promises and threats, alternately, in order to procure it. But he found the former not only fixed in bis resolution of adhering steadily to the neutrality which he had always declared to be suitable to his character, but passionately desirous of bringing about a peace. He perceived that the latter were still intent on their ancient object of holding the balance even between the rivals, and solicitous not to throw too great a weight into either scale. What made a deeper impression on Charles than all these, was the dread of the Turkish arms, which, by his league with Solyman, Francis had drawn upon him. Though Francis, without the assistance of a single ally, had a war to maintain against an enemy greatly superior in power to him- self, yet so great was the horror of Christians, in that age, at any union with infidels, which they considered not only as dishonourable but profane, that it was long before he could be brought to avail himself of the obvious advantages resulting from such a confederacy. Necessity at last sur- mounted his delicacy and scruples. Towards the close of the preceding year, La Forest, a secret agent at the Ottoman Porte, had concluded a treaty with the sultan, whereby Solyman engaged to invade the kingdom of Naples, during the next campaign, and to attack the king of the Romans in Hungary with a powerful army, while Francis undertook to enter the Milanese at the same time with a proper force. Solyman had punctu- ally performed what was incumbent on him. Barbarossa with a great fleet appeared on the coast of Naples, filled that kingdom, from which all the troops had been drawn towards Piedmont, with consternation, landed without resistance near Taranto, obliged Castro, a place of some strength, to surrender, plundered the adjacent country, and was taking measures for securing and extending his conquests, when the unexpected arrival of Doria, together with the pope's galleys, and a squadron of the Venetian fleet, made it prudent for him to retire. In Hungary the progress of the Turks was more formidable. Mahmet, their general, after gaining several small advantages, defeated the Germans^ in a great battle at Essek on the Drave. Happily for Christendom, it was not in Francis's power to exe- cute with equal exactness what he had stipulated ; nor could he assemble at this juncture an army strong enough to penetrate into the Milanese. By this he failed in recovering possession of that dutchy ; and Italy was not only saved from the calamities of a new war, but from feeling the deso- lating rage of the Turkish arms, as an addition to all that it had suffered.^ As the emperor knew that he could not long resist the efforts of two such powerful confederates, nor could expect that the same fortunate accidents would concur a second time to deliver Naples, and to preserve the Mila- nese ; as he foresaw that the Italian states would not only tax him loudly with insatiable ambition, but might even turn their arms against him, if lie * Memoires de BiWor, . i*:? E M P E R O Ft C H A R L E S V . 273 should be so regardless of their danger as obstinately to protract the war, he thought it necessary, both for his safety and reputation, to give his con- sent to a truce. Nor was Francis Willing to sustain all the blame of ob- structing the re-establishment of tranquillity, or to expose himself on that account to the danger of being deserted by the Swiss and other foreigners in his service. He even began to apprehend that his own subjects would serve him coldly, if by contributing to aggrandize the power of the In- fidels, which it was his duty, and had been the ambition of his ancestors to depress, he continued to act in direct opposition to all the principles which ought to influence a monarch distinguished by the title of Most Christian King. He chose, for all these reasons, rather to run the risk of disobliging his new ally the sultan, than, by an unseasonable adherence to the treaty with him, to forfeit what was of greater consequence. But though both parties consented to a truce, the plenipotentiaries found insuperable difficulties in settling the articles of a definitive treaty. Each of the monarchs, with the arrogance of a conqueror, aimed at giving law to the other ; and neither would so far acknowledge his inferiority, as to sacrifice any point of honour, or to relinquish any matter of right ; so that the plenipotentiaries spent the time in long and fruitless negotiations, and separated after agreeing to prolong the truce for a few months. 1538.1 The pope, however, did not despair of accomplishing a point in which the plenipotentiaries had failed, and took upon himself the sole burden of negotiating a peace. To form a confederacy capable of defend- ing Christendom from the formidable inroads of the Turkish arms, and to concert effectual measures for the extirpation of the Lutheran heresy, w ere two great objects which Paul had much at heart, and he considered the union of the emperor with the king of France as an essential preliminary to both. To be the instrument of reconciling these contending monarchs, whom his predecessors by their interested and indecent intrigues had so often embroiled, was a circumstance which could not fail of throwing dis- tinguished lustre on his character and administration. Nor was he without hopes that, while he pursued this laudable end, he might secure advan- tages to his own family, the aggrandizing of which he did not neglect, though he aimed at it with a less audacious ambition than was common among the popes of that century. Influenced by these considerations, he proposed an interview between the two monarchs, at Nice, and offered to repair thither in person, that he might act as mediator in composing all their differences. When a pontiff of a venerable character, and of a very advanced age, was willing, lrom his zeal for peace, to undergo the fatigues of so lona; a journey, neither Charles nor Francis could with decency de- cline the Interview. But though both came to the place of rendezvous, so ijreatwas the difficulty of adjusting the ceremonial, or such the remains of distrust and rancour on each side, that they refused to see one another, and every thing was transacted by the intervention of the pope, who visited them alternately. With all his zeal and ingenuity he could not find out a method of removing the obstacles which prevented a final accommodation, particularly those arising from the possession of the Milanese ; nor was all the weight of his authority sufficient to overcome the obstinate persever- ance of either monarch in asserting his own claims. At last, that he might not seem to have laboured altogether without effect, he prevailed on them to sign a truce for ten years [June 18], upon the same condition with the former, that each should retain what was now in his possession, and in the mean time should send ambassadors to Rome, to discass their pretensions at leisure.* Thus ended a war of no long continuance, but very extensive in its ope- * Recueil des Traitez, ii. 210. Relatione del Nicoto Tiepolo del' Mucasacnto dl Mzz*,chezDa Mont Corps Diplomat, par. ii. p, 174. Vol. II- 36 074 THE REiUN OF THE [Book VI. rations, and in which both parties exerted their utmost strength. Though Francis failed in the object which lie had principally in view, the recovery of the Milanese, he acquired, nevertheless, great reputation by the wisdom of his measures as well as the success of his arms in repelling a formidable invasion ; and by keeping possession of one half of the duke of Savoy's dominions, he added no inconsiderable accession of strength to his king- dom. Whereas Charles, repulsed and baffled, after having boasted so arrogantly of victory, purchased an inglorious truce, by sacrificing an ally who had rashly confided too much in his friendship and power. The un- fortunate duke murmured, complained, and remonstrated against a treaty so much to his disadvantage, but in vain ; he had no means of redress, and was obliged to submit. Of all his dominions, Nice, with its dependences, was the only coiner of which he himself kept possession. He saw the: rest divided between a powerful invader and the ally to whose protection he had trusted, while he remained a sad monument of the imprudence of weak princes, who by taking part in the quarrel of mighty neighbours, between whom they happen to be situated, are crushed and overwhelmed in the shock. A few days after signing the treaty of truce, the emperor set sail fur Barcelona, but was driven by contrary winds to the island of St. Margaret on the coast of Provence. When Francis, who happened to be not far distant, heard of this, he considered it as an office of civility to invite him to take shelter in his dominions, and proposed a personal interview with him at Aigues-mortes. The emperor, who would not be outdone by hia rival in complaisance, instantly repaired thither. As soon as he cast anchor in the road, Francis, without waitiflg to settle any point of ceremony, but relying implicitly on the emperor's honour for his security, visited him on board his galley, and was received and entertained with the warmest de- monstrations of esteem and affection. Next day the emperor repaid the confidence which the king had placed in him. He landed at Aigues- mortes with as little precaution, and met with a reception equally cordial. He remained on shore during the night, and in both visits the two monarchs vied with each other in expressions of respect and friendship.* After twenty years of open hostilities, or of secret enmity; after so many in- juries reciprocally inflicted or endured ; after having formally given the lie, and challenged one another to single combat ; alter the emperor had inveighed so publicly against Francis as a prince void of honour and in- tegrity ; and after Francis had accused him of being accessary to the murder or his eldest son ; such an interview appears altogether singular and even unnatural. But the history of these monarchs abounds with such surprising transitions. From implacable hatred they appeared to pass, in a moment, to the most cordial reconcilement ; from suspicion and distrust, to perfect confidence ; and from practising all the dark arts of a deceitful policy, they could assume, of a sudden, the liberal and open manners of two gallant gentlemen. The pope, besides the glory of having restored peace to Europe, gained, according to his expectation, a point of great consequence to his family, by prevailing on the emperor to betroth Margaret of Austria, his natural daughter, formerly the wife of Alexander di Medici, to his grandson Oc- tavio Farnese, and, in consideration of this marriage, to bestow several honours and territories upon his future son-in-law. A very tragical event, which happened about the beginning of the year 1537, had deprived Mar- garet of her first husband. That young prince, whom the emperor's par- tiality had raised to the supreme power in Florence, upon the ruins of the public liberty, neglected entirely the cares of government, and abandoned * Sandov. Hist. vol. ii. 238. Relation d« I'Entrevue de Char!. V. & Fran. I. par. M. ;' Giov. Rat. Adriani. Veil. 1587, p. 10. t Hist, of Scotland, vol. i • EMPEROR CHARLES V. 277 most effectual for regaining Heniy's good-will. For tins purpose, he began with proposing several rmrriage-treaties to the king. He offered his niece, a daughter of the king of Denmark, to Hemy himself; he demanded the princess Mary for one of the princes of Portugal, and was even willing to receive her as the king's illegitimate daughter.* Though none of these projected alliances ever took place, or perhaps were ever seriously intended, ihey occasioned such Irequent intercourse between the courts, and so many reciprocal professions of civility and esteem, as con- siderably abated trie edge of Henry's rancour against the emperor, and paved the way for that union between them which afterwards proved so disadvantageous to the French king. The ambitious schemes in which the emperor had been engaged, and the wars he had been carrying on for some years, proved, as usual, ex- tremely favourable to the progress of the reformation in Germany. While Charles was absent upon his African expedition, or intent on his projects against France, his chief object in Germany was to prevent the dissensions about religion from disturbing the public tranquillity, by granting such indulgence to the protestant princes as might induce them to concur with his measures, or at least to hinder them trom taking part with his rival. For this reason, he was careful to secure to the protestants the possession of all the advantages which they had gained by the articles of pacification at Nuremberg, in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-two ;t and except some slight trouble from the proceedings of the Imperial chamber, they met with nothing to disturb them in the exercise of their religion, or to interrupt the successful zeal with which they propagated their opinions. Meanwhile the pope continued his negotiations for convoking a general council ; and though the protestants had expressed great dissatisfaction with his intention to hx upon Mantua as the place of meeting, he adhered obstinately to his choice, issued a bull on the second of June, one thousand five hundred and thirty-six, appointing it to assemble in that city on the twenty-third of May the year following; he nominated three cardinals to preside in his name ; enjoined all Christian princes to countenance it by their authority, and invited the prelates of every nation to attend in person. This summons of a council, an assembly which from its nature and inten- tion demanded quiet times, as well as pacific dispositions, at the very juncture when the emperor was on his march towards France, and ready to involve a great part of Europe in the confusions of war, appeared to every person extremely unseasonable. It was intimated, however, to all the different courts by nuncios despatched on purpose.! With an intention to gratify the Germans, the emperor, during his residence in Rome, had warmly solicited the pope to call a council ; but being at the same time willing to try every art in order to persuade Paul to depart from the neutrality which he preserved between him and Francis, he sent Heldo his vice-chan- cellor into Germany, along with a nuncio despatched thither, instructing him to second all the nuncio's representations, and to enforce them with the whole weight of the Imperial authority. The protestants gave them audience at Smalkalde, [Feb. 25, 1537], where they had assembled in a body in order to receive them. But after weighing all their arguments, they unanimously refused to acknowledge a council summoned in the name and by the authority of the pope alone ; in which he assumed the sole right of presiding ; which was to be held in a city not only far distant from Ger- many, but subject to a prince, who was a stranger to them, and closely connected with the court of Rome ; and to which their divines could not repair with safety, especially after their doctrines had been stigmatized in the very bull of convocation with the name of heresy. These and many * Mem. de TUbicr, t. i. 49R. t Pn Mant Corps r>ipin;n. tan. iv. part 2. p. 138 J PaHavfc, Hi«t. Cnnr. Triri. 113. ?78 THE REIGN OF THE ' iBook VI. other objections against the council, which appeared to them unanswerable, they enumerated in a large manifesto, which they published in vindication of their conduct.* Against this the court of Rome exclaimed as a flagrant proof of their obstinacy and presumption, and the pope still persisted in his resolution to hold the council at the time and in the place appointed. But some unexpected difficulties being started by the duke of Mantua, both about the right of jurisdiction over the persons who resorted to the council, and the security of his capital amidst such a concourse of strangers, the pope [Oct. 8, 1538], after fruitless endeavours to adjust these, first prorogued the council for some months, and afterwards, transferring the place of meeting to Vicenza in the Venetian territories, appointed it to assemble on the hrst of May, in the following year. As neither the emperor nor the French king, who had not then come to any accommodation, would permit their subjects to repair thither, not a single prelate . appeared 6n the day prefixed, and the pope, that his authority might not become altogether contemptible by so many ineffectual efforts to convoke that assembly, put off the meeting by an indefinite prorogation.! But that Ije might not seem to have turned his whole attention towards a reformation which he was not able to accomplish, while he neglected that which was in his own power, he deputed a certain number of cardi- nals and bishops, with full authority to inquire into the abuses and cor- ruptions of the Roman court ; and to propose the most effectual method of removing them. This scrutiny, undertaken with reluctance, was carried on slowly and with remissness. All defects were touched with a gentle hand, afraid of probing too deep, or of discovering too much. But even by this partial examination, many irregularities were detected, and many enormities exposed to light, while the remedies which they suggested as most proper were either inadequate or were never applied. The report and resolution of these deputies, though intended to be kept secret, were trans- mitted by some accident into Germany, and being immediately made public, afforded ample matter for reflection, and triumph to the protestants.t On the one hand, they demonstrated the necessity of a reformation in the head as well as the members of the church, and even pointed out many of the corruptions against which Luther and his followers had remonstrated with the greatest vehemence. They showed, on the other hand, that if; was vain to expect this reformation from ecclesiastics themselves, who, as Luther strongly expressed it, piddled at curing warts, while they over- looked or confirmed ulcers.§ 1539]. The earnestness with which the emperor seemed, at first, to press their acquiescing in the pope's scheme of holding a council in Italy, alarmed the protestant princes so much, that they thought it prudent to strengthen their confederacy, by admitting several new members who solicited that privilege, particularly the king of Denmark. Heldo, who during his residence in Germany, had observed all the advantages which they derived from that union, endeavoured to counterbalance its effects by an alliance among the Catholic powers of the empire. This league, disr tinguished by the name of Holy, was merely defensive ; and though con- cluded by Heldo in the emperor's name, was afterwards disowned by him, and subscribed by very few princes. || The protestants soon got intelligence of this association, notwithstanding all the endeavours of the contracting parties to conceal it ; and their zeal, always apt to suspect and to dread, even to excess, every thing that seemed to threaten religion, instantly took the alarm, as if the emperor had been just ready to enter upon the execution of some formidable plan for the * Bleidan. 1. xii. 133, fee. Weekend. Com lib. iii. p. 143, &o. t F- Paul, 117. PaUavic. 11T X Stetilan, 2S3. $ So.k. I. iii. 164, I! Seek. I. iii. 171. Recueil .lesTrairc*: EMPEROR CHARLES V. 279 extirpation of their opinions. In order to disappoint this, they held frequent consultations, they courted the kings of France and England with great assiduity, and even began to think of raising the respective contin- gents both in men and money with which they were obliged to furnish by the treaty of Smalkalde. But it was not long before they were convinced that these apprehensions were without foundation, and that the emperor, to whom repose was absolutely necessary, after efforts so much beyond his strength in the war with France, had no thoughts of disturbing the tran- quillity of Germany. As a proof of this, at an interview with the pro- testant princes in Frankfort [April 19], his ambassadors agreed that all concessions in their favour, particularly those contained in the pacification of Nuremberg, should continue in force for fifteen months ; that during this period all proceedings of the Imperial chamber against them should be suspended ; that a conference should be held by a few divines of each party, in order to discuss the points in controversy, and to propose articles of accommodation which should be laid before the next diet. Though the emperor, that he might not irritate the pope, who remonstrated against the first part of this agreement as impolitic, and against the latter, as an impious encroachment upon his prerogative, never formally ratified this convention, it was observed with considerable exactness, and greatly strengthened the basis of that ecclesiastical liherty for which the protestants contended.* A few days after the convention at Frankfort, George duke of Saxony died [April 24], and his death was an event of great advantage to the re- formation. That prince, the head of the Albertine, or younger branch of the Saxon family, possessed, as marquis of Misnia and Thuringia, extensive territories, comprehending Dresden, Leipsic, and other cities now the most considerable in the electorate. From the first dawn of the reformation, he had been its enemy as avowedly as the electoral princes were its pro- tectors, and had carried on his opposition not only with all the zeal flowing from religious prejudices, but with a virulence inspired by personal an- tipathy to Luther, and imbittered by the domestic animosity subsisting between him and the other branch of his family. By his death without issue, his succession fell to his brother Henry, whose attachment to the Erotestant religion surpassed, if possible, that of his predecessor to popery, lenry no sooner took possession of his new dominions, than, disregarding a clause in George's will, dictated by his bigotry, whereby he bequeathed all his territories to the emperor and king of the Romans, if his brother should attempt to make any innovation in religion, he invited some pro- testant divines, and among them Luther himself, to Leipsic. By their advice and assistance, he overturned in a few weeks the whole system of ancient rites, establishing the full exercise of the reformed religion with the universal applause ot his subjects, who had long wished for this change, which the authority of their duke alone had hitherto prevented.! This revolution delivered the protestants from the danger to which they were exposed by having an inveterate enemy situated in the middle of their territories ; and they had now the»satisfaction of seeing that the possessions of the princes and cities attached to their cause, extended in one great and almost unbroken line from the shore of the Baltic to the banks ot the Rhine. Soon after the conclusion of the truce at Nice, an event happened, which satisfied all Europe that Charles bad prosecuted the war to the utmost ex- tremity that the state of his affairs would permit. Vast arrears were due to his troops, whom he had long amused with vain hopes and promises. As they now foresaw what little attention would be paid to their demands, ivhen by the re-establishraent of peace their services became of less in> *r. Paul.M SIM. 047. Beek.Llik.S0Bi > ?lri»lan, M«. og0 T H E R E IGN OF T H E [Book VI. portance, they lost all patience, broke out into an open mutiny, and declared that they thought themselves entitled to seize by violence what was de- tained from them contrary to all justice. Nor was this spirit of sedition confined to one part of the emperor's dominions; the mutiny was almost .is general as the grievance which gave rise to it. The soldiers in the Milanese plundered the open country without control, and filled the capital itself with consternation. Those in garrison at Goletta threatened to give up that important fortress to Barbarossa. In Sicily, the troops proceeded to still greater excesses ; having driven away their officers, they elected others in their stead, defeated a body of men whom the viceroy sent against them, took and pillaged several cities, conducting themselves all the while in such a manner, that their operations resembled rather the regular proceedings of a concerted rebellion, than the rashness and violence of a military mutiny. But by the address and prudence of the generals, who, partly by borrowing money in their own name, or in that of their master, partly by extorting large sums from the cities in their respective provinces, raised what was sufficient to discbarge the arrears of the soldiers, these insurrections were quelled. The greater part of the troops were disbanded, such a number only being kept in pay as was necessary for garrisoning the principal towns, and protecting the seacoasts from the insults of the Turks.* It was happy tor the emperor that the abilities of his generals extricated him out of these difficulties, which it exceeded his own power to have removed. He had depended, as his chief resource for discharging the arrears due to his soldiers, upon the subsidies which he expected from his Castilian subjects. For this purpose, he assembled the Cortes of Castile at Toledo, and having represented to them the extraordinary expense of his military operations, together with the great debts in which these had necessarily involved him, he proposed to levy such supplies as the present exigency of his affairs demanded, by a general excise on commodities. But the Spaniards already felt themselves oppressed with a load of taxes unknown to their ancestors. They had often complained that their country was drained not only of its wealth but of its inhabitants, in order to pro- secute quarrels in which it was not interested, and to fight battles, from which it could reap no benefit ; and they determined not to add volun- tarily to their own burdens, or to furnish the emperor with the means of engaging in new enterprises no less ruinous to the kingdom than most of those which he had hitherto carried on. The nobles in particular inveighed with great vehemence against the imposition proposed, as an encroach- ment upon the valuable and distinguishing privilege of their order, that of being exempted from the payment of any tax. They demanded a con- ference with the representatives of the cities concerning the state of the nation. They contended that if Charles would imitate the example of his predecessors, who had resided constantly in Spain, and would avoid entangling himself in a multiplicity of transactions foreign to the concerns of his Spanish dominions, his stated revenues of the crown would be fully sufficient to defray the necessary expenses of government. They repre- sented to him, that it would be unjust to lay new burdens upon the people, while this prudent and effectual method of re-establishing public credit, and securing national opulence, was totally neglected.! Charles, after employing arguments, entreaties, and promises, but without success, in order to overcome their obstinacy, dismissed the assembly with great in- dignation. From that period neither the nobles nor the prelates have been called to these assemblies, on pretence that such as pay no part of the Eublic taxes, should not claim any vote in laying thena on. None have een admitted to the Cortes but the procurators or representatives of * .Tovii Hisi.l. xxxvii. 203. c. Sandov. Ferreias. ix. 906. t f Smdor. Htat vol.ii.SG9 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 381 eighteen cities. These to the number of thirty-six, being two from each community, form an assembly which hears do resemblance either in power or dignity or independence to the ancient.Cortes, and are absolutely at the devotion of the court in all their determinations.* Thus the imprudent zeal with which the Castilian nobles had supported the regal prerogative, in opposition to the claims of the commons during the commotions in the year one thousand five hundred and twenty-one, proved at last fatal to their own body. By enabling Charles to depress one of the orders in the state, they destroyed that balance to which the constitution owed its security, and put it in his power, or in that of his successors, to humble the other, and to strip it gradually of its most valuable privileges. At the same time, however, the Spanish grandees still possessed extra- ordinary power as well as privileges, which they exercised and defended with a naughtiness peculiar to themselves. Of this the emperor himself had a mortifying proof during the meeting of the Cortes at Toledo. As he was returning one day from a tournament accompanied by most of the nobility, one of the sergeants of the court, out of officious zeal to clear the way for the emperor, struck the duke of Infantado's horse with his batoon. which that haughty grandee resenting, drew his sword, beat and wounded t lie officer. Charles, provoked at such an insolent deed in his presence, immediately ordered Ronquillo the judge of the court to arrest the duke ; Ronquillo advanced to execute his charge, when the constable of Castile interposing, checked him, claimed the right of jurisdiction over a grandee as a privilege of his office, and conducted Infantado to his own apartment. All the nobles present were so pleased with the boldness of the constable in asserting the rights of their order, that, deserting the emperor, they attended him to his house with infinite applauses, and Charles returned to the palace unaccompanied by any person but the cardinal Tavera. The . emperor, how sensible soever of the affront, saw the danger of irritating a jealous and high-spirited order of men, whom the slightest appearance of offence might drive to the most unwarrantable extremities. For that reason, instead of straining at any ill-timed exertion of his prerogative, he prudently connived at the arrogance of a body too potent for him to control, and sent next morning to the duke of Infantado, offering to inflict what punishment he pleased on the person who had affronted him. The duke considering this as a full reparation to his honour, instantly forgave the officer ; bestowing on him, besides, a considerable present as a compen- sation for his wound. Thus the affair was entirely forgotten ;| nor would it have deserved to be mentioned, if it were not a striking example of the high and independent spirit of the Spanish nobles in that age, as well as an instance 01 the emperor's dexterity in accommodating his conduct to the circumstances in which he was placed. Charles was far from discovering the same condescension or lenity toward the citizens of Ghent, who not long after broke out into open re- bellion against his government. An event which happened in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-six, gave occasion to this rash insur- rection so fatal to that flourishing city. At that time the queen dowager of Hungary, governess of the Netherlands, having received orders from her brother to invade France with all the forces which she could raise, she assembled the States of the United Provinces, and obtained from them a subsidy of twelve hundred thousand florins, to defray the expense of that undertaking. Of this sum, the county of Flanders was obliged to pay a third part as its proportion. But the citizens of Ghent, the most considerable city in that country, averse to a war with France, with which they carried on an extensive and gainful commerce, refused to pay their * Sandov. lb. Lc Science du Gonvernment. par M. rtr Real. torn. ii. p. 100. f Sandnv H 274. Frirreraa, 1st. 212. Mlnlana. 113 Vol. II.— ^s Ml THE REIGN OF THE [Book VI. quota, and contended, that in consequence of stipulations between them and the ancestors of their present sovereign the emperor, no tax could be levied upon them, unless they .had given their express consent to the imposition of it. The governess on the other hand, maintained, that as the subsidy of twelve hundred thousand florins had been granted by the States of Flanders, of which their representatives were members, they were bound, of course, to conform to what was enacted by them, as it is the first principle in society, on which the tranquillity and order of government depend, that the inclinations of the minority must be over- ruled by the judgment and decision of the superior number. The citizens of Ghent, however, were not willing to .relinquish a privi- lege of such high importance as that which they claimed. Having been accustomed, under the government of the house of Burgundy, to enjoy extensive immunities, and to be treated with much indulgence, they dis- dained to sacrifice to the delegated power of a regent, those rights and liberties which they had often and successfully asserted against their greatest princes. The queen, though she endeavoured at first to soothe them, and to reconcile them to their duty by various concessions, was at last so much irritated by the obstinacy with which they adhered to their claim, that she ordered all the citizens of Ghent, on whom she could lay hold in any part of the Netherlands, to be arrested. But this rash action made an impression very different from what she expected, on men whose minds were agitated with all the violent passions which indignation at oppression and zeal for liberty inspire. Less affected with the danger of their friends and companions, than irritated at the governess, they openly despised her authority, and sent deputies to the other towns of Flanders, conjuring them not to abandon their country at such a juncture, but to con- cur with them in vindicating its rights against the encroachments of a woman, who either did not know or did not regard their immunities. All but a few inconsiderable towns declined entering into any confederacy against the governess ; they joined, however, in petitioning her to put off the term for payment of the tax so long, that they might have it in their power to send some of their number into Spain, in order to lay their title to exemption before their sovereign. This she granted with some difficulty. But Charles received their commissioners with a haughtiness to which they were not accustomed from their ancient princes, and enjoin- ing them to yield the same respectful obedience to his sister, which they owed to him in person, remitted the examination of their claim to the council of Malines. This court, which is properly a standing committee of the parliament or states of the country, and which possesses the supreme jurisdiction in all matters civil as well as criminal,* pronounced the claim of the citizens of Ghent to be ill-founded, and appointed them forthwith to pay their proportion of the tax. Enraged at this decision, which they considered as notoriously unjust, and rendered desperate on seeing their rights betrayed by that very court which was bound to protect them, the people of Ghent ran to arms in a tumultuary manner ; drove such of the nobility a6 resided among them out of the city ; secured several of the emperor's officers ; put one of them to the torture, whom they accused of having stolen or destroyed the record that contained a ratification of the privileges of exemption from taxes which they pleaded ; chose a council to which they committed the direction of their affairs ; gave orders for repairing and adding to their fortifications ; and openly erected the standard of rebelbon against their sovereign.! Sensible, however, of their inability to* support what their * Deecriptione di tutti Paesi Basi di Lud. Guicciardini. Ant. 1571. fol. p. 53. t Memoires sur la Revolte de Gantois en 1539, par Jean d'Hollander, eeiit en 1M7. A la Have, J747. P. Ifemnr. Rer. Austr. lib. Ti. p. 2f)2. Sandov Hist. torn. ii. p. 4=5. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 283 zeal had prompted them to undertake, and desirous of securing" a pro- tector against the formidable forces by which they might expect soon to be attacked, they sent some of their number to Francis, offering not only to acknowledge him as their sovereign, and to put him in immediate pos- session of Ghent, but to assist him with all their forces in recovering those provinces in the Netherlands, which had anciently" belonged to the crown of France, and had been so lately re-united to it by the decree of the parliament of Paris. This unexpected proposition coming from persons who had it in their power to have performed instantly one part of what they undertook, and who could contribute so effectually towards the exe- cution of the whole, opened great as well as alluring prospects to Francis's ambition. The counties of Flanders and Artois were of greater value than the dutchy of Milan, which he had so long laboured to acquire with passionate but fruitless desire; their situation with respect to France rendered it more easy to conquer or to defend them ; and they might be formed into a separate principality for the duke of Orleans, no less suit- able to his dignity than that which his father aimed at obtaining. To this, the Flemings, who were acquainted with the French manners and government, would not have been averse ; and his own subjects, weary of their destructive expeditions into Italy, would have turned their arms towards this quarter with more good will, and with greater vigour. Several considerations, nevertheless, prevented Francis from laying hold of this opportunity, the most favourable in appearance which had ever presented itself, of extending his own dominions, or distressing the em- peror. From the time of their interview at Aigues-mortes, Charles had continued to court the king of France with wonderful attention ; and often flattered him with hopes of gratifying at last his wishes concerning the Milanese, by granting the investiture' of it either to him or to one of his sons. But though these hopes and promises were thrown out with no other intention than to detach him from his confederacy with the grand seignior, or to raise suspicions in Solyman's mind by the appearance of a cordial and familiar intercourse subsisting between the courts of Paris and Madrid, Francis was weak enough to catch at the shadow by which he had been so often amused, and from eagerness to seize it, relinquished what must have proved a more substantial acquisition. Besides this, the dauphin, jealous to excess of his brother, and unwilling that a prince who seemed to be of a restless and enterprising nature, should obtain an esta- blishment, which from its situation might be considered almost as a domestic one, made use of Montmorency, who, by a singular piece of good fortune, was at the same time the favourite of the father and of the son, to defeat the application of the Flemings, and to divert the king from espousing their cause. Montmorency, accordingly, represented, in strong terms, the reputation and power which Francis would acquire by recovering that footing which he formerly had in Italy, and that nothing would be so efficacious to overcome the emperor's aversion to this as a sacred adherence to the truce, and refusing, on an occasion so inviting, to countenance the rebellious subjects of his rival. Francis, apt of himself to overrate the value of the Milanese, because he estimated it from the length of time as well as from the great efforts which he had employed in order to recon- quer it, and fond of eveiy action which had the appearance of generosity, assented without difficulty to sentiments so agreeable to his own, rejected the propositions of the citizens of Ghent, and dismissed their deputies with a harsh answer.* Not satisfied with this, by a further refinement in generosity, he com- municated to the emperor his whole negotiation with the malecontents, and all that he knew of their schemes and intentions. f This convincing- Mem <1h RpIMv, p. 2B3. P. HpiiIbt. Her. An=tr. lib. .\i. 26S. t Samtov. Hfajnr. tern. ii. B&l. 284 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VI. proof of Francis's disinterestedness relieved Charles from the most dis- quieting apprehensions, and opened a way to extricate himself out of all his difficulties. He had already received full information of all the trans- actions in the Netherlands, and of the rage with which the people of Ghent had taken arms against his government. He was thoroughly acquainted with the genius and qualities of his suhjects in that country; with their love of liberty ; their attachment to their ancient privileges and customs; as well as the invincible obstinacy with which their minds, slow but firm and persevering, adhered to any measure on which they had deli- berately resolved. He easily saw what encouragement and support they might have derived from the assistance of France ; and though now free from any danger on that quarter, he was still sensible that some immediate as well as vigorous interposition was necessary, in order to prevent the spirit of disaffection from spreading in a countiy where the number of cities, the multitude of people, together with the great wealth diffused among them by commerce, rendered it peculiarly formidable, and would supply it with inexhaustible resources. No expedient, after long delibe- ration, appeared to him so effectual as his going in person to the Nether- lands ; and the governess his sister being of the same opinion, warmly solicited him to undertake the journey. There were only two routes which he could take; one by land through Italy and Germany, the other entirely by sea, from some port in Spain to one in the Low-Countries. But the former was more tedious than suited the present exigency of his affairs; nor could he in consistency with his dignity, or even his safely, pass thro gh Germany without such a train both ot attendants and of troops, as would have added greatly to the time he must have consumed in his journey ; the latter was dangerous at this season, and while he remained uncertain with respect to the friendship of the king of England, was not to be ventured upon, unless under the convoy of a powerful fleet. This perplexing situation, in which he was under the necessity of choosing, and did not know what to choose, inspired him at last with the singular and seemingly extravagant thought of passing through France, as the most expeditious way of reaching the Netherlands. He proposed in his council to demand Francis's permission for that purpose. All his counsellors joined with one voice in condemning the measure as no less rash than un- precedented, and which must infallibly expose him to disgrace or to danger ; to disgrace, if the demand were rejected in the manner that he had reason to expect ; to danger, if he put his person in the power of an enemy whom he had often offended, who had ancient injuries to revenge, as well as subjects of present contest still remaining undecided. But Charles, who had studied the character of his rival with greater care and more profound discernment than any of his ministers, persisted in his plan, and flattered himself that it might be accomplished not only without danger to his own person, but even without the expense of any concession detrimental to his crown. With this view he communicated the matter to the French ambassador at his court, and sent Granville his chief minister to Paris, in order to ob- tain from Francis permission to pass through his dominions, and to promise (hat he would soon settle the affair of the Milanese to his satisfaction. But at the same time he entreated that Francis would not exact any new pro- mise, or even insist on former engagements, at this juncture, lest whatever be should grant, under his present circumstances, might seem rather to be extorted by necessity than to flow from friendship or the love of justice. Francis, instead of attending to the snare which such a slight artifice scarcely concealed, was so dazzled with the splendour of overcoming an enemy by acts of generosity, and so pleased with the air of superiority which the rectitude and disinterestedness of his proceedings gave him on this occa- sion, that he at once assented to all that was demanded. Judging of the EMPEROR CHARLES V. 285 emperor's heart by his own, he imagined that the sentiments of gratitude, arising from the remembrance of good offices and liberal treatment, would determine him more forcibly to fulfil what he had so often promised, than the most precise stipulations that could be inserted in any treaty. Upon this, Charles, to whom every moment was precious, set out, not- Avithstanding the fears and suspicions of his Spanish subjects, with a small but splendid train of about a hundred persons. At Bayonne, on the fron- tiers of France, he was received by the dauphin and the duke of Orleans, attended by the constable Montmorency. The two princes offered to go into Spain, and to remain there as hostages for the emperor's safety; but this he rejected, declaring, that he relied with implicit confidence on the king's honour] and had never demanded, nor would accept of any other pledge for his security. In all the towns through which he passed, the greatest possible magnificence was displayed ; the magistrates presented him the keys of the gates ; the prison doors were set open ; and by the royal ho- nours paid to him, he appeared more like the sovereign of the country than a foreign prince [1540]. The king advanced as far as Chatelherault to meet him ; their interview was distinguished by the warmest expressions of friendship and regard. They proceeded together towards Paris, and presented to the inhabitants ot that city, the extraordinary spectacle of two rival monarchs, whose enmity had disturbed and laid waste Europe during twenty years, making their solemn entry together with all the symptoms ot a confidential harmony, as if they had iorsjotten for ever past injuries, and would never revive hostilities for the future.* Charles remained six days at Paris ; but amidst the perpetual caresses of the French court, and the various entertainments contrived to amuse or to do him honour, he discovered an extreme impatience to continue his journey, arising as much from an apprehension of danger which constantly haunted him, as from the necessity of his presence in the Low-Countries. Conscious of the disingenuity of his own intentions, he trembled when he reflected that some fatal accident might betray them to his rival, or lead him to suspect them ; and though his artifices to conceal them should be successful, he could not help fearing that motives of interest might at last triumph over the scruples of honour, and tempt Francis to avail himself of the advantage now in his hands. Nor were there wanting persons among the French ministers, who advised the king to turn his own arts against the emperor, and as the retribution due for so many instances ol fraud or falsehood, to seize and detain his person until he granted him full satisfaction with regard to all the just claims of the French crown. Rut no consideration could induce Francis to violate the faith which he had pledged, nor could any argument convince him that Charles, after, all the promises that he had given, and all the favours which he had received, might still be capable of deceiving him. Full of this false confidence, he accompanied him to St. Ojiintin ; and the two princes, who had met him on the borders of Spain, did not take leave of him until he entered his do- minions in the Low-Countries. As soon as the emperor reached his own territories [Jan. 24], the French ambassadors demanded the accomplishment of what he had promised con- cerning the investiture of Milan : but Charles, under the plausible pretext lhat his whole attention was then engrossed by the consultations necessary towards suppressing the rebellion in Ghent, put oft' the matter for some lime. But in order to prevent Francis from suspecting his sincerity, be Mill continued to talk of his resolutions with respect to that matter in the same strain as when he entered France, and even wrote to the king much to the same purpose, though in general terms, and with equivocal expres- sions, which he might afterwards explain away or interpret at pleasure.'' • Tlinnii. MM. lib. i. <•. It. Mm. De IVllny. -Ml • Meiuoire? de EffiiT. i. &M. 286 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VI. Meanwhile, the unfortunate citizens of Ghent, destitute of leaders, ca- pable either of directing their councils, or conducting their troops ; aban- doned by the French king, and unsupported by their countrymen; were unable to resist their offended sovereign, who was ready to advance against them with one body of troops which he had raised in the Netherlands, with another drawn out of Germany, and a third which had arrived from Spain by sea. The near approach of danger made them, at last, so sensible of their own folly, that they sent ambassadors to the emperor, imploring his mercy, and offering to set open their gates at his approach. Charles, with- out vouchsafing them any other answer than that he would appear amonsr them as their .sovereign, with the sceptre and the sword in his hand, began his march at the head of his troops. Though he chose to enter the city on the twenty-fourth of February, his birth-day, he was touched with nothing of that tenderness or indulgence which was natural towards the place of his nativity. Twenty -six of the principal citizens were put to death [April 20] ; a greater number were sent into banishment ; the city was declared to have forfeited all its privileges and immunities ; the reve- nues belonging to it were confiscated ; its ancient form of government was abolished ; the nomination of its magistrates was vested for the future in the emperor and his successors; a new system of laws and political admi- nistration was prescribed ;* and in order to bridle the seditious spirit of the citizens, orders were given to erect a strong citadel, for defraying the ex- pense ot which a fine of a hundred and fifty thousand florins was imposed on the inhabitants, together with an annual tax of six thousand florins lor the support oi the garrison.! By these rigorous proceedings, Charles not only punished the citizens of Ghent, but set an awful example of severity before his other subjects in the Netherlands, whose immunities and privileges,- partly the effect, partly the cause of their extensive commerce, circum- scribed the prerogative of their sovereign within very narrow bounds, and often stood in the way of measures which he wished to undertake, or fet- tered and retarded him in his operations. Charles having thus vindicated and re-established his authority in the Low- Countries, and being now under ip necessity of continuing the same scene <>f falsehood and dissimulation with which he had long amused Francis, began gradually to throw aside the veil under which he had concealed his intentions with respect to the Milanese. At first, he eluded the demands of the French ambassadors, when they again reminded him of his promises : then he proposed, by Avay of equivalent for the dutchy of Milan, to grant the duke of Orleans the investiture of Flanders, clogging the offer, How- ever, with impracticable conditions, or such as he knew would be rejected.^ At last, being driven from all his evasions and subterfuges by their insisting for a categorical answer, he peremptorily refused to give up a territory of such value, or voluntarily to make such a liberal addition to the strength of an enemy, by diminishing his own power.§ He denied, at the same time, that he bad ever made any promise which could bind him to an action so foolish, ;md so contrary to his own interest.il Of all the transactions in the emperor's life, this, without doubt, reflects the greatest dishonour on his reputation. If Though Charles was not ex- tremely scrupulous at other times about the means which he employed for iiccomplishing his ends, and was not always observant of the strict precepts of veracity and honour, he had hitherto maintained some regard for the maxims of that less precise and rigid morality by which monarc.hs think themselves entitled to regulate their conduct. But, on this occasion, the scheme that he formed of deceiving a generous and open-hearted prince ; * Lea Coutumes ct Loii do Cnraptf- yola its founder. Many circumstances concurred in giving a peculiarity of character to the order of Jesuits, and in forming the members of it not only to take a greater part in the affairs of the world than any other body of monks, but to acquire superior influence in the conduct ot them. 1 he primary object of almost all the monastic orders is to separate men from the world, and from any concern in its affairs. In the solitude and silence of the cloister, the monk is called to work out his own salvation by extra- ordinary acts of mortification and piety. He is dead to the world, and ought not to mingle in its transactions. He can be of no benefit to man- kind, but by his example and by his prayers. On the contrary, the Jesuits are taught to consider themselves as formed for action. They are chosen soldiers, bound to exert themselves continually in the service of God, and of the pope, his vicar on earth. Whatever tends to instruct the ignorant ; whatever can be of use to reclaim or to oppose the enemies of the holy see, is their proper object. That they may have full leisure for this active service, they are totally exempted from those functions, the performance of which is the chief business of other monks. They appear in no proces- sions ; they practise no rigorous austerities ; they do not consume one half of their time in the repetition of tedious offices.* But they are required to attend to all the transactions of the world, on account of the influence which these may have upon religion ; they are directed to study the dispositions df persons in high rank, and to cultivate their friendship ;T and by the very ci institution, as well as genius of the order, a spirit of action and intrigue is. infused into all its members. As the object of the society of Jesuits differed from that of the other monastic orders, the diversity was no less in the form of its government. The other orders are to be considered as voluntary associations, in which li hatever affects the whole body is regulated by the common suffrage of all its members. The executive power is vested in the persons placed at the head of each convent, or of the whole society : the legislative authority re- sides in the community. Affairs of moment, relating to particular convents, are determined in conventual chapters ; such as respect the whole order are considered in general congregations. But Loyola, full of the ideas of implicit obedience, which he had derived from his military profession, ap- pointed that the government of his order should be purely monarchical. A general, chosen for life by deputies from the several provinces, possessed * Comptc rendu par M. de Monitor, p. xiii. 200- Sur la DcStruct. ti. Tin provincials and heads of houses not only report concerning the members nf the Moiety, but arc bound In give the general an account of the civil affairs in the eountry wherein the y are -vttled, as far as their knowledge "f these may be of benefit to religion. This condition mayextend to every particular, so that the general is furnished with full information concerning the transactions of every prince and slate in the world. Compte par M. de Moncl, 443. Hist, des Jesuit, ibid- p. 58. When the affairs with respect to which the provincials or rectors write are of importance, they are directed to use ciphers . and eath of them has a particular cipher from the general. Compte par M. Ch:tlotai«. p. 54.J Voi. II.— 37 290 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VI. registers kept on purpose, that the general may, at one comprehensive view . survey the state of the society in every corner of the earth ; observe tin- qualifications and talents of its members ; and thus choose, with perfect information, the instruments, which his absolute power can employ in any service for which he thinks meet to destine them.* As it was the professed intention of the order of Jesuits to labour with unwearied zeal in promoting the salvation of men, this engaged them, of course, in many active functions. From their first institution, they consi- dered the education of youth as their peculiar province ; they aimed at being spiritual guides and confessors ; they preached frequently in order to instruct the people ; they sent out missionaries to convert unbelieving nations. The novelty of the institution, as well as the singularity of its objects, procured the order many admirers and patrons. The governor:-, of the society had the address to avail themselves of every circumstance in its favour, and in a short time the number as well as influence of its members increased wonderfully. Before the expiration of the sixteenth century, the Jesuits had obtained the chief direction of the education of youth in every catholic country in Europe. They had become the confessors of almost all its monarchs, a function of no small importance in any reign, but under a weak prince superior even to that of minister. They were the spiritual guides of almost every person eminent for rank or power. They possessed the highest degree of confidence and interest with the papal court, as the most zealous and able champions for its authority. The advantages which an active and enterprising body of men might derive from all these circumstances are obvious. They formed the minds of men in their youth. They retained an ascendant over them in their advanced years. They possessed, at different periods, the direction of the most considerable courts in Europe. They mingled in all affairs. They took part in every intrigue and revolution. The general, by means of the extensive intelligence which he received, could regulate the opera- tions of the order with the most perfect discernment, and by means of h'u absolute power could carry them on with the utmost vigour and effect.! Together with the power o£ the order, its wealth continued to increase. Various expedients were devised for eluding the obligation of the vow of poverty. The order acquired ample possessions in every catholic country : and by the number as well as magnificence of its public buildings, together with the value of its property, moveable or real, it vied with the most opulent of the monastic fraternities. Besides the sources of wealth com- mon to all the regular clergy, the Jesuits possessed one which was pecu- liar to themselves. Under pretext of promoting the success of their missions, and of facilitating the support of their missionaries, they obtained a special license from the court of Rome, to trade with the nations which they laboured to convert. In consequence of this, they engaged in an ex- tensive and lucrative commerce, both in the East and West Indies. They opened warehouses in different parts of Europe, in which they vended their commodities. Not satisfied with trade alone, they imitated the example of other commercial societies, and aimed at obtaining settlements. They acquired possession accordingly of a large and fertile province in the southern continent of America, ana reigned as sovereigns over some hundred thousand subjects.f * Comptepar M. deMoncl. p, 215. 439. Comptepar SI. de Chalotaia, p. 52. 222. f When Loyola, in the year 1540, petitioned the pope to authorize the institution of the he had only ten disciples. But in the year 1608, sixty-eight years after their first institution, the number of Jesuits had increased to ten thousand five hundred and eighty-one. In the year 171U. the order possessed twenty-four professed houses; fifty-nine houses of probation ; three hundrr.t and forty residences ; six hundred and twelve colleges ; two hundred missions; one hundred ami fifty seminaries and boarding-schools; and consisted of 19,998 Jesuits. Hist, desJesuitee, toni p. 20. } Hist, des Jes. i\-. IfiS— 1!)6, &.<•. EMPEROR CHARLES \. 291 Unhappily for mankind, the vast influence which the order of Jesuits acquired by all these different means, has been often exerted with the most pernicious effect. Such was the tendency of that discipline observed by the society in forming its members, and such the fundamental maxims in its constitution, that every Jesuit was taught to regard the interest of the order as the capital object, to which every consideration was to be sacri ficed. This spirit of attachment to their order, the most ardent, perhaps, that ever influenced any body of men,* is the characteristic principle of the Jesuits, and serves as a key to the genius of their policy, as well as to the peculiarities in their sentiments and conduct. As it was for the honour and advantage of the society, that its members should possess an ascendant over persons in high rank or of great power, the desire of acquiring and preserving such a direction of their conduct, with greater facility, has led the Jesuits to propagate a system of relaxed and pliant morality, which accommodates itself to the passions of men. which justifies their vices, which tolerates their imperfections, which authorizes almost every action that the most audacious or crafty politician would wish to perpetrate. As the prosperity of the order was intimately connected with the pre- servation of the papal authority, the Jesuits, influenced by the same prin- ciple of attachment to the interests of their society, have been the most zealous patrons of those doctrines which tend to exalt ecclesiastical power on the ruins of civil government. They have attributed to the court of Rome a jurisdiction as extensive and absolute as was claimed by the most presumptuous pontiffs- in the dark ages. They have contended for the entire independence of ecclesiastics on the civil magistrate. They have published such tenets concerning the duty of opposing princes who were enemies of the catholic faith, as countenanced the most atrocious crimes, and tended to dissolve all the ties which connect subjects with their rulers. As the order derived both reputation and authority from the zeal with which it stood forth in defence of the Romish church against the attacks of the reformers, its members, proud of this distinction, have considered it as their peculiar function to combat the opinions, and to check the progress of the protestants. They have made use of every art, and have employed every weapon against them. They have set themselves in opposition to every gentle or tolerating measure in their favour. They have incessantly stirred up against them all the rage of ecclesiastical and civil persecution. Monks of other denominations have, indeed, ventured to teach the same pernicious doctrines, and have held opinions equally inconsistent with the order and happiness of civil society. But the}7, from reasons which are obvious, have either delivered such opinions with greater reserve, or have propagated them with less success. Whoever recollects the events which have happened in Europe during two centuries, will find that the Jesuits may justly be considered as responsible for most of the pernicious effects arising from that corrupt and dangerous casuistry, from those extravagant tenets concerning ecclesiastical power, and from that intolerant spirit, which have been the disgrace of the church of Rome throughout that period, and which have brought so many calamities upon civil society.t But amidst many bad consequences flowing from the institution ot this order, mankind, it must be acknowledged, have derived from it some con- siderable advantages. As the Jesuits made the education of youth one of their capital objects, and as their first attempts to establish colleges for the reception of students were violently opposed by the universities in different countries, it became necessary for them, as the most effectual method of acquiring the public favour, to surpass their rival1- in science and industry. This prompted them to cultivate the study of ancient literature with * Comptepar M. de Moncl p. "J^ri Encyclopedic, art. JisviUs. torn, viii.513. 29-2 THE REIGN O'r THE [Book V J. extraordinary ardour. This put them upon various methods for facilitating the instruction of youth ; and by the improvements which they blade in it, they have contributed so much towards the progress of polite learning, that on this account they have merited well of society. Nor has the order of Jesuits been successful only in teaching the elements of literature ; it has produced likewise eminent masters in many branches of science, and can alone boast of a greater number of ingenious authors than all the other religious fraternities taken together.* But it is in the new world that the Jesuits have exhibited the most wonderful display of their abilities, and have contributed most effectually to the benefit of the human species. The conquerors of that unfortunate quarter of the globe acted at first as if they had nothing in view, but to plunder, to enslave, and to exterminate its inhabitants. The Jesuits alone made humanity the object of their settling there. About the beginning of the last century, they obtained admission into the fertile province of Paraguay, which stretches across the southern continent of America, from the east side of the immense ridge of the Andes, to the confines of the Spanish and Portuguese settlements on the banks of the river de la Plata. They found the inhabitants in a state little different from that which takes place among men when they first begin to unite together ; strangers to the arts ; subsisting precariously by hunting or fishing ; and hardly acquainted with the first principles of subordination and government. The Jesuits set themselves to instruct and to civilize these savages. They taught them to cultivate the ground, to rear tame animals, and to build houses. They brought them to live together in villages. They trained them to arts and manufactures. They made them taste the sweets of society ; and accustomed them to the blessings of security and order. These people became the subjects of their benefactors ; who have governed them with a tender attention, resembling that with which a father directs his chil- dren. Respected and beloved almost to adoration, a few Jesuits presided over some hundred thousand Indians. They maintained a perfect equality among all the members of the community. Each of them was obliged to labour, not for himself alone,-but for the public. The produce of their fields, together with the fruits of their industry of every species, were deposited in common store-houses, from which each individual received every thing necessary for the supply of his wants. By this institution, almost all the passions which disturb the peace of society, and render the members of it unhappy, were extinguished. A few magistrates, chosen from among their countrymen by the Indians themselves, watched over the public tranquillity, and secured obedience to the laws. The sangui- nary punishments frequent under other governments were unknown. An admonition from a Jesuit, a slight mark of infamy, or, on some singular occasion, a few lashes with a whip, were sufficient to maintain good order among these innocent and happy people.! But even in this meritorious effort of the Jesuits for the good of man- * M. d'Aleinbert has observed, that though the Jesuits have made extraordinary progress in erudition of every species ; though they can reckon up many of their brethren who have been eminent mathematicians, antiquaries, and critics ; though tiiey have even formed some orators of reputation ; yet the order lias never produced one man, whose mind was so much enlightened with sound knowledge as to merit the name of a philosopher. But it seems to be the unavoidable effect of monastic education to contract and fetter the human mind. The partial attachment of a monk to the interest of his order, which is often incompatible with that of other citizens : ihe habit of implicit obedience to the will of a superior, together with the frequent return of the wearisome and frivolous duties of the cloister, debase his faculties, and extinguish that generosity of sentiment and spirit, which qualifies men for thinking or feeling justly with respect to what is proper in HH conduct. Father Paul of Venice is, perhaps, the only person educated in a cloister, that ever \\ :i-> altogether superior to its prejudices, or who viewed the transactions of men, and reasoned concern ing the interests of society, with the enlarged sentiments of a philosopher, with the discernment 01 a man conversant in affairs, and with the liberality c.f a gentleman. t Hist, du Paraguay par Pcre de Charlevoix, toiu. ii. 42. &c. Vovage au Per»u uar Don G Jnv * D. Ant. lie Ulloa. torn i. 540. &c. Par. 4to 37W EMPEROR CHARLES \. 293 kind, the genius and spirit of their order have mingled and are discernible. They plainly aimed at establishing in Paraguay an independent empire, subject to the society alone, and which, by the superior excellence of its constitution and police, could scarcely have failed to extend its dominion over all the southern continent of America. With this view, in order to prevent the Spaniards or Portuguese in the adjacent settlements from ac- quiring any dangerous influence over the people within the limits ot the province subject to the society, the Jesuits endeavoured to inspire the In- dians with hatred and contempt of these nations. They cut off all inter- course between their subjects and the Spanish or Portuguese settlements. They prohibited any private trader of either nation from entering their territories. When they were obliged to admit any person in a public cha- racter from the neighbouring governments, they did not permit him to have any conversation with their subjects, and no Indian was allowed even to enter the house where these strangers resided, unless in the presence of a Jesuit. In order to render any communication between them as difficult as possible, they industriously avoided giving the Indians any knowledge of the Spanish, or of any other European language ; but encouraged the dif- ferent tribes, which they had civilized, to acquire a certain dialect of the Indian tongue, and laboured to make that the universal language through- out their dominions. As all these precautions, without military force, would have been insufficient to have rendered their empire secure and permanent, they instructed their subjects in the European arts of war. They formed them into bodies of cavalry and infantry, completely armed and regularly disciplined. They provided a great train of artillery, as well as magazines stored with all the implements of war. Thus they established an army so numerous and well appointed, as to be formidable in a country, where a few sickly and ill-disciplined battalions composed all the military force kept on foot by the Spaniards or Portuguese.* The Jesuits gained no considerable degree of power during the reign of Charles V., who, with his usual sagacity, discerned the dangerous ten- dency of the institution, and checked its progress.t But as the order was founded in the period of which I write the history, and as the age to which I address this work hath seen its fall, the view which I have exhi- bited of the laws and genius of this formidable body will not, I hope, be unacceptable to my readers ; especially as one circumstance has enabled me to enter into this detail with particular advantage. Europe had ob- served, for two centuries, the ambition and power of the order. But while it felt many fatal effects of these, it could not fully discern the causes to which they were to be imputed. It was unacquainted with many of the singular regulations in the political constitution or government of the Jesuits, which formed the enterprising spirit of intrigue that distinguished its members, and elevated the body itself to such a height of power. It was a fundamental maxim with the Jesuits, from their first institution, not to publish the rules of their order. These they kept concealed as an im- penetrable mystery. They never communicated them to strangers ; nor even to the greater part of their own members. They refused to produce them when required by courts of justice ;| and by a strange solecism in policy, the civil power in different countries authorized or connived at the establishment of an order of men, whose constitution and laws were con- cealed with a solicitude which alone was a good reason for excluding them. Durinff the prosecutions lately carried on against them in Portugal and V ranee, the Jesuits have been so inconsiderate as to produce the mys- terious volumes of their institute. By the aid of these authentic records, the principles of their government may be delineated, and the sources of * Voyape de Juan & ds Hlloa. torn. i. 549. Recucil dee tontes les Pieces qui ont paru sur les Af- faires des Jesuites en Portugal, lorn. i. p. 7, tic. t Compte par M. de Moncl. r). 312. t Hi»». dp* Jw. torn. iii. 236. tie. ( 'nmpte nar M de Thalot. p. 38 ?94 THE REIGN OF THE [Hook VI. Iheir power investigated with a degree of certainty and precision, which, previous to that event, it was impossible to attain.* But as I have pointed out the dangerous tendency of the constitution and spirit of the order with the freedom becoming an historian, the candour and impartiality no less requisite in that character call on me to add one observation, that no class of regular clergy in the Romish church has been more eminent for decency and even purity of manners, than the major part of the order of Jesuits.! The maxims of an intriguing, ambitious, interested policy, might influence those who governed the society, and might even corrupt the heart, and pervert the conduct of some individuals, while the greater number, en- f;aged in literary pursuits, or employed in the functions of religion, was eft to the guidance of those common principles which restrain men from vice, and excite them to what is becoming and laudable. The causes which occasioned the ruin of this mighty body, as well as the circum- stances and effects with which it has been attended in the different coun- tries of Europe, though objects extremely worthy the attention of every intelligent observer of human affairs, do not fall within the period of this history. No sooner had Charles re-established order in the Low-Countries, than he was obliged to turn his attention to the affairs in Germany. The pro- testants pressed him earnestly to appoint that conference between a select number of the divines of each party, which had been stipulated in the convention at Frankfort. The pope considered such an attempt to exa- mine into the points in dispute, or to decide concerning them, as deroga- tory to his right of being the supreme judge in controversy; and being convinced that such a conference would either be ineffectual by deter- mining nothing, or prove dangerous by determining too much, he employed every art to prevent it. The emperor, however, finding it more for his interest to soothe the Germans than to gratify Paul, paid little regard to his remonstrances. In a diet held at Haguenaw [June 25], matters were ripened for the conference. In another diet assembled at Worms [Dec. 6], the conference was begun, Melancthon on the one side and Eckius on the other sustaining the principal part in the dispute ; but after they had made some progress, though without concluding any thing, it was sus- pended by the emperor's command, that it might be renewed with greater solemnity in his own presence, in a diet summoned to meet at Ratis- bon [1541]. This assembly was opened with great pomp, and with a feneral expectation that its proceedings would be vigorous and decisive. >y the consent of both parties, the emperor was intrusted with the power of nominating the persons who should manage the conference, which it was agreed should be conducted not in the form of a public disputation, but as a friendly scrutiny or examination into the articles which had given rise to the present controversies. He appointed Eckius, Gropper, and Pflug, on the part of the catholics ; Melancthon, Bucer, and Pistorius, on that of the protestants ; all men of distinguished reputation among their own ad- herents, and, except Eckius, all eminent for moderation, as well as desi- rous of peace. As they were about to begin their consultations, the em- peror put into their hands a book, composed, as he said, by a learned divine in the Low-Countries, with such extraordinary perspicuity and tem- per, as, in his opinion, might go far to unite and comprehend the two con- tending parties, Gropper a canon of Cologne, whom he had named * The greater part of my information concerning the government and laws of the order of Jesuits, I have derived from the reports of M. de Chalolais, and M. de Monclar. I rest not my narrativi however, upon the authority even of thcsp respectable magistrates and elegant writers, but upon innumerable passages which they have extracted from the constitutions of the order deposited in their hands. Hospinian, a protestant divine of Zurich, in his Historic. Jcsuitica. printed A. D. lttli), published a small part of the constitutions of the Jesuits, of which by somo accident he ba " got a copy, p. 13—54. t Sur la Destruct. des Jes. par M. d'Alembert. p. r>.~. E M PEKUK C H A K L K S V . 29£ among: the managers of the conference, a man of address as well as of erudition, was afterwards suspected of heing the author of this short treatise. It contained positions with regard to twenty-two of the chief articles in theology, which included most of the questions then agitated in the controversy between the Lutherans and the church of Rome. By ranging his sentiments in a natural order, and expressing them with great simplicity ; hy employing often the very words of scripture, or of the primitive fathers; by softening the rigour of some opinions, and explaining away what was absurd in others ; by concessions, sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other ; and especially by banishing as much as pos- sible scholastic phrases, those words and terms of arts in controversy, which serve as badges of distinction to different sects, and for which theo- logians often contend more fiercely than for opinions themselves ; he at last framed his work in such a manner, as promised fairer than any thing that had hitherto been attempted to compose and to terminate religious dissensions * But the attention of the age was turned, with such acute observation, towards theological controversies, that it was not easy to impose on it by any gloss, how artful or specious soever. The length and eagerness of the dispute had separated the contending parties so completely, and had set their minds at such variance, that they were not to be reconciled by partial concessions. All the zealous catholics, particularly the ecclesiastics who had a seat in the diet, joined in condemning Gropper's treatise as too favourable to the Lutheran opinion, the poison of which heresy it conveyed, as they pretended, with greater danger, because it was in some degree disguised. The rigid protestants, especially Luther himself, and his patron the elector of Saxony, were for rejecting it as an impious compound of error and truth, craftily prepared that it might impose on the weak, the timid, and the unthinking. But the divines, to whom the examination of it was committed, entered upon that business with greater deliberation and temper. As it was more easy in itself, as well as more consistent with the dignity of the church, to make concessions, and even alterations with regard to speculative opinions, the discussion whereof is confined chiefly to schools, and which present nothing to the people that either strikes their imagination or affects their senses, they came to an accommo- dation about these without much labour, and even defined the great article concerning justification to their mutual satisfaction. But, when they pro- ceeded to points of jurisdiction, where the interest and authority of the Roman see were concerned, or to the rites and forms of external worship, where every change that could be made must be public, and draw the chservation of the people, there the catholics were altogether untractable ; nor could the church either with safety or with honour abolish its ancient institutions. All the articles relative to the power of the pope, the autho- rity of councils, the administration of the sacraments, the worship of saints, and many other particulars, did not, in their nature, admit of any temperament ; so that atter labouring long to bring about an accommoda- tion with respect to these, the emperor found all his endeavours ineffectual. Being impatient, however, to close the diet, he at last prevailed on a majority of the members to approve of the following recess [July 28] ; " That the articles concerning which the divines had agreed in the con- ference, should be held as points decided, and be observed inviolably by all ; that the other articles, about which they had differed, should be re- ferred to the determination of a general council, or if that could not be obtained, to a national synod of Germany ; and if it should prove imprac- ticable, likewise, to assemble a synod, that a general diet of the empire should be called within eighteen months, in order to give some final iudg- * Goldast. Const. Tmper. ii. p. 1«2. *% THE KEIGft OF THE [BookYI. ment upon the whole controversy ; that the emperor should use all his interest and authority with the pope, to procure the meeting; either of a general council or synod ; that, in the mean time, no innovations should be attempted, no endeavours should be employed to gain proselytes ; and neither the revenues of the church, nor the rights of monasteries, should be invaded."* All the proceedings of this diet, as well as the recess in which they terminated, gave great offence to the pope. The power which the Ger- mans had assumed of appointing their own divines to examine and deter- mine matters of controversy, he considered as a very dangerous invasion of his rights ; the renewing of their ancient proposal concerning a national synod, which had been so often rejected by him and his predecessors, ap- peared extremely undutiful ; but the bare mention of allowing a diet, com- posed chiefly of laymen, to pass judgment with respect to articles of faith, was deemed no less criminal and profane than the worst of those heresies which they seemed zealous to suppress. On the other hand, the protes- tants were no less dissatisfied with a recess, that considerably abridged the liberty which they enjoyed at that time. As they murmured loudly against it, Charles, unwilling to leave any seeds of discontent in the em- pire, granted them a private declaration in the most ample terms, exempt- ing them from whatever they thought oppressive or injurious in the recess, and ascertaining to them the full possession of all the privileges which they had ever enjoyed. t Extraordinary as these concessions may appear, the situation of the emperor's affairs at this juncture made it necessary for him to grant them. He foresaw a rupture with France to be not only unavoidable, but near at hand, and durst not give any such cause of disgust or fear to the protes- tants, as might force them, in self-defence, to court the protection of the French king, from whom, at present, they were much alienated. The rapid progress of the Turks in Hungary was a more powerful and urgent motive to that moderation which Charles discovered. A great revolution had happened in that kindgom ; John Zapol Scaepus having chosen, as has been related, rather to possess a tributary kingdom, than to renounce the royal dignity to which he had been accustomed, had, by the assistance of his mighty protector Solyman, wrested from Ferdinand a great part of the country, and left him only the precarious possession of the rest. But being a prince of pacific qualities, the frequent attempts of Ferdinand, or of his partisans among the Hungarians, to recover what they had lost, greatly disquieted him ; and the necessity on these occasions, of calling in the Turks, whom he considered and felt to be his masters rather than auxiliaries, was hardly less mortifying. In orde'r, therefore, to avoid these distresses, as well as to secure quiet and leisure for cultivating the arts and enjoying amusements in which he delighted, he secretly came to an agree- ment with his competitor [A. D. 15i5% on this condition ; That Ferdi- nand should acknowledge him as king of Hungary, and leave him during life, the unmolested possession of that part of the kingdom now in his power ; but that, upon his demise, the sole right of the whole should de- volve upon Ferdinand.^ As John had never been married, and was then far advanced in life, the terms of the contract seemed very favourable to Ferdinand. But, soon after, some of the Hungarian nobles, solicitous to prevent a foreigner from ascending their throne, prevailed on John to put an end to a long celibacy, by marrying Isabella, the daughter of Sigismond king of Poland. John had the satisfaction, before his death, which hap- pened within less than a year alter his marriage, to see a son born to inherit Sleidan. 2G7, &c Pallav. .. iv. c. 11. p. 136. F. Paul, p. 86. Seckend. 1. ih'256. t Sleid, L'HX Seckend. :S(iO. I)u Mont Corps Diplom. iv. p. ii. p. 210. J TgtuanhaffiiHist. Hung. Iit>. xil. p. 135. EMPEROR CHARLES \. 2M his kingdom. To him, without regarding his treaty with Ferdinand, which he considered, no doubt, as void, upon an event not foreseen when it was concluded, he bequeathed his crown ; appointing the queen and George Martinuzzi, bishop of Waradin, guardians of his son, and regent* of the kingdom. The greater part of the Hungarians immediately ac- knowledged the young prince as king, to whom, in memory of the founder of their monarchy, they gave the name of Stephen.* Ferdinand, though extremely disconcerted by this unexpected event, resolved not to abandon the kingdom which he flattered himseh with having acquired by his compact with John. He sent ambassadors to the queen to claim possession, and to otter the province of Transylvania as a settlement for her son, preparing at the same time to assert his right by force of arms. But John had committed the care of his son to persons, who had too much spirit to give up the crown tamely, and who possessed abilities sufficient to defend it. The queen, to all the address peculiar to her own sex, added a masculine courage, ambition, and magnanimity. Martinuzzi, who had raised himself from the lowest rank in life to his present dignity, was one of those extraordinary men, who, by the extent as well as variety of their talents, are fitted to act a superior part in bustling and factious times. In discharging the functions of his ecclesiastical office, he put on the semblance of an humble and austere sanctity. In civil transactions, he discovered industry, dexterity, and boldness. During war, he laid aside the cassock, and appeared on horseback with his scimitar and buckler, as active, as ostentatious, and as gallant as any of his coun- trymen. Amidst all these different and contradictory forms which he could assume, an insatiable desire of dominion and authority was conspi- cuous. From such persons it was obvious what answer Ferdinand had to expect. He soon perceived that he must depend on arms alone for reco- vering Hungary. Having levied for this purpose a considerable body of Germans, whom his partisans among the Hungarians joined with their vassals, he ordered them to march into that part of the kingdom which adhered to Stephen. Martinuzzi, unable to make head against such a powerful army in the field, satisfied himself with holding out the towns, all of which, especially Buda, the place of greatest consequence, he provided with every thing necessary for defence ; and in the mean time he sent am- bassadors to Solyman, beseeching him to extend towards the son the same imperial protection which had so long maintained the father on his throne. The sultan, though Ferdinand used his utmost endeavours to thwart this negotiation, and even offered to accept of the Hungarian crown on the same ignominious condition, of paying tribute to the Ottoman Porte, by which John had held it, saw such prospects of advantage from espousing the interest of the young king, that he instantly promised him his protection ; and commanding one army to advance forthwith towards Hungary, he him- self followed with another. Meanwhile the Germans, hoping to terminate the war by the reduction of a city in which the king and his mother were shut up, had formed the siege of Buda. Martinuzzi, having drawn thither the strength of the Hungarian nobility, defended the town with such courage and skill, as allowed the Turkish forces time to come up to its relief. They instantly attacked the Germans, weakened by fatigue, diseases, and deser- tion, and defeated them with great slaughter.! Solyman soon after joined his victorious troops, and being weary of so many expensive expeditions undertaken in defence of dominions which were not his own, or being unable to resist this alluring opportunity of seizing a kingdom, while possessed by an infant, under the guardianship of a woman and a priest, he allowed interested considerations to triumph with too much facility over the principles of honour and the sentiments oi * Jovii Hist. lib. xxxix. p. 239. a. Sec. * Jstuanhaffii Hist. Huns. lib. xiv. p. ISO. Vol. II.— 38 9B8 THE REIGN OF THE tBooK VI. humanity. What he planned ungenerously, he executed by fraud. Having prevailed on the queen to send her son, whom he pretended to be desirous of seeing, into his camp, and having, at the same time, invited the chief of the nobility to an entertainment there, while they, suspecting no treachery, gave themselves up to the mirth and jollity of the feast, a select band of troops by the sultan's orders seized one of the gates of Buda. Being thus master of the capital, of the king's person, and of the leading men among the nobles, he gave orders to conduct the queen, together with her son, to Transylvania, which province he allotted to them, and appointing a basha to preside in Buda with a large body of soldiers, annexed Hungary to the Ottoman empire.* The tears and complaints of the unhappy queen had no influence to change his purpose, nor could Martinuzzi either resist his absolute and uncontrollable command, or prevail on him to recall it. Before the account of this violent usurpation reached Ferdinand, he was so unlucky as to have despatched other ambassadors to Solyman with a fresh representation of his right to the crown of Hungary, as well as a renewal of his former overture to hold the kingdom of the Ottoman Porte, and to pay for it an annual tribute. This ill-timed proposal was rejected with scorn. The sultan, elated with success, and thinking that he might prescribe what terms he pleased to a prince who voluntarily proffered conditions so unbecoming his own dignity, declared that he would not sus- pend the operations of war, unless Ferdinand instantly evacuated all the towns which he still held in Hungary, and consented to the imposition of a tribute upon Austria, in order to reimburse the sums which his presump- tuous invasion of Hungary had obliged the Ottoman Forte to expend in defence of that kingdom.! In this state were the affairs of Hungary. As the unfortunate events there had either happened before the dissolution of the diet at Ratisbon, or were dreaded at that time, Charles saw the danger of irritating and inflaming the minds of the Germans, while a formidable enemy was ready to break into the empire ; and perceived that he could not expect any vigorous assistance either towards the recovery of Hungary, or the defence of the Austrian frontier, unless hje courted and satisfied the protestants. By the concessions which have been mentioned, he gained this point, and such liberal supplies, both of men and money, were voted for carrying on the war against the Turks, as left him under little anxiety about the secu- rity of Germany during the next campaign. J Immediately upon the conclusion of the diet, the emperor set out for Italy. As he passed through Lucca, he had a short interview with the pope ; but nothing could be concluded concerning the proper method of composing the religious disputes in Germany, between two princes, whose views and interests with regard to that matter were at this juncture so opposite. The pope's endeavours to remove the causes of discord between Charles and Francis, and to extinguish those mutual animosities which threatened to break out suddenly into open hostility, were not more successful. The emperor's thoughts were bent so entirely, at that time, on the great enterprise which he had concerted against Algiers, that he listened with little attention to the pope's schemes or overtures, and hastened to join his army and fleet.§ Algiers still continued in that state of dependence on the Turkish empire to which Barbarossa had subjected it. Ever since he, as captain Basha, commanded the Ottoman fleet, Algiers had been governed by Hascen-Aga, a renegado eunuch, who, by passing through every station in the corsair's service, had acquired such experience in war, that he was well fitted for a * Istuanhaffii Hist. Hung. lib. xiv. p. 50. Jovii Histor. lib. xxxix. p. 2476, &c. t Istuanhaffii Hist Hung. lib. xiv. p. 15R J Sleid.283 fc Sandov. Hist. torn. H. 2P« E M P E K O K C H A R L E S \ . 2»* station which required a man of tried and daring courage. Hascen, in order to show how well he deserved that dignity, carried on his piratical depredations against the Christian states with amazing activity, and out- did, if possible, Barbarossa himself in boldness and cruelty. The com- merce of the Mediterranean was greatly interrupted by his cruisers, and such frequent alarms given to the coast of Spain, that there was a necessity of erecting watch-towers at proper distances, and of keeping guards con- stantly on foot, in order to descry the approach of his squadrons, and to protect the inhabitants from their descents.* Of this the emperor had received repeated and clamorous complaints from his subjects, who repre- sented it as an enterprise corresponding to his power, and becoming his humanity, to reduce Algiers, which, since the conquest of Tunis, was the common receptacle of all the free-booters ; and to exterminate that lawless race, the implacable enemies of the Christian name. Moved partly by their entreaties, and partly allured by the hope of adding to the glory which he had acquired by his last expedition into Africa, Charles, before he left Madrid in his way to the Low-Countries, had issued orders both in Spain and Italy, to prepare a fleet and army for this purpose. No change in circumstances, since that time, could divert him from this resolution, or prevail on him to turn his arms towards Hungary ; though the success of the Turks in that country seemed more immediately to require his presence there ; though many of his most faithful adherents in Germany urged that the defence of the empire ought to be his first and peculiar care ; though such as bore him no good-will ridiculed his preposterous con- duct in flying from an enemy almost at hand, that he might go in quest of a remote and more ignoble foe. But to attack the sultan in Hungary, how splendid soever that measure might appear, was an undertaking which exceeded his power, and was not consistent with his interest. To draw troops out of Spain or Italy, to march them into a country so distant as Hungary, to provide the vast apparatus necessary for transporting thither the artillery, ammunition, and baggage of a regular army, and to push the war in that quarter, where there was little prospect of bringing it to an issue during several campaigns, were undertakings so expensive and unwieldy as did not correspond with the low condition of the emperor's treasury. While his principal force was thus employed, his dominions in Italy and the Low-Countries must have lain open to the French king, who would not have allowed such a favourable opportunity of attacking them to go unimproved. Whereas the African expedition, the preparations for which were already finished, and almost the whole expense of it defrayed, would depend upon a single effort ; and besides the security and satisfac- tion which the success of it must give his subjects, would detain him during ho short a space, that Francis could hardly take advantage of his absence, to invade his dominions in Europe. On all these accounts, Charles adhered to his first plan, and with such determined obstinacy, that he paid no regard to the pope, who advised, or to Andrew Doria, who conjured him not to expose his whole armament to almost unavoidable destruction, by venturing to approach the dangerous coast of Algiers at such an advanced season of the year, and when the autumnal winds were so violent. Having embarked on board Doria's galleys at Porto Venere in the Genoese territories, he soon found that this experienced sailor had not judged wrong concerning the element with which he was so well acquainted; for such a storm arose, that it was with the utmost difficulty and danger he reached Sardinia, the place of general rendezvous. But as his courage was undaunted, and his temper often inflexible, neither the renewed remonstrances of the pope and Dona, nor the danger to which he had already been exposed by disregarding their advice* * Jovii Hist. 1. xl.p. 266. 300 THE HEIGN OF THE [Book Vf. had any other effect than to confirm him in his fatal resolution. The force, indeed, which he had collected, was such as might have inspired a prince less adventurous, and less confident in his own schemes, with the most sanguine hopes of success. It consisted of twenty thousand foot, and two thousand horse, Spaniards, Italians, and Germans, mostly veterans, together with three thousand volunteers, the flower of the Spanish and Italian nobility, fond of paying court to the emperor by attending him in his favourite expedition, and eager to share in the glory which they believed he was going to reap ; to these were added a thousand soldiers sent from Malta by the order ot St. John, led by a hundred of its most gallant knight6. The voyage, from Majorca to the African coast, was not less tedious, or full of hazard, than that which he had just finished. When he approached the land, the roll of the sea, and vehemence of the winds, would not permit the troops to disembark. But at last the emperor, seizing a favourable opportunity, landed them without opposition, not far from Algiers, and immediately advanced towards the town. To oppose this mighty army, Hascen had only eight hundred Turks, and five thousand Moors, partly natives of Africa, and partly refugees from Granada. He returned, how- ever, a fierce and haughty answer, when summoned to surrender. But with such a handful of soldiers, neither his desperate courage, nor consum- mate skill in war, could have long resisted forces superior to those which had defeated Barbarossa at the head of sixty thousand men, and which had reduced Tunis, in spite of all his endeavours to save it. But how far soever the emperor might think himself beyond the reach of any danger from the enemy, he was suddenly exposed to a more dreadful calamity, and one against which human prudence and human efforts availed nothing. On the second day after his landing, and before he had time for any thing but to disperse some light armed Arabs who molested his troops on their march, the clouds began to gather, and the heavens to appear with a fierce and threatening aspect. Towards evening, rain began to fall, accompanied with violent wind ;and the rage of the tempest in- creasing, during the night, the soldiers, who had brought nothing ashore but their arms, remained exposed "to all its fury, without tents, or shelter, or cover of any kind. The ground was soon so wet that they could not lie down on it ; their camp being in a low situation, was overflowed with water, and they sunk at every step to the ankles in mud ; while the wind blew with such impetuosity, that, to prevent their falling, they were obliged to thrust their spears into the ground, and to support themselves by taking hold of them. Hascen was too vigilant an officer to allow an enemy in such distress to remain unmolested. About the dawn of morn- ing, he sallied out with soldiers, who having been screened from the storm under their own roofs, were fresh and vigorous. A body of Italians, who were stationed nearest the city, dispirited and benumbed with cold, fled at the approach of the Turks. The troops at the post behind them dis- covered greater courage ; but as the rain had extinguished their matches, and wetted their powder, their muskets were useless, and having scarcely strength to handle their other arms, they were soon thrown into confusion. Almost the whole army, with the emperor himself in person, was obliged to advance, before the enemy could be repulsed, who, after spreading such general consternation, and killing a considerable number of men, retired at last in good order. But all feeling or remembrance of this loss and danger were quickly obliterated by a more dreadful as well as affecting spectacle. It was now broad day ; the hurricane had abated nothing of its violence, and the sea appeared agitated with all the rage of which that destructive element is capable ; all the ships, on which alone the whole army knew that their safety and subsistence depended, were seen driven from their anchors, some dashing against each other, some beat to pieces on the rocks, many EMPEKOR CHARLES V' 361 forced ashore, and not a few sinking in the waves. In less than an hour, fifteen ships of war, and a hundred and forty transports with eight thousand men perished ; and such of the unhappy crews as escaped the fury of the sea, were murdered without mercy by the Arabs, as soon as they reached land. The emperor stood in silent anguish and astonishment beholding this fatal event, which at once blasted all his hopes of success, and buried in the depths the vast stores which he had provided, as well for annoying the enemy, as for subsisting his own troops. He had it not in his power to afford them any other assistance or reliet than by sending some troops to drive away the Arabs, and thus delivering a few who were so fortunate as to get ashore from the cruel fate which their companions had met with. At last the wind began to fall, and to give some hopes that as many ships might escape as would be sufficient to save the army from perishing by famine, and transport them back to Europe. But these were only hopes : the approach of evening covered the sea with darkness ; and it being- impossible for the officers aboard the ships which had outlived the storm, to send any intelligence to their companions who were ashore, they remained during the night in all the anguish of suspense and uncertainty. Next da}-, a boat despatched by Doria made shift to reach land, with information, that having weathered out the storm, to which, during fifty years knowledge of the sea, he had never seen any equal in fierceness and horror, he had found it necessary to bear away with his shattered ships to Cape Metafuz. He advised the emperor, as the face of the sky w'as still lowering anil tempestuous, to march with all speed to that place, where the troop* could re-embark with greater ease. Whatever comfort this intelligence afforded Charles, from being assured that part of his fleet had escaped, was balanced by the new cares and perplexity in which it involved him with regard to his army. Metafuz was at least three days' march from his present camp ; all the provisions which he had brought ashore at his first landing were now consumed ; his soldiers, worn out with fatigue, were hardly able for such a march, even in a friendly country, and being dispirited by a succession of hardships which victory itseh would scarcely have rendered tolerable, they were in no condition to undergo new toils. But the situation of the army was such as allowed not one moment for deliberation, nor left it in the least doubtful what to choose. They were ordered instantly to march, the wounded, the sick, and the feeble being placed in the centre ; such as seemed most vigorous were stationed in the front and rear. Then the sad effects of what they had suffered began to appear more manifestly than ever, and new- calamities were added to all those which they had already endured. Some could hardly bear the weight of their arms ; others, spent with the toil of forcing their way through deep and almost impassable roads, sunk down and died ; many perished by famine, as the whole army subsisted chiefly on roots and berries, or the flesh of horses, killed by the emperor's order, and distributed among the several battalions ; many were drowned in brooks, which were swollen so much by the excessive rains, that in passing them they waded up to the chin : not a few were killed by the enemy, who during the greatest part of their retreat, alarmed, harassed, and annoyed them night and day. At last they arrived at Metafuz : and the weather being now so calm as to restore their communication with the fleet, they were supplied with plenty of provisions, and cheered with the prospect of safety. During this dreadful series of calamities, the emperor discovered great qualities, many of which a long continued flow of prosperity had scarcely afforded him an opportunity ot displaying. He appeared conspicuous for firmness and constancy of spirit, for magnanimity, fortitude, humanity, and compassion. He endured as great hardships as the meanest soldier ; he ^xpo«ed his own person wherever danger threatened : be enooirra, &c. 300, ic. Brantome. t Beck, lib. lii. 403. i Hartri Anna), Brtbant. t. i. B'JH. Recueil des Fraitez, t. ii. ■■US. EMPEROR CHARLES V. :w* Having thus chastised the presumption of the duke of Cleves, detached one of his allies from Francis, and annexed to his own dominions in the Low-Countries a considerable province which lay contiguous to them, Charles advanced towards Hainault, and laid siege to Landrecy. There, as the first fruits of his alliance with Henry, he was joined by six thousand English under Sir John Wallop. The garrison, consisting of veteran troops commanded by De La Lande and Desse, two officers ot reputation, made a vigorous resistance. Francis approached with all his forces to relieve that place ; Charles covered the siege ; both were determined to hazard an engagement ; and all Europe expected to see this contest, which had continued so long, decided at last by a battle between two great armies led by their respective monarchs in person. But the ground which sepa- rated their two camps was such, as put the disadvantage manifestly on his side who should venture to attack, and neither of them chose to run that risk. Amidst a variety of movements in order to draw the enemy into the snare, or to avoid it themselves, Francis, with admirable conduct and equally good fortune, threw first a supply of fresh troops, and then a con- voy of provisions, into the town, so that the emperor, despairing of success, withdrew into winter-quarters,* in order to preserve his army from being entirely ruined by the rigour of the season. During this campaign, Solyman fulfilled his engagements to the French king with great punctuality. He himself marched into Hungary with a numerous army [November] ; and as the princes of the empire made no great effort to save a country which Charles, by employing his own force against Francis, seemed willing to sacrifice, there was no appearance of any body of troops to oppose his progress. He besieged, one after another, Q,uinque Ecclesiae, Alba, and Gran, the three most considerable towns in the kingdom, of which Ferdinand had kept possession. The first was taken by storm ; the other two surrendered ; and the whole kingdom, a small corner excepted, was subjected to the Turkish yoke.j About the same time, Barbarossa sailed with a fleet of a hundred and ten galleys, and coasting along the shore of Calabria, made a descent at Rheggio, which he plundered and burnt ; and advancing from thence to the mouth of the Tiber, he stopped there to water. The citizens of Rome, ignorant of his destination, and filled with terror, began to fly with such general precipi- tation, that the city would have been totally deserted, if they had not resumed courage upon letters from Paulin the French envoy, assuring them that no violence or injury would be offered by the Turks to any state in alliance with the king his master.| From Ostia, Barbarossa sailed to Marseilles, and being joined by the French fleet with a body of land forces on board, under the count d'Enguien, a gallant young prince of the house of Bourbon, they directed their course towards Nice, the sole retreat of the unfortunate duke of Savoy [August 10]. There, to the astonishment and scandal of all Christendom, the lilies of France and crescent of Mahomet appeared in conjunction against a fortress on which the cross of Savoy was displayed. The town, however, was bravely defended against their combined force by Montfort, a Savoyard gentleman, who stood 3 general assault, and repulsed the enemy with great loss before he retired into the castle. That fort, situated upon a rock, on which the artillery made no impression, and which could not be undermined, he held out so long, that Doria had time to approach with his fleet, and the marquis del Guasto to march with a body of troops from Milan. Upon intelligence of this, the French and Turks raised the siege [Sept. 8] ;§ and Francis had not even the consolation of success, to render the infamy which he drew on himself, by calling in such an auxiliary, more pardonable. * Bcllay, 405, &c. t Istuanhaff. Histor. Hung. 1. xv. 167. t -'ovii Hist. I. xliii. 304, &e Pallavic. Ifin. <\ Guiehenon Histoire de Savoye. torn. i. p. 651. Bellay, 425, &.<■ 810 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VII. From the small progress of either party during this campaign, it was ohvious to what a length the war might be drawn out between two princes, whose power was so equally balanced, and who, by their own talents or activity, could so vary and multiply their resources. The trial which they had now made of each other's strength might have taught them the imprudence of persisting in a war, wherein there was greater appearance of their distressing their own dominions than of conquering those of their adversary, and should have disposed both to wish for peace. If Charles and Francis had been influenced by considerations of interest or prudence alone, this, without doubt, must have been the manner in which they would have reasoned. But the personal animosity, which mingled itself in all their quarrels, had grown to be so violent and impla- cable, that, for the pleasure of gratifying it, they disregarded every thing else ; and were infinitely more solicitous how to hurt each other, than how to secure what would be of advantage to themselves. No sooner then did the season force them to suspend hostilities, than, without paying any attention to the pope's repeated endeavours or paternal exhortations to re-establish peace, they began to provide for the operations of the next year with new vigour, and an activity increasing with their hatred. Charles turned his chief attention towards gaining the princes of the empire, and endeavoured to rouse the formidable but unwieldy strength of the Ger- manic body against Francis. In order to understand the propriety of the steps which he took for that purpose, it is necessary to review the chief tiansactions in that countiy since the diet of Ratisbon in the year 1541. Much about the time that that assembly broke up, Maurice succeeded his father Henry in the government of that part of Saxony which belonged to the Albertine branch of the Saxon family. This young prince, then only in his twentieth year, had, even at that early period, begun to dis- cover the great talents which qualified him for acting such a distinguished part in the affairs of Germany. As soon as he entered upon the adminis- tration, he struck out into such a new and singular path, as showed that he aimed from the beginning, at something great and uncommon. Though zealously attached to the protestant opinions, both from education and principle, he refused to accede to the league of Smalkalde, being deter- mined, as he said, to maintain the purity of religion, which was the original object of that confederacy, but not to entangle himself in the political interests or combinations to which it had given rise. At the same time, foreseeing a rupture between Charles and the confederates o^ Smalkalde, and perceiving which of them was most likely to prevail in the contest, instead of that jealousy and distrust which the other protestants expressed of all the emperor's designs, he affected to place in him an unbounded confidence : and courted his favour with the utmost assiduity. When the other protestants, in the year 1542, either declined assisting Ferdinand in Hungary, or afforded him reluctant and feeble aid, Maurice marched thither in person, and rendered himself conspicuous by his zeal and courage. From the same motive, he had led to the emperor's assistance, during the last campaign, a body of his own troops ; and the gracefulness of his per- son, his dexterity in all military exercises, together with his intrepidity, which courted and delighted in danger, did not distinguish him more in the field, than his great abilities and insinuating address won upon the emperor's confidence and favour.* While by this conduct, which appeared extraordinary to those who held the same opinions with him concerning religion, Maurice endeavoured to pay court to the emperor, he began to discover some degree of jealousy of his cousin the elector of Saxony. This, which proved in the sequel so fatal to the elector, had almost occa- sioned an open rupture between them , and soon after Maurice's accession * Sleid. 316. Seek. I. iii. 3T1. 386. 428 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 311 to the government, they both took arms with equal rage, upon account of a dispute about the right of jurisdiction over a paltry town situated on the Moldaw. They were prevented, however, from proceeding to action by the mediation of the landgrave of Hesse, whose daughter Maurice had married, as well as by the powerful and authoritative admonitions of Luther.* Amidst these transactions, the pope, though extremely irritated at the emperor's concessions to the protestants at the dbt of Ratisbon, was so warmly solicited on all hands, by such as were most devoutly attached to the see of Rome, no less than by those whose fidelity or designs he suspected, to summon a general council, that he found it impossible to avoid any longer calling that assembly. The impatience for its meeting, and the expecta- tions of great effects from its decisions, seemed to grow in proportion to the difficulty of obtaining it. He still adhered, however, to his original resolution of holding it in some town of Italy, where, by the number of ecclesiastics, retainers to his court, and depending on his favour, who could repair to it without difficulty or expense, he might influence and even direct all its proceedings. This proposition, though often rejected by the Germans, he instructed his nuncio to the diet held at Spires [March 3], in the year 1542, to renew once more ; and if he found it gave no greater satisfaction than formerly, he empowered him, as a last concession, to pro- pose for the place of meeting, Trent, a city in the Tyrol, subject to the king of the Romans, and situated on the confines between Germany and Italy. The catholic princes in the diet, after giving it as their opinion that the council might have been held with greater advantage in Ratisbon, Cologne, or some of the great cities of the empire, were at length induced to approve of the place which the pope had named. The protestants unanimously expressed their dissatisfaction, and protested that they would pay no regard to a council held beyond the precincts of the empire, called by the pope's authority, and in which he assumed the right of presiding.! The pope, without taking any notice of their objections, published the bull of intimation [May 22, 1542], named three cardinals to preside as his legates, and appointed them to repair to Trent before the first of Novem- ber, the day he had fixed for opening the council. But if Paul had de- sired the meeting of a council as sincerely as he pretended, he would not have pitched on such an improper time for calling it. Instead of that general union and tranquillity, without which the deliberations of a coun- cil could neither be conducted with security, nor attended with authority, such a fierce war was Just kindled between the emperor and Francis, as rendered it impossible for the ecclesiastics from many parts of Europe to resort thither in safety. The legates, accordingly, remained several months at Trent ; but as no person appeared there, except a few prelates from the ecclesiastical state, the pope, in order to avoid the ridicule and con- tempt which this drew upon him from the enemies of the church, recalled them, and prorogued the council.! Unhappily for the authority of the papal see, at the very time that the German protestants took every occasion of pouring contempt upon it, the emperor and king of the Romans found it necessary not only to connive at their conduct, but to court their favour by repeated acts of indulgence. In the same diet of Spires, in which they had protested in the most disre- spectful terms against assembling a council at Trent, Ferdinand, who de- pended on their aid for the defence of Hungary, not only permitted that protestation to be inserted in the records of the diet, but renewed in their favour all the emperor's concessions at Ratisbon, adding to them whatever * Sleid. 292. Seek. 1. iii 403. * SMd. 201. Swk I. iii. 283. i F. Panl, p. 97. STpmI. 2W. 312 THE REIGN OFTHE [Book VII. they demanded for their farther security. Among other particulars, he granted a suspension of a decree of the Imperial chamber against the city of Goslar (one of those which had entered into the league of Smalkalde), on account of its having seized the ecclesiastical revenues within its do- mains, and enjoined Henry duke of Brunswick to desist from his attempts to carry that decree into execution. But Henry, a furious bigot, and no less obstinate than rash in all his undertakings, continuing to disquiet the Eeople of Goslar by his incursions, the elector of Saxony and landgrave of [esse, that they might not suffer any member of the Smalkaldic body to be oppressed, assembled their forces, declared war in form against Henry, and in the space of a few weeks, stripping him entirely of his dominions, drove him as a wretched exile to take refuge in the court of Bavaria. By this act of vengeance, no less severe than sudden, they filled all Ger- many with dread of their power, and the confederates of Smalkalde ap- peared, by this first effort of their arms, to be as ready as they were able to protect those who had joined their association.* Emboldened by so many concessions in their favour, as well as by the progress which their opinions daily made, the princes of the league of Smalkalde took a solemn protest against the Imperial chamber, and de- clined its jurisdiction for the future, because that court had not been visited or reformed according to the decree of Ratisbon, and continued to discover a most indecent partiality in all its proceedings. Not long after this, they ventured a step farther ; and protesting against the recess of a diet held at Nuremberg [April 23, 1543], which provided for the defence of Hun- gary, refused to furnish their contingent for that purpose unless the Impe- rial chamber were reformed, and full security were granted them in every point with regard to religion.! 1544.] Such were the lengths to which the protestants had proceeded, and such their confidence in their own power when the emperor returned from the Low-Countries, to bold a diet which he had summoned to meet at Spires. The respect due to the emperor, as well as the importance of the affairs which were to be laid before it, rendered this assembly extremely full. All the electors, a great number of princes ecclesiastical and secular, with the deputies of most of the cities, were present. Charles soon per- ceived that this was not a time to offend the jealous spirit of the protes- tants, by asserting in any high tone the authority and doctrines of the church, or by abridging, in the smallest article, the liberty which they now enjoyed ; but that, on the contrary, if he expected any support from them, or wished to preserve Germany from intestine disorders while he was en- gaged in a foreign war, he must soothe them by new concessions, and a more ample extension of their religious privileges. He began accordingly with courting the elector of Saxony, and landgrave of Hesse, the heads of the protestant party, and by giving up some things in their favour, and granting liberal promises with regard to others, he secured himself from any danger of opposition on their part. Having gained this capital point, he then ventured to address the diet with greater freedom. He began by representing his own zeal, and unwearied efforts with regard to two things most essential to Christendom, the procuring of a general council in order to compose the religious dissensions which had unhappily arisen in Ger- many, and the providing some proper means for checking the formidable progress of the Turkish arms. But he observed, with deep regret, that his pious endeavours had been entirely defeated by the unjustifiable ambi- tion of the French king, who having wantonly kindled the flame of war in Europe, which had been so lately extinguished by the truce of Nice, rendered it impossible for the fathers of the church to assemble in council, * Sleid. 296. Commemoratio Eiiccincta Causarum Belli, &c. a Smalkaldicis contra Ifenr. Bransw. ab iisdem. edita : ap. Scardium, torn. ii. 307. t Sleid. 304. 307 Seek. I. iii. 404. 41f. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 313 or to deliberate with security ; and obliged him to employ those forces in his own defence, which, with greater satisfaction to himself, as well as more honour to Christendom, he would have turned againet the infidels : that Francis, not thinking it enough to have called him off from opposing the Mahometans, had, with unexampled impiety, invited them into the heart of Christendom, and joining his arms to theirs, had openly attacked the duke of Savoy, a member of the empire ; that Barbarossa's fleet was now in one of the ports of France, waiting only the return of spring to carry terror and desolation to the coast of some Christian state : that in such a situation it was folly to think of distant expeditions against the Turk, or of marching to oppose his armies in Hungary, while such a pow- erful ally received him into the centre of Europe, and gave him footing there. It was a dictate of prudence, he added, to oppose the nearest and most imminent danger, first of all, and by humbling the power of France, to deprive Solyman of the advantages which he derived from the unnatu- ral confederacy formed between him and a monarch, who still arrogated the name of Most Christian : that, in truth, a war against the French king and the sultan ought to be considered as the same thing ; and that every advantage gained over the former was a severe and sensible blow to the latter : on all these accounts, he concluded with demanding their aid against Francis, not merely as an enemy of the Germanic body, or of him who was its head, but as an avowed ally of the infidels, and a public enemy to the Christian name. In order to give greater weight to this violent invective of the emperor, the king of the Romans stood up, and related the rapid conquests of the sultan in Hungary, occasioned, as he said, by the fatal necessity imposed on his brother, of employing his arms against France. When he had finished, the ambassadors of Savoy gave a detail of Barbarossa's opera- tions at Nice, and of the ravages which he had committed on that coast. All these, added to the general indignation which Francis's unprecedented union with the Turks excited in Europe, made such an impression on the diet as the emperor wished, and disposed most of the members to grant him such effectual aid as he had demanded. The ambassadors whom Francis had sent to explain the motives of his conduct, were not permitted to enter the bounds of the empire ; and the apology which they published lor their master, vindicating his alliance with Solyman, by examples drawn from scripture, and the practice of Christian princes, was little regarded by men who were irritated already, or prejudiced against him to such a degree, as to be incapable of allowing their proper weight to any argu- ments in his behalf. Such being the favourable disposition of the Germans, Charles perceived that nothing could now obstruct his gaining all that he aimed at, but the fears and jealousies of the protestants, which he determined to quiet by granting every thing that the utmost solicitude of these passions could de- sire for the security of their religion. With this view, he consented to a recess, whereby all the rigorous edicts hitherto issued against the protes- tants were suspended ; a council either general or national to be assembled in Germany was declared necessary, in order to re-establish peace in the rhurch ; until one of these should be held (which the emperor undertook to bring about as soon as possible), the free and public exercise of the protestant religion was authorized ; the Imperial chamber was enjoined to give no molestation to the protestants ; and when the term, for which the present judges in that court were elected, should expire, persons duly qualified were then to be admited as members, without any distinction on account of religion. In return for these extraordinary acts of indulgence, the protestants concurred with the other members of the diet, in declaring war against Francis in name of the empire ; in voting the emperor a body of twenty-four thousand foot, and four thousand horse, to be maintained at Vol. II.— 40 314 THE R E I G N O E THE [Book V II, the public expense for six months, and to be employed against France ; and at the same time the diet imposed a poll-tax to be levied throughout all Germany on every person without exception, for the support of the war against the Turks. Charles, while he gave the greatest attention to the minute and intricate detail of particulars necessary towards conducting the deliberations of a numerous and divided assembly to such a successful period, negotiated a separate peace with the king of Denmark; who, though he had hitherto performed nothing considerable in consequence of his alliance with Francis, had it in his power, however, to make a troublesome diversion in favour of that monarch.* At the same time, he did not neglect proper applications to the king of England, in order to rouse him to more vigorous efforts against their common enemy. Little, indeed, was wanting to accomplish this ; for such events had happened in Scotland as inflamed Henry to the most violent pitch of resentment against Francis. Having concluded with the parliament of Scotland a treaty of marriage between his son and their young queen, by which he reckoned himself secure of effecting the union of the two kingdoms, which had been long desired, and often attempted without success by his predecessors, Mary of Guise the queen mother, cardinal Beatoun, and other partisans of France, found means not only to break off" the match, but to alienate the Scottish nation entirely from the friend- ship of England, and to strengthen its ancient attachment to France. Henry, however, did not abandon an object of so much importance ; and as the humbling of Francis, besides the pleasure of taking revenge upon an enemy who had disappointed a favourite measure, appeared the most effectual method of bringing the Scots to accept once more of the treaty which they had relinquished, he was so eager to accomplish this, that he was ready to second whatever the emperor could propose to be attempted against the French king. The plan, accordingly, which they concerted, was such, if it had been punctually executed, as must have ruined France in the first place, and would have augmented so prodigiously the emperor's power and territories, as might in the end have proved fatal to the liberties of Europe. They agreed to invade France each with an army of twenty- five thousand men, and, without losing time in besieging the frontier towns, to advance directly towards the interior provinces, and to join their forces near Paris. f Francis stood alone in opposition to all the enemies whom Charles was mustering against him. Solyman had been the only ally who did not desert him ;- but the assistance which he received from him had rendered him so odious to all Christendom, that he resolved rather to forego all the advantages of his friendship, than to become, on that account, the object of general detestation. For this reason, he dismissed Barbarossa as soon as winter was over, who, after ravaging the coast of Naples and Tuscany, returned to Constantinople. As Francis could not hope to equal the forces of so many powers combined against him, he endeavoured to supply that defect by despatch, which was more in his power, and to get the start of them in taking the field. Early in the spring the count d'Enguien invested Carignan, a town in Piedmont, which the marquis del Guasto the Imperial general having surprised the former year, considered of so much importance, that he had fortified it at great expense. The count pushed the siege with such vigour, that Guasto, fond of his own conquest, and seeing no other way of saving it from falling into the hands of the French, resolved to hazard a battle in order to relieve it. He began his march from Milan for this purpose, and as he was at no pains to conceal his intention, it was soon known in the French camp. Enguien, a gallant and enterprising young man, wished passionately to try the fortune of a battle ; his troops • Ttn Mont Corps Diplom. torn. iv. p. 2. p. 274. t Herbert. 245. Rellav. 44» EMPEROR CHARLES V. 315 desired it with no less ardour ; but the peremptory injunction of the king- not to venture a general engagement, flowing from a prudent attention to the present situation of affairs, as well as from the remembrance of former disasters, restrained him from venturing upon it. Unwilling, however, to abandon Carignan, when it was just ready to yield, and eager to distinguish his command by some memorable action, he despatched Monluc to court, in order to lay before the king the advantages of fighting the enemy, and the hopes which he had of victory. The king referred the matter to his privy council ; all the ministers declared one after another, against fighting, and supported their sentiments by reasons extremely plausible. While thev were delivering their opinions, Monluc, who was permitted to be present, discovered such visible and extravagant symptoms of impatience to speak, as well as such dissatisfaction with what he heard, that Francis, diverted with his appearance, called on him to declare what he could offer in reply to sentiments which seemed to be as just as they were general. Upon this, Monluc, a plain but spirited soldier, and of known courage, represented the good condition of the troops, their eagerness to meet the enemy in the field, their confidence in their officers, together with the everlasting infamy which the declining of a battle would bring on the French arms ; and he urged his arguments with such lively impetuosity, and such a flow of military eloquence, as gained over to his opinion, not only the king, naturally fond of daring actions, but several of the council. Francis, catching the same enthusiasm which had animated his troops, suddenly started up, and having lifted his hands to heaven, and implored the Divine protection, he then addressed himself to Monluc, " Go," says he, " return to Piedmont, and fight in the name of God."* No sooner was it known that the king had given Enguien leave to fight the Imperialists, than such was the martial ardour of the gallant and high spirited gentlemen of that age, that the court was quite deserted, every person desirous of reputation or capable of service, hurrying to Piedmont, in order to share, as volunteers, in the danger and glory of the action. Encouraged by the arrival of so many brave officers, Enguien immedi- ately prepared for battle, nor did Guasto decline the combat. The number of cavalry was almost equal, but the Imperial infantry exceeded the French by at least ten thousand men. They met near Cerisoles [April 11], in an open plain, which afforded to neither any advantage of ground, and both had full time to form their army in proper order. The shock was such as might have been expected between veteran troops, violent and obstinate. The French cavalry rushing forward to the charge with their usual vivacity, bore down every thing that opposed them ; but, on the other hand, the steady and diiciplined valour of the Spanish infantry having forced the body which they encountered to give way, victory remained in suspense, ready to declare for whichever general could make the best use of that critical moment. Guasto, engaged in that part of his army which was thrown into disorder, and afraid oT falling into the hands of the French, whose vengeance he dreaded on account of the murder of Rincon and Fregoso, lost his presence of mind, and forgot to order a large body of reserve to advance ; whereas Enguien, with admirable courage and equal conduct, supported at the head of his gens d'armes, such of his battalions as began to yield ; and at the same time he ordered the Swiss in his service, who had been victorious wherever they fought, to fall upon the Spaniards. This motion proved decisive. All that followed was confusion and slaughter. The marquis del Guasto, wounded in the thigh, escaped only by the swiftness of his horse. The victory of the French was complete, ten thousand of the Imperialists being slain, and a considerable number, with all their tents, baggage, and artillery, taken. On the part of the ' Mnmnires dp Mnnlnr. 316 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VII. conquerors, their joy was without allay, a few only being killed, and among these no officer of distinction.* This splendid action, beside the reputation with which it was attended, delivered France from an imminent danger, as it ruined the army with which Guasto had intended to invade the countiy between the Rhone and Saone, where there were neither fortified towns nor regular forces to oppose his progress- But it was not in Francis's power to pursue the victory with such vigour as to reap all the advantages which it might have yielded ; for though the Milanese remained now almost defenceless ; though the inhabitants who had long murmured under the rigour of the Imperial government, were ready to throw off the yoke ; though Enguien, flushed with success, urged the king to seize this happy opportunity of recovering a country, the acquisition of which had been long his favourite object ; yet, as the emperor and the king of England were preparing to break in upon the opposite frontier of France with numerous armies, it became necessary to sacrifice all thoughts of conquest to the public safety ; and to recall twelve thousand of Enguien's best troops to be em- ployed in defence of the kingdom. Enguien's subsequent operations were, of consequence, so languid and inconsiderable, that the reduction of Ca- rignan and some other towns in Piedmont, was all that he gained by his great victory at Cerisoles.t The emperor, as usual, was late in taking the field, but he appeared, towards the beginning of June, at the head of an army more numerous and better appointed than any which he had hitherto led against France. It amounted almost to fifty thousand men, and part of it having reduced Luxemburg and some other towns in the Netherlands, before he himself joined it, he now marched with the whole towards the frontiers of Cham- f)agne [June]. Charles, according to his agreement with the king of Eng- and, ought to have advanced directly towards Paris ; and the dauphin, who commanded the only army to which Francis trusted for the security of his dominions in that quarter, was in no condition to oppose him. But the success with which the French had defended Provence in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-six, had taught them the most effectual method of distressing an invading enemy. Champagne, a country abounding more in vines than corn, was incapable of maintaining a great army ; and before the emperor's approach, whatever could be of any use to his troops had been carried off or destroyed. This rendered it neces- sary for him to be master of some places of strength in order to secure the convoys, on which alone he now perceived that he must depend for subsistence ; and he found the frontier towns so ill provided for defence, that he hoped it would not be a work either of much time or difficulty to reduce them. Accordingly Ligny and Commercy, which he first attacked, surrendered after a short resistance. He then invested St. Disier [July 8], which, though it commanded an important pass on the Marne, was des- titute of eveiy thing necessary for sustaining a siege. But the count de Sancerre and M. De la Lande, who had acquired such reputation by the defence of Landrecy, generously threw themselves into the town, and un- dertook to hold it out to the last extremity. The emperor soon found how capable they were of making good their promise, and that he could not expect to take the town without besieging it in form. This accordingly he undertook ; and as it was his nature never to abandon any enterprise in which he had once engaged, he persisted in it with an inconsiderate obstinacy. The king of England's preparations for the campaign were completed long before the emperor's ; but as he did not choose, on the one hand, to encounter alone the whole power of France, and was unwilling, on the * Bella?, 429. Ar. Memoires <\o Monlnr. .Invii Hist. 1. vliv. p. 307. 6. t Bellav. 43P. &c. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 317 other, that his troops should remain inactive, he took that opportunity of chastising the Scots, by sending his fleet, together with a considerable Bart of his infantry, under the earl of Hertford, to invade their country, lertford executed his commission with vigour, plundered and bum!; Edinburgh and Leith, laid waste the adjacent country, and re-embarked his men with such despatch that they joined their sovereign soon after his landing in France* [July 14]. When Henry arrived in that kingdom, he found the emperor engaged in the siege of St. Disier ; an ambassador, however, whom he sent to congratulate the English monarch on his safe arrival on the continent, solicited him to march, in terms of the treaty, directly to Paris. But Charles had set his ally such an ill example of fulfilling the conditions of their confederacy with exactness, that Henry, observing him employ his time and forces in taking towns for his own behoof, saw no reason why he should not attempt the reduction of some places that lay conveniently for himself. Without paying any regard to the emperor's remonstrances, he immediately invested Boulogne, and commanded the duke of Norfolk to press the siege of Montreuil, which had been begun before his arrival, by a body of Flemings, in conjunction with some English troops. While Charles and Henry showed such at- tention each to his own interest, they both neglected the common cause. Instead of the union and confidence requisite towards conducting the great plan that they had formed, they early had discovered a mutual jealousy of each other, which, by degrees, begot distrust, and ended in open hatred.! By this time, Francis had, with unwearied industry, drawn together an army, capable, as well from the number as from the valour of the troops, of making head against the enemy. But the dauphin, who still acted as general, prudently declining a battle, the loss of which would have en- dangered the kingdom, satisfied himself with harassing the emperor with his light troops, cutting off his convoys, and laying waste the country around him. Though extremely distressed by these operations, Charles still pressed the siege of St. Disier, which Sancerre defended with aston- ishing fortitude and conduct. He stood repeated assaults, repulsing the enemy in them all ; and undismayed even by the death of his brave asso- ciate, De la Lande, who was killed by a cannon-ball, he continued to show the same bold countenance and obstinate resolution. At the end of five weeks, he was still in a condition to hold out some time longer, when an artifice of Granville's induced him to surrender. That crafty politi- cian, having intercepted the key to the cipher which the duke of Guise used in communicating intelligence to Sancerre, forged a letter in his name, authorizing Sancerre to capitulate, as the king, though highly satis- fied with his behaviour, thought it imprudent to hazard a battle for his relief. This letter he conveyed into the town in a manner which could raise no suspicion, and the governor fell into the snare. Even then, he obtained such honourable conditions as his gallant defence merited, and among others, a cessation of hostilities for eight days, at the expiration of which he bound himself to open the gates, if Francis, during that time, did not attack the Imperial army, and throw fresh troops into the town.} Thus Sancerre, by detaining the emperor so long before an inconsiderable place, afforded his sovereign full time to assemble all his forces, and, what rarely falls to the lot of an officer in such an inferior command, ac- quired the glory of having saved his country. As soon as St. Disier surrendered, the emperor advanced into the heart of Champagne [August 17], but Sancerre's obstinate resistance had damped his sanguine hopes of penetrating to Paris, and led him seriously to re- flect on what lie might expect before towns of greater strength, and * Hint. Sfotland. * Herbert. t Brantmne. torn, vi. 4°f> 318 THE REIGN UF THE [Book \ if. defended by more numerous garrisons. At the same time, the procuring subsistence for his army was attended with great difficulty, which in- creased in proportion as he withdrew farther from his own frontier. He bad lost a great number of his best troops in the siege of St. Disier, and many fell daily in skirmishes, which it was not in his power to avoid, though they wasted his army insensibly, without leading to any decisive action. The season advanced apace, and he had not yet the command either of a sufficient extent of territory, or of any such considerable town as rendered it safe to winter in the enemy's country. Great arrears, too, were now due to his soldiers, who were upon the point of mutinying for their pay, while he knew not from what funds to satisfy them. All these considerations induced him to listen to the overtures of peace, which a Spanish Dominican, the confessor of his sister, the queen of France, had secretly made to his confessor, a monk of the same order. In conse- quence of this, plenipotentiaries were named on both sides, and began their conferences in Chause, a small village near Chalons. At the same time, Charles, either from a desire of making one great final effort against France, or merely to gain a pretext for deserting his ally, and concluding a separate peace, sent an ambassador formally to require Henry, accord- ing to the stipulation in their treaty, to advance towards Paris. While he expected a return from him, and waited the issue of the conferences at Chause, he continued to march forward, though in the utmost distress from scarcity of provisions. But at last, by a fortunate motion on his part, or through some neglect or treachery on that of the French* he sur- prised first Esperney, and then Chateau Thierry, in both of Which were considerable magazines. No sooner was it known that these towns, the latter of which is not two days march from Paris, were in the hands of the enemy, than that great capital, defenceless, and susceptible of any violent alarm in proportion to its greatness, was filled with consternation. The inhabitants, as if the emperor had been already at their gates, fled in the wildest confusion and despair, many sending their wives and children down the Seine to Rouen, others to Orleans, and the towns upon the Loire. Francis himself, more afflicted with this than with any other event during his reign, and sensible as well of the triumph that his rival would enjoy in insulting his capital, as of the danger to which the king- dom was exposed, could not refrain from crying out, in the first emotion of his surprise and sorrow, " How dear, O my God, do I pay for this crown, which I thought thou hadst granted me freely !"* But recovering in a moment from this sudden sally of peevishness and impatience, he devoutly added, " Thy will, however, be done ;" and proceeded to issue the necessary orders for opposing the enemy with his usual activity and presence of mind. The dauphin detached eight thousand men to Paris, which revived the courage of the affrighted citizens ; he threw a strong garrison into Meaux, and, by a forced march, got into Ferte, between the Imperialists and the capital. Upon this, the emperor, who began again to feel the want of provisions, perceiving that the dauphin still prudently declined a battle, and not daring to attack his camp with forces so much shattered and reduced by bard service, turned suddenly to the right, and began to fall back towards Soissons. Having about this time received Henry's answer, whereby he refused to abandon the sieges of Boulogne and Montreuil, of both which he expected every moment to get possession, he thought himself absolved from all obligations of adhering to the treaty with him, and at full liberty 1o consult his own interest in what manner soever he pleased. He con- sented, therefore, to renew the conference, which the surprise of Esper- neyhad broken off. To conclude a peace between two princes, one oi ■ Brantoiue torn, ri 381. EMPEROK CHARLES \. 319 whom greatly desired, and the other greatly needed it, did not require a long negotiation. It was signed at Crespy, a small town near Meaux, on the eighteenth of September. The chief articles of it were, that all the conquests which either party had made since the truce of Nice shall be restored : that the emperor shall give in marriage to the Duke of Orleans, either his own eldest daughter, or the second daughter of his brother Ferdinand ; that if he choose to bestow on him his own daughter, he shall settle on her all the provinces of the Low-Countries, to be erected into an independent state, which shall descend to the male issue of the marriage ; that if he determine to give him his niece, he shall, with her, grant him the investiture of Milan and its dependencies ; that he shall within four months declare which of these two princesses he had pitched upon, and fulfil the respective conditions upon the consummation of the marriage, which shall take place within a year from the date of the treaty ; that a.s soon as the duke of Orleans is put in possession either of the Low-Coun- tries or of Milan, Francis shall restore to the duke of Savoy all that he now possesses of his territories, except Pignerol and Montmilian ; that Francis shall renounce all pretensions to the kingdom of Naples, or to the sovereignty of Flanders and Artois, and Charles shall give up his claim to the dutchy of Burgundy and county of Charolois ; that Francis shall give no aid to the exiled king of Navarre ; that both monarchs shall join in making war upon the Turks, towards which the king shall furnish, when required. by the emperor and empire, six hundred men at arms, and ten thousand foot.* Besides the immediate motives to this peace, arising from the distress of his army through want of provisions ; from the difficulty of retreating out of France, and the impossibility of securing winter quarters there ; the emperor was influenced, by other considerations, more distant indeed, but not less weighty. The pope was offended to a great degree, as well at his concessions to the protestants in the late diet, as at his consenting to call a council, and to admit of public disputations in Germany, with a view of determining the doctrines in controversy. Paul considering both these steps as sacrilegious encroachments on the jurisdiction as well as privileges of the holy see, had addressed to the emperor a remonstrance rather than a letter on this subject, written with such acrimony of language, and in a style of such high authority, as discovered more of an intention to draw on a quarrel, than of a desire to reclaim him. This ill humour was not a little inflamed by the emperor's league with Henry of England, which, being contracted with a heretic excommunicated by the apostolic see, appeared to the pope a profane alliance, and was not less dreaded by him than that of Francis with Solyman. Paul's son and grandson, highly incensed at the emperor for having refused to gratify them with regard to the alienation of Parma and Placentia, contributed by their suggestions to sour and disgust him still more. To all which was added the powerful operation of the flattery and promises which Francis incessantly employed to gain him. Though from his desire of maintaining a neutrality, the pope had hitherto suppressed his own resentment, had eluded the artifices of his own family, and resisted the solicitations of the French king, it was not safe to rely much on the steadiness of a man whom his passions, his friends, and his interest combined to shake. The union of the pope with France, Charles well knew, would instantly expose his dominions in Italy to be attacked. The Venetians, he foresaw, would probably follow the example of a pontiff, who was considered as a model of political wisdom among the Italian; ; and thus, at a juncture when he felt himself hardly equal to the burden of the present war, he would be overwhelmed with (he weight of a new con- federacy against him.t At the same time, the Turks, almost unresisted, * Recueil des Traitor., 1. 1. 387. Bcliii" rtc Onn--w Paris Crepiac. in \cIisErudit Lips. 1763 1 F.l'aul. 100. Pallavir lfi? 320 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VII. made such progress in Hungary, reducing town after town, that they approached near to the confines of the Austrian provinces.* Above all these, the extraordinary progress of the protestant doctrines in Germany, and the dangerous combination into which the princes of that profession had entered, called for his immediate attention. Almost one half of Ger- many had revolted from the established church ; the fidelity of the rest was much shaken; the nobility of Austria had demanded of Ferdinand the free exercise of religion ;| the Bohemians, among whom some seeds of the doc- trines of Huss still remained, openly favoured the new opinions ; the arch- bishop of Cologne, with a zeal which is seldom found among ecclesiastics, had begun the reformation of his diocess ; nor was it possible unless some timely and effectual check were given to the spirit of innovation, to foresee where it would end. He himself had been a witness, in the late diet, to the peremptory and decisive tone which the protestants had now assumed. He had seen how, from confidence in their number and union, they had for- gotten the humble style of their first petitions, and had grown to such bold- ness as openly to despise the pope, and to show no great reverence for the Imperial dignity itself. If, therefore, he wished to maintain either the ancient religion or his own authority, and would not choose to dwindle into a mere nominal head of the empire, some vigorous and speedy effort was requisite on his part, which could not be made during a war that required the greatest exertion of his strength against a foreign and powerful enemy. Such being the emperor's inducements to peace, he had the address to frame the treaty of Crespy so as to promote all the ends which he had in view. By coming to an agreement with Francis, he took from the pope all prospect of advantage in courting the friendship of that monarch in preference to his. By the proviso with regard to a war with the Turks, he not only deprived Solyman of a powerful ally, but turned the arms of that ally against him. By a private article, not inserted in the treaty, that it might not raise any unseasonable alarm, he agreed with Francis that both should exert all their influence and power in order to procure a general council, to assert its authority, and to exterminate the protestant heresy out of their dominions. This cut off all chance of assistance which the confederates of Smalkalde might expect from the French king ;| and lest their solicitations, or his jealousy of an ancient rival, should hereafter tempt Francis to forget this engagement, he left him embarrassed with a war against England, which would put it out of his power to take any consider- able part in the affairs of Germany. Henry, possessed at all times with a high idea of his own power and importance, felt, in the most sensible manner, the neglect with which the emperor had treated him in concluding a separate peace. But the situation of his affairs was such as somewhat alleviated the mortification which this occasioned. For though he was obliged to recall the duke of Norfolk from the siege of MontreuiT [Sept. 14], because the Flemish troops received orders to retire, Boulogne had surrendered before the negotiations at Crespy were brought to an issue. While elated with vanity on account of this conquest, and inflamed with indignation against the emperor, the ambassa- dors whom Francis sent to make overtures of peace, found him too arrogant to grant what was moderate or equitable. His demands were indeed extravagant, and made in the tone of a conqueror; that Francis should renounce his alliance with Scotland, and not only pay up the arrears of former debts, but reimburse the money which Henry had expended in the present war.§ Francis, though sincerely desirous of peace, and willing to yield a great deal in order to obtain it, being now free from the pressure of the Imperial arms, rejected these ignominious propositions with disdain ; * Istuanhaffii Hist. Hung. 177. * Slcid. 285. J Scck.l. iii. 4%. . 326 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VII. being joined by his son-in-law, Maurice, and by some troops belonging- to the elector of Saxony, he gained such advantages over Henry, who was rash and bold in forming his schemes, but feeble and undetermined in exe- cuting them, as obliged him to disband his army, and to surrender himself, together with his eldest son, prisoners at discretion. He was kept in close confinement, until a new reverse of affairs procured him liberty.* As this defeat of Henry's wild enterprise added new reputation to the arms of the protestants, the establishment of the protestant religion in the palatinate brought a great accession of strength to their party. Frederick, who succeeded his brother Lewis in that electorate, had long been sus- pected of a secret propensity to the doctrines of the reformers, which, upon his accession to the principality, he openly manifested. But as he expected that something effectual towards a general and legal establish- ment of religion, would be the fruit of so many diets, conferences, and negotiations, he did not, at first, attempt any public innovation in his do- minions. Finding all these issue in nothing, he thought himself called, at length [Jan. 10, 1546], to countenance by his authority the system which he approved of, and to gratify the wishes of his subjects, who, by their intercourse with the protestant states, had almost universally imbibed their opinions. As the warmth and impetuosity, which accompanied the spirit of reformation in its first efforts, had somewhat abated, this change was made with great order and regularity ; the ancient rites were abolished, and new forms introduced, without any acts of violence, or symptom of discontent. Though Frederick adopted the religious system of the pro- testants, he imitated the example of Maurice, and did not accede to the league of Smalkalde.f A few weeks before this revolution in the palatinate, the general coun- cil was opened with the accustomed solemnities at Trent. The eyes of the catholic states were turned with much expectation towards an assem- bly, which all had considered as capable of applying an effectual remedy for the disorders of the church when they first broke out, though many were afraid that it was now too late to hope for great benefit from it, when the malady, by being suffered to increase during twenty-eight years, had become inveterate, and grown to such extreme violence. The pope, by his last bull of convocation, had appointed the first meeting to be held in March. But his views and those of the emperor were so different, that almost the whole year was spent in negotiations. Charles, who fore- saw that the -rigorous decrees of the council against the protestants would soon drive them, in self-defence as well as from resentment, to some des- perate extreme, laboured to put off its meeting until his warlike prepara tions were so far advanced, that he might be in a condition to second its decisions by the force of his arms. The pope, who had early sent to Trent the legates who were to preside in his name, knowing to Avhat con- tempt it would expose his authority, and what suspicions it would beget of his intentions, if the fathers of the council should remain in a state of inactivity, when the church was in such danger as to require their imme- diate and vigorous interposition, insisted either upon translating the coun- cil to some city in Italy, or upon suspending altogether its proceedings at that juncture, or upon authorizing it to begin its deliberations immediately. The emperor rejected the two former expedients as equally offensive to the Germans of every denomination ; but finding it impossible to elude the latter, he proposed that the council should begin with reforming the disorders in the church, before it proceeded to examine or define articles of faith. This was the very thing which the court of Rome dreaded most, and which had prompted it to employ so many artifices in order to prevent the meeting of such a dangerous judicatory. Paul, though more * Sleid. 352. Set*. 1. iii. 5S7. t Sleid. 350. Heck. ! iii. 616. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 32T compliant than some of his predecessors with regard to calling a council, was no less jealous than they had heen of its jurisdiction, and saw what matter of triumph such a method of proceeding would afford the heretics. He apprehended consequences not only humbling but fatal to the papal see, if the council came to consider an inquest into abuses as their only business ; or if inferior prelates were allowed to gratify their own envy and peevishness, by prescribing rules to those who are exalted above them in dignity and power. Without listening, therefore, to this insidious proposal ot the emperor, he instructed his legates to open the council. Jan. 18.] The first session was spent in matters of form. In a subse- quent one, it was agreed that the framing a confession of faith, wherein should be contained all the articles which the church required its mem- bers to believe, ought to be the first and principal business of the council : but that, at the same time, due attention should be given to what was necessary towards the reformation of manners and discipline. From this first symptom of the spirit with which the council was animated, from the high tone of authority which the legates who presided in it assumed, and from the implicit deference with which most of the members followed their directions, the protestants conjectured with ease what decisions they might expect. It astonished them, however, to see forty prelates (for no greater number were yet assembled) assume authority as representatives of the universal church, and proceed to determine the most important points of doctrine in its name. Sensible of this indecency, as well as ot" the ridicule with which it might be attended, the council advanced slowly in its deliberations, and all its proceedings were for some time languishing and feeble.* As soon as the confederates of Smaikalde received infor- mation of the opening of the council, they published a long manifesto, containing a renewal of their protest against its meeting, together with the reasons which induced them to decline its jurisdictions.! The pope and emperor, on their part, were so little solicitous to quicken or add vigour to its operations, as plainly discovered that some object of greater import- ance occupied and interested them. The protestants were not inattentive or unconcerned spectators of the motions of the sovereign pontiff and of Charles, and they entertained every day more violent suspicions of their intentions, in consequence of intelligence received from different quarters of the machinations carrying on against them. The king of England informed them, that the emperor, having long resolved to exterminate their opinions, would not fail to employ this interval of tranquillity which he now enjoyed, as the most favourable juncture for carrying his design into execution. The merchants of Augs- burg, which was at that time a city of extensive trade, received advice, try means of their correspondents in Italy, among whom were some who secretly favoured the protestant cause,J that a dangerous confederacy against it was forming between the pope and emperor. In confirmation of this they heard from the Low-Countries, that Charles had issued orders, though with every precaution which could keep the measure concealed, for raising troops both there and in other parts of his dominions. Such a variety of information, and corroborating all that their own jealousy or observation led them to apprehend, left the protestants little reason to doubt of the emperor's hostile intentions. Under this impression, the deputies of the confederates of Smaikalde assembled at Frankfort, and by commu- nicating their intelligence and sentiments to each other, reciprocally heightened their sense of the impending danger. But their union was not such as their situation required, or the preparations of their enemies ren- dered necessary. Their league had now subsisted ten years. Among so many members, whose territories were intermingled with each other, and * F. Paul. J20. &c. Pallaric. r>. IPO. fee * BeekemL 1. lit. f)02. Sir. J TbM. 57?. 328 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VII. who, according to the custom of Germany, had created an infinite variety of mutual rights and claims by intermarriages, alliances, and contracts of different kinds, subjects of jealousy and discord had unavoidably arisen. Some of the confederates, being connected with the duke of Brunswick, were highly disgusted with the landgrave, on account of the rigour with which he had treated that rash and unfortunate prince. Others taxed the elector of Saxony and landgrave, the heads of the league, with having involved the members in unnecessary and exorbitant expenses by their profuseness or want of economy. 1 he views, likewise, and temper of those two princes, who by their superior power and authority, influenced and directed the whole body, being extremely different, rendered all its motions languid, at a time when the utmost vigour and despatch were requisite. The landgrave, of a violent and enterprising temper, but not forgetful, amidst his zeal for religion, of the usual maxims of human policy, insisted that as the danger which threatened them was manifest and una- voidable, they should have recourse to the most effectual expedient for securing their own safety, by courting the protection of the kings of France and England, or by joining in alliance with the protestant cantons of Swit- zerland, from whom they might expect such powerful and present assist- ance as their situation demanded. The elector on the other hand, with the most upright intentions of any prince in that age, and with talents which might have qualified him abundantly for the administration of government in any tranquil period, was possessed with such superstitious veneration for all the parts of the Lutheran system, and such bigotten attachment to all its tenets, as made him averse to a union with those who differed from him in any article of faith, and rendered him very incapable of undertaking its defence in times of difficulty and danger. He seemed to think, that the concerns of religion were to be regulated by principles and maxims totally different from those which apply to the common affairs of life ; and being swayed too much by the opinions of Luther, who was not only a stranger to the rules of political conduct, but despised them ; he often discovered an uncomplying spirit, that proved of the greatest detriment Jo the cause which he wished to support. Influenced, on this occasion, by the severe and rigid notions of that reformer, he refused to enter into any confederacy with Francis, because he was a persecutor of the truth ; or to solicit the friendship of Henry, because he was no less impious and profane than the pope himself ; or even to join in alliance with the Swiss, because they differed from the Germans in several essential articles of faith. This dissension, about a point of such consequence, pro- duced its natural effects. Each secretly censured and reproached the other. The landgrave considered the elector as fettered by narrow pre- judices, unworthy of a prince called to act a chief part in a scene of such importance. The elector suspected the landgrave of loose principles and ambitious views, which corresponded ill with the sacred cause wherein they were engaged. But though the elector's scruples prevented their timely application for foreign aid ; and the jealousy or discontent of the other princes defeated a proposal for renewing their original confederacy, the term during which it was to continue in iorce being on the point of expiring ; yet the sense of their common danger induced them to agree with regard to other points, particularly that they would never acknow- ledge the assembly at Trent as a lawful council, nor suffer the archbishop of Cologne to be oppressed on account of the steps which he had taken towards the reformation of his diocess.* The landgrave, about this time, desirous of penetrating to the bottom oi the emperor's intentions, wrote to Granvelle, whom he knew to be tho- roughly acquainted with all his masters schemes, informing him of the * Seek. 1. iii. 5CC. 570. 613. Sleid. aS5. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 329 several particulars which raised the suspicions of the protestants, and beg- ging an explicit declaration of what they had to fear or to hope. Gran- velle, in return, assured them, that the intelligence which they had received of the emperor's military preparations was exaggerated, and all their sus- picions destitute of foundation ; that though, in order to guard his frontiers against any insult of the French or English, he had commanded a small body of men to be raised in the Low-Countries, he was as solicitous as ever to maintain tranquillity in Germany.* But the emperor's actions did not correspond with these professions of his minister. For instead of appointing men of known moderation and a pacific temper to appear in detence of the catholic doctrines at the con- ference which had been agreed on, he made choice of fierce bigots, attached to their own system with a blind obstinacy, that rendered all hope of a reconcilement desperate. Malvenda, a Spanish divine, who took upon him the conduct of the debate on the part of the catholics, managed it with all the subtle dexterity of a scholastic metaphysician, more studious to perplex his adversaries than to convince them, and more intent on pal- liating error than on discovering truth. The protestants, filled with indig- nation, as well at his sophistry as at some regulations which the emperor endeavoured to impose on the disputants, broke off the conference abruptly, being now fully convinced that, in all his late measures, the emperor could have no other view than to amuse them, and to gain time for ripening his own schemes.! BOOK VIII. While appearances of danger daily increased, and the tempest which had been so long a gathering was ready to break forth in all its violence against the protestant church, Luther was saved, by a seasonable death, from feeling or beholding its destructive rage. Having gone, though in a declining state of health, and during a rigorous season, to his native city of Eysleben, in order to compose, by his authority, a dissension among the counts of Mansfield, he was seized with a violent inflammation in his stomach, which in a few days put an end to his life, in the sixty-third year of his age [Feb. 18]. As he was raised up by Providence to be the author of one of the greatest and most interesting revolutions recorded in history, there is not any person perhaps whose character has been drawn with such opposite colours. In his own age, one party, struck with horror and inflamed with rage, when they saw with what a daring hand he overturned every thing which they held to be sacred, or valued as beneficial, imputed to him not only all the defects and vices of a man, but the qualities of a demon. The other, warmed with the admiration and gratitude, which they thought he merited as the restorer of light and liberty to the Christian church, ascribed to him perfections above the condition of humanity, and viewed all his actions with a veneration bordering on that which should be paid only to those who are guided by the immediate inspiration of Heaven. It is his own conduct, not the undistinguishing censure or the exaggerated praise of his contemporaries, that ought to regulate the opinions of the present age con- cerning him. Zeal for what he regarded as truth, undaunted intrepidity to maintain his own system, abilities, both natural and acquired, to defend * Sleid. X,K. * Ibid. 35P. Fork. I. iji. 650. Vol.. II.— 42 330 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VI if. his principles, and unwearied industry in propagating them, are virtues which shine so conspicuously in every part of his behaviour, that even his enemies must allow him to have possessed them in an eminent degree. To these may be added, with equal justice, such purity and even austerity of manners, as became one who assumed the character of a Reformer ; such sanctity of life as suited the doctrine which he delivered ; and such per- fect disinterestedness as affords no slight presumption of his sincerity. Superior to all selfish considerations, a stranger to the elegancies of life, and despising its pleasures, he left the honours and emoluments of the church to his disciples, remaining satisfied himself in his original state of professor in the university, and pastor of the town of Wittemberg, with the moderate appointments annexed to these offices. His extraordinary qualities were allayed with no inconsiderable mixture of human frailty and human pas- sions. These, however, were of such a nature, that they cannot be imputed to malevolence or corruption of heart, but seem to have taken their rise from the same source with many of his virtues. His mind, forcible and vehement in all its operations, roused by great objects, or agitated by violent passions, broke out, on many occasions, with an impetuosity which astonishes men of feebler spirits, or such as are placed in a more tranquil situation. By carrying some praiseworthy dispositions to excess, he bordered sometimes on what was culpable, and was often betrayed into actions which exposed him to censure. His confidence that his own opinions were well-founded, approached to arrogance ; his courage in asserting them, to rashness ; his firmness in adhering to them, to obstinacy ; and his zeal in confuting his adversaries, to rage and scurrility. Accus- tomed himself to consider every thing as subordinate to truth, he expected the same deference for it from other men ; and without making any allowances for their timidity or prejudices, he poured forth against such as disappointed him in this particular, a torrent of invective mingled with contempt. Regardless of any distinction of rank or character when his doctrines were attacked, he chastised all his adversaries indiscriminately, with the same rough hand ; neither the royal dignity of Henry VIII. nor the eminent learning and abilities of Erasmus, screened them from the same gross abuse with which he treated Tetzel or Eccius. But these indecencies of which Luther was guilty, must not be imputed wholly to the violence of his temper. They ought to be charged in part on the manners of the age. Among a rude people, unacquainted with those maxims, which, by putting continual restraint on the passions of in- dividuals, have polished society, and rendered it agreeable, disputes of every kind were managed with heat, and strong emotions were uttered in their natural language without reserve or delicacy. At the same time, the works of learned men were all composed in Latin, and they were not only authorized, by the example of eminent writers in that language, to use their antagonists with the most illiberal scurrility ; but, in a dead tongue, indecencies of every kind appear less shocking than in a living language, whose idioms and phrases seem gross, because they are familiar. In passing judgment upon the characters of men, we ought to try them by the principles and maxims of their own age, not by those of another. For although virtue and vice are at all times the same, manners and cus- toms vary continually. Some parts of Luther's behaviour, which appear to us most culpable, gave no disgust to his contemporaries. It was even by some of those qualities, which we are now apt to blame, that he was fitted for accomplishing the great work which he undertook. To rouse mankind, when sunk in ignorance or superstition, and to encounter the rage of bigotry armed with power, required the utmost vehemence ot zeal, as well as a temper daring to excess. A gentle call would neither have reached, nor have excited those to whom it was addressed. A spirit, more amiable, but less vigorous than Luther's, would have shrunk EMPEROR CHARLES V. 331 back from the dangers which he braved and surmounted. Towards the close of Luther's lite, though without any perceptible diminution of his zeal or abilities, the infirmities of his temper increased upon him, so that he grew daily more peevish, more irascible, and more impatient of con- tradiction. Having lived to be a witness of his own amazing success, to see a great part of Europe embrace his doctrines ; and to shake the foundation of the papal throne, before which the mightiest monarchs had trembled, he discovered, on some occasions, symptoms of vanity and self- applause. He must have been, indeed, more than man, if, upon contem- plating all that he actually accomplished, he had never felt any sentiment of this kind rising in his breast.* Some time beiore his death he felt his strength declining, his constitu- tion being worn out by a prodigious multiplicity ot business, added to the labour of discharging his ministerial functions with unremitting dili- gence, to the fatigue of constant study, besides the composition of works as voluminous as if he had enjoyed uninterrupted leisure and retirement. His natural intrepidity did not forsake him at the approach of death ; his last conversation with his friends was concerning the happiness reserved for good men in a future life, of which he spoke with the fervour and delight natural to one who expected and wished to enter soon upon the enjoyment of it.t The account of his death filled the Roman catholic party with excessive as well as indecent joy, and damped the spirits of all his followers ; neither party sufficiently considering that his doctrines were now so firmly rooted, as to be in a condition to flourish independent of the hand which had first planted them. His funeral was celebrated by order of the elector of Saxony with extraordinary pomp. He left several children by his wife, Catharine a Boria, who survived him. Towards the end of the last century, there were in Saxony some of his descendants in decent and honourable stations.^ The emperor, meanwhile, pursued the plan of dissimulation with which he had set "out, employing every art to amuse the protestants, and to quiet their fears and jealousies. For this purpose he contrived to have an interview with the landgrave of Hesse, the most active of all the con- federates, and the most suspicious of his designs. To him he made such warm professions of his concern for the happiness of Germany, and of his aversion to all violent measures ; he denied, in such express terms, his having entered into any league, or having begun any military preparations which should give any just cause of alarm to the protestants, as seem to have dispelled all the landgrave's doubts and apprehensions, and sent him away fully satisfied of his pacific intentions. This artifice was of great advantage, and effectually answered the purpose for which it was employed. The landgrave, upon his leaving Spires, where he had been admitted to this interview, went to Worms, where the Smalkaldic con- federates were assembled, and gave them such a flattering representation of the emperor's favourable disposition towards them, that they, who were too apt, as well from the temper of the German nation, as from the genius of all great associations or bodies of men, to be slow, and dilatory, and undecisive in their deliberations, thought there was no necessity oi taking any immediate measures against danger, which appeared to be distant or imaginary .§ * A remarkable instance of this, as well as of a certain singularity and elevation of sentiment, ia found in bit Last Will. Though the effects which he had to bequeath were very inconsiderable, he thought it necessary to make a Testament, but scorned to frame it with the usual legal formali- ties. Notue sum, says he, in coelo, in terra, et inferno, et auctoritatcm ad hoc sulhcientem habeo, ut milii soli credatur, cum Deus mihi, homini licet damnabili, et miserabili peccatori, ex paterna misericordia Evangelium filii eui crediderit, dederitque ut in eo verai et fidelis fueriin, ita ut mulli in mundo illud per me acceperint, et me pro Doctore verilatis agnoverint, spreto banno papa>, Cassaris, regum, principum et sacerdotum, immo omnium da>monum odio. Uuidni, igilur, ad dis- positionem hanc, in re exigua, sufliciat, si adsit manus me* testimonium, et did possit, mec scrlpsit D. Martinus Luther, Notarius Dei, et testis Evangelii ejus. Sec. 1. hi. p. 651. T Sleid. 362. Seek. lib. iii. 632, Ice. t Seek. lib. iii. 651. . .ht V,,r. [{.— 43 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VIII dates ; and among them the emissaries of the pope and emperor had such influence, that a resolution of maintaining an exact neutrality between the contending parties was the utmost which could be procured.* Being disappointed in both these applications, the protestants, not long after, had recourse to the kings of France and England ; the approach of danger either overcoming the elector of Saxony's scruples, or obliging him to yield to the importunities of his associates. The situation of the two monarchs flattered them with hopes of success. Though hostilities between them had continued for some time after the peace of Crespy, they became weary at last of a war, attended with no glory or advantage to either, and had lately terminated all their differences by a peace concluded at Campe near Ardres. Francis having with great difficulty procured his allies, the Scots, to be included in the treaty, in return tor that concession he engaged to pay a great sum which Henry demanded as due to him on several accounts, and he left Boulogne in the hands of the English as a pledge for his faithful performance of that article. But though the re-establishment of peace seemed to leave the two monarchs at liberty to turn their atten- tion towards Germany, so unfortunate were the protestants, that they derived no immediate advantage from this circumstance. Henry appeared unwilling to enter into any alliance with them, but on such conditions as would render him not only the head, but the supreme director of their league ; a pre-eminence which, as the bonds of union or interest between them were but feeble, and as he differed from them so widely in his reli- gious sentiments, they had no inclination to admit. t Francis, more power- fully inclined by political considerations to afford them assistance, found his kingdom so much exhausted by a long war, and was so much afraid of irritating the pope, by entering into close union with excommunicated heretics, that he durst not undertake the protection of the Smalkaldic league. By this ill-timed caution, or by a superstitious deference to scruples, to which at other times he was not much addicted, he lost the most promising opportunity of mortifying and distressing his rival, which pre- sented itself during his whole reign. But, notwithstanding their ill success in their negotiations with foreign courts, the confederates found no difficulty at home, in bringing a sufficient force into the field. Germany abounded at that time with inhabitants ; the feudal institutions, which subsisted in full force, enabled the nobles to call out their numerous vassals, and to put them in motion on the shortest warning ; the martial spirit of the Germans, not broken or enervated by the introduction of commerce and arts, had acquired additional vigour during the continual wars in which they had been employed, for half a century, either in the pay of the emperors or the kings of I ranee. Upon every op- portunity of entering into service, they were accustomed to run eagerly to arms ; and to every standard that was erected, volunteers flocked from all quarters.J Zeal seconded, on this occasion, their native ardour. Men on whom the doctrines of the reformation had made that deep impression which accompanies truth when first discovered, prepared to maintain it with proportional vigour ; and among a warlike people it appeared infa- mous to remain inactive, when the defence of religion was the motive for taking arms. Accident combined with all these circumstances in facili- tating the levy of soldiers among the confederates. A considerable number of Germans in the pay of France, being dismissed by the king on the pros- pect of peace with England, joined in a body the standard of the pro- testants. J By such a concurrence of causes, they were enabled to assemble in a few weeks an army composed of seventy thousand foot and fifteen thousand horse, provided with a train of a hundred and twenty cannon, fight hundred ammunition wagons, eight thousand beasts of burden, and * Sleid. 802. \ Eynier. xv. 93. Her^rt. 858. i Secfc. 1. iii. 101 EMPEROR CHARLES V 339 sis thousand pioneers.* This army, one of the most numerous, and un- doubtedly the best appointed, of any which had been levied in Europe during that century, did not require Ihe united effort of the whole protestant body to raise it. The elector of Saxony, the landgrave of Hesse, the duke of YVurtemberg, the princes of Auhalt, and the Imperial cities of Augsburg, Ulm, and Strasburg, wrere the only powers which contributed towards this great armament : the electors of Cologne, of Brandenburg, and the count Palatine, overawed by the emperor's threats, or deceived by his professions, remained neuter. John marquis of Brandenburg Bareith, and Albert of Brandenburg Anspach, though both early converts) to Lutheranism, entered openly into the emperor's service, under pretext of having^ obtained his promise for the security of the protestant religion ; and Maurice of Saxony soon followed their example. The number of their troops, as well as the amazing rapidity wherewith they had assembled them, astonished the emperor, and filled him with the most disquieting apprehensions. He was, indeed, in no condition to resist such a mighty force. Shut up in Ratisbon, a town of no great strength, whose inhabitants, being mostly Lutherans, would have been more ready to betray than to assist him, with only three thousand Spanish foot, who had served in Hungary, and about five thousand Germans who had joined him from different parts of the empire, he must have been overwhelmed by the approach of such a formidable army, which he could not fight, nor could he even hope to retreat from it in safety. The pope's troops, though in full march to his relief, had hardly reached the frontiers of German}' ; the forces which he expected from the Low-Countries had not yet begun to move, and were even far from being complete.! His situation, however, called for more immediate succour, nor did it seem practicable for him to wait for such distant auxiliaries, with whom his junction was so precarious. But it happened fortunately for Charles, that the confederates did not avail themselves of the advantage which lay so full in their view. In civil wars, the first steps are commonly taken with much timidity and hesitation. Men are solicitous, at that time, to put on the semblance of moderation and equity ; they strive to gain partisans by seeming to adhere strictly to known forms ; nor can they be brought, at once, to violate those established institutions, which in times of tranquillity they have been accustomed to reverence ; hence their proceedings are often feeble or dilatory, when they ought to be most vigorous and decisive. Influenced by those considera- tions, which, happily for the peace of society, operate powerfully on the human mind, the confederates could not think of throwing off that allegiance which they owed to the head of the empire, or of turning their arms against him without one solemn appeal more to his candour, and to the impartial judgment of their fellow-subjects. For this purpose, they addressed a letter to the emperor [July 15], and a manifesto to all the inhabitants of Germany. The tenor of both was the same. They represented their own conduct with regard to civil affairs as dutiful and submissive ; they men- tioned the inviolable union in which they had lived with the emperor, as well as the many and recent marks of his good-will and gratitude where- withal they had been honoured ; they asserted religion to be the sole cause oi the violence which the emperor now meditated against them ; and in proof of this produced many arguments to convince those who were so weak as to be deceived by those artifices with which he endeavoured to cover his real intentions; they declared their own resolution to risk every thing in maintenance of their religious rights, and foretold the dissolution of the German constitution, if the emperor should finally prevail against them. J * Thuan. 1. i. 601. Ludovici ab Avila et Zuniga Corumciuariorum de Bel. Germ. lib. duo, Antvr. 1360, 12mo. r>. 13, a. fSleid.389. Avila, 8, fr. } Sleid. 384. J40 T H E R E 1 G N O F T H E [Book V 111. Charles, though in such a perilous situation as might have inspired hini with moderate sentiments, appeared as inflexible and haughty as it his affairs had been in the most prosperous state. His only reply to the address and manifesto of the protestants, was to publish the ban of the empire [July 20], against the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse, their leaders, and against all who should dare to assist them. By this sentence, the ultimate and most rigorous one which the German jurisprudence. has pro- vided for the punishment of traitors, or enemies to their country, they were declared rebels and outlaws, and deprived of every privilege which they enjoyed as members of the Germanic body; their goods were confiscated ; their subjects absolved from their oath of allegiance ; and it became not only lawful but meritorious to invade their territories. The nobles, and free cities, who framed or perfected the constitution of the German govern- ment, had not been so negligent of their own salety and privileges as to trust the emperor with this formidable jurisdiction. The authority of a diet of the empire ought to have been interposed before any of its members could be put under the ban. But Charles overlooked that formality, weli knowing that, if his arms were crowned with success, there would remain none who would have either power or courage to call in question what ho had done.* The emperor, however, did not found his sentence against the elector and landgrave on their revolt from the established church, or their conduct with regard to religion ; he affected to assign for it reasons purely civil, and those too expressed in such general and ambiguous terms, without specifying the nature or circumstances of their guilt, as rendered it more like an act of despotic power than of a legal and limited jurisdiction. Nov was it altogether from choice, or to conceal his intentions, that Charles had recourse to the ambiguity of general expressions ; but he durst not mention too particularly the causes of his sentence, as every action which he could have charged upon the elector and landgrave as a crime, might have been employed with equal justice to condemn many of the protestants whom he still pretended to consider as faithful subjects, and whom it would have been extremely imprudent to alarm or disgust. The confederates, now perceiving all hopes of accommodation to be at nn end, had only to choose whether they would submit without reserve to the emperor's will, or proceed to open hostilities. They were not desti- tute either of public spirit, or of resolution to make the proper choice. A few days after the ban of the empire was published, they, according to the custom of that age, sent a herald to the Imperial camp, with a solemn declaration of war against Charles, to whom they no longer gave any other title than that of pretended emperor, and renounced all allegiance, homage, or duty which he might claim, or which they had hitherto yielded to him. But previous to this formality, part of their troops had begun to act. The command of a considerable body of men raised by the city of Augsburg having been given to Sebastian Schertel, a soldier of fortune, who, by the booty that he had got when the Imperialists plundered Rome, together w ilh the merit of long service, bad acquired wealth and authority which placed him on a level with the chief of the German nobles : that gallant veteran resolved, before he joined the main body of the confederates, to attempt something suitable to his former fame, and to the expectation of bis countrymen. As the pope's forces were hastening towards Tyrol, in order to penetrate into Germany by the narrow passes through the moun- tains which run across that country, he advanced thither with the utmost rapidity, and seized Ehrenberg and Cuffstein, two strong castles which commanded the principal defiles. Without stopping a moment, he con- tinued his march towards Inspruck, by getting possession of which hi would have obliged the Italians to stop short, and with a small body of "'396. Pu Mont Corps Diplom.iv.n .11.314. Pfeffel Hist Afaregddu Droit FuH EMPEROR CHARLES V. 341 men could have resisted all the efforts of the greatest armies. Castlealto, the governor of Trent, knowing what a fatal blow this would be to the emperor, all whose designs must have proved abortive if his Italian aux- iliaries had been intercepted, raised a few troops with the utmost despatch, and threw himself into the town. Schertel, however, did not ahandon the enterprise, and was preparing to attack the place, when the intelligence of the approach of the Italians, and an order from the elector and land- grave, obliged him to desist. By his retreat the passes were left open, and the Italians entered Germany without any opposition, but from the gar- risons which Schertel had placed in Ehrenberg and Cuffstein, and these, having no hopes of being relieved, surrendered, after a short resistance.* Nor was the recalling of Schertel the only error of which the confede- rates were guilty. As the supreme command of their army was committed, in terms of the league of Smalkalde, to the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse with equal power, all the inconveniences arising from a divided and co-ordinate authority, which is always of fatal consequence in the operations of war, were immediately felt. The elector, though intrepid in his own person to excess, and most ardently zealous in the cause, was slow in deliberating, uncertain as well as irresolute in his determinations, and constantly preterred measures which were cautious and safe, to such as were bold or decisive. The landgrave, of a more active and enter- prising nature, formed ail his resolutions with promptitude, wished to execute them with spirit, and uniformly preferred such measures as tended to bring the contest to a speedy issue. Thus their maxims, with regard to the conduct of the war, differed as widely as those by which they were influenced in preparing for it. Such perpetual contrariety in their sentiments gave rise, imperceptibly, to jealousy and the spirit of contention. These multiplied the dissensions flowing from the incompatibility of their natural tempers, and rendered them more violent. The other members of the league considering themselves as independent, and subject to the elector and landgrave, only in consequence of the articles of a voluntary confederacy, did not long retain a proper veneration for commanders who proceeded with so little concord ; and the numerous army of the protes- tants, like a vast machine whose parts are ill compacted, and which is destitute of any power sufficient to move arid regulate the whole, acted with no consistency, vigour, or effect. The emperor, who was afraid that, by remaining at Ratisbon, he might render it impossible for the pope's forces to join him, having boldly advanced to Landshut on the Iser, the confederates lost some days in deliberating whether it was proper to follow him into the territories of the duke of Bavaria, a neutral prince. When at last they surmounted that scruple, and began to move towards his camp, they suddenly abandoned the design, and "hastened to attack Ratisbon, in which town Charles could leave only a small garrison. By this time the papal troops, amounting fully to that number which Paul had stipulated to furnish, had reached Landshut, and were soon followed by six thousand Spaniards of the veteran band stationed in Naples. The confederates, after Schertel's spirited but fruitless expedition, seem to have permitted these forces to advance unmo- lested to the place of rendezvous, without any attempt to attack either * Seckend. lib. ii. 70. Adriani Istoria d\ suoi Tempi, lib. 3115. Seckendorf, the industrious author of the Commentarius Apoioceticu* de Lutueranismo, whom I have so long and safely fol. lowed as my guide in German affairs, was a descendant from Schertel With the care and solici- tude of a German, who was bimmlr'of noble birth, Seckendorf lias published a long digression concerning his ancestor, calculated chiefly to show how Schertel waa ennobled, and bis posterity allied to many of the most ancient families in the empire. Among other curious particulars, ho gives us an account of his wealth, tbe chief BOUrceof winch was (he plunder he got at Rome. His landed^state alone was sold by Mis grandsons for six hundred thousand florins, liy this we may form some idea of the riches amassed by the Condottieri, or commanders of mercenary bands in that aw. At the taking of Rome. Schertel was only a captain. Seckend. lib ii. 7:t. 342 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VTli. them or the emperor separately, or to prevent their junction.* The Impe- rial army amounted now to thirty-six thousand men, and was -till more formidable by the discipline and valour of the troops, than by their num- ber. Avila, a commendator of Alcantara, who had been present in all the wars carried on by Charles, and had served in the armies which gained the memorable victory at Pavia, which conquered Tunis, and invaded France, gives this the preference to any military force he had ever seen assembled.! Octavio Farnese, the pope's grandson, assisted by the ablest officers formed in.the long wars between Charles and Francis,commanded the Italian auxiliaries. His brother, the cardinal Farnese, accompanied him as a papal legate ; and in order to give the war the appearance of a religious enterprise, he proposed to march at the head of the army, with a cross carried before him, and to publish indulgences wherever he came. to all who should give them any assistance, as had anciently been the practice in the crusades against the infidels. But this the emperor strictly prohibited, as inconsistent with all the declarations which he had made to the Germans of his own party; and the legate perceiving, to his astonish- ment, that the exercise of the protestant religion, the extirpation of which he considered as the sole object of the war, was publicly permitted in the Imperial camp, soon returned in disgust to Italy. J The arrival of these troops enabled the emperor to send such a rein- forcement to the garrison at Ratisbon, that the confederates, relinquishing all hopes of reducing that town, marched towards Ingoldstadt on the Danube, near to which Charles was now encamped. They exclaimed loudly against the emperor's notorious violation of the laws and constitu- tion of the empire, in having called in foreigners to lay waste Germany, and to oppress its liberties. As, in that age, the dominion of the Roman see was so odious to the protestants, that the name of the pope alone was sufficient to inspire them with horror at any enterprise which he counte- nanced, and to raise in their minds the blackest suspicions, it came to be universally believed among them, that Paul, not satisfied with attacking them openly by force of arms, had dispersed his emissaries all over Ger- many, to set on fire their towns and magazines, and to poison the wells and fountains of water. Nor did this rumour, which was extravagant and frightful enough to make a deep impression on the credulity of the vulgar, spread among them only; even the leaders of the party, blinded by their prejudices, published a declaration, in which they accused the pope of having employed such antichristian and diabolical arts against them.§ These sentiments of the confederates were confirmed, in some measure", by the behaviour of the papal troops, who, thinking nothing too rigorous towards heretics anathematized by the church, were guilty of great excesses in the territories of the Lutheran states, and aggravated the calamities of war, by mingling with it all the cruelty of bigoted zeal. The first operations in the field, however, did not correspond with the violence of those passions which animated individuals. The emperor had prudently taken the resolution of avoiding an action with an army so far superior in number,|| especially as he foresaw that nothing could keep a body composed of so many and such dissimilar members "from falling to pieces, but the pressing to attack it with an inconsiderate precipitancy. The confederates, though it was no less evident that to them every moment's delay was pernicious, were still prevented by the weakness or division of their leaders from exerting that vigour, with which their situa- tion, as well as the ardour of their soldiers, ought to have inspired them. On their arrival at Ingoldstadt [Aug. 29], they found the emperor in a camp not remarkable for strength, and surrounded only by a slight entrench- * Adriani Iatoria
  • 38. Struvii Corp. 104?. Thuan. 84. + Struvii Corp. 104fi. 1 Sleid. 3U1. Thuan. 84. Vol. I!.— 44 346 T H E R E I G N O F T 1 1 E [Book VIII. which he endeavoured to cover his ambition, he, soon after his return from Ratisbon, had called together the states of his country ; and representing to them that a civil war between the emperor and confederates of Smalkalde was now become unavoidable, desired their advice with regard to the part which he should act in th.it event. They having been pre- pared, no doubt, and tutored beforehand, and being desirous of gratifying their prince, whom they esteemed as well as loved, gave such counsel as (hey knew would be most agreeable ; advising him to offer his mediation towards reconciling the contending parties ; but if that were rejected, and he could obtain proper security tor the protestant religion, they delivered it as their opinion, that, in all other points, he ought to yield obedience to the emperor. Upon receiving the Imperial rescript, together with the ban against the elector and landgrave, Maurice summoned the states of his country a second time ; he laid before them the orders which he had received, and mentioned the punishment with which he was threatened in case of disobedience ; he acquainted them, that the confederates had refused to admit of his mediation, and that the emperor had given him the most satisfactory declarations with regard to religion; he pointed out hi^ own interest in securing possession of the electoral dominions, as well as the danger of allowing strangers to obtain an establishment in Saxony; and upon the whole, as the point under deliberation respected his subjects no less than himself, he desired to know their sentiments, how he should steer in that difficult and arduous conjuncture. The states, no less obse- quious and complaisant than formerly, professing their own reliance on the emperor's promises as a perfect security for their religion, proposed that, before he had recourse to more violent methods, they would write to the elector, exhorting him, as the best means, not only of appeasing the em- peror, but of preventing his dominions from being seized by foreign or hostile powers, to give his consent that Maurice should take possession of them quietly and without opposition. Maurice himself seconded their arguments in a letter to the landgrave, his father-in-law. 'Such an extrava- gant proposition was rejected with the scorn and indignation which it deserved. The landgrave, in return to Maurice, taxed him with his treachery and ingratitude towards a kinsman to whom he was so deeply indebted ; he treated with contempt his affectation of executing the Impe- rial ban, which he could not but know to be altogether void by the uncon- stitutional and arbitrary manner in which it had been issued ; he besought him, not to suffer himself to be so far blinded by ambition, as to forget the obligations of honour and friendship, or to betray the protestant religion, the extirpation of which out of Germany, even by the acknowledgment of the pope himself, was the great object of the present war.* But Maurice had proceeded too far to be diverted from pursuing his plan by reproaches or arguments. Nothing now remained but to execute with vigour, what he hitherto carried on by artifice and dissimulation. Nor was his boldness in action inferior to his subtlety in contrivance. Having assembled about twelve thousand men, he suddenly invaded one part ol the electoral provinces, while Ferdinand, with an army composed of Bohemians and Hungarians, overran the other. Maurice, in two sharp encounters, defeated the troops which the elector had left to guard his country; and improving these advantages to the utmost, made himseh master of all the electorate, except VV ittemberg, Gotha, and Eisenach, which being places of considerable strength, and defended by sufficient garrisons, refused to open their gates. The news of these rapid conquests soon reached the Imperial and confederate camps. In the former, satis- faction with an event, which it was foreseen would be productive ol the most important consequences, was expressed by every possible demon ' Hlnid. 405, &c. Tbuan 85. Camerar. 484. EMPEROR CHARLES \. 347 stration oi" joy. The latter was filled with astonishment and terror. The name of Maurice was mentioned with execration, as an apostate from reli- gion, a betrayer of the German liberty, and a contemner of the most sacred and natural ties. Eveiy thing that the rage or invention of the party could suggest, in order to blacken and render him odious, invectives, satires, and lampoons, the furious declamations of their preachers, together with the rude wit of their authors, were all employed against him. While he, confiding in the arts which he had so long practised, as if his actions could have admitted of any serious justification, published a mani- festo, containing the same frivolous reasons for his conduct, which he had formerly alleged in the meeting of his states, and in his letter to the land- grave.* The elector, upon the first intelligence of Maurice's motions, proposed to return home with his troops for the defence of Saxony. But the depu- ties of the league, assembled at Ulm, prevailed on him, at that time, to remain with the army, and to prefer the success of the common cause be- fore the security of his own dominions. At length the sufferings and com- plaints of his subjects increased so much, that he discovered the utmost impatience to set out, in order to rescue them from the oppression ot Maurice, and from the cruelty of the Hungarians, who, having been accus- tomed to that licentious and merciless species of war which was thought lawful against the Turks, committed, wherever they came, the wildest acts of rapine and violence. This desire of the elector was so natural and so warmly urged, that the deputies at Ulm, though fully sensible of the unhappy consequences of dividing their army, durst not refuse their consent, how unwilling soever to grant it. In this perplexity, they repaired to the camp of the confederates at Giengen, on the Brenz, in order to con- sult their constituents. Nor were they less at a loss what to determine in this pressing emergence. But, after having considered seriously the open desertion of some of their allies ; the scandalous lukewarmness of others, who had hitherto contributed nothing towards the war ; the intolerable load which had fallen of consequence upon such members as were most zealous for the cause, or most faithful to their engagements ; the ill suc- cess of all their endeavours to obtain foreign aid ; the unusual length of the campaign ; the rigour of the season ; together with the great number oH soldiers, and even officers, who had quitted the service on that account ; they concluded that nothing could save them, but either the bringing the contest to the immediate decision of a battle, by attacking the Imperial army, or an accommodation of all their differences with Charles by a treaty. Such was the despondency and dejection which now oppressed the party, that of these two they chose what was most feeble and unmanly, empowering a minister of the elector of Brandenburg to propound over- tures of peace in their name to the emperor. No sooner did Charles perceive this haughty confederacy which had so lately threatened to drive him out of Germany, condescending to make the first advances towards an agreement, than concluding their spirit to be gone, or their union to be broken, he immediately assumed the tone of a conqueror ; and, as if they had been already at his mercy, would not hear of a negotiation, but upon condition that the elector of Saxony should pre- viously give up himself and his dominions absolutely to his disposal. f As nothing more intolerable or ignominious could have been prescribed, even in the worst situation of their affairs, it is no wonder that this propo- sition should be rejected by a party, which was rather humbled and his- concerted than subdued. But though they refused to submit tamely to the emperor's will, they wanted spirit to pursue the only plan which could have preserved their independence ; and forgetting that it was the union * Sleid. 409, 4in. fHortenatuB, ap. Scafd. ii. 4s,~. 348 THE REIGN OF THE [Book VIII. of their troops in one body which had hitherto rendered the confederacy formidable, and had more than once obliged the Imperialists to 'hink of quitting the field, they inconsiderately abandoned their advantage, which, in spite of the diversion in Saxony, would still have kept the emperor in awe ; and yielding to the elector's entreaties, consented to his proposal of dividing the army. Nine thousand men were left in the dutchy of Wur- temberg, in order to protect that province, as well as the free cities of Upper Germany; a considerable body marched with the elector towards Saxony; but the greater part returned with their respective leaders into their own countries, and were dispersed there.* The moment that the troops separated, the confederacy ceased to be the object of tenor ; and the members of it, who, while they composed part of a great body, had felt but little anxiety about their own security, began to tremble when they reflected that they now stood exposed singly to the whole weight of the emperor's vengeance. "Charles did not allow them leisure to recover from their consternation, or to form any new schemes of union. As soon as the confederates began to retire, he put his army in motion, and though it was now in the depth of winter, he resolved to keep the field, in order to make the most of that favourable juncture for which he had waited so long. Some small towns in which the pro- testants had left garrisons, immediately opened their gates. Norlingen, Rotenberg, and Hall, Imperial cities, submitted soon after. Though Charles could not prevent the elector from levying, as he retreated, large contributions upon the archbishop of Mentz, the abbot of Fulda, and other ecclesiastics,! this was more than balanced by the submission of Ulm, one of the chief cities of Suabia, highly distinguished by its zeal for the Smalkaldic league. As soon as an example was set of deserting the com- mon cause, the rest of the members became instantly impatient to follow it, and seemed afraid lest others, by getting the start of them in returning to their duty, should, on that account, obtain more favourable terms. The elector Palatine, a weak prince, who, notwithstanding his professions of neutrality, had, very preposterously, sent to the confederates four hundred horse, a body so inconsiderable as to be scarcely any addition to their strength, but great enough to render him guilty in the eyes of the empe- ror, made his acknowledgments in the most abject manner. The inhabit- ants of Augsburg, shaken by so many instances of apostacy, expelled the brave Schertel out of their city, and accepted such conditions as the em- peror was pleased to grant them. 1547.] The duke of Wurtemberg, though among the first who had offered 1o submit, was obliged to sue for pardon on his knees; and even after this mortifying humiliation, obtained it with difficulty.! Memmingen, and other free cities in Suabia, being now abandoned by all their former asso- ciates, found it necessary to provide for their own safety, by throwing themselves on the emperor's mercy. Strasburg and Frankfort on the Maine, cities far remote from the seat of danger, discovered no greater steadiness than those which lay more exposed. Thus a confederacy, lately so powerful as to shake the Imperial throne, fell to pieces, and was dis- solved in the space of a few weeks; hardly any member of that formida- ble combination now remaining in arms, but the elector and landgrave, whom the emperor, having from the beginning marked out as the victims of his vengeance, was at no pains to offer terms of reconciliation. Nor did he grant those who submitted to him a generous and unconditional pardon. Conscious of his own superiority, he treated them both with haughtiness and rigour. All the princes in person, and the cities by their deputies, were compelled to implore mercy in the humble posture of sup- plicants. As the emperor laboured under great difficulties from the want * Sleid. 410. tThuan. 88. J Mem. de Ribier. tnm. i S8B. • EMPEROR CHARLES V. 349 of money, he imposed heavy fines upon them, which he levied with most rapacious exactness. The duke of Wurtemberg paid three hundred thou- sand crowns; the city of Augsburg a hundred and fifty thousand ; Ulm a hundred thousand ; Frankfort eighty thousand ; Memmingen fifty thou- sand ; and the rest in proportion to their abilities, or their different degrees of guilt. They were obliged, besides, to renounce the league of Smal- kalde ; to furnish assistance, if required, towards executing the Imperial ban against the elector and landgrave ; to give up their artillery and war- like stores to the emperor ; to admit garrisons into their principal cities and places of strength ; and, in this disarmed and dependent situation, to expect the final award which the emperor should think proper to pro- nounce when the war came to an issue.* But amidst the great variety of articles dictated by Charles on this occasion, he in conformity to his original plan, took care that nothing relating to religion should be inserted ; and to such a degree were the confederates humbled or overawed, that forgetting the zeal which had so long animated them, they were solicitous only about: their own safety, without venturing to insist on a point, the mention of, which they saw the emperor avoiding with so much industry. The inha- bitants of Memmingen alone made some feeble efforts to procure a pro- mise of protection in the exercise of their religion, but were checked so severely by the Imperial ministers, that they instantly fell from their demand. The elector of Cologne, whom, notwithstanding the sentence of excom- munication issued against him by the pope, Charles had hitherto allowed to remain in possession of the archiepiscopal see, being now required by the emperor to submit to the censures of the church, this virtuous and disin- terested prelate, unwilling to expose his subjects to the miseries of war on his own account, voluntarily resigned that high dignity [Jan. 25]. With a moderation becoming his age and character, he chose to enjoy truth, together with the exercise of his religion, in the retirement of a private life, rather than to disturb society by engaging in a doubtful and violent struggle in order to retain his office. t During these transactions, the elector of Saxony reached the frontiers of his country unmolested. As Maurice could assemble no force equal to thr army vyhich accompanied him, he in a- short time, not only recovered possession of his own territories, but overran Misnia, and stripped bis rival of all that belonged to him, except Dresden and Leipsic, which, being- towns of some strength, could not be suddenly reduced. Maurice, obliged to quit the field, and to shut himself up in his capital, despatched courier after courier to the emperor, representing his dangerous situation, and soli- citing him with the most earnest importunity to march immediately to his relief. But Charles, busy at that time in prescribing terms to such members of the league as were daily returning to their allegiance, thought it sufficient to detach Albert marquis of Brandenburg-Anspach with three thousand men to his assistance. Albert, though an enterprising and active officer, was unexpectedly surprised by the elector, who killed many of his troops, dis- persed the remainder, and took him prisoner, j Maurice continued as much oxposed as formerly ; and if his enemy had known how to improve the opportunity which presented itself, his ruin must have been immediate and unavoidable. But the elector, no less slow and dilatory when invested with the sole command, than he had been formerly when joined in autho- rity with a partner, never gave any proof of military activity but in this enterprise against Albert. Instead of marching directly towards Maurice, whom the defeat of his ally had greatly alarmed, he inconsiderately listened to overtures of accommodation, which his artful antagonist proposed with * Sleid.4U, &.c. Tliuan. lib. iv. p. 135. Mem. de Ribifr, torn. i. 606. tSleid.418 Thnan us. iv. I?*. A Aviia 99.6 Mem. de Ribier. torn. i 880 35U THE REIGN OF THE (Book VIII. ' no other intention than to amuse him, and to slacken the vigour of re- operations. Such, indeed, was the posture of the emperor's affairs, that lie could not march instantly to the relief of his ally. Soon after the separation of the confederate army, he, in order to ease himself of the burden of maintaining a superfluous number of troops, had dismissed the count of Buren with his Flemings,* imagining that the Spaniards and Germans, together with the papal forces, would be fully sufficient to crush any degree of vigour that yet remained among the members of the league. But Paul, growing wise loo late, began now to discern the imprudence of that measure from which the more sagacious Venetians had endeavoured in vain to dissuade him. The rapid progress of the Imperial arms, and the ease with which they had broken a combination that appeared no less firm than powerful, opened his eves at length, and made him not only forget at once all the advantages which he had expected from such a complete triumph over heresy, but placed, in the strongest light', his own impolitic conduct, in having contri- buted towards acquiring for Charles such an immense increase of power, as would enable him, after oppressing the liberties of Germany, to give lav with absolute authority to all the states of Italy. The moment that he per- ceived his error, he endeavoured to correct it. Without giving the emperor any warning of his intention, he ordered Farnese, his grandson, to return instantly to Italy with all the troops under his command, and at the same time recalled the license which he had granted Charles, of appropriating to his own use a large share of the church lands in Spain. He was not destitute of pretences to justify this abrupt desertion of his ally. The term of six months, during which the stipulations in their treaty were to continue in force, was now expired ; the league, in opposition to which their alliance had been framed, seemed to be entirely dissipated ; Charles, in all his negotiations with the princes and cities which had submitted to his will, had neither consulted the pope, nor had allotted him any part of the con- quests which he had made, nor had allowed him any share in the vast contributions which he had raised. He had not even made any provision for the suppression of heresy, or the re-establishment of the catholic religion, which were Paul's chief inducements to bestow the treasures of the church co liberally in carrying on the war. These colours, however specious, did not conceal from the emperor that secret jealousy which was the true motive of the pope's conduct. But as Paul's orders with regard to the march of his troops were no less peremptory than unexpected, it was impossible to prevent their retreat. Charles exclaimed loudly against hi* treachery, in abandoning him so unseasonably, while he was prosecuting a war undertaken in obedience to the papal injunctions, and from which, it successful, so much honour and advantage would redound to the church. To complaints he added threats and expostulations. But Paul remained inflexible ; his troops continued their march towards the ecclesiastical state, and in an elaborate memorial, intended as an apology for his conduct, he discovered new and more manifest symptoms of alienation from the emperor, together with a deep rooted dread of his power.f Charles, weakened by the withdrawing of so great a body from his army, which was already much diminished by the number ot garrisons that he had been obliged to throw into the towns which had capitulated, found it neces- sary to recruit his forces by new levies, before he could venture to march in person towards Saxony. The fame and splendour of his success could not have failed of attracting' such multitudes of soldiers into his service from all the extensive territories now subject to his authority, as must soon have put him in a condition ot faking the field against the elector; but the sudden and violent eruption ot *Afala,83. 6. Mem. de RIbier. torn. i. 502. * F. T\nil. 208. PaDavic. par. ii. p; 5 Tmran.126 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 351 a conspiracy at Genoa, as well as the great revolutions which that event, extremely mysterious in its first appearances, seemed to portend, obliged him to avoid entangling himself in new operations in Germany, until he had fully discovered its source and tendency. The form of government which had been established in Genoa, at the time when Andrew Doria restored liberty to his country, though calculated to obliterate the memory of former dissensions, and received at first with eager approbation, did not. after a trial of near twenty years, give universal satisfaction to those turbu- lent and factious republicans. As the entire administration of affaire wa3 now lodged in a certain number of noble families, many, envying them that pre-eminence, wished for the restitution of a popular government, to which they had been accustomed ; and though all reverenced the disinter- ested virtue of Doria, and admired his talents, not a few were jealous of that ascendant which he had acquired in the councils of the commonwealth. His age, however, his moderation, and his love of liberty, afforded ample security to his countrymen that he would not abuse his power, nor stain the close of his days by attempting to overturn that fabric, which it had been the labour and pride of his life to erect. But the authority and influ- ence which in his hands were innocent, they easily saw would prove destructive, if usurped by any citizen of greater ambition, or less virtue. A citizen of this dangerous character had actually formed such pretensions, and with some prospect of success. Giannetino Doria, whom his grand uncle Andrew destined to be the heir of his private fortune, aimed likewise at being his successor in power. His temper, haughty, insolent, and over- bearing to such a degree as would hardly have been tolerated in one born to reign, was altogether unsupportable in the citizen of a free state. The more sagacious among the Genoese already feared and hated him as the enemy of those liberties for which they were indebted to his uncle. While Andrew himself, blinded by that violent and undiscerning affection which persons in advanced age often contract for the younger members of their family, set no bounds to the indulgence with which he treated him ; seeming- less solicitous to secure and perpetuate the freedom of the commonwealth, than to aggrandize that undeser\yng kinsman. But whatever suspicion of Doria's designs, or whatever dissatisfaction with the system of administration in the commonwealth, these circumstances might have occasioned, they would have ended, it is probable, in nothing more than murmurings and complaints, if John Lewis Fiesco count of Lavagna, observing this growing disgust, had not been encouraged by it to attempt one of the boldest actions recorded in history. That young nobleman, the richest and most illustrious subject in the republic, possessed, in an eminent degree, all the qualities which win upon the human heart, which command respect, or secure attachment. He was graceful and majestic in his person ; magnificent even to profusion ; of a generosity that anticipated the wishes of his friends, and exceeded the expectations of strangers ; of an insinuating address, gentle manners, and a flowing affability. But under the appearance of these virtues, which seemed to form him for enjoying and adorning social life, he concealed all the dispositions which mark men out for taking the lead in the most dangerous and dark conspi- racies ; an insatiable and restless ambition, a courage unacquainted with fear, and a mind that disdained subordination. Such a temper could ill brook that station of inferiority, wherein he was placed in the republic ; and as he envied the power which the elder Doria had acquired, he was filled with indignation at the thoughts of its descending, like an hereditary possession, to Giannetino. These various passions, preying with violence on his turbulent and aspiring mind, determined him to attempt overturning that domination to which he could not submit. As the most effectual method of accomplishing this, he thought at firsl of forming a connection with Francis, and even proposed it to the French 36ii THE REIGN OF THE [Rook V HI. ambassador at Rome; and after expelling Doria, together with the Im- perial faction, by his assistance, he offered to put the republic once more under the protection of that monarch, hoping in return for that service to be intrusted with the principal share in the administration of government. But having communicated his scheme to a few chosen confidants, from whom he kept nothing secret, Verrina, the chief of them, a man of des- perate fortune, capable alike of advising and executing the most audacious deeds, remonstrated with earnestness against the folly of exposing himself to the most imminent danger, while he allowed another to reap all the fruits of his success ; and exhorted him warmly to aim himself at that pre- eminence in his country, to which he was destined by his illustrious birth, was called by the voice of his fellow-citizens, and would be raised by the zeal of his friends. This discourse opened such great prospects to Fiesco. and so suitable to his genius, that abandoning his own plan, he eagerly adopted that of Verrina. The other persons present, though sensible of the hazardous nature of the undertaking, did not choose to condemn what their patron had so warmly approved." It was instantly resolved, in this dark cabal, to assassinate the two Dorias, as well as the principal persons of their party, to overturn the established system of government, and to place Fiesco on the ducal throne of Genoa. Time, however, and pre- parations were requisite to ripen such a design for execution ; and while he was employed in carrying on these, Fiesco made it his chief care to guard against every thing that might betray his secret, or create suspicion. The disguise he assumed, was of all others the most impenetrable. He seemed to be abandoned entirely to pleasure and dissipation. A perpetual gayety, diversified by the pursuit of all the amusements in which persons of his age and rank are apt to delight, engrossed, in appearance, the whole of his time and thoughts. But amidst this hurry of dissipation, he prose- cuted his plan with the most cool attention, neither retarding the design by a timid hesitation, nor precipitating the execution by an excess of impatience. He continued his correspondence with the French ambassador at Rome, though without communicating to him his real intentions, that by his means he might secure the protectioruof the French arms, if hereafter he should find it necessary to call them in to his aid. He entered into a close con- federacy with Farnese duke of Parma, who, being disgusted with the em- peror for refusing to grant him the investiture of that dutchy, was eager to promote any measure that tended to diminish his influence in Italy, or to ruin a family so implicitly devoted to him as that of Doria. Being sensible that, in a maritime state, the acquisition of naval power was what he ought chiefly to aim at, he purchased four galleys from the pope, who probably was not unacquainted with the design which he had formed, and did not disapprove of it. Under colour of fitting up one of these galleys to sail on a cruise against the Turks, he not only assembled a good number of his own vassals, but engaged in his service many bold adventurers, whom the truce between the emperor and Solyman had deprived of their usual occu- pation and subsistence. While Fiesco was taking these important steps, he preserved so ad- mirably his usual appearance of being devoted entirely to pleasure and amusement, and paid court with such artful address to the two Dorias, as imposed not only on the generous and unsuspicious mind of Andrew, but deceived Giannetino, who, conscious of his own criminal intentions, was more apt to distrust the designs of others. So many instruments being now prepared, nothing now remained but to strike the blow. Varion- consultations were held by Fiesco with his confidants, in order to settle Ihe manner of doing it with the greatest certainly and effect. At first, they proposed to murder the Dorias and their chid adherents, during the cele- bration of high mass in the principal church ; but, as Andrew was often ibsent from religious solemnities on account of his great agSj thai desigi LMPEKOR CHARLES V. 359 \,as laid aside. It was then concerted that Fiesco should invite the uncle mid nephew, with all their friends whom he had marked out as victims, to his house ; where it would he easy to cut them off at once without danger or resistance ; hut as Giannetino was obliged to leave the town on the day which they had chosen, it became necessary likewise to alter this plan. They at last determined to attempt by open force, what they found difficult to effect by stratagem, and fixed on the night between the second and third of January, for the execution of their enterprise. The time was chosen with great propriety; for as the doge of the former year was to quit his office, according to custom, on the first of the month, and his suc- cessor could not be elected sooner than the fourth, the republic remained during that interval in a sort of anarchy ,-and Fiesco might with less violence take possession of the vacant dignity. The morning of that day Fiesco employed in visiting his friends, passing some hours among them with a spirit as gay and unembarrassed as at other times. Towards evening, he paid court to the Dorias with his usual marks of respect, and surveying their countenance and behaviour with the attention natural in his situation, was happy to observe the perfect security in which they remained, without the least foresight or dread of that storm which had been so long a gathering, and was now ready to burst over their heads. From their palace he hastened to his own, which stood by itself in the middle of a large court, surrounded by a high wall. The gates had been set open in the morning, and all persons, without distinction, were allowed to enter, but strong guards posted within the court suffered no one to return. Verrina, meanwhile, and a few persons trusted with the secret of the conspiracy, after conducting Fiesco's vassals, as well as the crews of his galleys, into the palace in small bodies, with as little noise as possible, dispersed themselves through the city, and, in the name of their patron, invited to an entertainment the principal citizens whom they knew to be disgusted with the administration of the Dorias, and to have inclination as well as courage to attempt a change in the government. Of the vast number of persons who now filled the palace, a few only knew for what purpose they were assembled ; the rest^ astonished at finding, instead of the preparations for a feast, a court crowded with armed men, and apart- ments filled with the instruments of war, gazed on each other with a mix- ture of curiosity, impatience, and terror. While their minds were in this state of suspense and agitation, Fiesco appeared. With a look full of alacrity and confidence, he addressed himself to the persons of chief distinction, telling them, that they were not now called to partake of the pleasure of an entertainment, but to join in a deed of valour, which would lead them to liberty and immortal renown. He set before their eyes the exorbitant as well as intolerable authority of the elder Doria, which the ambition of Giannetino, and the partiality of the emperor to a family more devoted to him than to their country, was about to enlarge and to render perpetual. This unrighteous dominion, continued he, you have it now in your power to subvert, and to establish the freedom of your country on a firm basis. The tyrants must be cut off. I have taken the most effectual measures for this purpose. My associates are numerous. I can depend on allies and protectors if necessary. Hap- pily, the tyrants are as secure as I have been provident. Their insolent ' contempt of their countrymen has banished the suspicion and timidity which usually render the guilty quick-sighted to discern, as well as saga- cious to guard against the vengeance which they deserve. They will now feel the blow, before they suspect any hostile hand to be nigh. Let us then sally forth, that we may deliver our country by one generous effort, almost unaccompanied with danger, and certain of success. These words, uttered with that irresistible fervour which animates the mind when roused by great objects, made the desired impression on the audience. Fiesco's \r0L, H. -45 354 THE KE1GN OF THE [Book VHI. vassals, ready to execute whatever their master should command, received his discourse with a murmur of applause. To many, whose fortunes were desperate, the license and confusion of an insurrection afforded an agreeable prospect. Those of higher rank and more virtuous sentiments, durst not discover the surprise or horror with which they were struck at the proposal of an enterprise no less unexpected than atrocious ; as each of them imagined the other to be in the secret of the conspiracy, and saw himself surrounded by persons who waited only a signal from their leader to per- petrate the greatest crime. With one voice then all applauded, or feigned to applaud, the undertaking. Fiesco having thus fixed and encouraged his associates, before he eave them his last orders, he hastened for a moment to the apartment of his wife, a lady of the noble house of Cibo, whom he loved with tender affection, and whose beauty and virtue rendered her worthy of his love. The noise of the armed men who crowded the court and palace, having long before this reached her ears, she concluded some hazardous enterprise to be in hand, and she trembled for her husband. He found her in all the anguish of uncertainty and fear ; and, as it was now impossible to keep his design concealed, he informed her of what he had undertaken. The prospect of a scene so full of horror as well as danger, completed her agony ; and foreboding immediately in her mind the fatal issue of it, she endeavoured, by her tears, her entreaties, and her despair, to divert him from his purpose. Fiesco, after trying in vain to soothe and to inspire her with hope, broke from a situation into which an excess of tenderness had unwarily seduced him, though it could not shake his resolution. " Farewell," he cried, as he quitted the apartment, " you shall either never see me more, or you shall behold to-morrow every thing in Genoa subject to your power." As soon as he rejoined his companions, he allotted each his proper sta- tion : some were appointed to assault and seize the different gates of the city ; some to make themselves masters of the principal streets or places of strength : Fiesco reserved for himself the attack of the harbour, where Doria's galleys were laid up, as the post of chief importance, and of greatest danger. It was now midnight, and the citizens slept in the secu- rity of peace, when this band of conspirators, numerous, desperate, and well-armed, rushed out to execute their plan. They surprised some of the gates, without meeting with any resistance. They got possession of others after a sharp conflict with the soldiers on guard. Verrina, with the galley which had been fitted out against the Turks, blocked up the mouth of the Darsena or little harbour where Doria's fleet lay. All pos- sibility of escape being cut off by tin's precaution, when Fiesco attempted to enter the galleys from the shore, to which they were made fast, they were in no condition to make resistance, as they were not only unrigged and disarmed, but had no crew on board, except the slaves chained to the oar. Every quarter of the city was now filled with noise and tumult, all the streets resounding with the cry of Fiesco and Liberty. At that name, so popular and beloved, many of the lower rank took arms and joined the conspirators. The nobles and partisans of the aristocracy, astonished or affrighted, shut the gates of their houses, and thought of nothing but of securing them from pillage. At last the noise excited by this scene of violence and confusion, reached the palace of Doria ; Giannetino started immediately from his bed, and, imagining that it was occasioned by some mutiny among the sailors, rushed out with a few attendants, and hurried towards the harbour. The gate of St. Thomas, through which he had to pass, was already in the possession of the conspirators, who, the moment he appeared, fell upon him with the utmost fury, and murdered him on the spot. The same must have been the fate of the elder Doria, if Jerome U' Fiesco had executed his brother's plan, and had proceeded immedi- EMPEROR CHARLES V. 356 jiely to attack him in his palace ; but he, from the sordid consideration of preventing its being plundered amidst the confusion, having forbid his followers to advance, Andrew got intelligence of his nephew's death, as well as of his own danger ; and, mounting on horseback, saved himself by flight. Amidst this general consternation, a few senators had the courage to assemble in the palace of the republic* At first, some of the most daring among them attempted to rally the scattered soldiers, and to attack a body of the conspirators ; but being repulsed with loss, all agreed that nothing now remained but to treat with the party which seemed to be irresistible. Deputies were accordingly sent to learn of Fiesco what were the concessions with which he would be satisfied, or rather to submit to whatever terms he should please to prescribe. Bat by this time Fiesco, with whom they were empowered to nego- tiate, was no more. Just as he was about to leave the harbour, where every thing had succeeded to his wish, that he might join his victorious companions, he heard some extraordinary uproar on board the admiral galley. Alarmed at the noise, and fearing that the slaves might break their chains, and overpower his associates, ne ran thither ; but the plank which reached from the shore to the vessel happening to overturn, he fell into the sea, whilst he hurried forward too precipitately. Being loaded with heavy armour, he sunk to the bottom, and perished in the very moment when he must have taken full possession of every thing that his ambitious heart could desire. Verrina was the first who discovered this- Jatal accident, and foreseeing, at once, all its consequences, concealed it with the utmost industry from every one but a few leaders of the con- spiracy. Nor was it difficult, amidst the darkness and confusion of the night, to have kept it secret, until a treaty with the senators should have put the city in the power of the conspirators All thpir hopes of this were disconcerted by the imprudence of Jerome Fiesco, who, when the deputies of the senate inquired for his brother, the count of Lavagna, that they might make their proposals to him, replied, with a childish vanity, " I am now the only person to whom that title belongs, and with me you must treat." These words discovered as well to his friends as to his enemies what had happened, and made the impression which might have been expected upon both. The deputies, encouraged by this event, the only one which could occasion such a sudden revolution as might turn to fheir advantage, assumed instantly, with admirable presence of mind, a new tone, suitable to the change in their circumstances, and made high demands. While they endeavoured to gain time by protracting the nego- tiation, the rest of the senators were busy in assembling their partisan?, and in forming a body capable of defending the palace of the republic. On the other hand, the conspirators, astonished at the death of a man whom they adored and trusted, and placing no confidence in Jerome, a giddy youth, felt their courage die away, and their arms fall from their hands. That profound and amazing secrecy with which the conspiracy had been concerted, and which had contributed hitherto so much to its success, proved now the chief cause of its miscarriage. The leader was gone ; the greater part of those who acted under him, knew not his con- fidants, and were strangers to the object at which he aimed. There was no person among them whose authority or abilities entitled him to assume Fiesco's place, or to finish his plan ; after having lost the spirit which animated it, life and activity deserted the whole body. Many of the conspirators withdrew to their houses, hoping that amidst the darkness of the night they had passed unobserved, and might remain unknown, i Others sought for safety by a timely retreat ; and, before break of day, * n-pai ■ EfigBOrife 356 THE REIGN OF THE (Book LY. most of them lied with precipitation from a city, which but a few hours in tore, was ready to acknowledge them as masters. Next morning every thing was quiet in Genoa ; not an enemy was to be seen ; kw marks of the violence of the former night appeared, the conspirators having conducted their enterprise with more noise than bloodshed, and gained all their advantages by surprise, rather than by force of arms. Towards evening, Andrew Doria returned to the city, being met by all the inhabitants, who received him with acclamations of joy. Though the disgrace as well as danger of the preceding night were fresh in his mind, and the mangled body of his kinsman still before bis eyes, such was his moderation as well as magnanimity, that the decree issued by the senate against the conspirators, did not exceed that just measure of severity which was requisite for the support of government, and was dictated neither by the violence of resentment, nor the rancour of revenge.* After taking the necessary precautions for preventing the flame, which was now so happily extinguished, from breaking out anew, the first care ot the senate was to send an ambassador to the emperor, to give him a particular detail of what had happened, and to beg his assistance towards the reduction of Montobbio, a strong fort on the hereditary estate of the Fiesci, in which Jerome had shut himself up. Charles was no less alarmed than astonished at an event so strange and unexpected. He could not believe that Fiesco, how bold or adventurous soever, durst have attempted such an enterprise, but on foreign suggestion, and from the hope of foreign aid. Being informed that the duke of Parma was well acquainted with the plan of the conspirators, he immediately supposed that the pope could *>ot be ignorant of a measure, which his son had countenanced. Proceed- ing from this to a farther conjecture, which Paul's cautious maxims of policy in other instances rendered extremely probable, he concluded that the French king must have known and approved of the design ; and he began to apprehend that this spark might again kindle the flame of war which had raged so long in Italy. As he had drained his Italian territories of troops on account ot the German war, he was altogether unprovided for resisting any hostile attack in that country ; and on the first appearance of danger, be must have detached thither the greatest part of his forces for its defence. In this situation of affairs, it would have been altogether impru- dent in the emperor to have advanced in person against the elector, until he should learn with some degree of certainty whether such a scene were not about to open in Italy, as might put it out of his power to keep the field with an army sufficient to oppose him. BOOK IX. The emperor's dread of the hostile intentions of the pope and French king did not proceed from any imaginary or ill-grounded suspicion. Paul had already given the strongest proofs both of his jealousy and enmity. * Thuan. 93. Sigonii Vita Andree Doria;, 1196. La Conjuration du Compte de Ficsque, par Cardin. de Retz. Adriani Istoria. lib. vi. 369. Folietxe Conjiiratio Jo Lud. Fiesci, ap. Grav. Thee. Hal. i. 883. It is remarkable, that Cardinal de Retz, at the age of eighteen, composed a history of this conspiracy, containing such a discovery of his admiration of Fiesco and his en- terprise, as rendered it not surprising that a minister, so jealous and discerning as Richelieu, should be led, by the perusal of it, to predict the turbulent and dangerous spirit of thafrvoune ecclesiastic Mem. de Retz, torn. i. p. 13. EMPEROR CHARLES V. o57 Charles could not hope that Francis, after a rivalship of so long continu- ance, would behold the great advantages which he had gained over the confederate protestants, without feeling his ancient emulation revive. He was not deceived in this conjecture. Francis had observed the rapid pro- gress of his arms with deep concern, and though hitherto prevented by circumstances which have been mentioned, from interposing in order to check them, he was now convinced that, if he did not make some extra- ordinary and timely effort, Charles must acquire such a degree of power as would enable him to give law to the rest of Europe. This apprehen- sion, which did not take its rise from the jealousy of rivalship alone, but was entertained by the wisest politicians of the age, suggested various expedients which might serve to retard the course of the emperor's victo- ries, and to form by degrees such a combination against him as might put a stop to his dangerous career. With this view, Francis instructed his emissaries in Germany to employ all their address in order to revive the courage of the confederates, and to Erevent them from submitting to the emperor. He made liberal offers of is assistance to the elector and landgrave, whom he knew to be the most zealous as well as the most powerful of the whole body ; he used every argument and proposed every advantage which could either confirm their dread of the emperor's designs, or determine them not to imitate the incon- siderate credulity of their associates, in giving up their religion and liber- ties to his disposal. While he took this step towards continuing the civil war which raged in Germany, he endeavoured likewise to stir up foreign enemies against the emperor. He solicited Solyman to seize this favour- able opportunity of invading Hungary, which had been drained of all the troops necessary for its defence, in order to form the army against the con- federates of Smalkalde. He exhorted the pope to repair, by a vigorous and seasonable effort, the error of which he had been guilty in contribu- ting to raise the emperor to such a formidable height of power. Finding Paul, both from the consciousness of his own mistake, and his dread of its consequences, abundantly disposed to listen to what he suggested, he availed himself of this favourable disposition which the pontiff began to discover, as an argument to gain the Venetians. He endeavoured to convince them that nothing could save Italy, and even Europe, from oppression and ser- vitude, but their joining with the pope and him, in giving the first begin- ning to a general confederacy, in order to humble that ambitious potentate, whom they had all equal reason to dread. Having set on foot these negotiations, in the southern courts, he turned his attention next towards those in the north of Europe. As the king of Denmark had particular reasons to be offended with the emperor, Francis imagined that the object of the league which he had projected would be highly acceptable to him : and lest considerations of caution or prudence would restrain him from joining in it, he attempted to overcome these, by offering him the young queen of Scots in marriage to his son.* As the ministers who governed England in the name of Edward VI. had openly declared themselves converts to the opinions of the reformers, as soon as it became safe upon Henry's death to lay aside that disguise which his intol- erant bigotry had forced them to assume, Francis nattered himself that their zeal would not allow them to remain inactive spectators of the over- throw and destruction of those who professed the same faith with them- selves. He hoped, that notwithstanding the struggles of faction incident to a minority, and the prospect of an approaching rupture with the Scots, he might prevail on them likewise to take part in the common cause. 1 While I4 rands employed such a variety of expedients, and exerted him- self with such extraordinary activity, to rouse the different states of Eu- i tttSB- d»- Ribier. i. fine. fiOfi. f tWdi 635. 35« THE REIGN OF THE [Book IX. rope against his rival, he did not neglect what depended on himself alone. He levied troops in all parts of 'his dominions; he collected military- stores ; he contracted with the Swiss cantons for a considerable body of men ; he put his finances in admirable order ; he remitted considerable sums to the elector and landgrave ; and took all the other steps necessary towards commencing hostilities on the shortest warning, and with the greatest vigour* Operations so complicated, and which required the putting so many instruments in motion, did not escape the emperor's observation. He was early informed of Francis's intrigues in the several courts of Europe, as well as of his domestic preparations ; and sensible how fatal an interrup- tion a foreign war would prove to his designs in Germany, he trembled at the prospect of that event. The danger, however, appeared to him as unavoidable as it was great. He knew the insatiable and well directed ambition of Solyman, and that he always chose the season for beginning his military enterprises with prudence equal to the valour with which he conducted them. The pope, as he had good reason to believe, wanted not pretexts to justify a rupture, nor inclination to begin hostilities. He had already made some discovery of his sentiments, by expressing a joy alto- gether unbecoming the head of the church, upon receiving an account of the advantage which the elector of Saxony had gained over Albert of Brandenburg; and as he was now secure of finding, in the French king, an ally of sufficient power to support him, he was at no pains to conceal the violence and extent of his enmity. t The Venetians, Charles was well assured, had long observed the growth of his power with jealousy, which, added to the solicitations and promises of France, might at last quicken their slow counsels, and overcome their natural caution. The Danes and English, it was evident, had both peculiar reason to be disgusted, as well as strong motives to act against him. But above all, he dreaded the active emulation of Francis himself, whom he considered as the soul and mover of any confederacy that could be formed against him ; and as that monarch had afforded protection to Verrina, who sailed directly to Marseilles upon the miscarriage of Fiesco's conspiracy, Charles expected every moment to see the commencement of those hostile operations in Italy, of which he conceived the insurrection in Genoa to have been only the prelude. But while he remained in this state of suspense and solicitude, there was one circumstance which afforded him some prospect of avoiding the danger. The French king's health began to decline. A disease, which was the effect of his intemperance and inconsiderate pursuit of pleasure, preyed gradually on his constitution. The preparations for war, as well as the negotiations in the different courts, began to languish, together with the monarch who gave spirit to both. The Genoese, during that interval [March] reduced Montobbio, took Jerome Fiesco prisoner, and having put him to death, together with his chief adherents, extinguished all remains of the conspiracy. Several of the Imperial cities in Germany, despairing of timely assistance from France, submitted to the emperor. Even the landgrave seemed disposed to abandon the elector, and to bring matters to a speedy accommodation, on such terms as he could obtain. In the mean time, Charles waited with impatience the issue of a distemper, which was to decide whether he must relinquish all other schemes, in order to pre- pare for resisting a combination of the greater part of Europe against him. or whether he might proceed to invade Saxony, without interruption or fear of danger. The good fortune, so remarkably propitious to his family, that some historians have called it the Star of the House of Austria, did not desert him on this occasion. Francis died at Rambouillet, on the last day nt * Mem. de Ribier, i. 595. f (bid. 637. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 359 March, in the fifty-third year of his age, and the thirty-third of his reign. During twenty-eight years of that time, an avowed rivalship subsisted between him and the emperor, which involved not only their own domi- nions, but the greater part of Europe, in wars, which were prosecuted with more violent animosity, and drawn out to a greater length, than had been known in any former period. Many circumstances contributed to this. Their animosity was founded in opposition of interest, heightened by personal emulation, and exasperated not only by mutual injuries, but by reciprocal insults. At the same time, whatever advantage one seemed to possess towards gaining the ascendant, was wonderfully balanced by some favourable circumstance peculiar to the other. The emperor's do- minions were of greater extent, the French king's lay more compact^ Francis governed his kingdom with absolute power ; that of Charles was limited, but he supplied the want of authority by address : the troops of the former were more impetuous and enterprising ; those of the latter bet- ter disciplined, and more patient of fatigue. The talents and abilities of the two monarchs were as different as the advantages which they pos- sessed, and contributed no less to prolong the contest between them. Francis took his resolutions suddenly, prosecuted them at first with warmth, and pushed them into execution with a most adventurous courage ; but being destitute of the perseverance necessary to surmount difficulties, he often abandoned his designs, or relaxed the vigour of pursuit, from impa- tience, and sometimes from levity. Charles deliberated long, and deter- mined with coolness ; but having once fixed his plan, he adhered to it with inflexible obstinacy, and neither danger nor discouragement could turn him aside from the execution of it. The success of their enterprises was suitable to the diversity of their characters, and was uniformly influenced by it. Francis, by his impetuous activity, often disconcerted the emperor's best laid schemes ; Charles, by a more calm but steady prosecution of his designs, checked the rapidity of his rival's career, and baffled or repulsed bis most vigorous efforts. The former, at the opening of a war or of a campaign, broke in upon his enemy with the violence of a torrent, and carried all before him : the latter, waiting until he saw the force of his rival begin to abate, recovered in the end not only all that he had lost, but made new acquisitions. Few of the French monarch's attempts towards conquest, whatever promising aspect they might wear at first, were con- ducted to a happy issue ; many of the emperor's enterprises, even after they appeared desperate and impracticable, terminated in the most pros- perous manner. Francis was dazzled with the splendour of an underta- king ; Charles was allured by the prospect of its turning to his advantage. The degree, however, of their comparative merit and reputation has not been fixed either by a strict scrutiny into their abilities for government, or by an impartial consideration of the greatness and success of their undertakings ; and Francis is one of those monarchs who occupies a higher rank in the temple of Fame, than either his talents or performances entitle him to hold. This pre-eminence he owed to many different circumstances. The superiority which Charles acquired by the victory of Pavia, and which from that period he preserved through the remainder of his reign, was so manifest, that Francis's struggle against his exorbitant and growing dominion was viewed by most of the other powers, not only with the par- tiality which naturally arises for those who gallantly maintain an unequal contest, but with the favour due to one who was resisting a common enemy, and endeavouring to set bounds to a monarch equally formidable to them all. The characters of princes, too, especially among their con- temporaries, depend not only upon their talents for government, but upon their qualities as men. Francis, notwithstanding the many errors conspi- cuous in his foreign policy and domestic administration, was nevertheless humane, beneficent, and srenerons. He possessed dignity without pride : 360 THE REIGN OF THE HSook IX. affability free from meanness ; and courtesy exempt from deceit. All who had access to him, and no man of merit was ever denied that privilege, respected and loved him. Captivated with his personal qualities, his sub- jects forgot his defects as a monarch, and admiring him as the most accom- plished and amiable gentleman in his dominions, they hardly murmured at acts of maleadministration, which, in a prince of less engaging disposi- tions, would have been deemed unpardonable. This admiration, how- ever, must have been temporary only, and would have died away, with the courtiers, who bestowed it ; the illusion arising from his private virtues must have ceased, and posterity would have judged of his public conduct with its usual impartiality ; but another circumstance prevented this, and his name hath been transmitted to posterity with increasing reputation. Science and the arts had, at that time, made little progress in France. They were just beginning to advance beyond the limits of Italy, where they had revived, and which had hitherto been their only seat. Francis took them immediately under his protection, and vied with Leo himself, in the zeal and munificence with which he encouraged them. He invited learned men to his court, he conversed with them iamiliarly, he employed them in business, he raised them to offices of dignity, and honoured them with his confidence. That order of men, not more prone to complain when denied the respect to which they conceive themselves entitled, than apt to be pleased when treated with the distinction which they consider as their due, thought they could not exceed in gratitude to such a benefactor, and strained their invention, and employed all their ingenuity in panegyric. Succeeding authors, warmed with their descriptions of Francis's bounty, adopted their encomiums, and even added to them. The appellation of Father of Letters bestowed upon Francis, hath rendered his memory sacred among historians • and they seem to have regarded it as a sort of impiety to uncover his infirmities, or to point out his defects. Thus Francis, not- withstanding his inferior abilities, and want of success, hath more than equalled the fame of Charles. The good qualities which he possessed as a man, have entitled him to greater admiration and praise than have been bestowed upon the extensive £erniu'; ami fortunate arts of a more capable, but less amiable rival; By his death a considerable change was made in the state of Europe. Charles, grown old in the arts of government and command, had now to contend only with younger monarchs, who could not be regarded as worthy to enter the lists with him, who had stood so many encounters with Henry VIII. and Francis I., and come off with honour in all those different strug- gles. By this event, he was eased of all his disquietude, and was happy to find that he might begin with safety those operations against the elector of Saxony, which he had hitherto been obliged to suspend. He knew the abilities of Henry II., who had just mounted the throne of France, to be greatly inferior to those of his father, and foresaw that he would be so much occupied for some time in displacing the late king's ministers, whom he hated, and in gratifying the ambitious demands of his own favourites, that he had nothing to dread, either from his personal efforts, or from any confederacy which this inexperienced prince could form. But as it was uncertain how long such an interval of security might continue, Charles determined instantly to improve it : and as soon as he heard of Francis's demise, he began his march [April 13] from Egra on the borders of Bohemia. But the departure of the papal troops, together with the retreat of the Flemings, had so much diminished his army, that sixteen thousand men were all he could assemble. With this inconsidera- ble body he set out on an expedition, the event of which was to decide what degree of authority he should possess from that period in Germany ; but as this little army consisted chiefly of the veteran Spanish and Italian bands, he did not. in trusting to them, commit much to the decision of EMPEROR CHARLES V. 3ftl most sanguine hopes of success. The Elector had levied an army greatly- superior in number ; but neither the experience and discipline of his troops, nor the abilities of his officers, were to be compared with those ot the emperor. The elector, besides, had already been "guilty of an error, which deprived him of all the advantage which he might have derived from his superiority in number, and was alone sufficient to have occasioned his ruin. Instead of keeping his forces united, he detached one great body towards the frontiers of Bohemia, in order to facilitate his junction with the malecontents of that kingdom, and cantoned a considerable part of what remained in different places of. Saxony, where he expected the emperor .would make the first impression, vainly imagining that open towns, with small garrisons, might be rendered tenable against an enemy. The emperor entered the southern frontier of Saxony, and attacked Altorf upon the Elster. The impropriety of the measure which the elector had taken was immediately seen, the troops posted in that town surrendering without resistance ; and those in all the other places between that and the Elbe, either imitated their example, or fled as the Imperialists approached. Charles, that they might not recover from the panic with which they seemed to be struck, advanced without losing a moment. The elector, who had fixed his head quarters at Meissen, continued in his wonted state of fluctuation and uncertainty. He even became more unde- termined, in proportion as the danger drew near, and called for prompt and decisive resolutions. Sometimes he acted as if he had resolved to defend the banks of the Elbe, and to hazard a battle with the enemy, as soon as the detachments which he had called in were able to join him. At other times he abandoned this as rash and perilous, seeming to adopt the more prudent counsels of those who advised him to endeavour at pro- tracting the war, and for that end to retire under the fortifications oi YVittemherg, where the Imperialists could not attack him without manifest disadvantage, and where he might wait, in safety, for the succours which he expected from Mecklenburgh, Pomerania, and the protestant cities on the Baltic. Without fixing upon either of these plans, he broke down the bridge at Meissen, and marched along the east bank of the Elbe to Muhl- berg. There he deliberated anew, and, after much hesitation, adopted one of those middle schemes, which are always acceptable to feeble minds incapable of deciding. He left a detachment at Muhlberg to oppose the Imperialists, if they should attempt to pass at that place, and advancing a few miles with his main body, encamped there in expectation of the event, according to which he proposed to regulate his subsequent motions. Charles, meanwhile, pushing forward incessantly, arrived the evening of the twenty-third of April on the banks of the Elbe, opposite to Muhl- berg. The river, at that place, was three hundred paces in breadth, above four feet in depth, its current rapid, and the bank possessed by the Saxons was higher than that which he occupied. Undismayed, however, by all these obstacles, he called together his general officers, and, without asking their opinions, communicated to them his intention of attempting next morning to force his passage over the river, and to attack the enemy wherever he could come up with them. They all expressed their astonish- ment at such a bold resolution ; and even the duke of Alva, though naturally daring and impetuous, and Maurice of Saxony, notwithstanding his impa- tience to crush his rival the elector, remonstrated earnestly against it. But the emperor, confiding in his own judgment or good fortune, paid no regard to their arguments, and gave the orders necessary for executing his designs. Early in the morning a body of Spanish and Italian foot marched towards the river, and be?an an incessant fire upon the enemy. The long heavy muskets used in that age, did execution on the opposite bank, and many Vor,. If.— 4R 362 THE REIGN OF THE [Book IX. of the soldiers, hurried on by martial ardour, in order to get nearer the enemy, rushed into the stream, and, advancing breast high, fired with a more certain aim, and with greater effect. Under cover of their fire, a bridge of boats was begun to be laid for the infantry ; and a peasant having undertaken to conduct the cavalry through the river by a ford with which he was well acquainted, they also were put in motion. The Saxons posted in Muhlberg endeavoured to obstruct these operations by a brisk fire from a battery which they had erected ; but as a thick tog covered all the low grounds upon the river, they could not take aim with any certainty, and the Imperialists suffered very iittle ; at the same time the Saxons being much galled by the Spaniards and Italians, they sel on fire some boats which had been collected near the village, and prepared to retire. The Imperialists perceiving this, ten Spanish soldiers instantl)' stript themselves, and holding their swords with their teeth, swam across the river, put to flight such of the Saxons as ventured to oppose them, saved from the flames as many boats as were sufficient to complete their own bridge, and by this spirited and successful action, encouraged their companions no less than they intimidated the enemy. By this time the cavalry, each trooper having a foot soldier behind him, began to enter the river, the light horse marching in the front, followed by the men at arms, whom the emperor led in person, mounted on a Spanish horse, dressed in a sumptuous habit, and carrying a javelin in his hand. Such a numerous body struggling through a great river, in which, according to the directions of their guide, they were obliged to make several turns, sometimes treading on a firm bottom, sometimes swimming, presented to their companions, whom they left behind, a spectacle equally magnificent and interesting.* Their courage, at last, surmounted every obstacle, no man betraying any symptom of fear, when the emperor shared in the danger no less than the meanest soldier. The moment that they reached the opposite side, Charles, without waiting the arrival of the rest of the infantry, advanced towards the Saxons with the troops which had passed along with him, who, flushed with their good fortune, and despising an enemy who had neglected to oppose them, when it might have been done with such advantage, made no account of their superior numbers, and marched on as to a certain victory. During all these operations, which necessarily consumed much time, the elector remained inactive in his camp ; and from an infatuation which appears to be so amazing, that the best informed historians impute it to the treacherous arts of nis generals, who deceived him by false intelli- gence, he would not believe that the emperor had passed the river, or could be so near at hand.t Being convinced, at last, of his fatal mistake, by the concurring testimony of eye-witnesses, he gave orders for retreating towards Wittemberg. But a German army, encumbered, as usual, with baggage and artillery, could not be put suddenly in motion. They had just begun to march when the light troops of the enemy came in view, and the elector saw an engagement to be unavoidable. As he was no less bold in action than irresolute in council, he made the disposition for battle with the greatest presence of mind, and in the most proper manner, taking advantage of a great forest to cover his wings, so as to prevent his being surrounded by the enemy's cavalry, which were far more numerous than his own. The emperor, likewise, ranged his men in order as they came up, and riding along the ranks, exhorted them with few but efficacious words to do their duty. It was with a very different spirit that the two armies advanced to the charge. As the day, which had hitherto been dark and cloudy, happened to cleaT up at that moment, this accidental circumstance made an impression on the different parties corresponding to * Avffe, J J5. a. t Catwrsir. np. Freher. iii. 493. Btruv. Corp. Hist. G^rro. 1047. 1049 EMPEROR CHARLES V. S63 the tone of their minds ; the Saxons, surprised and disheartened, felt pain at being exposed fully to the view of the enemy ; the Imperialists, being now secure that the protestant forces could not escape from them, rejoiced at the return of sunshine, as a certain presage of victory. The shock ot battle would not have been long doubtful, it the personal courage which the elector displayed, together with the activity which he exerted irom the moment that the approach of the enemy rendered an engagement cer- tain, and cut off all possibility of hesitation, had not revived in some degree the spirit of his troops. They repulsed the Hungarian light-horse who began the attack, and received with firmness the men at arms who next advanced to the charge ; but as these were the flower of the Imperial army, were commanded by experienced officers, and fought under the emperor's eye, the Saxons soon began to give way, and the light troops rallying at the same time, and falling on their flanks, the flight became general. A small body of chosen soldiers, among whom the elector had fought in person, still continued to defend themselves, and endeavoured to save their master by retiring into the forest ; but being surrounded on every side, the elector wounded in the face, exhausted with fatigue, and per- ceiving all resistance to be vain, surrendered himself a prisoner. He was conducted immediately towards the emperor, whom he found just returned from the pursuit, standing on the field of battle in the full exultation ot success, and receiving the congratulations of his officers, upon this complete victory obtained by his valour and conduct. Even in such an unfortunate and humbling situation, the elector's behaviour was equally magnanimous and decent. Sensible of his condition, he approached his conqueror with- out any of the sullenness or pride which would have been improper in a captive ; and conscious of his own dignity, he descended to no mean sub- mission, unbecoming the high station which he held among the German princes. " The fortune of war," said he, " has made me your prisoner, most gracious emperor, and I hope to be treated" Here Charles harshly interrupted him : " And am I then, at last, acknowledged to be emperor? Charles of Ghent was the only title you lately allowed me. You shall be treated as you deserve." At these words he turned from him abruptly with a haughty air. To this cruel repulse, the king of the Romans added reproaches in his own name, using expressions still more ungenerous and insulting. The elector made no reply ; but, with an unaltered countenance, which discovered neither astonishment nor dejection, accompanied the Spanish soldiers appointed to guard him.* This decisive victory cost the Imperialists only fifty men. Twelve hun- dred of the Saxons were killed, chiefly in the pursuit, and a greater number taken prisoners. About four hundred kept in a body, and escaped to Wittemberg, together with the electoral prince, who had likewise been wounded in the action. After resting two days in the field of battle, partly to refresh his army, and partly to receive the deputies of the adja- cent towns, which were impatient to secure his protection by submitting to his will, the emperor began to move towards Wittemberg, that he might terminate the war at once, by the reduction of that city. The unfortunate elector was carried along in a sort of triumph, and exposed every where, as a captive, to his own subjects ; a spectacle extremely afflicting to them, who both honoured and loved him ; though the insult was so far from sub- duing his firm spirit, that it did not even ruffle the wonted tranquillity and composure of his mind. As Wittemberg, the residence, in that age, of the electoral branch of the Saxon family, was one of the strongest cities in Germany, and could not. be taken, if properly defended, without great difficulty, the emperov * Sleid. Hist. 42G. Tliuan. 136. Horlensius de Bello German, ap. Scatd. vol. ii. 498. Desolr-t, Pngiiaj Mulbere. ibid. p. 509. P. HwnVr. Rer. A«str. lib. xli. r. 13. p. 298. 364 THE REIGN OF THE [Book IX. marched thither with the utmost despatch, hoping that while the conster- nation occasioned by his victory was still recent, the inhabitants might imitate the example of their countrymen, and submit to his power, as soon as he appeared before their walls. But Sybilla of Cleves, the elector's wife, a woman no less distinguished by her abilities than her virtue, instead of abandoning herself to tears and lamentations upon her husband's mis- fortune, endeavoured by her example as well as exhortations, to animate the citizens. She inspired them with such resolution, that, when summoned to surrender, they returned a vigorous answer, warning the emperor to behave towards their sovereign with the respect due to his rank, as they were determined to treat Albert of Brandenburg, who was still a prisoner, precisely in the same manner that he treated the elector. The spirit of the inhabitants, no less than the strength of the city, seemed now to render a siege in form necessary. After such a signal victory, it would have been disgraceful not to have undertaken it, though at the same time the emperor was destitute of every thing requisite for carrying it on. But Maurice removed all difficulties by engaging to furnish provisions, artillery, ammu- nition, pioneers, and whatever else should be needed. Trusting to this. Charles gave orders to open the trenches before the town. It quickly ap- peared, that Maurice's eagerness to reduce the capital of those dominions, which he expected as his reward for taking arms against his kinsman, and deserting the protestant cause, had led him to promise what exceeded his power to perform. A battering train was, indeed, carried safely down the Elbe from Dresden to Wittemberg ; but as Maurice had not sufficient force to preserve a secure communication between his own territories and the camp of the besiegers, count Mansfeldt, who commanded a body of elec- toral troops, intercepted and destroyed a convoy of provisions and military stores, and dispersed a band of pioneers destined for the service of the Imperialists. This put a stop to the progress of the siege, and convinced the emperor, that as he could not rely on Maurice's promises, recourse ought to be had to some more expeditious as well as more certain method of getting possession of the town. The unfortunate elector was in his hands and Charles was ungenerous and hard-hearted enough to take advantage of this, in order to make an experiment whether he might not bring about his design, by working upon the tenderness of a wife for her husband, or upon the piety of children -towards their parent. With this view, he summoned Sybilla a second time to open the gates, letting her know that if she again refused to comply, the elector should answer with his head for her obstinacy To convince her that this was not an empty threat, he brought his prisoner to an imme- diate trial. The proceedings against him were as irregular as the stratagem was barbarous. Instead of consulting the states of the empire, or remit- ting the cause to any court, which, according to the German constitution, might have legally taken cognizance of the elector's crime, he subjected the greatest prince in the empire to the jurisdiction of a court-martial, composed of Spanish and Italian officers, and in which the unrelenting duke of Alva, a fit instrument for any act of violence, presided [May 10]. This strange tribunal founded its chaige upon the ban of the empire which had been issued against the prisoner by the sole authority of the emperor, and was destitute of every legal formality which could render it valid. But the court-martial, presuming the elector to be thereby manifestly con- victed of treason and rebellion, condemned him to suffer death by being beheaded. This decree was intimated to the elector while he was amusing himself in playing at chess with Ernest of Brunswick his fellow-prisoner. He paused for a moment, though without discovering any symptom either of surprise or terror ; and after taking notice of the irregularity as well as injustice of the emperor's proceedings : " It is easy, continued he, to com- prehend his scheme. I must die. because Wittemberg will not surrender ; EMPEROR CHARLES V. 36£> and I shall lay down my life with pleasure, if, by that sacrifice, I can pre- serve the dignity of my house, and transmit to my posterity the inheritance which belongs to them. Would to God that this sentence may not affect my wife and children more than it intimidates me! and that they, for the sake of adding a few days to a life already too long, may not renounce honours and territories which they were born to possess!"* He then turned to his antagonist, whom he challenged to continue the game. He played with his usual attention and ingenuity, and having beat Ernest, expressed all the satisfaction which is commonly felt on gaining such victo- ries. After this, he withdrew to his own apartment, that he might employ the rest of his time in such religious exercises as were proper in his situation.! It was not with the same indifference, or composure, that the account of the elector's danger was received in Wittemberg. Sybilla, who had supported with such undaunted fortitude her husband's misfortunes, while she imagined that they could reach no farther than to diminish his power or territories, felt all her resolution fail as soon as his life was threatened. Solicitous to save that, she despised every other consideration ; and was willing to make any sacrifice, in order to appease an incensed conqueror. At the same time, the duke of Cleves, the elector of Brandenburg, and Maurice, to none of whom Charles had communicated the true motives of his violent proceedings against the elector, interceded warmly with him to spare his life. The first was prompted so to do merely in compassion for his sister, and regard for his brother-in-law. The two others dreaded the universal reproach that they would incur, if, after having boasted so often of the ample security which the emperor had promised them with respect to their religion, the first effect of their union with him should be the public execution of a prince, who was justly held in reverence as the most zealous protector of the protestant cause. Maurice, in particular, foresaw that he must become the object of detestation to the Saxons, and could never hope to govern them with tranquillity, if he were considered by them as accessary to the death of his nearest kinsman, in order that he might obtain possession of his dominions. While they, from such various motives, solicited Charles, with {he most earnest importunity, not to execute the sentence ; Sybilla, and his chil- dren, conjured the elector, by letters as well as messengers, to scruple at no concession that would extricate him out of the present danger, and deliver them from their fears and anguish on his account. The emperor, perceiving that the expedient which he had tried began to produce the effect that he intended, fell by degrees from his former rigour, and allowed himself to soften into promises of clemency and forgiveness, if the elector would show himself worthy of his favour, by submitting to reasonable terms. The elector, on whom the consideration of what he might suffer himself had made no impression, was melted by the tears of his wife whom he loved, and could not resist the entreaties of his family. In compliance with their repeated solicitations, he agreed to articles of accommodation [May 19], which he would otherwise have rejected with disdain. Tin- chief of them were, that he should resign the electoral dignity, as well for himself as for his posterity, into the emperor's hands, to be disposed of entirely at his pleasure ; that he should instantly put the Imperial troops in possession of the cities of Wittemberg andGotha; that he should set Albert of Brandenburg at liberty without ransom ; that he should submit to the decrees of the Imperial chamber, and acquiesce in whatever reforma- tion the emperor should make in the constitution of that court ; that he should renounce all leagues against the emperor or king of the Romans, and enter into no alliance for the future, in which they were not comprehended . * Thuan. ill? ■;• StravU Corpus, 1050 36tt THE REIGN OF THE [Book IX. In return for these important concessions, the emperor not only promised to spare his life, but to settle on him and his posterity the city of Gotfaa and its territories, together with an annual pension of fifty thousand florins, pay- able out of the revenues of the electorate ; and likewise to grant him a sum in ready money to be applied towards the discharge of his debts. Even these articles of grace were clogged with the mortifying condition of his remaining the emperor's prisoner during the rest of his life.* To the whole, Charles had subjoined, that he should submit to the decrees of the pope and council with regard to the controverted points in religion ; but the elector, though he had been persuaded to sacrifice all the objects which men commonly hold to be the dearest and most valuable, was in- flexible with regard to this point ; and neither threats nor entreaties could prevail to make him renounce what he deemed to be truth, or persuade him to act in opposition to the dictates of his conscience. As soon as the Saxon garrison marched out of Wjttemberg, the emperor fulfilled his engagements to Maurice ; and in reward for his merit in having deserted the protestant cause, and having contributed with such success towards the dissolution of the Smalkaldic league, he gave him possession of that city, together with all the other towns in the electorate. It was not without reluctance, however, that he made such a sacrifice ; the ex- traordinary success of his arms had begun to operate in its usual manner, upon his ambitious mind, suggesting new and vast projects for the aggran- dizement of his family, towards the accomplishment of which the retain- ing of Saxony would have been of the utmost consequence. But as this scheme was not then ripe for execution, he durst not yet venture to dis- close it ; nor would it have been either safe or prudent to offend Maurice at this juncture, by such a manifest violation of all the promises which had seduced him to abandon his natural allies. The landgrave, Maurice's father-in-law, was still in arms ; and though now left alone to maintain the protestant cause, was neither a feeble nor contemptible enemy. His dominions were of considerable extent : his subjects animated with zeal for the reformation ; and if he could have held the Imperialists at bay for a short time, he had much to hope from a party whose strength was still unbroken, whose union as well as vigour might return, and which had reason to depend, with certainty, on being effectually supported by the king of France. The landgrave thought not of any thing so bold or adventurous ; but being seized with the same con- sternation which had taken possession of his associates, he was intent only on the means of procuring favourable terms from the emperor whom he viewed as a conqueror, to whose will there was a necessity of submitting. Maurice encouraged this tame and pacific spirit, by magnifying, on the one hand, the emperor's power ; by boasting, on the other, of his own interest with his victorious ally ; and by representing the advantageous conditions which he could not fail of obtaining by his intercession for a friend, whom he was so solicitous to save. Sometimes the landgrave was induced to place such unbounded confidence in his promises, that he was impatient to bring matters to a final accommodation. On other occasions, the emperor's exorbitant ambition, restrained neither by the scruples of decency, nor the maxims of justice, together with the recent and shocking proof which he had given of this in his treatment of the elector of Saxony, came so full into his thoughts, and made such a lively impression on them, that be broke off abruptly the negotiations which he had begun ; seeming to be con- vinced that it was more prudent to depend for safety on his own arms than to confide in Charles's generosity. But this bold resolution, which despair had suggested to an impatient spirit, fretted by disappointments. vis not of long continuance. Upon a more deliberate survey ofc tl^ " Sldid. est. Thuan: i- 14e. Du Mont, Corps Diplorn. iv. f. 11. 332> EMPEROR CHARLES V. 367 enemy's power, as well as his own weakness, his doubts and tears returned upon him, and together with them the spirit of negotiating, and the desire of accommodation. Maurice and the elector of Brandenburg acted as mediators between him and the emperor ; and after all that the former had vaunted of his influ- ence, the conditions prescribed to the landgrave were extremely rigorous. The articles with regard to his renouncing the league ot Smalkalde, ac- knowledging the emperor's authority, and submitting to the decrees of the Imperial chamber, were the same which had been imposed on the elector of Saxony. Besides these, he was required to surrender his person and territories to the emperor ; to implore for pardon on his knees ; to pay a hundred and fifty thousand crowns towards defraying the expenses of the war ; to demolish the fortifications of all the towns in his dominions except one ; to oblige the garrison which he placed in it to take an oath of fidelity to the emperor ; to allow a free passage through his territories to the Im- perial troops as often as it shall be demanded; to deliver up all his artil Jery and ammunition to the emperor ; to set at liberty, without ransom, Henry of Brunswick, together with the other prisoners whom he had taken during the war ; and neither to take arms himself, nor to permit any of his subjects to serve against the emperor or his allies for the future .* The landgrave ratified these articles, though with the utmost reluctance, as they contained no stipulation with regard to the manner in which he was to be treated, and left him entirely at the emperor's mercy. Necessity, however, compelled him to give his assent to them. Charles, who had assumed the haughty and imperious tone of a conqueror, ever since the re- duction of Saxony, insisted on unconditional submission, and would permit nothing to be added to the terms which he had prescribed, that could in any degree limit the fulness of his power, or restrain him from behaving as he saw meet towards a prince whom he regarded as absolutely at his dis- posal. But though he would not vouchsafe to negotiate with the landgrave on such a footing of equality, as to suffer any article to be inserted among those which he had dictated to him, that could be considered as a formal stipulation for the security and freedom of his own person ; he, or his mi- nisters in his name, gave the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice such ful! satisfaction with regard to this point, that they assured the landgrave, that Charles would behave to him in the same way as he had done to the duke of Wurtemberg, and would allow him, whenever he had made his sub- mission, to return to his own territories. Upon finding the landgrave to be still possessed with his former suspicions of the emperor's intentions, and unwilling to trust verbal or ambiguous declarations, in a matter of such essential concern as his own liberty, they sent him a bond signed by them both, containing the most solemn obligations, that if any violence whatso- ever was offered to his person, during his interview with the emperor, they would instantly surrender themselves to his sons, and remain in their hands to be treated by them in the same manner as the emperor should treat him.t This, together with the indispensable obligation of performing what was contained in the articles of which he had accepted, removed his doubts and scruples, or made it necessary to get over them. He repaired for that purpose, to the Imperial camp at Halle in Saxony, where a circumstance occurred which revived his suspicions and increased his fears. Just as he was about to enter the chamber of presence, in order to make his pub- lic submission to the emperor, a copy of the articles which he had ap- Coved of was put into his hands, in order that he might ratify them anew, pon perusing them, he perceived that the imperial ministers had added two new articles ; one importing, that if any dispute should arise concem- • Sleid. 430. Tliuon. I. iv. 146. ,- Jfont, Corps Dlploob iv. p. 11 336 36» THE REIGN OF THE [Book IX. ing the meaning of the former conditions, the emperor should have the right of putting what interpretation upon them he thought post reason- able ; the other, that the landgrave was bound to submit implicitly to the decisions of the council of 1 rent. This unworthy artifice, calculated to surprise him into an approbation of articles, to which he had not the most distant idea of assenting, by proposing them to him at a time when his mind was engrossed and disquieted with the thoughts of that humiliating ceremony which he had to perform, filled the landgrave with indignation, and made him break out into all those violent expressions of rage to which his temper was prone. With some difficulty, the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice prevailed at length on the emperor's ministers to drop the former article as unjust, and to explain the latter in such a manner that he could agree to it, without openly renouncing the protestant religion. This obstacle being surmounted, the landgrave was impatient to finish a ceremony which, how mortifying soever, had been declared necessary towards his obtaining pardon. The emperor was seated on a magnificent throne, with all the ensigns of his dignity, surrounded by a numerous train of the princes of the empire, among whom was Henry oi Brunswick, lately the landgrave's prisoner, and now, by a sudden reverse of fortune, a spec- tator of his humiliation. The landgrave was introduced with great solem- nity, and advancing towards the throne, fell upon his knees. His chancellor, who walked behind him, immediately read, by his master's command, a paper which contained an humble confession of the crime whereof he had been guilty ; an acknowledgment that he had merited on that account the most severe punishment ; an absolute resignation of himself and his domi- nions to be disposed of at the emperor's pleasure ; a submissive petition for pardon, his hopes of which were founded entirely on the emperor's clemency ; and it concluded with promises of behaving, for the future, like a subject whose principles of loyalty and obedience would be confirmed, and would even derive new force from the sentiments of gratitude which must hereafter fill and animate his heart. While the chancellor was reading this abject declaration, the eyes of all the spectators were fixed on the unfortunate landgrave ; few could behold a prince, so powerful as well as high-spirited, suing for mercy ifethe posture of a suppliant, without being touched with commiseration, ana perceiving serious reflections arise in their minds upon the instability and emptiness of human grandeur. The emperor viewed the whole transaction with a haughty unfeeling composure ; and preserving a profound silence himself, made a sign to one of his secretaries to read his answer : the tenor of which was, That though he might have justly inflicted on him the grievous punishment which his crimes deserved, yet, prompted by bis own generosity, moved by the solicitations ol several princes in behalf of the landgrave, and influenced by his penitential ac- knowledgments, he would not deal with him according to the rigour of justice, and would subject him to no penalty that was not specified in the articles which he had already subscribed. The moment the secretary had finished, Charles turned away abruptly, without deigning to give the unhappy suppliant any sign of compassion or reconcilement. He did not even desire him to rise from his knees ; which the landgrave having ventured to do unbidden, advanced towards the emperor with an intention to kiss his hand, flattering himself, that his guilt being now fully expiated, he might presume to take that liberty. But the elector of Brandenburg, per- ceiving that this familiarity would be offensive to the emperor, interposed. and desired the landgrave to go along with him and Maurice to the duke of Alva's apartments in the castle. He was received and entertained by that nobleman with the respect and courtesy due to such a guest. But after supper, while he was engaged in play, the duke took the elector and Maurice aside, and communicated to dt*»m the emperor's orders, that the landgrave must remain a prisoner EMPEROR CHARLES V. 369 in that place under the custody of a Spanish guard. As they had not hitherto entertained the most distant suspicion of the emperor's sincerity or rectitude of intention, their surprise was excessive, and their indignation not interior to it, on discovering how greatly they had been deceived them: selves, and how infamously abused, in having been made the instruments ot deceiving and ruining their friend. They had recourse to complaints, to arguments, and to entreaties, in order to save themselves from that disgrace, and to extricate him out of the wretched situation into which he had been betrayed by too great confidence in them. But the duke oi Alva remained inflexible, and pleaded the necessity of executing the emperor's commands. By this time it grew late, and the landgrave, who knew nothing of what had passed, nor dreaded the snare in which he was entangled, prepared for departing, when the fatal orders were intimated to him. He was struck dumb at first with astonishment, but after being silent a few moments, he broke out into all the violent expressions which horror, at injustice accom- panied with fraud, naturally suggests. He complained, he expostulated, he exclaimed ; sometimes inveighing against the emperor's artifices as unworthy of a great and generous prince ; sometimes censuring the credu- lity of his friends in trusting to Charles's insidious promises ; sometimes charging them with meanness in stooping to lend their assistance towards the execution of such a perfidious and dishonourable scheme ; and in the end he required them to remember their engagements to his children, and instantly to fulfil them. They, after giving way for a little to the torrent of his passion, solemnly asserted their own innocence and upright intention in the whole transaction, and encouraged him to hope, that as soon as they saw the emperor, they would obtain redress of an injury which affected their own honour, no less than it did his liberty. At the same time, in order to soothe his rage and impatience, Maurice remained with him during the night in the apartment where he was confined.* Next morning, the elector and Maurice applied jointly to the emperor, representing the infamy to which they would be exposed throughout Ger- many, if the landgrave were detained in custody ; that they would not have advised, nor would he himself have consented to an interview, if they had suspected that the loss of his liberty was to be the consequence of his sub- mission ; that they were bound to procure his release, having plighted their faith to that effect, and engaged their own persons as sureties for his. Charles listened to their earnest remonstrances with the utmost coolness. As he now stood no longer in need of their services, they had the mortifi- cation to find that their former obsequiousness was forgotten, and little regard paid to their intercession. He was ignorant, he told them, of their parti- cular or private transactions with the landgrave, nor was his conduct to be regulated by any engagements into which they had thought fit to enter; though he knew well what he himself had promised, which was not that the landgrave should be exempt from all restraint, but that he should not be kept a prisoner during life.f Having said this with a peremptory and decisive tone, he put an end to the conference ; and they seeing no proba- * Sleid. 433. Thuan. I. iv. 147. Slruv. Corp. Hist. Germ. ii. 1052. t According to several historians of great name, the emperor in his treaty with the landgrave, stipulated that he would not detain him in any prison. But in executing the deed, which was written in the German tongue, the Imperial ministers fraudulently substituted the word ewiger, instead of einitrrr, and thus the treaty, in place of a promise that he should not be detained in any prison, con- tained only an engagement that he should not be detained in perpetual imprisonment. But authors, eminent lor historical knowledge and critical accuracy, have called in question the truth of this Common story. The silence of Sleidan with regard to it, as well as its not being mentioned in the various memorials which he has published concerning the landgrave's imprisonment, greatly favour this opinion. But as several books which contain the information necessary towards discussing this point with accuracy, are written in the German lancuage, which I do not understand, I cannot pre- tend to inquire into this matter with the same precision wherewith I have endeavoured to settle some other controverted facts which have occurred in the course of this history. See Struv. Corp. 1052. Mosheim's Ecdes. Hist. vol. Ii. j.. IraromPTam» TjiiCPmbnrsn ripsrript.i. ap. SVardium. ii. .W. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 379 be so intoxicated with a single victory, as to imagine that he might give law to mankind, and decide even in those matters, with regaid to which they are most impatient of dominion. He saw that by joining any one of the contending parties in Germany, Charles might have had it in his power to have oppressed the other, but that the presumption of success had now inspired him with the vain thought of his being able to domineer over both. He foretold that a system which all attacked, and none defended, could not be of long duration; and that, for this reason, there was no need ot his interposing in order to hasten its fall ; for as soon as the powerful hand which now upheld it was withdrawn, it would sink oi its own accord, and be forgotten, for ever.* The emperor, fond of his own plan, adhered to his resolution ot carry- ing it into full execution. But though the elector Palatine, the elector of Brandenburg, and Maurice, influenced by the same considerations as formerly, seemed ready to yield implicit obedience to whatever he should enjoin, he met not everywhere with a like obsequious submission. John marquis of Brandenburg Anspach, although he had taken part with great zeal in the war against the confederates of Smalkalde, refused to renounce doctrines which he held to be sacred ; and reminding the emperor of the repeated promises which he had given his protestant allies, of allowing them the free exercise of their religion, he claimed, in consequence ot these, to be exempted from receiving the Interim. Some other princes, also, ventured to mention the same scruples, and to plead the same indul- gence. But on this, as on other trying occasions, the firmness of the elector of Saxony was most distinguished, and merited the highest praise. Charles, well knowing the authority of his example with all the protestant party, laboured with the utmost earnestness, to gain his approbation of the Interim, and by employing sometimes promises of setting him at liberty, sometimes threats of treating him with greater harshness, attempted alter- nately to work upon his hopes and his fears. But he was alike regardless of both. After having declared his fixed belief in the doctrines of the reformation, " I cannot now," said he, " in my old age, abandon the prin- ciples for which I early contended ; nor, in order to procure freedom during a few declining years, will I betray that good cause, on account of which I have suffered so much, and am still willing to suffer. Better for me to enjoy, in this solitude, the esteem of virtuous men, together with the approbation of my own conscience, than to return into the world, with the imputation and guilt of apostacy, to disgrace and embitter the remain- der of my days." By this magnanimous resolution, he set his countrymen a pattern of conduct so very different from that which the emperor wishsd him to have exhibited to them, that it drew upon him fresh marks of his displeasure. The rigour of his confinement was increased ; the number of his servants abridged ; the Lutheran clergymen, who had hitherto been permitted to attend him, were dismissed ; and even the books of devotion, which had been his chief consolation during a tedious imprisonment, were taken from him.t The landgrave of Hesse, his companion in misfortune! did not maintain the same constancy. His patience and fortitude were both so much exhausted by the length of his confinement, that, willing to purchase freedom at any price, he wrote to the emperor, offering not only to approve of the Interim, but to yield an unreserved submission to his will in eveiy other particular. But Charles who knew that whatever course the landgrave might hold, neither his example nor his authority would prevail on his children or subjects to receive the Interim, paid no regard to his offers. He was kept confined as strictly as ever; and while he suffered the cruel mortification of having his conduct set in contrast to that of the elector, he derived not the smallest benefit from the mean step which exposed him to such deserved censure.J * Sleirt. 4fi«. F. Paul. 271 Q7T. Pallnv. ii, fi4. t SleM. 465. t Wd, 3bO THE REIGN OF THE [Book IX. But it was in the Imperial cities that Charles met with the most violent opposition to the Interim. These small commonwealths, the citizens of which were accustomed to liberty and independence, had embraced the doctrines of the reformation when they were first published, with remarka- ble eagerness ; the bold spirit of innovation being peculiarly suited to the genius of free government. Among them, the protestant teachers had made the greatest number of proselytes. The most eminent divines of the party were settled in them as pastors. By having the direction of the schools and other seminaries of learning, they had trained up disciples, who were as well instructed in the articles oi their faith, as they were zealous to defend them. Such persons were not to be guided by example, or swayed by authority ; but having been taught to employ their own understanding in examining and deciding with respect to the points in controversy, they thought that they were both qualified and entitled to judge for themselves. As soon as the contents of the Interim were known, they, with one voice, joined in refusing to admit it. Augsburg, Ulm, Strasburg, Constance, Bremen, Magdeburg, together with many other fowns of less note, presented remonstrances to the emperor, setting forth the irregular and unconstitutional manner in which the Interim had been enacted, and beseeching him not to offer such violence to their consciences, as to require their assent to a form of doctrine and worship, which appeared to them repugnant to the express precepts of the divine law. But Charles having prevailed on so many princes of the empire to approve of his new model, was not much moved by the representations of those cities, which, how formidable soever they might have proved, if they could have been formed into one body, lay so remote from each other, that it was easy to oppress them separately, before it was possible for them to unite. In order to accomplish this, the emperor saw it to be requisite that his measures should be vigorous, and executed with such rapidity as to allow no time for concerting any common plan of opposition. Having laid down this maxim as the rule of his proceedings, his first attempt was upon the city of Augsburg, which, though overawed by the presence of the Spanish troops, he knew to be as much, dissatisfied with the Interim as any in the empire. He ordered one body of these troops to seize the gates ; he posted the rest in different quarters of the city; and assembling all the burgesses in the town-hall [Aug. 3], he, by his sole absolute authority, published a decree abolishing their present form of government, dissolving all their corporations and fraternities, and nominating a small number of persons, in whom he vested for the future all the powers of government. Each of the persons, thus chosen, took an oath to observe the Interim. An act of power so unprecedented as well as arbitrary, which excluded the body ot the inhabitants from any share in the government of their own community, and subjected them to men who had no other merit than their servile devotion to the emperor's will, gave general disgust; but as they durst not venture upon resistance, they were obliged to submit in silence.* From Augsbuig, in which he left a garrison, he proceeded to Ulm, and new-modelled its government with the same violent hand ; he seized such of their pastors as refused to subscribe the Interim, committed them to prison, and at his departure carried them along with him in chains.t By this severity he not only secured the reception of the Interim, in two ot the most powerful cities, but gave warning to the rest what such as continued reiactory had to expect. The effect of the example was as great as he could have wished ; and many towns, in order to save themselves from the like treatment, found it necessary to comply with what he en- joined. This obedience, extorted by the rigour of authority, produced no change in the sentiments of the Germans, and extended no farther than to make them conform so far to what he required, as was barely sufficient to EMPEROR CHARLES V. 381 screen them from punishment. The protestant preachers accompanied those religious rites, the observation of which the Interim prescribed, with such an explication of their tendency, as served rather to confirm than to remove the scruples of their hearers with regard to them. The people, many of whom had grown up to mature years since the establishment of the reformed religion, and never known any other form of public worship, beheld the pompous pageantry of the popish service with contempt or horror ; and in most places the Romish ecclesiastics who returned to take possession of their churches, could hardly be protected from insult, or their ministrations from interruption. Thus, notwithstanding the apparent com- pliance of so many cities, the inhabitants being accustomed to freedom, submitted with reluctance to the power which now oppressed them. Their u lderstanding as well as inclination revolted against the doctrines and ceremonies imposed on them ; and though, for the present, they con- cealed their disgust and resentment, it was evident that these passions could not always be kept under restraint, but would break out at last in effects proportional to their violence.* Charles, however, highly pleased with having bent the stubborn spirit of the Germans to such general submission, departed for the Low-Countries, fully determined to compel the cities, which still stood out, to receive tho Interim. He carried his two prisoners, the elector of Saxony and land- frave of Hesse, along with him, either because he durst not leave them ehind him in Germany, or because he wished to give his countiymen the Flemings this illustrious proof of the success of his arms, and the extent of his power. Before Charles arrived at Brussels [Sept. 17], he was informed that the pope's legates at Bologna had dismissed the council by an indefinite prorogation, and that the prelates assembled there had returned to their respective countries. Necessity had driven the pope into this measure. By the secession of those who had voted against the trans- lation, together with the departure of others, who grew weary of continuing in a place where they were not suffered to proceed to business, so few and such inconsiderable members remained, that the pompous appellation of a General Council could not, with decency, be bestowed any longer upon them. Paul had no choice but to dissolve an assembly which was become the object of contempt, and exhibited to all Christendom a most glaring proof of the impotence of the Romish see. But unavoidable as the mea- sure was, it lay open to be unfavourably interpreted, and had the appear- ance of withdrawing the remedy, at the very time when those for whose recovery it was provided, were prevailed on to acknowledge its virtue, and to make trial of its efficacy. Charles did not fail to put this con- struction on the conduct of the pope ; and by an artful comparison of his own efforts to suppress heresy, with Paul's scandalous inattention to a point so essential, he endeavoured to render the pontiff odious to all zealous catholics. At the same time he commanded the prelates of his faction to remain at Trent, that the council might still appear to have a being, and might be ready, whenever it was thought expedient, to resume its delibe- rations for the good of the church. | The motive of Charles's journey to the Low-Countries, besides gratifying his favourite passion of travelling from one part of his dominions to another, was to receive Philip his only son, who was now in the twenty-first year cf his age, and whom he had called thither, not only that he might be recognised by the states of the Netherlands as heir-apparent, but in order to facilitate the execution of a vast scheme, the object of which, and the reception it met with, shall be hereafter explained. Philip having left the government of Spain to Maximilian, Ferdinand's eldest son, to whom the emperor had given the princess Mary his daughter in marriage, embarked * Mem. de Kibier, ii. 21S. Sleid. 491 f Paltnv. p. 11. 72. 3&2 THE REIGN OF THE (Book X. for Italy, attended by a numerous retinue of Spanish nobles.* The squadron which escorted him, was commanded by Andrew Doria, who, notwith- standing his advanced age, insisted on the honour of performing, in person, the same duty to the son, which he had often discharged towards the father. He landed safely at Genoa [Nov. 25] ; from thence he went to Milan, and proceeding through Germany, arrived at the Imperial court in Brussels [April 1, 1549]. The states of Brabant, in the first place, and those of the other provinces in their order, acknowledged his right of suc- cession in common form, and he took the customary oath to preserve all their privileges inviolate.t In all the towns of the Low-Countries through which Philip passed, he was received with extraordinary pomp. Nothing that could either express the respect of the people, or contribute to his amusement, was neglected ; pageants, tournaments, and public spectacles of every kind, were exhibited with that expensive magnificence which com- mercial nations are fond of displaying, when, on any occasion, they depart from their usual maxims of frugality. But amidst these scenes of festivity and pleasure, Philip's natural severity of temper was discernible. Youfh itself could not render him agreeable, nor his being a candidate for power form him to courtesy. He maintained a haughty reserve in his behaviour, and discovered such manifest partiality towards his Spanish attendants, together with such an avowed preference to the manners of their countiy, as highly disgusted the Flemings, and gave rise to that antipathy, which afterwards occasioned a revolution so fatal to him in that part of his dominions.^ Charles was long detained in the Netherlands by a violent attack of the gout, which returned upon him so frequently, and with such increasing violence, that it had broken, to a great degree, the vigour of his constitu- tion. He nevertheless did not slacken his endeavours to enforce the Inte- rim. The inhabitants of Strasburg, after a long struggle, found it necessary to yield obedience ; those of Constance, who had taken arms in their own defence, were compelled by force, not only to conform to the Interim, but to renounce their privileges as a free city, to do homage to Ferdinand as archduke of Austria, and as his vassals, to admit an Austrian governor and farrison.§ Magdeburg, Bremen, Hamburg, and Lubeck, were the only mperial cities of note that still continued refractory BOOK X. While Charles laboured, with such unwearied industry, to persuade or to force the protestants to adopt his regulations with respect to religion, the effects of his steadiness in the execution of his plan were rendered less con- siderable by his rupture with the pope, which daily increased. The firm resolution which the emperor seemed to have taken against restoring Pla- centia, together with his repeated encroachments on the ecclesiastical juris- diction, not only by the regulations contained in the Interim, but by his attempt to re-assemble the council at Trent, exasperated Paul to the ut- most, who, with the weakness incident to old age, grew more attached to his family, and more jealous of his authority, as he advanced in years. Pushed on by these passions, he made new efforts to draw the French king into an alliance against the emperor :|| but finding that monarch, notwith- standing the hereditary enmity between him and Charles, and the jealousj' * Ochoa, Carolea, 362. t Harsi. Annul. Brabant 692. i Mem. de Ribtar, li. 99. L'Kves- queMem.deCavd. Oranvellc, i. 21, $ SIcid. 474. 493 '! Mem. de Bill U.S30 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 383 with which he viewed the successful progress of the Imperial arms, as unwilling as formerly to involve himself in immediate hostilities, he was obliged to contract his views, and to think of preventing future encroach- ments, since it was not in his power to inflict vengeance on account of those which were past. For this purpose, he determined to recall his grant of Parma and Placentia, and after declaring them to be re-annexed to the holy- see, to indemnify his grandson Octavio by a new establishment in the ecclesiastical state. By this expedient he hoped to gain two points of no small consequence. He, first of all, rendered his possession of Parma more secure ; as the emperor would be more cautious of invading the patrimony of the church, though he might seize without scruple a town belonging to the house of Farnese. In the next place, he would acquire a better chance of recovering Placentia, as his solicitations to that effect might decently be urged with greater importunity, and would infallibly be attended with greater effect, when he was considered not as pleading the cause of his own family, but as an advocate for the interest of the holy see. But while Paul was priding himself on this device, as a happy refinement in policy, Octavio, an ambitious and high-spirited young man, who could not bear with patience to be spoiled of one half of his territories by the rapaciousness of his father- in-law, and to be deprived of the other by the artifices of his grandfather, took measures in order to prevent the execution of a plan fatal to his interest. He set out secretly from Rome, and having first endeavoured to surprise Parma, which attempt was frustated by the fidelity of the governor to whom the pope had intrusted the defence of the town, he made over- tures to the emperor, of renouncing all connexion with the pope, and of depending entirely on him for his future fortune. This unexpected defec- tion of one of the pope's own family to an enemy whom he hated, irritated* almost to madness, a mind peevish with old age ; and there was no degree of severity to which Paul might not have proceeded against a grandson whom he reproached as an unnatural apostate. But, happily for Octavio, death prevented his canying into execution the harsh resolutions which he had taken with respect to him, and put an end to his pontificate in the six- teenth year of his administration, and the eighty -second year of his age.* * Among many instances of the credulity or weakness of historians in attributing the death of illustrious personages to extraordinary causes, this is one. Almost all the historians of the sixteenth century affirm, that the death of Paul III. was occasioned by the violent passions which the behaviour of his grandson excited ; that being informed, while he was refreshing himself in one of his gardens near Rome, of Octavio's attempt on Parma, as well as of his negotiations with the emperor by means of Gonzaga, he fainted away, continued some hours in a swoon, then became feverish, and died within three days. This is the account given of it by Thuanus, lib. vi. 211. Adriani Istor. di suoi Tempi, lib. vii. 480, and by Father Paul, 280. Even cardinal Pallavicini, better informed than any writer with regard to the events which happened in the papal court, and when not warped by prejudice or system, more accurate in relating them, agrees with their narrative in its chief circum- stances. Pallav. b. ii. 74. Paruta, who wrote hishistoryby command of the senateofVenice,relates it in the same manner. Historici Venez. vol. iv. 212. But there was no occasion to search for any extraordinary cause to account for the death of an old man of eighty-two. There remains an au- thentic account of this event, in which we find none of those marvellous circumstances of which the historians are so fond. The cardinal of Ferrara, who was intrusted with the affairs of France at the court of Rome, and M. D'Urfe, Henry's ambassador in ordinary there, wrote an account to that monarch of the affair of Parma, and of the pope's death. By these it appears, that Octavio's attempt to surprise Parma, was made on the twentieth of October ; that next day in the evening, and not while he was ailing himself in the gardens of Monte Cavallo, the pope received intelligence of what he had done ; that he was seized with such a transport of passion, and cried so bitterly, that his voice was heard in several apartments of the palace ; that next day, however, he was so well as to give an audience to the cardinal of Ferrara, and to go through business of different kinds ; that Octavio wrote a letter to the pope, not to cardinal Farnese his brother, intimating his resolution of throwing himself into the arms of the emperor ; that the pope received this on the twenty-first without any new symptoms of emotion, and returned an answer to it ; that on the twenty-second of October, the day on which the cardinal of Ferrara's letter is dated, the pope was in his usual state of health. Mem. de Ribier, ii. 247. By a letter of M. D'Urfe, Nov. 5, it appears that the pope was in such good health, that on the third of that month he had celebrated the anniversary of his coronation with the usual solemnities. Ibidem, 851. By another letter from the same person, we learn, that on the sixth of November a catarrh or delhixion tell down mi the pope's lungs, with such dangerous symptoms, that his life was immediately despaired of. Ibid. 252. And by a third letter we are informed, that lie died November the tenth. In none of these letters is his death imputed to any extraordinary cause. It appears, that more than twenty daya elapsed between Octavio's attempt on Parma anil the death of his grandfather, and that the tlr-ease was the Datura] efled of old age. ami not one of :iinse occasioned by violence of passion. 3S4 THE REIUlv OF THE [Book X. 1550.] As this event had been long expected, there was an extraordinary concourse of cardinals at Rome ; and the various competitors having had time to form their parties, and to concert their measures, their ambition and intrigues protracted the conclave to a great length. The Imperial and French faction strove, with emulation, to promote one of their own num- ber, and had, by turns, the prospect of success. But as Paul, during a long pontificate, bad raised many to the purple, and those chiefly persons of eminent abilities, as well as zealously devoted to his family, cardinal Farnese had the command of a powerful and united squadron, by whose address and firmness he exalted to the papal throne the cardinal di Monte [Feb. 7], whom Paul had employed as his principal legate in the council of Trent, and trusted with his most secret intentions. He assumed the name of Julius III., and in order to express his gratitude towards his bene- factor, the first act of his administration was to put Octavio Farnese in possession of Parma. When the injury which he did to the holy see, by alienating a territory of such value, was mentioned by some of the cardi- nals, he briskly replied, " That he would rather be a poor pope, with the reputation of a gentleman, than a rich one, with the infamy of having for- gotten the obligations conferred upon him, and the promises which he had made."* But all the lustre of this candour or generosity he quickly effaced by an action most shockingly indecent. According to an ancient and estab- lished practice, every pope upon his election considers it as his privilege to bestow, on whom he pleases, the cardinal's hat, which falls to be dis- posed of by his being invested with the triple crown. Julius, to the astonishment of the sacred college, conferred this mark of distinction, together with ample ecclesiastical revenues, and the right of bearing his name and arms, upon one Innocent, a youth of sixteen, born of obscure parents, and known by the name of the Ape, from his having been trusted with the care of an animal of that species, in the cardinal di Monte's family. Such a prostitution of the highest dignity in the church would have given offence, even in those dark periods, when the credulous super- stition of the people emboldened ecclesiastics to venture on the most fla- grant violations of decorum. - But in an enlightened age, when, by the progress of knowledge and philosophy, the obligations of duty and decency were better understood, when a blind veneration for the pontifical charac- ter was every where abated, and one half of Christendom in open rebel- lion against the papal see, this action was viewed with horror. Rome was immediately filled with libels and pasquinades, which imputed the pope's extravagant regard for such an unworthy object to the most criminal pas- sions. The protestants exclaimed against the absurdity of supposing that the infallible spirit of divine truth could dwell in a breast so impure, and called more loudly than ever, and with greater appearance of justice, for the immediate and thorough reformation of a church, the head of which was a disgrace to the Christian name.j The rest of the pope's conduct was of a piece with this first specimen of his dispositions. Having now reached the summit of ecclesiastical ambition, he seemed eager to indem- nify himself, by an unrestrained indulgence of his desires, for the self- denial or dissimulation which he had thought it prudent to practise while in a subordinate station. He became careless, to so great a degree, of all serious business, that he could seldom be brought to attend to it, but in cases of extreme necessity ; and giving up himself to amusements and dissipation of every kind, he imitated the luxurious elegance of Leo rather than the severe virtue of Adrian, the latter of which it was necessary to display, in contending with a sect which derived great credit from the rigid and austere manners of its teachers.J * Mem. de Hibicr. t Sleid. 492. F. Paul, 281. Pallav. ii. 76. Thuan. lib. vi. 215. -1 V. Paul, 281. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 385 The pope, however, ready to fulfil his engagements to the family of Farnese, discovered no inclination to observe the oath, which each cardinal had taken when he entered the conclave, that if the choice should fall on him, he would immediately call the council to reassume its deliberations. Julius knew, by experience, how difficult it was to confine such a body of men within the narrow limits which it was the interest of the see of Rome to prescribe ; and how easily the zeal of some members, the rashness of others, or the suggestions of the pvinces on whom they depended, might precipitate a popular and ungovernable assembly into forbidden inquiries, as well as dangerous decisions. He wished, for these reasons, to have eluded the obligation of his oath, and gave an ambiguous answer to the first proposals which were made to him by the emperor, with regard to that matter. But Charles, either from his natural obstinacy in adhering to the measures which he had once adopted, or from the mere pride of accom- plishing what was held to be almost impossible, persisted in his resolution of forcing the protestants to return into the bosom of the church. Having persuaded himself, that the authoritative decisions of the council might be employed with efficacy in combating their prejudices, he, m consequence of that persuasion, continued to solicit earnestly that a new bull of convo- cation might be issued; and the pope could not, with decency, reject that request. When Julius found that he could not prevent the calling of a council, he endeavoured to take to himself all the merit of having procured the meeting of an assembly, which Was the object of such general desire and expectation. A congregation of cardinals, to whom he referred the consideration of what was necessary for restoring peace to the church, recommended, by his direction, the speedy convocation of a council, as the most effectual expedient for that purpose ; and as the new heresies raged with the greatest violence in Germany, they proposed Trent as the place of its meeting, that, by a near inspection of the evil, the remedy might be applied with greater discernment and certainty of success. The pope warmly approved of this advice, which he himself had dictated, and sent nuncios to the Imperial and French courts, in order to make known his intentions.* About this time, the emperor had summoned a new diet to meet at Augsburg, in order to enforce the observation of the Interim, and to pro- cure a more authentic act of the supreme court in the empire, acknow- ledging the jurisdiction of the council, as well as an explicit promise of conforming to its decrees. He appeared there in person, together with his son the prince of Spain [June 25]. Few electors were present, but all sent deputies in their name. Charles, notwithstanding the despotic autho- rity with which he had given law in the empire during two years, knew {hat the spirit of independence among the Germans was not entirely sub- dued, and for that reason took care to overawe the diet by a considerable body of Spanish troops which escorted him thither. The first point sub- mitted to the consideration of the diet, was the necessity of holding a council. All the popish members agreed, without difficulty, that the meet- ing of that assembly should be renewed at Trent, and promised an implicit acquiescence in its decrees. The protestants, intimidated and disunited, must have followed their example, and the resolution of the diet would have proved unanimous, if Maurice of Saxony had not begun at this time to disclose new intentions, and to act a part very different from that w hi ch- ile had so long assumed. By an artful dissimulation of his own sentiments; by address in paying court to the emperor; and by the seeming zeal with which he forwarded all his ambitious schemes, Maurice had raised himself to the electoral dig- nity ; and having added the dominions of the elder branch of the Saxon :: Vol. II. 49 J86 T II E KEKi N () I-1 T H £ [Book X. family to bis own, he was become the most powerful prince in Germany. But his long and intimate union with the emperor had afforded him many opportunities of observing narrowly the dangerous tendency of that mon- arch's schemes. He saw the yoke that was preparing lor his country ; and from the rapid as well as formidable progress of the Imperial power, was convinced that but a few steps more remained to be taken, in order to render Charles as absolute a monarch in Germany as he had become in .Spain. The more eminent the condition was to which he himself bad been exalted, the more solicitous did Maurice naturally become to main- tain all its rights and privileges, and the more did he dread the thoughts of descending from the rank of a prince almost independent, to that of a vassal subject to the commands of a master. At the same time he per- ceived that Charles was bent on exacting a rigid conformity to the doc- trines and rites of the Romish church, instead of allowing liberty ot con- science, the promise of which had allured several protestant princes to assist him in the war against the confederates of Smalkalde. As he him- self, notwithstandh)g all the compliances which he had made from motives of interest, or an excess of confidence in the emperor, was sincerely attached to the Lutheran tenets, he determined not to be a tame spectator of the overthrow of a system which he believed to be founded in truth. This resolution, flowing from a love of liberty, or zeal for religion, was strengthened by political and interested considerations. In that elevated station in which Maurice was now placed, new and more extensive pros- pects opened to his view. His rank and power entitled him to be the head of the protestants in the empire. His predecessor, the degraded elector, with inferior abilities, and territories less considerable, had acquired such an ascendant over the councils of the party; and Maurice neither wanted discernment to see the advantage of this pre-eminence, nor ambition to aim at attaining it. But he found himself in a situation which rendered the attempt no less difficult, than the object of it was important. On the one hand, the connection which he had formed with the emperor was so intimate, that he could scarcely hope to take any step which tended to dissolve it, without alarming- his jealousy, and drawing on himself the whole weight of that power, which had crushed the greatest confederacy ever formed in Germany. On the other hand, the calamities which he had brought on the protestant party were so recent, as well as great, that it seemed almost impossible to regain their confidence, or to rally and reani- mate a body after he himself had been the chief instrument in breaking its union -and vigour. These considerations were sufficient to have dis- couraged any person of a spirit less adventurous than Maurice's. But to him the grandeur and difficulty of the enterprise were allurements ; and he boldly resolved on measures, the idea of which a genius of an inferior order could not have conceived, or would have trembled at the thoughts of the danger that attended the execution of them. His passions concurred with his interest in confirming this resolution : and the resentment excited by an injury, which he sensibly felt, added new force to the motives for opposing the emperor, which sound policy sug- gested. Maurice, by his authority, had prevailed on the landgrave of Hesse to put his person in the emperor's power, and had obtained a pro- mise from the Imperial ministers that he should not be detained a prisoner. This had been violated in the manner already related. The unhappy landgrave exclaimed as loudly against his son-in-law as against Charle.--. The princes of Hesse incessantly required Maurice to fulfil his engagi mcnts to their father, who had lost his liberty by trusting to him ; and all Germany suspected him of having betrayed, to an implacable enemy, the friend whom he was most bound to protect. Roused by these solicitation - or reproaches, as well as prompted by duty and affection to his father-in- law. Maurice had employed not only entreaties but remonstrances in ord< EMPEROR CHARLES \. 3U7 lo procure his release. All these Charles had disregarded ; and the shame of having heen first deceived, and then slighted, by a prince whom he had served with zeal as well as success, which merited a very different return, made such a deep impression on Maurice, that he waited with impatience lor an opportunity of being revenged. The utmost caution as well as the most delicate address were requisite in taking every step towards this end ; as he had to guard, on the one hand; against giving a premature alarm to the emperor; while, on the other, something considerable and explicit was necessary to be done, in order to regain the confidence oi' the protestant party. Maurice had accordingly applied all his powers of art and dissimulation to attain both these points. As he knew Charles to be inflexible with regard to the submission which he required to the Interim, he did not hesitate one moment whether he should establish that form of doctrine and worship in his dominions : but being sensible how odious it was to his subjects, instead of violently imposing it on them by the mere terror of authority, as had been done in other parts of Germany, he endeavoured to render their obedience a voluntary deed of their own. For this purpose, he had assembled the clergy of his country at Leipsic, and had laid the Interim before them, together with the reasons which made it necessary to conform to it. He had gained some of them by promises, others he had wrought upon by threats, and all were intimidated by the rigour with which obedience to the Interim was extorted in the neighbouring provinces. Even Melanc- thon, whose merit of every kind entitled him to the first place among the protestant divines, being now deprived of the manly counsels of Luther, which were wont to inspire him with fortitude, and to preserve him steady amidst the storms and dangers that threatened the church, was seduced into unwarrantable concessions, by the timidity of his temper, his fond desire of peace, and his excessive complaisance towards persons of high rank. By his arguments and authority, no less than by Maurice's address, tlie assembly was prevailed on to declare, " that, in points which were purely indifferent, obedience was due to the commands of a lawful supe- rior.' Founding upon this maxim, no less incontrovertible in theory, than dangerous when carried into practice, especially in religious matters, many ot the protestant ecclesiastics whom Maurice consulted, proceeded to class, among the number of things indifferent, several doctrines, which Luther had pointed out as gross and pernicious errors in the Romish creed ; and placing in the same rank many of those rights which distinguished the reformed from the popish worship, they exhorted their people to comply with the emperor's injunctions concerning these particulars.* By this dexterous conduct, the introduction of the Interim excited none of those violent convulsions in Saxony which it occasioned in other pro- vinces. But though the Saxons submitted, the more zealous Lutherans exclaimed against Melancthon and his associates, as false brethren, who were either so wicked as to apostatize from the truth altogether ; or so crafty as to betray it by subtle distinctions ; or so feeble-spirited as to give it up from pusillanimity and criminal complaisance to a prince, capable of sacrificing to his political interest that which he himself regarded as most sacred. Maurice, being conscious what a colour of probability his past conduct gave to those accusations, as well as afraid of losing entirely the confidence of the protestants, issued a declaration containing professions of his zealous attachment to the reformed religion, and of his resolution to guard against all the errors or encroachments of the papal see.t Having gone so far in order to remove the fears and jealousies of the protestants, he found it necessary to efface the impression which such a * Sleid. 4fll. 48j. .In. Laur. Mosncmii [nstitutionem Hiet Ecclesiastics, lib. iv. HelmsL 1705, 4to. p. 748. Jo And Schffl H htterimistica r.*o Arc Helmet. 1730. ' Sleid. 465. 3b& THE REIGN OF THE [Book X. declaration might make upon the emperor. For that purpose, he not only renewed his professions of an inviolable adherence to his alliance with him, but as the city of Magdeburg still persisted in rejecting the Interim, he undertook to reduce it to obedience, and instantly set about levying troops to be employed in that service. This damped all the hopes which the protestants began to conceive of Maurice, in consequence of his decla- ration, and left them more than ever at a loss to guess at his real intentions. Their former suspicion and distrust of him revived, and the divines of Magdeburg filled Germany with writings in which they represented him as the most formidable enemy of the protestant religion, who treacherously assumed an appearance of zeal for its interest, that he might more effectu- ally execute his schemes for its destruction. This charge, supported by the evidence of recent facts, as well as by his present dubious conduct, gained such universal credit, that Maurice was obliged to take a vigorous step in his own vindication. As soon as the reassembling of the council at Trent was proposed in the diet, his am- bassadors protested that their master would not acknowledge its authority,, unless all the points which had been already decided there, were reviewed, and considered as still undetermined ; unless the protestant divines had a full hearing granted them, and were allowed a decisive voice in the council ; and unless the pope renounced his pretensions to preside in the council, engaged to submit to its decrees, and .to absolve the bishops from their oath of obedience, that they might deliver their sentiments with greater freedom. These demands, which were higher than any that the retormers had ventured to make, even when the zeal of their party was warmest, or their affairs most prosperous, counterbalanced in some degree, the impres- sion which Maurice's preparations against Magdeburg had made upon the minds of the protestants, and kept them in suspense with regard to his designs. At the same time, he had dexterity enough to represent this part of his conduct in such a light to the emperor, that it gave him no offence, and occasioned no interruption of the strict confidence which subsisted between them. What the pretexts were which he employed, in order to give such a bold declaration an innocent appearance, the contemporary his- torians have not explained ; that they imposed upon Charles is certain, for he still continued not only to prosecute his plan, as well concerning the Interim as the council, with the same ardour, but to place the same confi- dence in Maurice, with regard to the execution of both. The pope's resolution concerning the council not being yet known at Augsburg, the chief business of the diet was to enforce the observation of the Interim. As the senate of Magdeburg, notwithstanding various endeavours to frighten or to soothe them into compliance, not only perse- vered obstinately in their opposition to the Interim, but began to strengthen the fortifications of their city, and to levy troops in their own defence, Charles required the diet to assist him in quelling this audacious rebellion against a decree of the empire. Had the members of the diet been left to act agreeably to their own inclination, this demand would have been rejected without hesitation. All the Germans who favoured, in any degree, the new opinions in religion, and many who were influenced by no other consideration than jealousy of the emperor.'s growing power, regarded this effort of the citizens of Magdeburg, as a noble stand for the liberties of their country. Even such as had not resolution to exert the same spirit, admired the gallantry of their enterprise, and wished it success. But the presence of Spanish troops, together with the dread of the emperor's displeasure, overawed the members of the diet to such a degree, that, without venturing to utter their own sentiments, they tamely ratified, by their votes, whatever the emperor was pleased to prescribe. The rigo- rous decrees, which Charles had issued by his own authority against the Magdeburgers. were confirmed: a resolution was taken to rai*e troops in EMPEROR CHARLES V 38» order to besiege the city in form ; and persons were named to fix the con- tingent in men or money to be furnished by each state. At the same time the diet petitioned that Maurice might be intrusted with the command of that army ; to which Charles gave his consent with great alacrity, and with high encomiums upon the wisdom of the choice which they had made.* As Maurice conducted all his schemes with profound and impe- netrable secrecy, it is probable that he took no step avowedly in order to obtain this charge. rI he recommendation of his countrymen was either purely accidental, or flowed from the opinion generally entertained of his great abilities ; and neither the diet had any foresight, nor the emperor any dread, of the consequences which followed upon this nomination. Maurice accepted, without hesitation, the command to which he was recommended, instantly discerning the important advantages which he might derive from having it committed to him. Meanwhile, Julius, in preparing the bull for the convocation of the council, observed all those tedious forms which the court of Rome can artfully employ to retard any disagreeable measure. At last, however, it was published, and the council was summoned to meet at Trent on the first day of the ensuing month of May. As he knew that many of the Germans rejected or disputed the authority and jurisdiction which the papal see claims with respect to general councils, he took care, in the preamble of the bull, to assert, in the strongest terms, his own right, not only to call and preside in that assembly, but to direct its proceedings ; nor would he soften these expressions in any degree, in compliance with the repeated solicitations of the emperor, who foresaw what offence they would give, and what construction might be put on them. They were censured accordingly with great severity by several members of the diet ; but whatever disgust or suspicion they excited, such complete influence over all their deliberations had the emperor acquired, that he procured a recess [Feb. 13, 1551], in which the authority of the council was recog- nised, and declared to be the proper remedy for the evils which at that time afflicted the church ; all the princes and states of the empire, such as had made innovations in religion, as well as those who adhered to the system of their forefathers, were required to send their representatives to the council ; the emperor engaged to grant a safe-conduct to such as demanded it, and to secure them an impartial hearing in the council ; he promised to fix his residence in some city of the empire, in the neighbour- hood of Trent, that he might protect the members of the council by his presence, and take care that by conducting their deliberations agreeably to scripture and the doctrine of the fathers, they might bring them to a desi- rable issue. In this recess, the observation of the Interim was more strictly enjoined than ever ; and the emperor threatened all who had hitherto neglected or refused to conform to it, with the severest effects of his vengeance, if they persisted in their disobedience.! During the meeting of this diet, a new attempt was made, in order to procure liberty to the landgrave. That prince, no ways reconciled to his situation by time, grew every day more impatient of restraint. Having often applied to Maurice and the elector of Brandenburg, who took every occasion of soliciting the emperor in his behalf, though without any effect, he now commanded his sons to summon them, with legal formality, to per- form what was contained in the bond which they had granted him, by surrendering themselves into their hands to be treated with the same rigour as the emperor had used him. This furnished them with a fresh pretext for renewing their application to the emperor, together with an additional argument to enforce it. Charles firmly resolved not to grant their request ; though, at the same time, being extremely desirous to be delivered from • Pleid. 503. 512. t Sft>id. 512. Tlmnn lilt vi. 1TJ. Rokiasll Onstif.Imperiales. vol. ii 340 B90 THE REIGN OF THE [Book X, their incessant importunity, he endeavoured to prevail on the landgrave t<< give up the bond which he had received from the two electors, But that prince refusing to part with a security which he deemed essential to his safety, the emperor boldly cut the knot which he could not untie ; and by a public deed annulled the bond which Maurice and the elector of Bran- denburg had granted, absolving them from all their engagements to the landgrave. No pretension to a power so pernicious to society as that of abrogating at pleasure the most sacred laws of honour, and most formal obligations of public faith, had hitherto been formed by any but the Roman pontiffs, who, in consequence of their claim of supreme power on earth, arrogate the right of dispensing with precepts and duties of every kind. All Germany was tilled with astonishment, when Charles assumed the same prerogative. The state of subjection, to which the empire was reduced, appeared to be more rigorous, as well as intolerable, than that of the most wretched and enslaved nations, if the. emperor, by an arbitrary decree, might cancel those solemn contracts which are the foundation of that mutual confidence whereby men are held together in social union. The landgrave himself now gave up all hopes of recovering his liberty by the emperor's consent, and endeavoured to procure it by his own address. But the plan which he had formed to deceive his guards being discovered, such of his attendants as he had gained to favour his escape, were put to death, and he was confined in the citadel of Mechlin more closely than ever.* Another transaction was carried on during this diet, with respect to an affair more nearly interesting to the emperor, and which occasioned like- wise a general alarm among the princes of the empire. Charles, though formed with talents which fitted him for conceiving and conducting great designs, was not capable, as has been often observed, of bearing extraor- dinary success. Its operation on his mind was so violent and intoxicating, that it elevated him beyond what was moderate or attainable, and turned his whole attention to the pursuit of vast but chimerical objects. Such had been the effect of his victory over the confederates ot Smalkalde. He did not long rest satisfied with the substantial and certain advantages which were the result of that event, but, despising these, as poor or incon- siderable fruits of such great success, he aimed at nothing less than at bringing all Germany to a uniformity in religion, and at rendering the Im- perial power despotic. These were objects extremely splendid indeed, and alluring to an ambitious mind; the pursuit of them, however, was attended with manifest danger, and the hope of attaining them very uncer- tain. But the steps which he had already taken towards them, having been accompanied with such success, his imagination, warmed with con- templating this alluring object, overlooked or despised all remaining diffi- culties. As he conceived the execution of his plan to be certain, he began to be solicitous bow he might render the possession of such an important acquisition perpetual in his family, by transmitting the German empire, together with the kingdoms of Spain, and his dominions in Italy and the Low-Countries, to his son. Having long revolved this flattering idea in his mind, without communicating it, even to those ministers whom he most trusted, he bad called Philip out of Spain, in hopes that his presence would facilitate the carrying forward the scheme. Great obstacles, however, and such as would have deterred any ambi- tion less accustomed to overcome difficulties) were to be surmounted. He had, in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty, imprudently assisted in procuring his brother Ferdinand the dignity of king of the Romans, and there was no probability that this prince, who was still in the prime of life, and had a son grown up to the years of manhood, would relinquish, .in favour of his nephew, the near prospect of the Imperial throne, which * SU-iil. 501 Thu.m I vi. 334,835 EM PEROR CHARLES \ . 391 Charles's infirmities and declining state of health opened to himself. This did not deter the emperor from venturing to make the proposition ; and when Ferdinand, notwithstanding his profound reverence for his brother, and obsequious submission to his will in other instances, rejected it in ;t peremptory tone, he was not discouraged by one repulse. He renewed his applications to him by his sister, Mary queen of Hungary, to whom Ferdinand stood indebted for the crowns both of Hungary and Bohemia, and who, by her great abilities, tempered with extreme gentleness of dis- position, had acquired an extraordinary influence over both the brothers. She entered warmly into a measure, which tended so manifestly to aggran- dize the house of Austria, and flattering herself that she could tempt Fer- dinand to renounce the reversionary possession of the Imperial dignity for an immediate establishment, she assured him that the emperor, by Avay oi compensation for his giving up his chance of succession, would instantly bestow upon him territories of very considerable value, and pointed out in particular those of the duke of Wurtemberg, which might be confiscated upon different pretexts. But neither by her address nor entreaties could she induce Ferdinand to approve of a plan, which would not only have degraded him from the highest rank among the monarchs of Europe to that of a subordinate and dependent prince, but would have involved both him and his posterity in perpetual contests. He was, at the same time, more attached to his children, than by a rash concession to frustrate all the high hopes, in prospect of which they had been educated. Notwithstanding the immoveable firmness which Ferdinand discovered, the emperor did not abandon his scheme. He flattered himself that he might attain the object in view by another channel, and that it was not impossible to prevail on the electors to cancel their former choice of Fer- dinand, or at least to elect Philip a second king of the Romans, substituting him as next in succession to his uncle. With this view, he took Philip along with him to the diet, that the Germans might have an opportunity to observe and become acquainted with the prince, in behalf of whom he courted their interest ; and he himself employed all the. arts of address or insinuation to gain the electors, and to prepare them for listening with a favourable ear to the proposal. But no sooner did he venture upon men- tioning it to them, than they, at once, saw and trembled at the conse- quences with which it would be attended. They had long felt all the inconveniences of having placed at the head of the empire a prince whose power and dominions were so extensive ; if they should now repeat the folly, and continue the Imperial crown, like an hereditary dignity in the same family, they foresaw that they would give the son an opportunity ot carrying on that system of oppression which the father had begun ; and would put it in his power to overturn whatever was yet left entire in the ancient and venerable fabric of the German constitution. The character of the prince, in whose favour this extraordinary propo- sition was made, rendered it still less agreeable. Philip, though possessed with an insatiable desire of power, was a stranger to all the arts of concilia- ting good will. Haughty, reserved, and severe, he, instead of gaining new friends, disgusted the ancient and most devoted partisans of the Aus- trian interest. He scorned to take the trouble of acquiring the language of the country to the government of which he aspired ; nor would he con- descend to pay the Germans the compliment of accommodating himself, during his residence among them, to their manners and customs.* He allowed the electors and most illustrious princes in Germany to remain in his presence uncovered, affecting a stately and distant demeanour, which the greatest of the German emperors, and even Charles himself, amid-' * Fiediman Andrea ZuKcfa DiwrM^o politico histories de N^vis fioijriris nawii v. i.ipp 1706 •Jto. r>. St. 392 THE REIGN OF THE [Book X. the pride of power and victory, had never assumed. On the other hand, Ferdinand, from the time of his arrival in Germany, had studied to render himself acceptable to the people, by a conformity to their manners, which seemed to flow from choice ; and his son Maximilian, who was born in Germany, possessed, in an eminent degree, such amiable qualities as ren- dered him the darling of his countrymen, and induced them to look for- ward to his election as a most desirable event. Their esteem and affec- tion for him fortified the resolution which sound policy had suggested ; and determined the Germans to prefer the popular virtues of Ferdinand and his son, to the stubborn austerity of Philip, which interest could not soften, nor ambition teach him to disguise. All the electors, the ecclesias- tical as well as secular, concurred in expressing such strong disapprobation of the measure, that Charles, notwithstanding the reluctance with which he gave up any point, was obliged to drop the scheme as impracticable. By nis unseasonable perseverance in pushing it, he had not only filled the Germans with new jealousy of his ambitious designs, but laid the founda- tion of rivalship and discord in the Austrian family, and forced his brother Ferdinand, in self-defence, to court the electors, particularly Maurice of Saxony, and to form such connections with them, as cut off all prospect of renewing the proposal with success. Philip, soured by his disappoint- ment, was sent back to Spain, to be called thence when any new scheme of ambition should render his presence necessary.* Having relinquished this plan of domestic ambition which had long oc- cupied and engrossed him, Charles imagined that he would now have leisure to turn all his attention towards his grand scheme of establishing uniformity of religion in the empire, by forcing all the contending parties to acquiesce in the decisions of the council of Trent. But such was the extent of his dominions, the variety of connections in which this entangled him, and the multiplicity of events to which these gave rise, as seldom allowed him to apply his whole force to any one object. The machine which he had to conduct was so great and complicated, that an unforeseen irregularity or obstruction in one of the inferior wheels, often disconcerted the motion of the whole, and prevented his deriving from them all the beneficial effects which he expected. Such an unlooked-for occurrence happened at this juncture, and created new obstacles to the execution of his schemes with regard to religion. Julius III., though he had confirmed Octavio Farnese in the possession of the dutchy of Parma, during the first effusions of his joy and gratitude on his promotion to the papal throne, soon began -to repent of his own generosity, and to be apprehensive of consequences which either he did not foresee, or had disregarded, while the sense of his obligations to the family of Farnese was recent. The emperor still retained Placentia in his hands, and had not relinquished his pretensions to Parma as a fief of the empire. Gongaza the governor of Milan, having, by the part which he took in the murder of the late duke Peter Ludovico, offered an insult to the family of Farnese, which he knew could never be forgiven, had, for that reason, vowed its destruction ; and employed all the influence which his great abilities, as well as long services, gave him with the emperor, in persuading him to seize Parma by force of arms. Charles, in compliance with his solicitations, and that he might gratify his own desire of annexing Parma to the Milanese, listened to the proposal ; and Gonzaga, ready to take encouragement from the slightest appearance of approbation, began to assemble troops, and to make other preparations for the execution of his scheme. Octavio, who saw the impending danger, found it necessaiy, for his own safety, to increase the garrison of his capital, and to levy soldiers for *Sleid.505. TUuan. 180. 338. Memoir, dc Kibier ii. 219. 281. 3J4. Adriani Istor. Ml*, viii 507. 520. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 393 defending the rest of the country. But as the expense of such an effort far exceeded his scanty revenues, he represented his situation to the pope, and implored that protection and assistance which was due to him as a vassal of the church. The Imperial minister, however, had already pre-occupied the pope's ear ; and by discoursing continually concerning the danger of giving offence to the emperor, as well as the imprudence of supporting Octavio in an usurpation so detrimental to the holy see, had totally alienated him from the family of Farnese. Octavio's remonstrance and petition met, of consequence, with a cold reception ; and he, despairing of any assistance from Julius, began to look round for protection from some other quarter. Henry II. of France was the only prince powerful enough to afford him this protection, and fortunately he was now in a situation which allowed him to grant it. He had brought his transactions with the two British kingdoms, which hud hitherto diverted his attention from the affairs of the continent, to such an issue as he desired. This he had effected partly by the vigour of his arms, partly by his dexterity in taking advantage of the political factions which raged in both kingdoms to such a degree, as ren- dered the councils of the Scots violent and precipitate, and the operations of the English feeble and unsteady. He had procured from the English favourable conditions of peace for his allies the Scots ; he had prevailed on the nobles of Scotland not only to affiance their young queen to his son the dauphin, but even to send her into France, that she might be educated under his eye ; and had recovered Boulogne, together with its depend- encies, which had been conquered by Henry VIII. The French king having gained points of so much consequence to his crown, and disengaged himself with such honour from the burden of sup- porting the Scots, and maintaining a war against England, was now at full leisure to pursue the measures which his hereditary jealousy of the em- peror's power naturally suggested. He listened accordingly, to the first overtures which Octavio Farnese made him ; and embracing eagerly an opportunity of recovering footing in Italy, he instantly concluded a treaty, in which he bound himself to espouse his cause, and to furnish him all the assistance which he desired. This transaction could not be long kept secret from the pope, who, foreseeing the calamities which must follow if war were rekindled so near the ecclesiastical state, immediately issued monitory letters requiring Octavio to relinquish his new alliance. Upon his refusal to comply with the requisition, he soon after pronounced his fief to be forfeited, and declared war against him as a disobedient and rebellious vassal. But as, with his own forces alone, he could not hope to subdue Octavio while supported by such a powerful ally as the king of France, he had recourse to the emperor, who being extremely solicitous to prevent the establishment of the French in Parma, ordered Gonzaga to second Julius with all his troops. Thus the French took the field as the allies of Octavio, the Imperialists as the protectors of the holy see ; and hostilities com- menced between them, while Charles and Henry themselves still affected to give out that they would adhere inviolably to the peace of Crespy. The war of Parma was not distinguished by any memorable event. Many small rencounters happened with alternate success ; the French ravaged part of the ecclesiastical territories ; the Imperialists laid waste the Par- mesan ; and the latter, after having begun to besiege Parma in form, were obliged to abandon the enterprise with disgrace.* But the motions and alarm which this war, or the preparations for it, occasioned in Italy, prevented most of the Italian prelates from repairing to Trent on the first of May, the day appointed for reassembling the council ; and though the papal legate and nuncios resorted thither, they * Adrlani Istor. lib. viii. 505. 514. 524. Sleid. 513. Partita, p. 220. Ijottpre del Caro scritte al iioine del Card. Farnese, torn. ii. p. Jl. &r. Vol. U.— SO 394 THE REIGN OF THE [Book X. were obliged to adjourn the council to the first of September, hoping such a number of prelates might then assemble, that they might with decency begin their deliberations. At that time about sixty prelates, mostly from the cclesiastical state, or from Spain, together with a few Germans, con- vened.* The session was opened with the accustomed formalities, and the fathers were about to proceed to business, when the abbot of Bellozane appeared, and presenting letters ot credence as ambassador from the king of France, demanded audience. Having obtained it, he protested, in Henry's name, against an assembly called at such an improper juncture, when a war, wantonly kindled by the pope, made it impossible lor the deputies from the Gallican church to resort to Trent in safety, or to de- liberate concerning articles of faith and discipline with the requisite tran- quillity ; he declared, that his master did not acknowledge this to be a general or oecumenic council, but must consider, and would treat it, as a particular and partial convention.! The legate affected to despise this protest; and the prelates proceeded, notwithstanding, to examine and decide the great points in controversy concerning the sacrament of the Lord's supper, penance, and extreme unction. This measure of the French monarch, however, gave a deep wound to the credit of the council, at the very commencement of its deliberations. The Germans would not pay much regard to an assembly, the authority of which the second prince in Christendom had formally disclaimed, or feel any great reverence for the decisions of a few men, who arrogated to themselves all the rights belonging to the representatives of the church universal, a title to which they had such poor pretensions. The emperor, nevertheless, was straining his authority to the utmost, in order to establish the reputation and jurisdiction of the council. He had prevailed on the three ecclesiastical electors, the prelates of greatest power and dignity in the church next to the pope, to repair thither in person. He had obliged several German bishops of inferior rank, to go to Trent themselves, or to send their proxies. He granted an Imperial safe-conduct to the ambassadors nominated by the elector of Brandenburg, the duke of Wurtemberg, and other protesrants, to attend the council ; and exhorted them to send their divines thither, in order to propound, explain, and defend their doctrine. At the same time, his zeal anticipated the decrees of the council ; and as if the opinions of the prOtestants had already been condemned, he took large steps towards exterminating them. With this intention, he called together the ministers of Augsburg ; and after inter- rogating them concerning several controverted points, enjoined them to teach nothing with respect to these contrary to the tenets of the Romish church. Upon their declining to comply with a requisition so contrary to the dictates of their consciences, he commanded them to leave the town in three days, without revealing to any person the cause of their banish- ment ; he prohibited them to preach for the future in any province of the empire ; and obliged them to take an oath that they would punctually obey these injunctions. They were not the only victims to his zeal. The pro- testant clergy, in most of the cities in the circle of Suabia, were ejected with the same violence ; and in many places, such magistrates as had dis- tinguished themselves by their attachment to the new opinions, were dis- missed with the most abrupt irregularity, and their offices filled, in conse- quence of the emperor's arbitrary appointment, with the most bigotted ot their adversaries. The reformed worship was almost entirely suppressed throughout that extensive province. The ancient and fundamental privileges of the free cities were violated. The people were compelled to attend the ministration of priests, whom they regarded with horror as idolaters ; *F. Pan).268. tBIeM. 518. TbuRD.282. F.Paul. 301. EMPEROR CHARLES V. «5 ,iiid to submit to the jurisdiction of magistrates, whom they detested as usurpers.* The emperor, after this discovery, which was more explicit than any that he had hitherto made, of his intention to subvert the German constitu- tion, as well as to extirpate the protestant religion, set out for Inspruck in the Tyrol. He fixed his residence in that city [Novem.], as, by its situa- tion in the neighbourhood of Trent, and on the confines of Italy, it appeared a commodious station, whence he might inspect the operations of the coun- cil, and observe the progress of the war in the Parmesan without losing sight of such occurrences as might happen in Germany.! During these transactions, the siege of Magdeburg was carried on with various success. At the time when Charles proscribed the citizens of Mag- deburg, and put them under the ban of the empire, he had exhorted and even enjoined all the neighbouring states to take arms against them, as rebels and common enemies. Encouraged by his exhortations as well as promises, George of Mecklenburg, a younger brother of the reigning duke, an active and ambitious prince, collected a considerable number of those soldiers of fortune who had accompanied Henry of Brunswick in all his wild enterprises ; and though a zealous Lutheran himself, invaded the ter- ritories of the Magdeburgers, hoping that, by the merit of this service, he might procure some part of their domains to be allotted to him as an estab- lishment. The citizens, unaccustomed as yet to endure patiently the calamities of war, could not be restrained from sallying out in order to save their lands from being laid waste. They attacked the duke of Meck- lenburg with more resolution than conduct, and were repulsed with great slaughter. But as they were animated with that unconquerable spirit, which flows from zeal for religion co-operating with the love of civil liberty, far from being disheartened by their misfortune, they prepared to defend themselves with vigour. Many of the veteran soldiers who had served in the long wars between the emperor and king of France, crowding to their standards under able and experienced officers, the citizens acquired mili- tary skill by degrees, and added all the advantages of that to the efforts of undaunted courage. The duke of Mecklenburg, notwithstanding the severe blow which he had given the Magdeburgers, not daring to invest a town strongly fortified, and defended by such a garrison, continued to ravage the open country. As the hopes of booty drew many adventurers to the camp of this young prince, Maurice of Saxony began to be jealous of the power which he pos- sessed by being at the head of such a numerous body, and marching towards Magdeburg with his own troops, assumed the supreme command of the whole army, an honour to which his high rank and great abilities as well as the nomination of the diet, gave him an indisputable title. With this united force, he invested the town, and began the siege in form ; claiming great merit with the emperor on that account, as from his zeal to execute the Imperial decree, he was exposing himself once more to the censures and maledictions of the party with which he agreed in religious sentiments. But the approaches to the town went on slowly ; the garrison interrupted the besiegers by frequent sallies, in one of which George of Mecklenburg was taken prisoner, levelled part of their works, and cut off the soldiers in their advanced posts. While the citizens of Magdeburg, animated by the discourses of their pastors, and the soldiers, encouraged by the example of their officers, endured all the hardships of a siege without murmuring, and defended themselves with the same ardour which they had at first dis- covered ; the troops of the besiegers acted with extreme remissness, repining at every thing that they suffered in a service which they disliked. They broke out more than once into an open mutiny, demanding the arrears of * Sleid. 516. 538. Thuan.316. fSteid.339 39« THE REIGN OF THE [Book X. their pay, which, as the members of the Germanic body sent in their con- tributions towards defraying the expenses of the war sparingly, and with great reluctance, amounted to a considerable sum.* Maurice, too, had particular motives, though such as he durst not avow at that juncture, which induced him not to push the siege with vigour, and made him choose rather to continue at the head of an army exposed to all the imputations which his dilatory proceedings drew upon him, than to precipitate a conquest that might have brought him some accession of reputation, but would have rendered it necessary to disband his forces. At last, the inhabitants of the town beginning to suffer distress from want of provisions, and Maurice, finding it impossible to protract matters any longer without filling the emperor with such suspicions as might have dis- concerted all his measures, he concluded a treaty of capitulation with the city [Novem. 3], upon the following conditions ; that the Magdeburgers should humbly implore pardon of the emperor ; that they should not for the future take arms, or enter into any alliance against the house of Austria ; that they should submit to the authority of the Imperial chamber; that they should conform to the decree of the diet at Augsburg with respect to religion ; that the new fortifications added to the town should be demolished ; that they should pay a fine of fifty thousand crowns, deliver up twelve pieces of ordnance to the emperor, and set the duke of Mecklenburg, together with their other prisoners, at liberty, without ransom. Next day their garrison marched out, and Maurice took possession of the town with great military pomp. Before the terms of capitulation were settled, Maurice had held many conferences with Albert count Mansfeldt, who had the chief command in Magdeburg. He consulted likewise with count Heideck, an officer who had served with great reputation in the army of the league of Smalkalde, whom the emperor had proscribed on account of his zeal for that cause, but whom Maurice had, notwithstanding, secretly engaged in his service, and admitted into the most intimate confidence. To them he communi- cated a scheme, which he had long revolved in his mind, for procuring liberty to his father-in-law the landgrave, for vindicating the privileges of the Germanic body, and setting bounds to the dangerous encroachments of the Imperial power. Having deliberated with them concerning the mea- sures which might be necessary for securing the success of such an arduous enterprise, he gave Mansfeidt secret assurances that the fortifications of Magdeburg should not be destroyed, and that the inhabitants should neither be disturbed in the exercise of their religion, nor be deprived of any of their ancient immunities. In order to engage Maurice more thoroughly from considerations of interest to fulfil these engagements, the senate of Magdeburg elected him their burgrave, a dignity which had formerly belonged to the electoral house of Saxony, and which entitled him to a very ample jurisdiction not only in the city but in its dependencies.! Thus the citizens of Magdeburg, after enduring a siege of twelve months, and struggling for their liberties, religious and civil, with an invincible for- titude, worthy of the cause in which it was exerted, had at last the good fortune to conclude a treaty which left them in a better condition than the rest of their countrymen, whom their timidity or want of public spirit had betrayed into such mean submissions to the emperor. But while a great part of Germany applauded the gallant conduct of the Magdeburgers, and rejoiced in their having escaped the destruction with which they had been threatened, all admired Maurice's address in the conduct of his negotiation with them, as well as the dexterity with which he converted every event to his own advantage. They saw with amazement, that after having * Thuan. 277. Sleid.514. t Sleid. 508. Thnan.ii.27B. OMdionisMaedebnrffifi npsrripfi" perHehast. Be~elmcienim.ap. Srard.ii. fit?. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 397 afflicted the Magdeburgers during many months with all the calamities of war, he was at last, by their voluntary election, advanced to the station of highest authority in that city which he had so lately besieged ; that after having been so long the object of their satirical invectives as an apostate and an enemy to the religion which he professed, they seemed now to place unbounded confidence in his zeal and good will.* At the same time, the public articles in the treaty of capitulation were so perfectly conformable to those which the emperor had granted to the other protestant cities, and Maurice took such care to magnify his merit in having reduced a place which had defended itself with so much obstinacy, that Charles, far from suspecting any thing fraudulent or collusive in the terms of accommodation, ratified them without hesitation, and absolved the Magdeburgers from the sentence of ban which had been denounced against them The only point that now remained to embarrass Maurice was how to keep together the veteran troops which had served under him, as well as those which had been employed in the defence of the town. For this, too, he found an expedient with singular art and felicity. His schemes against the emperor were not yet so fully ripened, that he durst venture to disclose them, and proceed openly to carry them into execution. The winter was approaching, which made it impossible to take the field imme- diately. He was afraid that it would give a premature alarm to the emperor, if he should retain such a considerable body in his pay until the season of action returned in the spring. As soon then as Magdeburg opened its gates, he sent home his Saxon subjects, whom he could command to take arms and reassemble on the shortest warning; and at the same time, paying- part of the arrears due to the mercenary troops, who had followed his standard, as well as to the soldiers who had served in the garrison, he absolved them from their respective oaths of fidelity, and disbanded them. But the moment he gave them their discharge, George of Mecklenburg, who was now set at liberty, offered to take them into his service, and to become surety for the payment of what was still owing to them. As such adventurers were accustomed often to change masters, they instantly accepted the offer. Thus these troops were kept united, and ready to march wherever Maurice should call them, while the emperor, deceived by this artifice, and imagining that George of Mecklenburg had hired them with an intention to assert his claim to a part of his brother's territories by force of arms, suffered this transaction to pass without observation, as if it had been a matter of no consequence. * Having ventured to take these steps, which were of so much consequence towards the execution of his schemes, Maurice, that he might divert the emperor from observing their tendency too narrowly, and prevent the sus- picions which that must have excited, saw the necessity of employing some new artifice in order to engage his attention, and to confirm him in his pre- sent security. As he knew that the chief object of the emperor's solicitude at this juncture, was how he might prevail with the protestant states of Germany to recognise the authority of the council of Trent, and to send thither ambassadors in their own name, as well as deputies from their respective churches, he took hold of this predominating passion in order to amuse and to deceive him. He affected a wonderful zeal to gratify Charles in what he desired with regard to this matter; he nominated ambassadors whom he empowered to attend the council ; he made choice of Melancthon and some of the most eminent among his brethren to prepare a confession of faith, and to lay it before that assembly. After his example, and pro- bably in consequence of his solicitations, the duke of Wurteraberg, the. city of Strasburg, and other protestant states, appointed ambassadors and • Arnoldi vita Maui it. apud Menken: ii. 1227. t Thunn. 27f». Struv. Corp. Hist. Germ. JOW, Vnnkli vita Mauritii, opiiri M<-nkcn. ii. 1227 398 THE REltiN OF THE [Book X. divines to attend the council. They all applied to the emperor for hia safe-conduct, which they obtained in the most ample form. This was deemed sufficient for the security of the ambassadors, and they proceeded accordingly on their journey ; but a separate safe-conduct from the council itself was demanded for the protestant divines. The fate of John J Inl- and Jerome of Prague, whom the council of Constance, in the preceding century, had condemned to the flames without regarding the Imperial safe-conduct which had been granted them, rendered this precaution pru- dent and necessaiy. But as the pope was no less unwilling that the pro- testants should be admitted to a hearing in the council, than the emperor had been eager in bringing them to demand it, the legate by promises and threats prevailed on the lathers of the council to decline issuing a safe- conduct in the same form with that which the council of Basil had granted to the followers of Huss. The protestants, on their part, insisted upon the council's copying the precise words of that instrument. The Imperial ambassadors interposed in order to obtain what would satisfy them. Alterations in the lorm of the writ were proposed ; expedient? were sug- gested ; protests and counter-protests were taken : the legate, together with his associates, laboured to gain their point by artifice and chicane ; the protestants adhered to theirs with firmness and obstinacy. An account ot every thing that passed in Trent was transmitted to the emperor at Inspruck, who, attempting, from an excess of zeal, or of confidence in his own address, to reconcile the contending parties, was involved in a labyrinth of inextricable negotiations. By means of this, however, Maurice gained all that he had in view ; the emperor's time was wholly engrossed, and his attention diverted ; while he himself had leisure to mature his schemes, to cany on his intrigues, and to finish his preparations, before he threw off the mask, and struck the blow which he had so long meditated.* But previous to entering into any further detail concerning Maurice's operations, some account must be given of a new revolution in Hungary, which contributed not a little towards their producing such extraordinary effects. When Solyman, in the year 1541, by a stratagem, which suited the base and insidious policy of- a petty usurper, rather than the magna- nimity of a mighty conqueror, deprived the young king of Hungary of the dominions which his father had left him, he had granted that unfortunate prince the country of Transylvania, a province ot his paternal kingdom. The government of this, together with the care of educating the young king, for he still allowed him to retain that title, though he had rendered it only an empty name, he committed to the queen and Martinuzzi bishop of Waradin, whom the late king had appointed joint guardians of his son, and regents of his dominions, at a time when those offices were of greater importance. This co-ordinate jurisdiction occasioned the same dissensions in a small principality as it would have excited in a great kingdom : an ambitious young queen, possessed with a high opinion of her own capacity for governing ; and a high-spirited prelate, fond of power, contending who should engross the greatest share in the administration. Each had their partizans among the nobles ; but as Martinuzzi, by his great talents, began to acquire the ascendant, Isabella turned his own arts against him, and courted the protection of the Turks. The neighbouring bashas, jealous of the bishop's power as well as abilities, readily promised her the aid which she demanded, and would soon have obliged Martinuzzi to have given up to her the sole direction of affairs, if his ambition, fertile in expedients, had not suggested to him a new measure, and one that tended not only to preserve but to enlarge his authority. Having concluded an agreement with the queen, by the mediation of some of the nobles, who were solicitous to save their country ci. . :.i 526J29. p. Paul, 383. 338 Thtiar 286. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 3?9 from the calamities of a civil war, he secretly despatched one of his confi- dants to Vienna, and entered into a negotiation with Ferdinand. As il was no difficult matter to persuade Ferdinand, that the same man whose enmity and intrigues had driven him out of a great part of his Hungarian domi- nions, might, upon a reconciliation, become equally instrumental in recovering them, he listened eagerly to the first overtures of a union with that prelate. Martinuzzi allured him by such prospects of advantage, and engaged, with so much confidence, that he would prevail on the most powerful of the Hungarian nobles to take arms in his favour, that Ferdi- nand, notwithstanding his truce with Solyman, agreed to invade Transyl- vania. The command of the troops destined for that service, consisting of veteran Spanish and German soldiers, was given to Castaldo marquis de Piadena, an officer formed by the famous marquis de Pescara, whom he strongly resembled both in his enterprising genius for civil business, and in his great knowledge in the art of war. This army, more formidable by the discipline of the soldiers, and the abilities of the general, than by its numbers, was powerfully seconded by Martinuzzi and his faction among the Hungarians. As the Turkish bashas, the sultan himself being at the head of his army on the frontiers of Persia, could not afford the queen such immediate or effectual assistance as the exigency of her affairs required, she quickly lost all hopes of being able to retain any longer the authority which she possessed as regent, and even began to despair of her son s safety. Martinuzzi did not suffer this favourable opportunity of accomplishing his own designs to pass unimproved, and ventured, while she was in this state of dejection, to lay before her a proposal, which at any other time- she would have rejected with disdain. He represented how impossible it was for her to resist Ferdinand's victorious arms ; that even if the Turks should enable her to make head against them, she would be far from changing her condition to the better, and could not consider them as deliverers, but as masters, to whose commands she must submit; he con- jured her, therefore, as she regarded her own dignity, the safety of her son, or the security of Christendom, rather to give up Transylvania to Ferdi- nand, and to make over to him her son's title to the crown of Hungary, than to allow both to be usurped by the inveterate enemy of the Christian faith. At the same time he promised her, in Ferdinand's name, a compensation for herself, as well as for her son, suitable to their rank, and proportional to the value of what they were to sacrifice. Isabella, deserted by some of her adherents, distrusting others, destitute of friends, and surrounded by Castaldo's and Martinuzzi 's troops, subscribed these hard conditions, though with a reluctant hand. Upon this, she surrendered such places of strength as were still in her possession, she gave up all the ensigns of royalty, par- ticularly a crown of gold which, as the Hungarians believed, had descended from heaven, and conferred on him who wore it an undoubted right to the throne. As she could not bear to remain a private person, in a country where she had once enjoyed sovereign power, she instantly set out with her son for Silesia, in order to take possession of the principalities of Oppelen and Ratibor, the investiture of which Ferdinand had engaged to grant her son, and likewise to bestow one of his daughters upon him in marriage. Upon the resignation of the young king, Martinuzzi, and after his example the rest of the Transylvanian grandees, swore allegiance to Ferdinand : who, in order to testify his grateful sense of the zeal as well as success with which that prelate had served him, affected to distinguish him by every possible mark of favour and confidence. He appointed him governor of Transylvania, with almost unlimited authority; he publicly ordered Castaldo to pay the greatest deference to his opinion and commands ; he increased his revenues, which were already very great, by new appoint ments: he nominated him archbishop of Grans anaprevailed 6a the popi 400 THE KEIGN OF THE [Book A- to raise him to the dignity of a cardinal. All this ostentation of good-will, however, was void of sincerity, and calculated to conceal sentiments the most perfectly its reverse. Ferdinand dreaded Martinuzzi's abilities : distrusted his fidelity ; and foresaw, that as his extensive authority enabled him to check any attempt towards circumscribing or abolishing the extensive privi- leges which the Hungarian nobility possessed, he would stand forth on every occasion, the guardian of the liberties of his country, rather than act the part of a viceroy devoted to the will of his sovereign. For this reason, he secretly gave it in charge to Castaldo to watch his motions, to guard against his designs, and to thwart his measures. But Martinuzzi, either because he did not perceive that Castaldo was placed as a spy on his actions, or because he despised Ferdinand's insidious arts, assumed the direction of the war against the Turks with his usual tone of authority, and conducted it with great magnanimity, and no less success. He recovered some places of which the infidels had taken possession ; he rendered their attempts to reduce others abortive ; and established Ferdi- nand's authority not only in Transylvania, but in the Bannat of Temeswar, and several of the countries adjacent. In carrying on these operations, he oiten differed in sentiment from Castaldo and his officers, and treated the Turkish prisoners with a degree not only of humanity, but even of gene- rosity, which Castaldo loudly condemned. This was represented at Vienna as an artful method of courting the friendship of the infidels, that, by securing their protection, he might shake off all dependence upon the sovereign whom he now acknowledged. Though Martinuzzi, in justifi- cation of his own conduct, contended that it was impolitic by unnecessary severities to exasperate an enemy prone to revenge, Castaldo's accusations gained credit with Ferdinand, prepossessed already against Martinuzzi, and jealous of every thing that could endanger his own authority in Hun- gary, in proportion as he knew it to be precarious and ill-established. These suspicions Castaldo confirmed and strengthened, by the intelligence which he transmitted continually to his confidants at Vienna. By mis- representing what was innocent, and putting the worst construction on what seemed dubious in Martinuzzi's conduct; by imputing to him designs which he never formed, and charging him with actions of which he was not guilty; he at last convinced Ferdinand, that, in order to preserve his Hun- garian crown, he must cut off that ambitious prelate. But Ferdinand, foreseeing that it would be dangerous to proceed in the regular course of law against a subject of such exorbitant power as might enable him to set his sovereign at defiance, determined to employ vjolence in order to obtain that satisfaction which the laws were too feeble to afford him. He issued his orders accordingly to Castaldo, who willingly undertook that infamous service. Having communicated the design to some Italian and Spanish officers whom he could trust, and concerted with them the plan of executing it, they entered Martinuzzi's apartment, early one morning [Dec. 18] under pretence of presenting to him some despatches which were to be sent off immediately to Vienna ; and while he perused a paper with attention, one of their number struck him with a poniard in the throat. The blow was not mortal. Martinuzzi started up with the intrepidity natural to him, and grappling the assassin, threw him to the ground. But the other conspirators rushing in, an old man, unarmed, and alone, was unable long to sustain such an unequal conflict, and sunk under the wounds which he received from so many hands. The Transylvanians were restrained by dread of the foreign troops stationed in their country, from rising in arms in order to take vengeance on the murderers of a prelate who had long been the object of their love as well as veneration. They spoke of the deed, however, with horror and execration; and exclaimed against Ferdinand, whom neither gratitude for recent and impoi- tant services, nor. reverence for a character considered as sacred and invio- EMPEROR CHARLES V. 401 lable among Christians, could restrain from shedding the blood of a man, whose only crime was attachment to his native country. The noble* detesting the jealous as well as cruel policy of a court, which, upon uncer- tain and improbable surmises, had given up a person, no less conspicuous for his merit than his rank, to be butchered by assassins, either retired to their own estates, or if they continued with the Austrian army, grew cold to the service. The Turks, encouraged by the death of an enemy whose abilities they knew and dreaded, prepared to renew hostilities early in the spring ; and instead of the security which Ferdinand had expected from the removal of Martinuzzi, it was evident that his territories in Hungary were about to be attacked with greater vigour, and defended. Avith less zeal than ever.* By this time, Maurice having almost finished his intrigues and prepara- tions, was on the point of declaring his intentions openly, and of taking the field against the emperor. His first care, after he came to this, resolu- tion, was to disclaim that narrow and bigoted maxim of the confederates of Smalkalde, which had led them to shun all connection with foreigners. He had observed how fatal this had been to their cause ; and, instructed by their error, he was as eager to court the protection of Henry II. as they had been solicitous to prevent the interposition of Francis I. Happily for him, he found Henry in a disposition to listen to the first overture on his part, and in a situation which enabled him to bring the whole force of the French monarchy into action. Henry had long observed the progress of the emperor's arms with jealousy, and wished to distinguish himself by entering the lists against the same enemy, whom it had been the glory of his father's reign to oppose. He had laid hold on the first opportunity in his power of thwarting the emperor's designs, by taking the duke of Parma under his protection ; and hostilities were already begun, not only in that dutchy, but in Piedmont. Having terminated the war with England by a peace, no less advantageous to himself than honourable for his allies the Scots, the restless and enterprising courage of his nobles was impatient to display itself on some theatre ot action more conspicuous than the petty operations in Parma or Piedmont afforded them. John de Fienne, bishop of Bayonne, whom Henry had sent into Germany, under pretence of hiring troops to be employed in Italy, was empowered to conclude a treaty in form with Maurice and his associates. As it would have been very indecent in a king of France to have undertaken the defence of the protestant church, the interests of religion, how much soever they might be affected by the treaty, were not once mentioned in any of the articles. Religious concerns, they pretended to commit entirely to the disposition of Divine Providence ; the only motives assigned for their present confederacy against Charles, were to procure the landgrave liberty, and to prevent the subversion of the ancient constitution and laws of the German empire. In order to accomplish these ends, it was agreed, that all the contracting parties should, at the same time, declare war against the emperor ; that neither peace nor truce should be made but by common consent, nor without including each of the confederates ; that, in order to guard against the inconveniences of anarchy, or of pretensions to joint com- mand, Maurice should be acknowledged as head of the German confede- rates, with absolute authority in all military affairs ; that Maurice and his associates should bring into the field seven thousand horse, with a proportional number of infantry : that, towards the subsistence of this army, during the three first months of the war, Homy should contribute two hundred and forty thousand crowns, and afterwards sixty thousand crowns a-month, as long as they continued in arms ; that Henry should attack the emperor on the side of * Sloid. .r>:t5. Tlman. lib. ix. 300, &c. btoanhaffil Hist. Regs. Rongarle], lilt, xvi.189, Ac Mem. de Ribier, ii. 871. NttalicfComitia EfkloriA iil> >v M, fcc Vol. II.— SI |02 THE KEIGN OF THE (Book A. Lorrain with a powerful army ; that if it were found requisite to elect a new emperor, such a person should be nominated as shall be agreeable to the king of France.* This treaty was concluded on the fifth of October, some time before Magdeburg surrendered, and the preparatory negotiations were con- ducted with such profound secrecy, that, of all the princes who afterwards acceded to it, Maurice communicated what he was carrying on to two only, John Albert, the reigning duke of Mecklenburg, and William of Hesse, the landgrave's eldest son. The league itself was no less anxiously concealed, and with such fortunate care, that no rumour concerning it reached the ears of the emperor or his ministers ; nor do they seem to have conceived the most distant suspicion of such a transaction. At the same time, with a solicitude which was careful to draw some accession of strength from every quarter, Maurice applied to Edward VI. of England, and requested a subsidy of four hundred thousand crowns for the support of a confederacy formed in defence of the protestant religion. But the factions which prevailed in the English court during the minority of that prince, and which deprived both the councils and arms of the nation of their wonted vigour, left the English ministers neither time nor inclination to attend to foreign affairs, and prevented Maurice's obtaining that aid, which their zeal for the reformation would have prompted theru to grant him.t Maurice, however, having secured the protection of such a powerful monarch as Henry II., proceeded with great confidence, but with equal caution, to execute his plan. As he judged it necessary to make one effort more, in order to obtain the emperor's consent that the landgrave should be set at liberty, he sent a solemn embassy, in his own name and in that of the elector of Brandenburg, to Inspruck [Decern.]. After resuming, at great length, all the facts and arguments upon which they lounded their claim, and representing, in the strongest terms, the peculiar engagements which bound them to be so assiduous in their solicitations, they renewed their request in behalf of the unfortunate prisoner, which they had so often preferred in vain. The elector palatine, the duke of Wurtemberg, the dukes of Mecklenburg, the dukes of Deux-Ponts, the marquis of Bran- denburg Bareith, and the marquis of Baden, by their ambassadors, concurred with them in their suit. Letters were likewise delivered to the same effect from the king-of Denmark, the duke of Bavaria, and the dukes of Lunenburg. Even the king of the Romans joined in this application, being moved with compassion towards the landgrave in his wretched situation, or influenced, perhaps, by a secret jealousy of his brother's power and designs, which, since his attempt to alter the order of succession in the empire, he had come to view with other eyes than formerly, and dreaded to a great degree. But Charles, constant to his own system with regard to the landgrave, eluded a demand urged by such powerful intercessors ; and having declared that he would communicate his resolution concerning the matter to Maurice as soon as he arrived at Inspruck, where he was every day expected, he did not deign to descend into any more particular explication ol his inten- tions.J This application, though of no benefit to the landgrave, was ©f great advantage to Maurice. It served to justify his subsequent proceedings, and to demonstrate the necessity of employing arms in order to extort that equitable concession, which his mediation or entreaty could not obtain. It was of use, too, to confirm the emperor in his security, as both the solemnity of the application, and the solicitude with which so many prince^ were drawn in to enforce it, led him to conclude that they placed all * Becueil des Traitez, torn. ii. 258. Thuan. lib. vui. 279. t Burnet's Hist of the Reform, vol. ii. Append. 37. 1 .^leid. 531. Thnan. lib. viii. QHO. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 403 their hopes of restoring the landgrave to liberty, in gaining his consent to dismiss him. 1552.} Maurice employed artifices still more refined to conceal his machinations, to amuse the emperor, and to gain" time. He affected to be more solicitous than ever to find out some expedient for removing the difficulties with regard to the safe-conduct for the protestant divines appointed to attend the council, so that they might repair thither without any apprehension of danger. His ambassadors at Trent had frequent con- ferences concerning this ma.tter with the Imperial ambassadors in that city, and laid open their sentiments to them with the appearance of the most, unreserved confidence. He was willing, at last, to have it believed, that he thought all differences with respect to this preliminary article were on the point of being adjusted ; and in order to a;ive credit to this opinion, he commanded Melancthon, together with bis brethren, to set out on their journey to Trent. At the same time he held a close correspondence with the Imperial court at Inspruck, and renewed on every occasion his pro- fessions not only of fidelity but of attachment to the emperor. He talked continually of his intention of going to Inspruck in person ; he gave orders to hire a house for him in that city, and to fit it up with the greatest despatch for his reception* But profoundly skilled as Maurice was in the arts of deceit, and impe- netrable as he thought the veil to be, under which he concealed his designs, there were several things in his conduct which alarmed the emperor amidst his security, and tempted him frequently to suspect that he was meditating something extraordinary. As these suspicions took their rise from circumstances inconsiderable in themselves, or of an ambiguous as well as uncertain nature, they were more than counterbalanced by Mau- rice's address ; and the emperor would not, lightly, give up his confidence in a man, whom he had once trusted and loaded with favours. One par- ticular alone seemed to be of such consequence, that he thought it neces- sary to demand an explanation with regard to it. The troops, which George of Mecklenburg had taken into pay after the capitulation of Mag- deburg, having fixed their quarters in Thuringia, lived at discretion on the lands of the rich ecclesiastics m their neighbourhood. Their license and rapaciousness were intolerable. Such as felt or dreaded their exactions, complained loudly to the emperor, and represented them as a body of men kept in readiness for some desperate enterprise. But Maurice, partly by extenuating the enormities of which they had been guilty, partly by repre- senting the impossibility of disbanding these troops, or of keeping them to regular discipline, unless the arrears still due to them by the emperor were paid, either removed the apprehensions which this bad occasioned, or, as Charles was not in a condition to satisfy the demands of these soldiers. obliged him to be silent with regard to the matter. t The time of action was now approaching. Maurice had privately despatched Albert of Brandenburg to Paris, in order to confirm his league with Henry, and to hasten the march of the French army. He had taken measures to bring his own subjects together on the first summons ; he had provided for the security of Saxony, while he should be absent with the army ; and be held the troops in Thuringia, on which he chiefly depended, ready to advance on a moment's warning. All these complicated opera- tions were carried on without being discovered by the court at Inspruck, and the emperor remained there in perfeel tranquillity, busied entirely in counteracting the intrigues of the pope's legate at Tient, and in settling the conditions on which the protestant divines should be admitted into the council, as if there had not been any transaction of greater moment in agitation. * ArnotriivHaMairrit. ap. Jlenken. li. 1IC9 • PloW. olfl. Thtiaa. 339 404 THE UEIGN OP THE [Book X. This credulous security in a prince, who, by his sagacity in observing the conduct of all around him, was commonly led to an excess of distrust, may seem unaccountable, and has been imputed to infatuation. But besides the exquisite address with which Maurice concealed his intentions, two circumstances contributed to the delusion. The gout had returned upon Charles soon after his arrival at Inspruck, with an increase of violence ; and his constitution being broken by such frequent attacks, he was seldom able to exert bis natural vigour of mind, or to consider affairs with his usual vigilance and penetration ; and Granvelle, bishop of Arras, his prime minister, though one of the most subtle statesmen oil that or perhaps of any age, was on this occasion the dupe of his craft. He entertained such a high opinion of his own abilities, and held the political talents of the Ger- mans in such contempt, that he despised all the intimations given him con- cerning Maurice's secret machinations, or the dangerous designs which he was carrying on. When the duke ol Alva, whose dark suspicious mind harboured many doubts concerning the elector's sincerity, proposed calling him immediately to court to answer for his conduct, Granvelle replied with great scorn, That these apprehensions were groundless, and that a drunken German head was too gross to form any scheme which he could not easily penetrate and baffle. Nor did he assume this peremptory tone merely from confidence in his own discernment; he had bribed two of Maurice's ministers, and received from them frequent and minute informa- tion concerning all their master's motions. But through this very channel, by which he expected to gain access to all Maurice's counsels, and even to his thoughts, such intelligence was conveyed to him as completed his deception. Maurice fortunately discovered the correspondence of the two traitors with Granvelle, but instead of punishing them for their crime, he dexterously availed himself of their fraud, and turned his own arts against the bishop. He affected to treat these ministers with greater confidence than ever ; he admitted them to his consultations ; he seemed to lay open his heart to them ; and taking care all the while to let them be acquainted with nothing but what was his interest should be known, they transmitted to Inspruck such accounts as "possessed Granvelle with a firm belief of his sincerity as well as good intentions.* The emperor himself, in the fulness of security, was so little moved by a memorial, in the name of the eccle- siastical electors, admonishing him to be on his guard against Maurice, that he made light of this intelligence; and his answer to them abounds with declarations of his entire and confident reliance on the fidelity as well as attachment of that prince. t At last Maurice's preparations were completed, and he had the satisfac- tion to find that his intrigues and designs were still unknown. But, though now ready to take the held, he did not lay aside the arts which he had hitherto employed ; and by one piece of craft more, he deceived his ene- mies a few days longer. He gave out, that he was about to begin that journey to Inspruck of which he had so often talked, and he took one of the ministers whom Granvelle had' bribed, to attend him thither. After tra- velling post a few stages, he pretended to be indisposed by the fatigue of the journey, and despatching the suspected minister to make his apology to the emperor for this delay, and to assure him that he would be at Inspruck within a few days ; he mounted on horseback, as soon as this spy on his actions was gone, rode full speed towards Thuringia, joined his army, which amounted to twenty thousand foot and five thousand horse, and put it immediately in motion [March 18J.J * Melvil's Memoirs, fol. edit. p. 12. t Sleid. 535 X Melv. Mem. p. 13. These circumstances concerning the Saxon ministers whom Granvelle had Mbed, are not mentioned by the German historians ; but as Sir James Melvil received his informa- (ion from the elector Palatine, and as Uiey are perfectly agreeable to the rest of Maurice's conduct they may be considered as authentic, EMPEROR CHARLES V. 405 At the same time he puhlished a manifesto containing his reasons for taking arms. These were three in number : that he might secure the protestant religion, which was threatened with immediate destruction; that he might maintain the constitution and laws of the empire, and save Germany from being subjected to the dominion of an absolute monarch ; that he might deliver the landgrave of Hesse from the miseries of a long and unjust imprisonment. By the first, he roused all the favourers of the reformation, a party formidable by their zeal as well as numbers, and ren- dered desperate by oppression. By the second, he interested all the friends of liberty, catholics no less than protestants, and made it their interest to unite with him in asserting the rights and privileges common to both. The third, besides the glory which he acquired by his zeal to fulfil his engagements to the unhappy prisoner, was become a cause of general concern, not only from the compassion which the landgrave's sufferings excited, but from indignation at the injustice and rigour of the emperor's proceedings against him. Together with Maurice's manifesto, another appeared in the name of Albert marquis of Brandenburg Culmbach, who had joined him with a body of adventurers whom he had drawn together. The same grievances which Maurice had pointed out are mentioned in it. but with an excess of virulence and animosity suitable to the character of the prince in whose name it was published. The king of France added to these a manifesto in his own name ; in which, after taking notice of the ancient alliance between the French and German nations, both descended from the same ancestors ; and after men- tioning the applications which, in consequence of this, some of the most illustrious among the German princes had made to him for his protection ; he declared, that he now took arms to re-establish the ancient constitution of the empire, to deliver some of its princes from captivity, and to secure the privileges and independence of all the members of the Germanic body. In this manifesto, Henry assumed the extraordinary title of Protector of the Liberties of Germany and of its captive Princes; and there was engraved on it a cap, the ancient symbol of freedom, placed between two daggers, in order to intimate to the Germans, that this blessing was to be acquired and secured by force of arms.* Maurice had now to-act a part entirely new ; but his flexible genius was capable of accommodating itself to every situation. The moment he took arms, he was as bold and enterprising in the field, as he had been cautious and crafty in the cabinet. He advanced by rapid marches towards the Upper Germany. All the towns in his way opened their gates to him. He reinstated the magistrates whom the emperor had deposed, and gave possession of the churches to the protestant ministers whom he had ejected. He directed his march to Augsburg, and as the Imperial garrison, which was too inconsiderable to think of defending it, retired immediately, he took possession of that great city [April l], and made the same changes there as in the towns through which he had passed.! No words can express the emperor's astonishment and consternation at events so unexpected. He saw a great number of the German princes in arms against him, and the rest either ready to join them, or wishing success to their enterprise. He beheld a powerful monarch united with them in close league, seconding their operations in person at the head ot a formi- dable army, while he, through negligence and credulity, which exposed him no less to scorn than to danger, had neither made, nor was in a condi- tion to make, any effectual provision, either for crushing his rebellious subjects, or resisting the invasion of the foreign enemy. Part of his Spanish troops had been ordered into Hungary against the Turks ; the rest had marched back to Italy upon occasion of the war in the dutchy of • 9leid. 540. Thuan. lib. ». 339. Mom. do Ribicr. ii. 371. t Fleid. ttr, Tbufin. 342. 406 THE REIGN OF THE [Book X. Farina. The bands of veteran Germans had been dismissed, because he was not able to pay them ; or had entered into Maurice's service after the siege of Magdeburg ; and he remained at Inspruck with a body of soldiers hardly strong enough to guard his own person. His treasury was as much exhausted, as his army was reduced. He had received no remittances for some time from the new world. He had forfeited all credit with the merchants of Genoa and Venice, who refused to lend him money, though tempted by the offer of exorbitant interest. Thus Charles, though un- doubtedly the most considerable potentate in Christendom, and capable of exerting the greatest strength, his power, notwithstanding the violin' attack made upon it, being still unimpaired, found himself in a situation which rendered him unable to make such a sudden and vigorous effort as the juncture required, and was necessary to have saved him from the pre- sent danger. In this situation, the emperor placed all his hopes upon negotiating ; the only resource of such as are conscious of their own weakness. But thinking it inconsistent with his dignity to make the first advances to sub- jects who were in arms against him, he avoided that indecorum by employing the mediation of his brother Ferdinand. Maurice confiding in his own talents to conduct any negotiation in such a manner as to derive advantage from it, and hoping that, by the appearance of facility in hearkening to the first overture of accommodation, he might amuse the emperor, and tempt him to slacken the activity with which he was now- preparing to defend himself, readily agreed to an interview with Ferdi- nand in the town of Lintz in Austria ; and having left his army to proceed on its march under the command of the duke of Mecklenburg, he repaired thither. Meanwhile the king of France punctually fulfilled his engagements to the allies. He took the field early, with a numerous and well-appointed army, and marching directly into Lorrain, Toul and Verdun opened their gates at his approach. His forces appeared next before Metz, and that city, by a fraudulent stratagem of the constable Montmorency, who having obtained permission to pass through it with a small guard, introduced as many troops as were sufficient to overpower the garrison, was likewise seized without bloodshed. Henry made his entry into all these towns with great pomp ; he obliged the inhabitants to swear allegiance to him, and annexed those important conquests to the French monarchy. He left a strong garrison in Metz. From thence he advanced towards Alsace, in order to" attempt new conquests, to which the success that had hitherto attended his arms invited him.* The conference at Lintz did not produce an accommodation. Maurice, when he consented to it, seems to have had nothing in view but to amuse the emperor ; for he made such demands, both in behalf of his confederates and their ally the French king as he knew would not be accepted by a Srince, too haughty to submit, at once, to conditions dictated by an enemy, ut, however firmly Maurice adhered during the negotiation to the interest of his associates, or how steadily soever he kept in view the objects which had induced him to take arms, he often professed a strong inclination to terminate the differences with the emperor in an amicable manner. Encouraged by this appearance of a pacific disposition, Ferdinand pro- posed a second interview at Passau on the twenty-sixth of May, and that a truce should commence on that day, and continue to the tenth of June, in order to give them leisure for adjusting all the points in dispute. Upon this, Maurice rejoined his army on the ninth of May, which had now advanced to Gundelfingen. 1 te put his troops in motion next morning ; aud as sixteen days yet remained for action before the commencement of EMPEROR CHARLES V. 467 the truce, he resolved during that period, to venture upon an enterprise, the success of which would be so decisive, as to render the negotiations at Fassau extremely short, and entitle him to treat upon his own terms. He foresaw that the prospect of a cessation of arms, which was to take place so soon, together with the opinion of his earnestness to re-establish peace, with which he had artfully amused Ferdinand, could hardly fail of in- spiring the emperor with such false hopes, that he would naturally become remiss, and relapse into some degree of that security which had already been so fatal to him. Relying on this conjecture, he marched directly at the head of his army towards Inspruck, and advanced with the most rapid motion that could be given to so great a body of troops. On the eigh- teenth, he arrived at Fiessen, a posf of great consequence, at the entrance into the Tyrolese. There he found a body of eight hundred men, whom the emperor had assembled, strongly intrenched, in order to oppose his progress. He attacked them instantly with such violence and impetuosity, that they abandoned their lines precipitately, and falling back on a second body posted near Ruten, communicated the panic terror with which they themselves had been seized, to those troops ; so that they likewise took to flight, after a feeble resistance. Elated with this success, which exceeded his most sanguine hopes, Maurice pressed forward to Ehrenbergh, a castle situated on a high and steep precipice, which commanded the only pass through the mountains. As this fort had been surrendered to the protestants at the beginning of the Smalkaldic war, because the garrison was then too weak to defend it, the emperor, sensible of its importance, had taken care, at this juncture, to throw into it a body of troops sufficient to maintain it against the greatest army. But a shepherd, in pursuing a goat which had strayed from his flock, having. discovered an unknown path by which it was possible to ascend to the top of the rock, came with this seasonable piece of intelligence to Maurice. A small band of chosen soldiers, under the command of George of Alecklenburg, was instantly ordered to follow this guide. They set out in the evening, and clambering up the rugged track with infinite fatigue as well as danger, they reached the summit unperceived ; and at an hour which had been agreed on, when Maurice began the assault on the one side of the castle, they appeared on the other, ready to scale the walls, which were feeble in that place, because it had been hitherto deemed inaccessible. The garrison, struck with terror at the sight of an enemy on a quarter where they had thought themselves perfectly secure, imme- diately threw down their arms. Maurice, almost without bloodshed, and, which was of greater consequence to him, without loss of time, took pos- session of a place, the reduction of which might have retarded him long, and have required the utmost efforts of his valour and skill.* M urice was now only two days march from Inspruck, and without losing a moment he ordered his infantry to advance thither, having left his cavalry, which was unserviceable in that mountainous country, at Fiessen, to guard the mouth of the pass. He proposed to advance with such rapidity as to anticipate any accounts of the loss of Ehrenbergh, and to surprise the emperor, together with his attendants, in an open town incapable of defence. But just as his troops began to move, a battalion ol . mercenaries mutinied, declaring that they would not stir until they had received the gratuity, which, according to the custom of that age, they claimed as the recompense due to them for having taken a place by assault. It was with great difficulty, as well as danger, and not without some consi- derable loss of time, that Maurice quieted this insurrection, and prevailed on the soldiers to follow him to a place where he promised them such rich booty as would be an ample reward for all their services. * ArnnlHi Vita Mauri!. TC3 408 THE REIGN OF THE [Hook X. To the delay, occasioned by this unforeseen accident, the emperor owed his safety. He was informed of the approaching danger late in the evening, and knowing that nothing could save him but a speedy flight, he instantly left Inspruck, without regarding the darkness of the night, or the violence of the rain which happened to fall at that time ; and notwith- standing the debility occasioned by the gout, which rendered him unable to bear any motion but that of a litter, he travelled by the light of torches, taking his way over the Alps, by roads almost impassable. His courtiers and attendants followed him with equal precipitation, some of them on such horses as they could hastily procure, many of them on foot, and all in the utmost confusion. In this miserable plight, very unlike the pomp with which Charles had appeared during the five preceding years as the con- queror of Germany, he arrived at length with his dejected train at Villach in Carinthia, and scarcely thought himself secure even at that remote inac- cessible corner. Maurice entered Inspruck a few hours after the emperor and his attend- ants had left it ; and enraged that the prey should escape out of his hands when he was just ready to seize it, he pursued them some miles; but finding it impossible to overtake persons, to whom their fear gave speed, he returned to the town, and abandoned all the emperor's baggage, together with that of the ministers, to be plundered by the soldiers ; while he preserved untouched every thing belonging to the king of the Romans, either because he had formed some friendly connexion with that prince, or because he wished to have it believed that such a connexion subsisted between them. As there now remained only three days to the commence- ment of the truce, (with such nicety had Maurice calculated his opera- tions,) he set out for Passau, that he might meet Ferdinand on the day appointed. Before Charles left Inspruck, he withdrew the guards placed on the degraded elector of Saxony, whom, during five years, he had carried about with him as a prisoner, and set him entirely at liberty, either with an inten- tion to embarrass Maurice by letting loose a rival, who might dispute his title to his dominions and dignity, or from a sense of the indecency of detaining him a prisoner, while he himself run the risk of being deprived of his own liberty. But that prince, seeing no other way of escaping than that which the emperor took, and abhorring the thoughts of falling into the hands of a kinsman, whom he justly considered as the author of all his misfortunes, chose rather to accompany Charles in his flight, and to expect die final decision of his fate from the treaty which was now approaching. These were not the only effects which Maurice's operations produced. It was no sooner known at Trent that he had taken arms, than a general consternation seized the fathers of the council. The German prelates im- mediately returned home, that they might provide for the safety of their respective territories. The rest were extremely impatient to be gone : and the legate, who had hitherto disappointed all the endeavours of the Imperial ambassadors to procure an audience in the council for the protes- tant divines, laid hold with joy on such a plausible pretext for dismissing an assembly, which he had found it so difficult to govern. In a congrega- tion held on the twenty-eighth of April, a decree was issued proroguing the council during two years, and appointing it to meet at the expiration of that time, if peace were then re-established in Europe.* This proroga- tion, however, continued no less than ten years ; and the proceedings of the council, when reassembled in the year one thousand five hundred and sixty-two, fall not within the period prescribed to this history. 1 he convocation of this assembly had been passionately desired by all the states and princes in Christendom who, from the wisdom as well as * P. Paul, 3.W. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 409 piety of prelates representing the whole body of the faithful, expected some charitable and efficacious endeavours towards composing the dissen- sions which unhappily had arisen in the church. But the several popes by whose authority it was called, had other objects in view. They exerted all their power or policy to attain these ; and by the abilities as well as address of their legates, by the ignorance of many of the prelates, and by the servility of the indigent Italian bishops, acquired such influence in the council, that they dictated all its decrees, and framed them not with an intention to restore unity and concord to the church, but to establish their own dominion, or to confirm those tenets, upon which they imagined that dominion to be founded. Doctrines which had hitherto been admitted upon the credit of tradition alone, and received with some latitude of inter- pretation, were defined with a scrupulous nicety, and confirmed by the sanction of authority. Rites, which had formerly been observed only in deference to custom supposed to be ancient, were established by the decrees of the church, and declared to be essential parts of its worship. The breach, instead of being closed, was widened, and made irreparable. In place of any attempt to reconcile the contending parties, a line was drawn with such studied accuracy, as ascertained and marked out the distinction between them. This still serves to keep them at a distance ; and without some signal interposition of Divine Providence, must render the separation perpetual. Our knowledge of the proceedings of this assembly, is derived from three different authors. Father Paul of "Venice wrote his history of the council of Trent, while the memory of what had passed there was recent, and some who had been members of it were still alive. He has exposed the intrigues and artifices by which it was conducted, with a freedom and severity which have given a deep wound to the credit of the council. He has described its deliberations, and explained its decrees, with such perspi- cuity, and depth of thought, with such various erudition and such force of reason, as have justly entitled his work to be placed among the most admired historical compositions. About half a century thereafter, the Jesuit Pallavicini published his history of the council, in opposition to that of Father Paul, and by employing all the force of an acute and refining genius to invalidate the credit, or to confute the reasonings of his antagonist, he labours to prove, by artful apologies for the proceedings of the council, and subtle interpretations of its decrees, that it deliberated with impartiality, and decided with judgment as well as candour. Vargas, a Spanish doctor of laws, who was appointed to attend the Imperial ambassadors at Trent, sent the bishop of Arras a regular account of the transactions there, explain- ing all the arts which the legate employed to influence or overawe the council. His letters have been published, in which he inveighs against the papal court with that asperity of censure, which was natural to a man whose situation enabled him to observe its intrigues thoroughly, and who was obliged to exert all his attention and talents in order to disappoint them. But whichsoever of these authors an intelligent person takes for his guide, in forming a judgment concerning the spirit of the council, he must discover so much ambition as well as artifice among some of the members ; so much ignorance and corruption among others ; he must observe such a large infu- sion of human policy and passions, mingled with such a scanty portion of that simplicity of heart, sanctity of manners, and love of truth, which alone qualify men to determine what doctrines are worthy of God, and what worship is acceptable to him ; that he will find it no easy matter to believe, that any extraordinaiy influence of the Holy Ghost hovered over this assembly, and dictated its decrees. While Maurice was employed in negotiating with the king of the Romans at Lintz, or in making war on the emperor in the Tyrol, the French king had advanced into Alsace as far as Strasburs: ; and having demanded leave; Vol. If.— 52 410 THE REIGN OF THE [Booh X. of the senate to march through the city, he hoped that, by repeating the same fraud which he had practised at Metz, he might render himself master of the place, and by that means secure a passage over the Rhine into the heart of Germany. But the Strasburgers, instructed and put on their guard by the credulity and misfortune of their neighbours, shut their gates ; and having assembled a garrison of five thousand soldiers, repaired their fortifications, rased the houses in their suburbs, and determined to defend themselves to the utmost. At the same time they sent a deputation of their most respectable citizens to the king, in order to dhert him from making any hostile attempt upon them. The electors of Treves and Cologne, the duke of Cleves, and other princes in the neighbourhood, inter- posed in their behalf; beseeching Henry that he would not forget so soon the title which he had generously assumed ; and instead of being the de- liverer of German}', become its oppressor. The Swiss Cantons seconded them with zeal, soliciting Henry to spare a city which had long been con- nected with their community in friendship and alliance. Powerful as this united intercession was, it would not have prevailed on Henry to forego a prize of so much value, if he had been in a condition to have seized it. Hut. in that a£e> the method of subsisting numerous armies at a distance from the frontiers of their own country, was imperfectly under- stood, and neither the revenues of princes, nor their experience in the art of war, were equal to the great and complicated efforts which such an undertaking required. The French, though not far removed from their own frontier, began already to suffer from scarcity of provisions, and had no sufficient magazines collected to support them during a siege which must necessarily have been of great length.* At the same time, the queen of Hungary, governess of the Low-Countries, had assembled a considerable body of troops, which, under the command of Martin de Rossem, laid waste Champagne, and threatened the adjacent provinces of France. These concurring circumstances obliged the king, though with reluctance, to abandon the enterprise. But being willing to acquire some merit with his allies, by this retreat which he could not avoid, he pretended to the Swiss that he had taken the ^resolution merely in compliance with their request ;| and then, after giving orders that all the horses in his army should be led to drink in the Rhine, as a proof of his having pushed his conquest so far, he marched back towards Champagne. While the French king and the main army of the confederates were thus employed, Albert of Brandenburg was intrusted with the command of a separate body of eight thousand men, consisting chiefly of mercenaries who had resorted to his standard, rather from the hope of plunder, than the expectation of regular pay. That prince, seeing himself at the head of such a number of desperate adventurers, ready to follow wherever he should lead them, soon began to disdain a state of subordination, and to form such extravagant schemes of aggrandizing himself, as seldom occur, even to ambitious minds, unless when civil war or violent factions rouse them to bold exertions, by alluring them with immediate hopes of success. Full of these aspiring thoughts, Albert made war in a manner very different from the other confederales. He endeavoured to spread the terror of his arms by the rapidity of his motions, as well asthe extent and rigour of his devas- tations; he exacted contributions wherever he came, in order to amass such a sum of money, as would put it in his power to keep his army together ; he laboured to get possession of Nuremberg, Ulm, or some other of the free cities in Upper Germany, in which, as a capital, he might fix the seal ot his power. But, finding these cities on their guard, and in a condition to resist his attacks, he turned all his rage against the popish ecclesiastics, whose territories he plundered with such wanton and merciless barbarity * Thimn. 351, 352. »>Sleitf. 557. Brantwne. Com. vH. 3ft EMPEROR CHARLES V. 411 as gave them a very unfavourable impression of the spirit of that reforma- tion in religion, with zeal for which he pretended to be animated. The bishops of Basnbergh and Wurzburgh, by their situation, lay particularly exposed to his ravages ; he obliged the former to transfer to him, in pro- perty, almost one half of his extensive diocess ; and compelled the latter to advance a great sum of money in order to save his territories from ruin and desolation. During all those wild sallies, Albert paid no regard either to Maurice's orders, whose commands as generalissimo of the league he had engaged to obey, or to the remonstrances of the other confederates ; and manifestly discovered, that he attended only to his own private emolu- ment, without any solicitude about the common cause, or the general objects which bad induced them to take arms.* Maurice having ordered his army to march back into Bavaria, and having published a proclamation enjoining the Lutheran clergy and instructers of youth, to resume the exercise of their functions, in all the cities, schools, and universities from which they had been ejected, met Ferdinaad at Passau on 'he twenty-sixth day of May. As matters of the gi" itest consequence to the future peace and independence of the empire were to be settled in this congress, the eyes of all Germany were fixed upon it. Besides Ferdinand and the Imperial ambassadors, the duke of Bavaria, the bishops of Saltzburg and Aichstadt, the ministers of all the electors, together with deputies from most of the considerable princes and free cities, resorted to Passau. Maurice, in the name of his associates, and the king of the Romans as the emperor's representative, opened the negotiation. The princes who were present, together with the deputies of such as were absent, acted as intercessors or mediators between them . Maurice, in a long discourse, explained the motives of his own conduct. After having enumerated all the unconstitutional and oppressive acts of the emperor's administration, he, agreeably to the manifesto which he had published when he took arms against him, limited his demands to three articles : That the landgrave of Hesse should be immediately set at liberty; that the grievances in the civil government of the empire should be redressed ; and that the protestants should be allowed the public exer- cise of their religion without molestation. Ferdinand and the Imperial ambassadors discovering their unwillingness to gratify him with regard to all these points, the mediators wrote a joint letter to the emperor, beseech- ing him to deliver Germany from the calamities of a civil war, by giving such satisfaction to Maurice and his party as might induce them to lay down their arms ; and at the same time they prevailed upon Maurice to grant a prolongation of the truce for a short time, during which they undertook to procure the emperor's final answer to his demands. This request was presented to the emperor in the name of all the prince? of the empire, popish as well as protestant, in the name of such as had lent a helping hand to forward his ambitious schemes, as well as of those who had viewed the progress of his power with jealousy and dread. The uncommon and cordial unanimity with which they concurred at this junc- ture in enforcing Maurice's demands, and in recommending peace, flowed from different causes. Such as were most attached to the Roman catholic church could not help observing, that the protestant confederates were at the head of a numerous army, while the emperor was but just beginning to provide for his own defence. They foresaw that great efforts would be required of them, and would be necessary on their part, in order to cope with enemies, who had been allowed to get the start so far, and to attain such formidable power. Experience had taught them, that the fruit of all these efforts would be reaped by the empeior alone, and the more com- plete any victory proved which they should gain, the faster would the1*' * Steid. SBl Thuan 412 THE REIGN OF THE [Book X. bind their own fetters, and render them the more intolerable. These reflections made them caulious how they contributed a second time, by their indiscreet zeal, to put the emperor in possession of power which would be fatal to the liberties of their country. Notwithstanding the intolerant spirit of bigotry in that age, they chose rather that the protestants should acquire that security for their religion which they demanded, than by assisting Charles to oppress them, to give such additional force to the Imperial prerogative, as would overturn the constitution of the empire. To all these considerations, the dread of seeing Germany laid waste by a civil war added new force. Many states of the empire already felt the destruc- tive rage of Albert's arms, others dreaded it, and all wished for an accom- modation between the emperor and Maurice, which they hoped would save them from that cruel scourge. Such were the reasons that induced so many princes, notwithstanding the variety of their political interests, and the opposition in their religious sentiments, to unite in recommending to the emperor an accommodation with Maurice, not only as a salutary but as a necessary measure. The motives which prompted Charles to desire it, were not fewer or of less weight. He was perfectly sensible of the superiority which the confede- rates had acquired through his own negligence ; and he now felt the insufficiency of his own resources to oppose them. His Spanish subjects, disgusted at his long absence, and weary of endless wars, which were of little benefit to their country, refused to furnish him any considerable sup- ply either of men or money ; and although by his address or importunity he might have hoped to draw from them at last more effectual aid ; that, he knew, was too distant to be of any serv ice in the present exigency of his affairs. His treasury was drained ; his veteran forces were dispersed or disbanded, and he could not depend much either on the fidelity or courage ot the new levied soldiers whom he was collecting. There was no hope of repeating with success the same artifices which had weakened and ruined the Smalkaldic league. As the end at which he aimed was now known, he could no longer employ the specious pretexts which had formerly concealed his ambitious designs. Every prince in Germany was alarmed and on his guard ; and it was vain to think of blinding them a second time to such a degree, as to make one part of them instruments to enslave the other. The spirit of a confederacy whereof Maurice was the head, experience had taught him to be very different from that of the league of Smalkalde ; and from what he had already felt, he had no reason to flatter himself that its councils would be as irresolute, or its efforts as timid and feeble. If he should resolve on continuing the war, he might be assured, that the most considerable states in Germany would take part in it against him ; and a dubious neutrality was the utmost he could expect from the rest. While the confederates found full employment for his arms in one quarter, the king of France would seize the favourable opportunity, and push on his operations in another, with almost certain success. That monarch had already made conquests in the empire, which Charles was no less eager to recover, than impatient to be revenged on him for aiding his malecontent subjects. Though Henry had now retired from the banks of the Rhine, he had only varied the scene of hostilities, having invaded the Low-Countries with all his forces. The Turks, roused by the solicita- tions of the French king, as well as stimulated by resentment against Ferdinand for having violated the truce in Hungary, had prepared a powerful fleet to ravage the coasts of Naples and Sicily, which he had left almost defenceless, by calling thence the greatest part of the regular troops to join the army which he was now assembling. Ferdinand, who went in person to Villach, in order to lay before the emperor the result of the conferences at Passau, had likewise reasons peculiar to himself for desiring an accommodation. These promised EMPEROR CHARLES V. 413 him to second, with the greatest earnestness, the arguments which the princes assembled there had employed in recommending it. He had observed, not without secret satisfaction, the fatal blow that had been given to the despotic power which his brother had usurped in the empire. He was extremely solicitous to prevent Charles from recovering his former superiority, as he foresaw that amibitious prince would immediately resume, with increased eagerness, and with a better chance of success, his favourite scheme of transmitting that power to his son, by excluding his brother from the right of succession to the Imperial throne. On this account he was willing to contribute towards circumscribing the Imperial authority, in order to render his own possession of it certain. Besides, Solyman, exasperated at the loss of Transylvania, and still more at the fraudulent arts by which it had been seized, had ordered into the field an army of a hundred thousand men, which having defeated a great body of Ferdinand's troops, and taken several places of importance, threatened not only to complete the conquest of the province, but to drive them out of that part of Hungary which was still subject to his jurisdiction. He was unable to resist such a mighty enemy ; the emperor, while engaged in a domestic war, could afford him no aid ; and he could not even hope to draw from Germany the contingent, either of troops or money, usually furnished to repel the invasions of the Infidels. Maurice, having observed Ferdinand's perplexity with regard to this last point, had offered, if peace were re-established on a secure foundation, that he would march in person with his troops into Hungary against the Turks. Such was the effect of this well-timed proposal, that Ferdinand, destitute of every other prospect of relief, became the most zealous advocate whom the contederates could have employed to urge their claims, and there was hardly any thing that they could have demanded which he would not have chosen to grant, rather than have retarded a pacification, to which he trusted as the only means of saving his Hungarian crown. When so many causes conspired in rendering an accommodation eligible, it might have been expected that it would have taken place immediately. But the inflexibility ot the emperor's temper, together with his unwilling ness at once to relinquish objects which he had long pursued with such earnestness and assiduity, counterbalanced, for some time, the force of all the motives which disposed him to peace, and not only put that event at a distance, but seemed to render it uncertain. When Maurice's demands, together with the letter of the mediators at Passau, were presented to him, he peremptorily refused to redress the grievances which were pointed out, nor would he agree to any stipulation for the immediate security of the protestant religion, but proposed referring both these to the determination of a future diet. On his part, he required that instant repa- ration should be made to all who, during the present war, had suffered either by the licentiousness of the confederate troops, or the exactions ot their leaders. Maurice, who was well acquainted with the emperor's arts, immediately concluded that he had nothing in view by these overtures but to amuse and deceive ; and, therefore, without listening to Ferdinand's entreaties, he left Passau abruptly, and joining his troops, which were encamped at Mergentheim, a city in Franconia, belonging to the knights of the Teu- tonic order, he put them in motion, and renewed hostilities. As three thousand men in the emperor's pay had thrown themselves into Frankfort on the Maine, and might from thence infest the neighbouring country of Hesse, he marched towards that city, and laid siege to it in form [July 17]. The briskness of this enterprise, and the vigour with which Maurice car- ried on his approaches against the town, gave such an alarm to the emperor, as disposed him to lend a more tavourable ear to Ferdinand's arguments in behalf of an accommodation. Firm and haughty as his 414 THE REIGN OF THE [Book X. nature was, he found it necessary to bend, and signified his willingness to make concessions on his part, if Maurice, in return, would abate some- what of the rigour of his demands. Ferdinand, as soon as he perceived that his brother began to }Tield, did not desist from his importunities, until he prevailed on him to declare what was the utmost that he would grant for the security of the confederates. Having gained this difficult point, he instantly despatched a messenger to Maurice's camp, and, imparting to him the emperor's final resolution, conjured him not to frustrate his endeavours for the re-establishment of peace ; or, by an unseasonable obstinacy on his side, to disappoint the wishes of all Germany for that salutary event. Maurice, notwithstanding the prosperous situation of his affairs, was strongly inclined to listen to this advice. The emperor, though over- reached and surprised, had now begun to assemble troops, and however slow his motions might be, while the first effects of his consternation remained, he was sensible tbat Charles must at last act with vigour pro- portional to the extent of his power and territories, and lead into Germany an army formidable by its numbers, and still more by the terror of his name, as well as the remembrance of his past victories. He could scarcely hope that a confederacy composed of so many members would continue to operate with union and perseverance sufficient to resist the consistent and well-directed efforts of an army, at the absolute disposal of a leader accustomed to command and to conquer. He felt, already, although he had not hitherto experienced the shock of any adverse event, that he him- self was at the head of a disjointed body. He saw, from the example of Albert of Brandenburg, how difficult it would be, with all his address and credit, to prevent any particular member from detaching himself from the whole, and how impossible to recall him to his proper rank and subordi- nation. This filled him with apprehensions for the common cause. Another consideration gave him no less disquiet with regard to his own particular interests. By setting at liberty the degraded elector, and by repealing the act by which that prince was deprived of his hereditary honours and dominions, the emperor had it in his power to wound him in the most tender part. The efforts of a prince beloved by his ancient sub- jects, and revered by all the protestant party, in order to recover what had been unjustly taken from him, could hardly have failed of exciting commotions in Saxony, which would endanger all that he had acquired at the expense of so much dissimulation and artifice. It was no less in the emperors power to render vain all the solicitations of the confederates in behalf of the landgrave. He had only to add one act of violence more to the injustice and rigour with which he had already treated him ; and he had accordingly threatened the sons of that unfortunate prince, that if they persisted in their present enterprise, instead of seeing their father restored to liberty, they should hear of his having suffered the punishment which his rebellion had merited.* Having deliberated upon all these points with nis associates, Maurice thought it more prudent to accept of the conditions offered, though less advantageous than those which he had proposed, than again to commit all to the doubtful issue of war.t He repaired forthwith to Passau, and signed the treaty of peace ; of which the chief articles were, That before the twelfth day of August, the confederates shall lay down their arms, and disband their forces ; That on or before that day the landgrave shall be set at liberty, and conveyed in safety to his castle of Rhemfels ; That a diet shall be held within six months [August 2], in order to deliberate concerning the most proper and effectual method of preventing for the future all disputes and dissensions about religion ; That in the mean time. •* SMciil. 5T1. + Bleld, Flist. 5«i3. &r. Tim an. lib. x. 359, &e. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 415 neither the emperor, nor any other prince, shall upon any pretext what- ever, offer any injury or violence to such as adhered to the confession oi Augsburg, but allow them to enjoy the free and undisturbed exercise oi their religion ; That, in return, the protestants shall not molest the catholics either in the exercise of their ecclesiastical jurisdiction, or in performing their religious ceremonies ; That the Imperial chamber shall administer justice impartially to persons of both parties, and protestants be admitted indiscriminately with the catholics to sit as judges in that court ; That it the next diet should not be able to terminate the disputes with regard to religion, the stipulations in the present treaty in behalf of the protestants shall continue for ever in full force and vigour ; That none of the confe- derates shall be liable to any action on account of what had happened during the course of the war ; That the consideration of those encroach- ments which had been made, as Maurice pretended, upon the constitution and liberties of the empire,* shall be remitted to the approaching diet ; That Albert of Brandenburg shall be comprehended in the treaty, provided he shall accede to it, and disband his forces before the twelfth of August. Such was the memorable treaty of Passau, that overturned the vast fabric, in erecting which Charles had employed so many years, and had exerted the utmost efforts of his power and policy ; that annulled all his regulations with regard to religion ; defeated all his hopes of rendering the Imperial authority absolute and hereditary in his family ; and estab- lished the protestant church, which had hitherto subsisted precariously in Germany, through connivance, or by expedients, upon a firm and secure basis. Maurice reaped all the giory of having concerted and completed this unexpected revolution. It is a singular circumstance, that the reform- ation should be indebted for its security and full establishment in Ger- many, to the same hand which had brought it to the brink of destruction, and that both events should have been accomplished by the same arts ot dissimulation. The ends, however, which Maurice had in view, at those different junctures, seem to have been more attended to than the means by which he attained them ; and he was now as universally extolled for his zeal and public spirit as he had lately been condemned for his indiffer- ence and interested policy. It is no less worthy of observation, that the French king, a monarch zealous for the catholic faith, should employ his power in order to protect and maintain the reformation in the empire, at the very time when he was persecuting his.own protestant subjects with all the fierceness of bigotry, and that the league (or this purpose, which proved so fatal to the Romish church, should be negotiated and signed by a Roman catholic bishop So wonderfully doth the wisdom of God superintend and regulate the caprice ot' human passions, and render them subservient towards the accomplishment of his own purposes. Little attention was paid to the interests of the French king during the negotiations at Passau. Maurice and his associates, having gained what they had in view, discovered no great solicitude about an ally, whom, perhaps, they reckoned to be overpaid for the assistance which he had given them, by his acquisitions in Lorrain. A short clause which thejr procured to be inserted in the treaty, importing that the king of France might communicate to the confederates his particular pretensions or causes of hostility, which they would lay before the emperor, was the only sign thai they gave of their remembering how much they had been indebted to him for their success. Henry experienced the same treatment which every prince who lends his aid to the authors of a civil war may expect. As soon as the rage of faction began to subside, and any prospect of accommodation to open, his services were forgotten, and his associates made a merit with their sovereign of the ingratitude with which they * Rt-cueii rm, 107.",. t Steid. 6S7. Thuan.409. STprv Corp. Hist. Germ. Vol. II. — 54 426 THE KE1GN OF THE [Book XL the town was of such importance, that Francis used to call it one of the two pillows on yvhich a king of France might sleep with security, the fortifica- tions were in bad repair : Henry, trusting to what had happened at Metz, thought nothing more was necessary to render all the efforts of the enemy abortive, than to reinforce the garrison with a considerable number of the young nobility. But d'Esse, a veteran officer who commanded them, being killed, and the Imperialists pushing the siege with great vigour and perseverance, the place was taken by assault [June 21]. That it might not fall again into the hands of the French, Charles ordered not only the fortifications but the town itself to be rased, and the inhabitants to be dis- persed in the adjacent. cities. Elated with this success, the Imperialists immediately invested Hesden, which, though defended with great bravery, was likewise taken by assault, and such of the garrison as escaped the sword were made prisoners. The emperor intrusted the conduct of this siege to Emanuel Philibert of Savoy, prince of Piedmont, who, on that occasion, gave the first display of those great talents for military command, which soon entitled him to be ranked among the first generals of the age, and facilitated his re-establishment in his hereditary dominions, the greater part of which having been overrun by Francis in his expeditions into Italy, were still retained by Henry.* The loss of these towns, together with so many persons of distinction, either killed or taken by the enemy, was no inconsiderable calamity to France, and Henry felt it very sensibly; but he was still more mortified at the emperor's having recovered his wonted superiority in the field so soon after the blow at Metz, which the French had represented as fatal to his power. He was ashamed too, of his own remissness and excessive security at the opening of the campaign ; and in order to repair that error, he assembled a numerous army, and led it into the Low-Countries. Roused at the approach of such a formidable enemy, Charles left Brus- sels, where he had been shut up so closely during seven months, that it came to be believed in many parts of Europe that he was dead; and though he was so much debilitated by the gout that he could hardly bear the motion of a litter, he hastened to join his army. The eyes of all Europe were turned with expectation towards those mighty and exaspe- rated rivals, between whom a decisive battle was now thought unavoid- able. But Charles having prudently declined to hazard a general engage- ment, and the violence of the autumnal rains rendering it impossible for the French to undertake any siege, they retired, without having performed any thing suitable to the great preparations which they had made.j The Imperial arms were not attended with the same success in Italy. The narrowness of the emperor's finances seldom allowed him to act with vigour in two different places at the same time ; and having exerted him- self to the utmost in order to make a great effort in the Low-Countries, his operations on the other side of the Alps were proportionally feeble. The vicenoy of Naples, in conjunction with Cosmo di Medici, who was greatly alarmed at the introduction of French troops into Sienna, endeavoured to become master of that city. But, instead of reducing the Siennese, the Imperialists were obliged to retire abruptly, in order to defend their owm country, upon the appearance of the Turkish fleet, which threatened the coast of Naples ; and the French not only established themselves more firmly in Tuscany, but, by the assistance of the Turks, conquered a great part of the island of Corsica, subject at that time to the Genoese. J The affairs of the house of Austria declined no less in Hungary during the course of this year. As the troops which Ferdinand kept in Transyl- vania received their pay very irregularly, they lived almost at discretion upon the inhabitants ; and their insolence and. rapaciousness greatly dis- '• Throw. 41.1. Baripl Annates Brabant. 6R9. t Harn»i», fi72. Thuan. 414. 1 Thuan. 417, EMPEROR CHARLES V. 42.7 gusled all ranks of men, and alienated them from their new sovereign, who, instead of protecting, plundered his subjects. Their indignation at this, added to their desire of revenging Martinuzzi's death, wrought so much upon a turbulent nobility impatient of injury, and upon a fierce people prone to change, that they were ripe for a revolt. At that very juncture, their late queen Isabella, together with her son, appeared in Transylvania. Her ambitious mind could not bear the solitude and inactivity of a private life ; and repenting quickly of the cession which she had made of the crown in the year one thousand five hundred and fifty-one, she left the place of her retreat, hoping that the dissatisfaction of the Hungarians with the Austrian government would prompt them once more to recognise her son's right to the crown. Some noblemen of great eminence declared immediately in his favour. The basha of Belgrade, by Solyman's order, espoused his cause, in opposition to Ferdinand ; the Spanish and German soldiers, instead of advancing against the enemy, mutinied for want of pay, declaring that they would march back to Vienna ; so that Castaldo, their general, was obliged to abandon Transylvania to Isabella and the Turks, and to place himself at the head of the mutineers, that by his authority he might restrain them from plundering the Austrian territories through which they passed. Ferdinand's attention was turned so entirely towards the affairs of Ger- many, and his treasures so much exhausted by his late efforts in Hungary, that he made no attempt to recover that valuable province, although a favourable opportunity for that purpose presented itself, as Solyman was then engaged in a war with Persia, and involved besides in domestic calamities which engrossed and disturbed his mind. Solyman, though distinguished by many accomplishments, from the other Ottoman princes, had all the passions peculiar to that violent and haughty race. He was jealous of his authority, sudden as well as furious in his anger, and susceptible of all that rage of love, which reigns in the East, and often produces the wildest and most tragical effects. His favourite mistress was a Circassian slave of exquisite beauty, who bore him a son called Musta- pha, whom, both on account of his birthright and merit, he destined to be the heir of his crown. Roxalana, a Russian captive, soon supplanted the Circassian, and gained the sultan's heart. Having the address to retain the conquest which she had made, she kept possession of his love without any rival for many years, during which she brought him several sons and one daughter. All the happiness, however, which she derived from the unbounded sway that she had acquired over the mind of a monarch whom one half of the world revered or dreaded, was embittered by perpetual reflections on Mustapha's accession to the throne, and the certain death of her sons, who, she foresaw, would be immediately sacrificed, according to the barbarous jealousy of Turkish policy, to the safety of the new emperor. By dwelling continually on this melancholy idea, she came gradually to view Mustapha as the enemy of her children, and to hate him with more than a stepmother's ill-will. This prompted her to wish his destruction, in order to secure for one of her own sons the throne which was destined for him. Nor did she want either ambition to attempt such a high enter- prise, or the arts requisite for carrying it into execution. Having prevailed on the sultan to give her only daughter in marriage to Rustan the grand vizier, she disclosed her scheme to that crafty minister, who, perceiving that it was his own interest to co-operate with her, readily promised his assistance towards aggrandizing that branch of the royal line to which he was so nearly allied. As soon as Roxalana had concerted her measures with this able confi- dant, she began to affect a wonderful zeal for the Mahometan religion, to • Thuan. «o 428 THE REIGN OP THE [Book XL which Solyman was superstitiously attached, and proposed to found and endow a royal mosque, a work of great expense, but deemed by the Turks meritorious in the highest degree. The mufti whom she consulted, approved much of her pious intention ; but having been gained and instructed by Rustan, told her, that she being a slave could derive no benefit herself from that holy deed, tor all the merit of it would accrue to Solyman, the master whose property she was. Upon this she seemed to be overwhelmed with sorrow, and to sink into the deepest melancholy, as if she had been disgusted with life and all its enjoyments. Solyman, who was absent with the army, being informed of this dejection ot mind, and of the cause from which it proceeded, discovered all the solicitude of a lover to remove it, and by a writing under his hand declared her a free woman. Roxalana having gained this point, proceeded to build the mosque, and reassumed her usual gayety of spirit. But when Solyman, on his return to Constantinople, sent a eunuch, according to the custom of the seraglio, to bring her to partake of his bed, she seemingly with deep regret, but in the most peremptory manner, declined to follow the eunuch, declaring that what had been an honour to her while a slave, became a crime as she was now a free woman, and that she would not involve either the sultan or herself in the guilt that must be contracted by such an open viola- tion of the law of their prophet. Solyman, whose passion this difficulty, as well as the affected delicacy which gave rise to it, heightened and inflamed, had recourse immediately to the mufti for his direction. He replied, agreeably to the koian, the Roxalana's scruples were well founded ; but added, artfully, in words which Rustan had taught him to use, that it was in the sultan's power to remove these difficulties, by espousing her as his lawful wife. The amorous monarch closed eagerly with the proposal, and solemnly married her, according to the form of the Mahometan ritual ; though, by doing so, he disregarded a maxim of policy which the pride of the Ottoman blood had taught all the sultans since Bajazet I. to con- sider as inviolable. From his time, none of the Turkish monarchs had married, because, when he was vanquished and taken prisoner by Tam- erlane, his wife had been abused with barbarous insolence by the Tartars. That no similar calamity might again subject the Ottoman family to the same disgrace, the sultans admitted none to their beds but slaves, whose dishonour could not bring an}r such stain upon their house. But the more uncommon the step was, the more it convinced Roxalana of the unbounded influence which she had acquired over the sultan's heart ; and emboldened her to prosecute, with greater hope of success, the scheme that she had formed in order to destroy Mustapha. This young prince having been intrusted by his father, according to the prac- tice of the sultans in that age, with the government of several different provinces, was at that time invested with the administration in Diarbequir, the ancient Mesopotamia, which Solyman had wrested from the Persians, and added to his empire. In all these different commands, Mustapha had conducted himself with such cautious prudence as could give no offence to his father, though, at the same time, he governed with so much mode- ration as well as justice, and displayed such valour and generosity, as ren- dered him equally the favourite of the people and the darling of the soldiery. There was no room to lay any folly or vice to his charge, that could impair the high opinion which his lather entertained of him. Roxala- na's malevolence was more refined ; she turned his virtues against him, and made use of these as engines for his destruction. She often mentioned, in Solyman's presence, the splendid qualities of his son ; she celebrated his courage, his liberality, his popular arts, with malicious and exaggerated praise. As soon as she perceived that the sultan heard these encomiums, which were often repeated, with uneasiness ; that suspicion of his son EMPEROR CHARLES V. 429 beecm to mingle itself with his former esteem; and that by degrees he came to view him with jealousy and fear; she introduced, as by accident, some discourse concerning the rebellion of his father Sehm against Baja- zet his grandfather : she took notice of the bravery of the veteran troops under Mustapha's commandi and of the neighbourhood ot Diarbequir to the territories of the Persian sophi, Solyman's mortal enemy, by these arts, whatever remained of paternal tenderness was gradually extinguished, and such passions were kindled in the breast of the sultan, as gave all Roxalana's malignant suggestions the colour not only ot probability but of truth. His suspicions and fear of Mustapha settled into deep-rooted hatred. He appointed spies to observe and report all his words and actions ; he watched and stood on his guard against him as his most dan- gerous enemy. ■ ' , D . Having thus alienated the sultan's heart from Mustapha, Roxalana ven- tured upon another step. She entreated Solyman to allow her own sons the liberty of appearing at court, hoping that by gaining access to then- father, they might, by their good qualities and dutiful deportment, insinu- ate themselves into that place in his affections which Mustapha had formerly held ; and though what she demanded was contrary to the prac- tice of the Ottoman family in that age, the uxorious monarch granted her request. To all these female intrigues Rustan added an artifice still more subtle, which completed the sultan's delusion, and heightened his jealousy and fear. He wrote to the bashaws of the provinces adjacent to Diarbe- quir, instructing them to send him regular intelligence of Mustapha's proceedings in his government, and to each of them he gave a private hint, flowing in appearance from his zeal for their interest, that nothing would be more acceptable to the sultan than to receive tavourable accounts of a son whom he destined to sustain the glory of the Ottoman name. The bashaws, ignorant of his fraudulent intention, and eager to pay court to their sovereign at such an easy price, filled their letters with studied but fatal panegyrics of Mustapha, representing him as a prince worthy to succeed such an illustrious father, and- as endowed with talents which might enable him to emulate, perhaps to equal, his fame. These letters were industriously shown to Solyman, at the seasons when it was known that they would make the deepest impression. Every expression in recom- mendation of his son wounded him to the heart ; he suspected his principal officers of being ready to favour the most desperate attempts of a prince whom they were so fond of praising ; and fancying that he saw them already assaulting his throne with rebellious arms, he determined, while it was yet in his power, to anticipate the blow, and to secure his own safety by his son's death. For this purpose, though under pretence of renewing the war against Persia, he ordered Rustan to march towards Diarbequir at the head of a numerous army, and to rid him of a son whose life he deemed inconsist- ent with his own safety. But that crafty minister did not choose to be loaded with the odium of having executed this cruel order. As soon as he arrived in Syria he wrote to Solyman, that the danger was so imminent as called for his immediate presence ; that the camp was full of Musta- pha's emissaries ; that many of the soldiers were corrupted ; that the affections of all leaned towards him ; that he had discovered a negotia- tion which had been carried on with the sophi of Persia in order to many Mustapha with one of his daughters; that he already felt his own talents as well as authority to be inadequate to the exigencies of such an arduous conjuncture ; that the sultan alone had sagacity to discern what resolution should he taken in those circumstances, and power to cany that resolution into execution. This charge of courting the friendship of the sophi, Roxalana and Rnstan had reserved as the last and most envenomed of all their calum- 4^o T H £ R E I G N 0 F T H E [Book X f - rues. It operated with the violence which they expected from Solyman's inveterate abhorrence of the Persians, and threw him into the wildest transports of rage. He set out instantly for Syria, and hastened thither with all the precipitation and impatience of fear and revenge. As soon as he joined his army near Aleppo, and had concerted measures with Rustan, he sent a chiaus, or messenger of the court, to his. son, requiring him to repair immediately to his presence. Mustapha, though no stranger to his stepmother's machinations, or to Rustan's malice, or to his father's violent temper, yet relying on his own innocence, and hoping to discredit the accusations of his enemies by the promptitude of his obedience, follow- ed the messenger without delay to Aleppo. The moment he arrived in the camp, he was introduced into the sultan's tent. As he entered it, he observed nothing that could give him any alarm ; no additional crowd of attendants, no body of armed guards, but the same order and silence which always reign in the sultan's apartments. In a few minutes, how- ever, several mutes appeared, at the sight of whom Mustapha, knowing what was his doom, cried with a loud voice, "Lo, my death!" and attempted to fly. The mutes rushed forward to seize him ; he resisted and struggled, demanding with the utmost earnestness to see the sultan ; and despair, together with the hope of rinding protection from the soldiers, if he could escape out of the tent, animated him with such extraordinary strength, that for some time, he baffled all the efforts of the executioners. Solyman was within hearing of his son's cries, as well as of the noise which the struggle occasioned. Impatient of this delay of his revenge, and struck with terror at the thoughts of Mustapha's escaping, he drew aside the curtain which divided the tent, and thrusting in his head, darted a fierce look towards the mutes, and with wild and threatening gestures, seemed to condemn their sloth and timidity. At sight of his father's furious and unrelenting countenance, Mustapha's strength failed, and his courage forsook him ; the mules fastened the bow-string about his neck, and in a moment put an end to his life. The dead body was exposed before the sultan's tent. The soldiers gathered round it, and contemplating that mournful object with astonish- ment, and sorrow, and indignation, were ready, if a leader had not been wanting, to have broke out into the wildest excesses of rage. After giving vent to the first expressions of their grief, they retired each man to his tent, and shutting themselves up, bewailed in secret the cruel fate of their favourite ; nor was there one of them who tasted food or even water, during the remainder of that day. Next morning the same solitude and silence reigned in the camp ; and Solyman, being afraid that some dreadful storm would follow this sullen calm, in order to appease the enraged soldiers, deprived Rustan of the seals, ordered him to leave the camp, and raised Achmet, a gallant officer much beloved in the army, to the dignity of vizier. This change, however, was made in concert with Rustan him- self ; that crafty minister suggesting it as the only expedient which could save himself or his master. But within a few months, when the re-'-nt- ment of the soldiers began to subside, and the name of Mustapha to be forgotten, Achmet was strangled by the sultan's command, and Rustan re- instated in the office of vizier. Together with his former power, he re- assumed the plan for exterminating the race of Mustapha which he had concerted with Roxalana ; and as they were afraid that an only son whom Mustapha had left, might grow up to avenge his death, they redoubled their activity, and by employing the same arts against him which they had practised against his father, they inspired Solyman with the same fears, and prevailed on him to issue orders for putting to death that young inno- cent prince. These orders were executed with barbarous zeal, by an eurjuch, who was despatcjued to Bursa, the place where the prince resided : EMPEROR CHARLES V. 431 and no rival was left to dispute the Ottoman throne with the sons of Such tragical scenes, productive of so deep distress, seldom occur but in the history of the great monarchies of the Last, where the warmth of the climate seems to give every emotion of the heart its greatest force, and the absolute power of sovereigns accustoms and enables them to gratify all their passions without control. While this interesting transaction in the court of Solyman engaged his whole attention, Charles was pursuing, with the utmost ardour, a new scheme for aggrandizing his family. About this time, Edward the sixth of England, after a short reign, in which he displayed such virtues as filled his subjects with sanguine hopes of being- happy under his government, and made them bear with patience all that they suffered from the weakness, the dissensions, and the ambition of the ministers who assumed the administration during his minority, was seized with a lingering distemper which threatened his life. The emperor no sooner received an account of this, than his ambition, always attentive to seize every opportunity of acquiring an increase of power, or of territo- ries, to his son, suggested the thought of adding England to his other kingdoms by the marriage of Philip with the princess Mary, the heir of Edward's crown. Being apprehensive, however, that his son, who was then in Spain, might decline a match with a princess in her thirty -eighth year, and eleven years older than himself ;| Charles determined, notwith- standing his own age and infirmities, to make offer of himself as a husband to his cousin. But though Mary was so far advanced in years, and destitute of every charm either of person or of manners that could win affection or command esteem, Philip, without hesitation, gave his consent to the match proposed by his father, and was willing, according to the usual maxim of princes, to sacrifice his inclination to his ambition. In order to ensure the success of his scheme, the emperor, even before Edward's death, began to take such steps as might facilitate it. Upon Edward's demise, Mary mounted the throne of England ; the pretensions of the lady Jane Grey proving as unfortunate as they were ill-founded. J Charles sent immediately a pom- pous embassy to London to congratulate Mary on her accession to the throne, and to propose the alliance with his son. The queen, dazzled with the prospect of marrying the heir of the greatest monarch in Europe ; fond of uniting more closely with her mother's family, to which she had been always warmly attached ; and eager to secure the powerful aid which she knew would be necessary towards carrying on her favourite scheme of re-establishing the Romish religion in England, listened in the most favourable manner to the proposal. Among her subjects, it met with a very different reception. Philip, it was well known, contended for all the tenets of the church of Koine with a sanguinary zeal which exceeded the measure even of Spanish bigotry : this alarmed all the numerous par- tisans of the Reformation. The Castilian haughtiness and reserve were far from being acceptable to the English, who, having several times seen their throne occupied by persons who were born subjects, had become accustomed to an unceremonious and familiar intercourse with their sovereigns. They could not think, without the utmost uneasiness, of ad- mitting a foreign prince to that influence of their councils, which the husband of their queen would naturally possess. They dreaded, both from Philip's overbearing temper, and from the maxims of the Spanish monarchy which he had imbibed, that he would infuse ideas into the queen's mind, dangerous to the liberties of the nation, and would introduce * Augeril Gislenii Buabeqaii Logationis Turcicec Epistol.v iv. Franc. 1615. p'. 37. Thuan. lib. .rii. p. 432. Mem. rreil. TrM. v. ii. c. 13. p. 130. t Carte's Hist*, of England, ill. B87, 434 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XL foreign troops and money into the kingdom, to assist her in any attempt against them. Full of these apprehensions, the house of commons, though in that age extremely obsequious to the will of their monarchs, presented a warm address against the Spanish match ; many pamphlets were published, representing the dangerous consequences of the alliance with Spain, and describing Philip's bigotry and arrogance in the most odious colours. But Mary, inflexible in all her resolutions, paid no regard to the remonstrances of her commons, or to the sentiments of the people. The emperor, having secured, by various arts, the ministers whom she trusted most, they approved warmly of the match, and large sums were remitted by him in order to gain the rest of the council. Cardinal Pole, whom the pope, immediately upon Mary's accession, had despatched as his legate into England, in order to reconcile his native country to the see of Rome, was detained by the emperor's command at Dillinghen in Germany, lest by his presence he should thwart Philip's pretensions, and employ his interest in favour of his kinsman Courtnay earl of Devonshire, whom the English ardently wished their sovereign to choose for a husband.* As the negotiation did not admit of delay, it was carried forward with the greatest rapidity, the emperor agreeing, without hesitation, to every article in favour of England, which Mary's ministers either represented as necessary to soothe the people and reconcile them to the match, or that was suggested by their own fears and jealousy of a foreign master. The chief articles were [Jan. 12, 1554], that Philip, during his marriage with the queen, should bear the title of king of England, but the entire administra- tion of affairs, as well as the sole disposal of all revenues, offices, and benefices, should remain with the queen ; that the heirs of the marriage should, together with the crown of England, inherit the dutchy of Burgundy and the Low-Countries ; that if prince Charles, Philip's only son by a former marriage, should die without issue, his children by the queen, whether male or female, should succeed to the crown of Spain, and all the emperor's hereditary dominions ; that before the consummation of the marriage, Philip should swear solemnly, that he would retain no domestic who was not a subject of the queen, and would bring no foreigners into the kingdom that might give umbrage to the English ; that he would make no alteration in the constitution or laws of England ; that he would not carry the queen, or any of the children born of this marriage, out of the kingdom ; that if the queen should die before him without issue, he would immedi- ately leave the crown to the lawful heir, without claiming any right of administration whatever ; that in consequence of this marriage, England should not be engaged in any war subsisting between France and Spain ; and that the alliance between France and England should remain in full force, t But this treaty, though both the emperor and Mary's ministers employed (heir utmost address in framing it so as to please the English, was far from quieting their fears and jealousies. They saw that words and promises were a feeble security against the encroachments of an ambitious prince, who, as soon as he got possession of the power and advantages which the queen's husband must necessarily enjoy, could easily evade any of the articles which either limited his authority or obstructed his schemes. They were convinced that the more favourable the conditions of the present treaty were to England, the more Philip would be tempted hereafter to violate them. They dreaded that England, like Naples, Milan, and the other countries annexed to Spain, would soon feel the dominion of that crown to be intolerably oppressive, and be constrained, as these had been, f° waste its wealth and vigour in wars wherein it had no interest, and from * Qarte, iii. 288. t Eymer's Feed, vol sv. 377 393. Mem. de Ribier, ii, 493 EMPEROR CHARLES V. «3S ■which it couid derive no advantage. These sentiments prevailed so gene- rally that every part of the kingdom was filled with discontent at the match, and with indignation against the advisers of it. Sir Thomas Wyat, a gentleman of some note, and of good intentions towards the public, took advantage of this, and roused the inhabitants of Kent to arms, in order to save their country from a foreign yoke. Great numbers resorted in a short. time to his standard ; he marched to London with such rapidity, and the queen was so utterly unprovided for defence, that the aspect ot affairs was extremely threatening; and if any nobleman ot distinction had joined the malecontents, or had Wyat possessed talents equal, in any degree, to the boldness of his enterprise, the insurrection must have proved fatal to Mary s power. But all Wyat's measures were concerted with so little prudence, and executed with such irresolution, that many of his followers torsook him ; the rest were dispersed by a handful ct soldiers ; and he himseli was taken prisoner, without having made any effort worthy of the cause that he had undertaken, or suitable to the ardour with which he engaged in it. He suffered the punishment due to his rashness and rebellion. 1 he queen's authority was confirmed and increased by her success in defeating this inconsiderate attempt to abridge it. The lady Jane Grey, whose title the ambition of her relations had set up in opposition to that ot the queen, was. notwithstanding her youth and innocence, brought to the scaffold. The lady Elizabeth, the queen's sister, was observed with the most jealous attention. The treaty of marriage was ratified by the parliament. Philip landed in England with a magnificent retinue, celebrated his nup tials with great solemnity ; and though he could not lay aside his natural severity and pride, or assume gracious and popular manners, he endea- voured to conciliate the favour of the English nobility by his extraordinary liberality. Lest that should fail of acquiring him such influence in the government of the kingdom as he aimed at obtaining, the emperor kept a body of twelve thousand men on the coast of Flanders in readiness to em- bark for England, and to support his son* in all his enterprises. Emboldened by all these favourable circumstances, Mary pursued the scheme of extirpating the protestant religion out of her dominions, with the most precipitate zeal. The laws of Edward the Sixth, in iavour of the Reformation, were repealed ; the protestant clergy ejected ; all the forms and rights of the popish worship were re-established ; the nation was solemnly absolved from the guilt which it had contracted during the period of its apostacy, and was publicly reconciled to the church of Rome by cardinal Pole, who immediately after the queen's marriage, was permitted to continue his journey to England, and to exercise his legatine functions with the most ample power. "Not satisfied with having overturned the pro- testant church, and re-establishing the ancient system on its ruins, Mary insisted that all her subjects should conform to the same mode of worship which she preferred ; should profess their faith in the same creed which she had approved ; and abjure every practice or opinion that was deemed repugnant to either of them. Powers, altogether unknown in the English constitution, were vested in certain persons appointed to take cognizance of heresy, and they proceeded to exercise them with more than inquisito- rial severity. The prospect of danger, however, did not intimidate the principal teachers of the protestant doctrines, who believed that they were contending for truths of the utmost consequence to the happiness ot man- kind. They boldly avowed their sentiments, and were condemned to that cruel death which the church of Rome reserves for its enemies. This shocking punishment was inflicted with that barbarity which the rancour of false zeal alone can inspire. The English, who are inferior in humanity to no people in Europe, and remarkable for the mildness ot their public executions, beheld with astonishment and horror, persons who had filled Hie most respectable stations in tb ijG THE REIGN OF THE [Book XJ. Jested. As soon as his troops entered their own country, Henry threw garrisons into the frontier towns, and dismissed the rest of the army. Tin's encouraged the Imperialists to push forward with a considerahle body of troops into Picardy, and by laying waste the country with fire and sword, they endeavoured to revenge themselves for the ravages which the French had committed in Hainault and Artois.* But, as they were not able to reduce any place of importance, they gained nothing more than the enemy had done by this cruel and inglorious method of carrying on the war. The arms of France were still more unsuccessful in Italy. The footing which the French had acquired in Sienna occasioned much uneasiness to Cosmo di Medici, the most sagacious and enterprising of all the Italian princes. He dreaded the neighbourhood of a powerful people, to whom all who favoured the ancient republican government in Florence would have recourse, as to their natural protectors, against that absolute authority which the emperor had enabled him to usurp ; he knew how odious he was to the French, on account of his attachment to the Imperial party, and he foresaw that, if they were permitted to gather strength in Sienna, Tuscany would soon feel the effects of their resentment. For tliese reasons, he wished with the utmost solicitude for the expulsion of the French out of the Siennese, before they had time to establish themselves thoroughly in the country, or to receive such reinforcements from France as would render it dangerous to attack them. As this, however, was properly the emperor's business, who was called by his interest as well as honour to dislodge those formidable intruders into the heart of his dominions, Cosmo laboured to throw the whole burden of the enterprise on him ; and on that account had given no assistance during the former campaign but by advancing some small sums of money towards the pay- ment oi the Imperial troops. But as the defence of the Netherlands engrossed all the emperor's attention, and his remittances into England had drained his treasury, it was obvious that his operations in Italy would be extremely feeble ; and Cosmo plainly perceived, that if he himself did not take part openly in the war, and act with vigour2 the French would scarcely meet with any annoyance. As his situation rendered this resolution necessary and una- voidable, his next care was to execute it in such a manner, that he might derive from it some other advantage, beside that of driving the French out of his neighbourhood. With this view, he despatched an envoy to Charles, offering to declare war against France, and to reduce Sienna at his own charges, on condition that he should be repaid whatever he should expend in the enterprise, and be permitted to retain all his conquests until his demands were fully satisfied. Charles, to whom, at this juncture, the war against Sienna was an intolerable burden, and who had neither expe- dient nor resource that could enable him to carry it on with proper vigour, closed gladly with this overture ; and Cosmo, well acquainted with the low state of the Imperial finances, flattered himself that the emperor, find- ing it impossible to reimburse him, would suffer him to keep quiet pos- session ot whatever places he should conquer. t Full of these hopes, he made great preparations for war, and as the French king had turned the strength of his arms against the Netherlands, he did not despair of assembling such a body of men as would prove more than a sufficient match for any force which Henry could bring into the field in Italy. He endeavoured, by giving one of his daughter^ to the pope's nephew, to obtain assistance from the holy see, or at least to secure his remaining neutral. He attempted to detach the duke o Orsini, whose family had been long attached to the French party, from his ancient confederates, by bestowing on him another of his daughters ; ' Thuan. 460. tec. Harsi Ann. BraK < ~' ! Idriani fctoria dc rooi Tempi, vol. 1. 662. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 437 and what was of greater consequence than either of these, he engaged John James Medecino, marquis of Marignano, to take the jcommand of his army.* This officer, from a very low condition in life, had raised himself, through all the ranks of service, to high command, and had dis- played talents, and acquired reputation in war, which entitled him to be placed on a level with the greatest generals in that martial age. Having attained a station of eminence so disproportionate to his birth, he laboured with a fond solicitude to conceal his original obscurity, by giving out that he was descended of the family of Medici, to which honour the casual resemblance of his name was his only pretension. Cosmo, happy that ho could gratify him at such an easy rate, flattered his vanity in this point, acknowledged him as a relation, and permitted him to assume the arms of his family : Medecino, eager to serve the head of that family of which he now considered himself as a branch, applied with wonderful zeal and assiduity to raise troops ; and as, during his long service, he had acquired great credit with the leaders of those mercenary bands which formed the strength of Italian armies, he engaged the most eminent of them to follow Cosmo's standard. To oppose this able general, and the formidable army which he had assembled, the king of France made choice of Peter Strozzi, a Florentine nobleman, who had resided long in France as an exile, and who had risen by his merit to high reputation as well as command in the army. He was the son of Philip Strozzi, who, in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-seven, had concurred with such ardour in the attempt to expel the family of Medici out of Florence, in order to re-establish the ancient republican form of government ; and who had perished in the undertaking. The son inherited the implacable aversion to the Me lici, as well as the same enthusiastic zeal for the liberty of Florence, which had animated his father, whose death he was impatient to revenge. Henry flattered himself that his army would make rapid progress under a general whose zeal to promote his interest was roused and seconded by such powerful passions ; especially as he had allotted him, for the scene of action, his native coun- try, in which he had many powerful partisans, ready to facilitate all his operations. But how specious soever the motives might appear which induced Henry to make this choice, it proved fatal to the interests of France in Italy. Cosmo, as soon as he heard that the mortal enemy of his family was appointed to take the command in Tuscany, concluded that the king of France aimed at something more than the protection of the Siennese, and saw the necessity of making extraordinary efforts, not merely to reduce Sienna, but to save himself from destruction. t At the same time, the cardinal of Ferrara, who had the entire direction of the French affairs in Italy, considered Strozzi as a formidable rival in power, and in order to prevent his acquiring any increase of authority from success, he was extremely remiss in supplying him either with money to pay his troops, or with provisions to support them. Strozzi himself, blinded by his resent- ment against the Medici, pushed on his operations with the impetuosity of revenge, rather than with the caution and prudence becoming a great general. At first, however, he attacked several towns in the territory of Florence with such vigour as obliged Medecino, in order to check his progress, to withdraw the greater part of his army from Sienna, which he had invested before Strozzi's arrival in Italy. As Cosmo sustained the whole burden of military operations, the expense of which must soon have exhausted his revenues; as neither the viceroy of Naples nor governor of Milan were in condition to afford him any effectual aid; as the troops which Medecino * Adrinni Istoria. vol. i. p. 663. t Pecci Mcmoirc di Sienna, vol. iv. p. 10J. &e. yjit THE TxEIG N 0 F T 1 1 E [Book \1 . had left in the camp before Sienna could attempt nothing against it during his absence ; it was Strozzi's business to have protracted the war, and to have transferred the seat of it into the territories of Florence. But the hope of ruining his enemy by one decisive blow, precipitated him into a general engagement [Aug. 3] not far from Marciano. The armies were nearly equal in number ; but a body of Italian cavalry, in which Strozzi placed great confidence, having fled without making any resistance, either through the treachery or cowardice of the officers who commanded it, his infantry remained exposed to the attacks of all Medecino's troops. Encou- raged, however, by Strozzi's presence and example, who, after receiving a dangerous wound in endeavouring to rally the cavalry, placed himself at the head of the infantry, and manifested an admirable presence of mind, as well as extraordinary valour, they stood their ground with great firm- ness, and repulsed such of the enemy as ventured to approach them. But those gallant troops being surrounded at last on every side, and torn in pieces by a battery of cannon which Medecino brought to bear upon them, the Florentine cavalry broke in on their flanks, and a general route ensued. Strozzi, faint with the loss of blood, and deeply affected with the fatal consequences of his own rashness, found the utmost difficulty in making his escape with a handful of men.* Medecino returned immediately to the siege of Sienna with his victorious forces, and as Strozzi could not, after the greatest efforts of activity, collect as many men as to form the appearance ot a regular army, he had leisure to carry on his approaches against the town without molestation. But the Siennese, instead of sinking into despair upon this cruel disappointment of •heir only hope of obtaining relief, prepared to defend themselves to the utmost extremity, with that undaunted fortitude which the love of liberty alone can inspire. This generous resolution was warmly seconded by Monluc, who commanded the French garrison in the town. The active and enterprising courage which he had displayed on many occasions, had procured him this command ; and as he had ambition which aspired at the highest military dignities, without any pretensions to attain them but what he could derive from merit,"he determined to distinguish his defence of Sienna by extraordinary efforts of valour and perseverance. For this pur- pose, he repaired and strengthened the fortifications with unwearied indus- try ; he trained the citizens to the use of arms, and accustomed them to go through the fatigues and dangers of service in common with the soldiers ; and as the enemy were extremely strict in guarding all the avenues to the city, he husbanded the provisions in the magazines with the most parsimo- nious economy, and prevailed on the soldiers, as well as the citizens, to restrict themselves to a very moderate daily allowance for their subsistence. Medecino, though his army was not numerous enough to storm the town by open force, ventured twice to assault it by surprise ; but he was received each time with so much spirit, and repulsed with such loss, as discouraged him from repeating the attempt, and left him no hopes of reducing the town but by famine. With this view he fortified his own camp with great care, occupied all the posts of strength round the place, and having entirely cut off the besieged from any communication with the adjacent country, he waited patiently until necessity should compel them to open their gates. But their enthu- siastic zeal for liberty made the citizens despise the distresses occasioned by the scarcity of provisions, and supported them long under all the miseries of famine ; Monluc, by his example and exhortations, taught his soldiers to vie with him in patience and abstinence ; and it was not until they had withstood a siege of ten months, until they had eaten up all the horses, dogs, and other animals in the place, and were reduced almost to their last * Pccci Memoire della Sienna, vol. iv. p. 137 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 439 morsel of bread, that they proposed a capitulation [1555]. Even then they demanded honourable terms ; and as Cosmo, though no stranger to the extremity of their condition, was afraid that despair might prompt them to venture upon some wild enterprise, he immediately granted them condi- tions more favourable than they could have expected. April 22.] The capitulation was made in the emperor's name, who engaged to take the republic of Sienna under the protection of the empire ; he promised to maintain the ancient liberties of the city, to allow the magistrates the full exercise of their former authority, to secure the citizens in the undisturbed possession of their privileges and property; he granted an ample and unlimited pardon to all who had borne arms against him ; he reserved to himself the right of placing a garrison in the town, but engaged not to rebuild the citadel without the consent of the citizens. Monluc and his French garrison were allowed to march out with all the honours of war. Medecino observed the articles of capitulation, as far as depended on him, with great exactness. No violence or insult whatever was offered to the inhabitants, and the French garrison was treated with all the respect due to their spirit and bravery. But many of the citizens suspecting, from the extraordinary facility with which they had obtained such favourable conditions, that the emperor, as well as Cosmo, would take the first oppor- tunity of violating them, and disdaining to possess a precarious liberty, which depended on the will of another, abandoned the place of their nativity, and accompanied the French to Monte-Alcino, Porto Ercole, and other small towns in the territory of the republic. They established in Monte-Alcino, the same model of government to which they had been accustomed at Sienna, and appointing magistrates with the same titles and jurisdiction, solaced themselves with this image of their ancient liberty. The fears of the Siennese concerning the late of their country were not imaginary, or their suspicion of the emperor and Cosmo ill founded ; for no sooner ha'd the Imperial troops taken possession of the town, than Cosmo, without regarding the articles of capitulation, not only displaced the magistrates who were in office, and nominated new ones devoted to his own interest, but commanded all the citizens to deliver up their arms to persons whom he appointed to receive them. They submitted to the former from necessity, though with all the reluctance and regret which men accustomed to liberty feel in obeying the first commands of a master. They did not yield the same tame obedience to the latter ; and many persons of distinc- tion, rather than degrade themselves from the rank of freemen to the condi- tion of slaves by surrendering their arms, fled to their countrymen at Monte- Alcino, and chose to endure all the hardships, and encounter all the dangers which they had reason to expect in that new station, where they had fixed the seat of their republic. Cosmo, not reckoning himself secure while such numbers of implacable and desperate enemies were settled in his neighbourhood, and retained any degree of power, solicited Medecino to attack them in their different places of retreat, before they had time to recruit their strength and spirits, after the many calamities which they had suffered. He prevailed on him, though his army was much weakened by hard duty during the siege of Sienna, to invest Porto Ercole ; and the fortifications being both slight and incom- plete, the besieged were soon compelled to open their gates [June 13]. An unexpected order, which Medecino received from the emperor to detach the greater part of his troops into Piedmont, prevented farther operations, and permitted the Siennese exiles to reside for some time undisturbed in Monte-Alcino. But their unhappy countrymen who remained at Sienna were not yet at the end of their sufferings; for the emperor, instead of adhering to the articles of capitulation, granted his son Philip the investi- ture of that city and all its dependencies ; and Francis de I oledo, in the name of their new master, proceeded to set tie the civil and military govern- I4i I'lir. R EIGN OF THE [Book XI. raent, treated them like a conquered people, and subjected them to the Spanish yoke, without paying any regard whatever to their privileges or ancient lorm of government.* The Imperial army in Piedmont had been so feeble for some time, and its commander so inactive, that the emperor, in order to give vigour to his operations in that quarter, found it necessary not only to recall Medecino's troops from Tuscany, while in the career of conquest, but to employ in Piedmont a general of such reputation and abilities, as might counterbalance anno 1550 ad 1551 ap. Preherum, vol. Hi. p. 564. Perri Memoire delta Sienna, iv. 64. &c. f Thuan. lib, xv. SriD. tiiiiciic ■■in m Hist. deSavoye, torn. i. 670 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 441 secured him such high confidence with Vielleville, who was appointed governor of Metz when Guise left the town, that he was permitted to con- verse or correspond with whatever persons he thought fit, and nothing that he did created any suspicion. This monk, from the levity natural to bold and projecting adventurers ; or from resentment against the French, who had not bestowed on him such rewards as he thought due to his own merit; or tempted by the unlimited confidence which was placed in him, to ima- gine that he might carry on and accomplish any scheme with perfect security, formed a design of betraying Metz to the Imperialists. He communicated his intention to the queen-dowager of Hungary, who governed the Low-Countries in the name of her brother. She approving without any scruple, an act of treachery, from which the emperor might derive such signal advantage,, assisted the father guardian in concerting the most proper plan for ensuring its success. They agreed, that the father guardian should endeavour to gain his monks to concur in promoting the design, that he should introduce into the convent a certain number of chosen soldiers, disguised in the habit of friars ; that when every thing was ripe for execution, the governor of Thionville should march towards Meiz in the night with a considerable body of troops, and attempt to scale the ramparts ; that while the garrison was employed in resisting the assailants, the monks' should set fire to the town in different places ; that the soldiers who lay concealed should sally out of the convent, and attack those who defended the ramparts in the rear. Amidst the universal terror and confusion which events so unexpected would occasion, it was not doubted but that the Imperialists might become masters of the town. As a recompense for this service, the father guardian stipulated that he should be appointed bishop of Metz, and ample rewards were promised to such of his monks as should be most active in co-operating with him. The father guardian accomplished what he had undertaken to perform with great secrecy and despatch. By his authority and arguments, as well as by the prospect of wealth or honours which he set before his monks, he prevailed on all of them to enter into the conspiracy. He introduced into the convent, without being suspected, as many soldiers as were thought sufficient. The governor of Thionville, apprized in due time of the design, had assembled a proper number of troops for executing it ; and the moment approached, which probably would have wrested from Henry the most important of all his conquests. But, happily for France, on the very day that was fixed for striking the blow, Vielleville, an able and vigilant officer, received information from a spy whom he entertained at Thionville, that certain Franciscan friars re- sorted frequently thither and were admitted to many private conferences with the governor, who was carrying on preparations for some military enterprise with great despatch, but with a most mysterious secrecy. This was sufficient to awaken Vielleville's suspicions. Without communicating these to any person, he instantly visited the convent of Franciscans ; de- tected the soldiers who were concealed there ; and forced them to discover as much as they knew concerning the nature of the enterprise. The father guardian, who had gone to Thionville that he might put the last hand to his machinations, was seized at the gate as he returned ; and he, in order to save himself from the rack, revealed all the circumstances of the con- spiracy. Vielleville, not satisfied with having seized the traitors, and having frustrated their schemes, was solicitous to take advantage of the discoveries which he had made, so as to be revenged on the Imperialists. For this purpose he marched out with the best troops in his garrison, and placing these in ambush near the road, by which the father guardian had informed him that the governor of Thionville would approach Metz, he fell upon the Imperialists with great furv. as they advanced in perfect security, Vor. TI._Sfi 442 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XL without suspecting any danger to be near. Confounded at this sudden attack, by an enemy whom they expected to surprise, they made little resistance ; and a great part of the troops employed in this service, among whom were many persons of distinction, was killed or taken prisoners. Before next morning, Vielleville returned to Metz in triumph. No resolution was taken for some time concerning the fate of the father guardian and his monks, the framers and conductors of this dangerous conspiracy. Regard for the honour of a body so numerous and respectable as the Franciscans, and unwillingness to afford a subject of triumph to the enemies of the Romish church by their disgrace, seem to have occasioned this delay. But at length, the necessity of inflicting exemplary punish- ment upon them, in order to deter others from venturing to commit the same crime, became so evident, that orders were issued to proceed to their trial. The guilt was made apparent by the clearest evidence ; and sentence of death was passed upon the father guardian, together with twenty monks. On the evening previous to the day fixed for their execution, the jailer took them out ot the dungeons in which they had hitherto been confined separately, and shut them all up in one great room, that they might confess their sins to one another, and join together in preparing for a future state. But as soon as they were left alone, instead of employing themselves in the religious exercises suitable to their condition, they began to reproach the father guardian, and four of the senior monks who had been most active in seducing them, for their inordinate ambition, which had brought such misery on them, and such disgrace upon their order. From reproaches they proceeded to curses and execrations, and at last, in a frenzy of rage and despair, they fell upon them with such violence, that they murdered the father guardian on the spot, and so disabled the other four, that it became necessary to carry them next morning in a cart, to- gether with the dead body of the father guardian, to the place of execution. Six of the youngest were pardoned, the rest suffered the punishment which their crime merited.* Though both parties, exhausted by the length of the war, carried it on in this languishing manner, neither of them showed any disposition to listen to overtures of peace. Cardinal Pole indeed laboured with all the zeal becoming his piety and humanity, to re-establish concord among the princes of Christendom. He had not only persuaded his mistress, the queen of England, to enter warmly into his sentiments, and to offer her mediation to the contending powers, but had prevailed both on the em- peror and the king of France to send their plenipotentiaries to a village between Gravelines and Ardres. He himself, together with Gardiner bishop of Winchester, repaired thither in order to preside as mediators in the conferences which were to be held for adjusting all the points in dif- ference. But though each of the monarchs committed this negotiation to some of their ministers, in whom they placed the greatest confidence, it was soon evident that they came together with no sincere desire of accom- modation. [May 21 .] Each proposed articles so extravagant that they could have no hopes of their being accepted. Pole, after exerting in vain all his zeal and address, in order to persuade them to relinquish such extravagant demands, and to consent to the substitution of more equal conditions, became sensible of the folly of wasting time, in attempting to re-establish concord between those whom their obstinacy rendered irreconcilable, broke off the conference, and returned into England.! During these transactions in other parts of Europe, Germany enjoyed such profound tranquillity, as afforded the diet full leisure to deliberate, *Thuan. lib. xv.p. 522 Belcar. Com. Rer. Gal.866. Memoirs du Marech. Vielleville, par M. Charloix, torn. iii. p. 249, &c. p. 347. Par. 1757. *Thuan. lit*, xv. p. 523. Mem d» RiMei rora. ii. p. 613. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 443 and to establish proper regulations concerning a point of the greatest con- sequence to the internal peace of the empire. By the treaty of Passau in one thousand five hundred and fifty-two, it had been referred to the next diet of the empire to confirm and perfect the plan of religious pacification, which was there agreed upon. The terror and confusion with which the violent commotions excited by Albert of Brandenburg had filled Germany, as well as the constant attention which Ferdinand was obliged to give to the affairs of Hungary, had hitherto prevented the holding a diet, though it had been summoned, soon after the conclusion of the treaty, to meet at Augsburg. But as a diet was now necessary on many accounts, Ferdinand, about the beginning of this year, had repaired to Augsburg. Though few of the princes were present, either in person or by their deputies, he opened the assembly by a speech, in which he proposed a termination of the dissen- sions to which the new tenets and controversies with regard to religion had given rise, not only as the first and great business of the diet, but as the point which both the emperor and he had most at heart. He repre- sented the innumerable obstacles which the emperor had to surmount before he could procure the convocation of a general council, as well as the fatal accidents which had for some time retarded, and had at last sus- pended the consultations of that assembly. He observed, that experience had already taught them how vain it was to expect any remedy for evils which demanded immediate redress from a general council, the assembly of which would either be prevented, or its deliberations be interrupted by the dissensions and hostilities of the princes of Christendom : that a national council in Germany, which, as some imagined, might be called with greater ease, and deliberate with more perfect security, was an assembly of an unprecedented nature, the jurisdiction of which was un- certain in its extent, and the form of its proceedings undefined : that in his opinion there remained but one method for composing their unhappy differences, which though it had been often tried without success, might yet prove effectual if it were attempted with a better and more pacific spirit than had appeared on former occasions, and that was to choose a few men of learning, abilities, and moderation, who, by discussing the disputed articles, in an amicable conference, might explain them in such a manner as to bring the contending parties either to unite in sentiment, or to differ with charity. This speech being printed in common form, and dispersed over the empire, revived the fears and jealousies of the protestants ; Ferdinand, they observed with much surprise, had not once mentioned, in his address to the diet, the treaty of Passau, the stipulations of which they considered as the great security of their religious liberty. The suspicions to which this gave rise were confirmed by the accounts which they daily received of the extreme severity with which Ferdinand treated their protestant brethren in his hereditary dominions, and, as it was natural to consider his actions as the surest indication of his intentions, this diminished their con- fidence in those pompous professions of moderation or of zeal for the re-establishment of concord, to which his practice seemed to be so re- pugnant. The arrival of the cardinal Morone, whom the pope had appointed to attend the diet as his nuncio, completed their conviction, and left them no room to doubt that some dangerous machination was forming against the peace or safety of the protestant church. Julius, elated with the unex- pected return of the English nation from apostacy, began to flatter himself, that the spirit of mutiny and revolt having now spent its force, the happy period was come when the church might resume its ancient authority, and be obeyed by the people with the same tame submission as formerly. Full of these hopes, he had senl Morone to Augsburg, with instruction5: to 444 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XI. employ his eloquence to excite the Germans to imitate the laudable example of the English, and his political address in order to prevent any decree of the diet to the detriment of the catholic taith. As Morone inherited from his father, the chancellor of Milan, uncommon talents for negotiation and intrigue, he could hardly have tailed from embarrassing the measures of the protestants in the diet, or of defeating whatever they aimed at obtaining in it for their farther security. But an unforeseen event delivered them from all the danger which they had reason to apprehend from Morone's presence. Julius, by abandoning himsel! to pleasures and amusements, no less unbecoming his age than his character, having contracted such habits of dissipation, that any serious occupation, especially if attended with difficulty, became an intolerable burden to him, had long resisted the solicitations of his nephew to hold a consistory, because he expected there a violent opposition to his shemes in favour of that young man. But when all the pretexts which he could invent for eluding this request were exhausted, and at the same time his indolent aversion to business continued to grow upon him, he feigned indisposition rather than yield to his nephew s importunity ; and that he might give the deceit a greater colour of probability, he not only confined himselt to his apartment, but changed his usual diet and manner of life. By persisting too long in acting this ridiculous part, he contracted a real disease, of which he died in a iew days [March 23], leaving his infamous minion the cardinal de Monte to bear his name, and to disgrace the dignity which he had conferred upon him.* As soon as Morone heard of his death, he set out abruptly from Augsburg, where he had resided only a few days, that he might be present at the election of a new pontiff. One cause of their suspicions and fears being thus removed, the protes- tants soon became sensible that their conjectures concerning Ferdinand's intentions, however specious, were ill-founded, and that he had no thoughts of violating the articles favourable to them in the treaty of Passau. Charles, from the time that Maurice had defeated all his schemes in the empire, and overturned the great system of religious and civil despotism, which he had almost established there, gave little attention to the internal government of Germany, and permitted his brolher to pursue whatever measures he judged most salutary and expedient. Ferdinand, less ambi- tious and enterprising than the emperor, instead of resuming a plan which he with power and resources so far superior had failed of accomplishing, endeavoured to attach the princes of the empire to his family by an administration uniformly moderate and equitable. To this he gave, at present, particular attention, because his situation at this juncture rendered it necessary to court their favour and support with more than usual assiduity: Charles had again resumed his favourite project of acquiring the Impe- rial crown for his son Philip, the prosecution of which, the reception it had met with when first proposed had obliged him to suspend, but had not induced him to relinquish. This led him warmly to renew his request ^o his brother that he would accept of some compensation for his prior light of succession, and sacrifice that to the grandeur of the house of Austria. Ferdinand, who was as little disposed as formerly to give such an extraordinary proof of self-denial, being sensible that, in order to defeat this scheme, not only the most inflexible firmness on his part, but a vigorous declaration from the princes of the empire in behalf of his title, were requisite, was willing to purchase their favour by gratifying them in every point that they deemed interesting or essential. At the same time he stood in need of immediate and extraordinary aid from the Germanic body, as the Turks, after having wrested from him * Onuplir. Panvjnius de Viiis Pnjitificum, p. 320. Thuan. lih. xv. 517 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 446 great part of his Hungarian territories, were ready to attack the provinces still subject to his authority with a formidable army, against which he could bring no equal force into the field. For this aid from Germany he could not hope, it the internal peace of the empire were not established on a foundation solid in itself, and which should appear, even to the pro- testants, so secure and so permanent, as might not only allow them to engage in a distant war with safety, but might encourage them to act in it with vigour. A step taken by the protestants themselves, a short time after the open- ing of the diet, rendered him still more cautious of giving them any new cause of offence. As soon as the publication ot Ferdinand's speech awakened the fears and suspicions which have been mentioned, the electors of Saxony and Brandenburg, together with the landgrave ol Hesse, met at Naumburgh, and confirming the ancient treaty of confraternity which had long united their families, (hey added to it a new article, by which the contracting parlies bound themselves to adhere to the confession of Augsburg, and to maintain the doctrine which it contained in their respective dominions.* Ferdinand, influenced by all these considerations, employed his utmost address in conducting the deliberations of the diet, so as not to excite the jealousy of a party on whose friendship he depended, and whose enmity, as they had not only taken the alarm, but had begun to prepare for their defence, he had so much reason to dread. The members of the diet readily agreed to Ferdinand's proposal of taking the state of religion into consideration, previous to any other business. But as soon as they entered upon it, both parties discovered all the zeal and animosity which a subject so interesting naturally engenders, and which the rancour of controversy, together with the violence of civil war, had inflamed to the highest pitch. The protestants contended, that the security which they claimed in con- sequence of the treaty of Passau, should extend, without limitation, to all who had hitherto embraced the doctrine of Luther, or who should here- after embrace it. The Catholics, having first of all asserted the pope's right as the supreme and final judge with respect to all articles ol faith, declared, that though, on account of the present situation of the empire, for the sake of peace, they were willing to confirm the toleration granted by the treaty of Passau, to such as had already adopted the new opinions ; they must insist that this indulgence should not be extended either to those cities which had conformed to the Interim, or to such ecclesiastics as should for the future apostatize from the church of Rome. R was no easy matter to reconcile such opposite pretensions, which were supported, on each side, by the most elaborate arguments, and the greatest acrimony of expression, that the abilities or zeal of theologians long exercised in disputation could suggest. Ferdinand, however, by his address and per- severance ; by softening some things on each side, by putting a favourable meaning upon others; by representing incessantly the necessity as well as the advantages of concord ; and by threatening, on some occasions, when all other considerations were disregarded, to dissolve the diet, brought them at length to a conclusion in which they all agreed. Conformably to this, a recess was framed, approved of and published with the usual formalities [Sept. 25]. The following are the chief articles which it contained : That such princes and cities as have declared theiv approbation of the confession of Augsburg, shall be permitted to profess the doctrine and exercise the worship which it authorizes, without inter- ruption or molestation from the emperor, the king of the Romans, or any power or person whatsoever ; That the protestants, on their part, shall give no disquiet to the princes and states who adhere to the tenets and rites * Cbvtnei Saxonia. 480 446 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XL of the church of Rome ; That, for the future, no attempt shall he made towards terminating religious differences, but by the gentle and pacific methods of persuasion and conference ; That the popish ecclesiastics shall claim no spiritual jurisdiction in such states as receive the confession of Augsburg ; That such as had seized the benefices or revenues of the church, previous to the treaty of Passau, shall retain possession of them, and be liable to no prosecution in the Imperial chamber on that account ; That the supreme civil power in every state shall have right to establish what form of doctrine and worship it shall deem proper, and if any of its subjects refuse to conform to these, shall permit them to remove with all their effects, whithersoever they shall please ; that if any prelate or eccle- siastic shall hereafter abandon the Romish religion, he shall instantly relin- quish his diocess or benefice, and it shall be lawful for those in whom the light of nomination is vested, to proceed immediately to an election, as if the office were vacant by death or translation, and to appoint a successor of undoubted attachment to the ancient system.* Such are the capital articles in this famous recess, which is the basis of religious peace in Germany, and the bond of union among its various states, the sentiments of which are so extremely different with respect to points the most interesting as well as important. In our age and nation, to which the idea of toleration is familiar, and its beneficial effects well known, it may seem strange, that a method of terminating their dissensions, so suitable to the mild and charitable spirit of the Christian religion, did not sooner occur to the contending parties. But this expedient, however salutary, was so repugnant to the sentiments and practice of Christians during many ages, that it did not lie obvious to discovery. Among the ancient heathens, all whose deities were local and tutelary, diversity of sentiment concerning the object or rites of religious worship seems to have been no source of animosity, because the acknowledging veneration to be due to any one God, did not imply denial of the existence or the power of any other God ; nor were the modes and rites of worship established in one country incompatible with those which other nations approved of and observed. Thus the errors in their system of theology were of such a nature as to be productive of concord ; and notwithstanding the amazing number of their deities, as well as the infinite variety of their ceremonies, a sociable and tolerating spirit subsisted almost universally in the pagan world. But when the Christian revelation declared one Supreme Being to be the sole object of religious veneration, and prescribed the form of worship most acceptable to him, whoever admitted the truth of it, held, of conse- quence, every other system of religion as a deviation from what was estab- lished by divine authority, to be false and impious. Hence arose the zeal of the first converts to the Christian faith in propagating its doctrines, and the ardour with which they laboured to overturn every other form of wor- ship. They employed, however, for this purpose, no methods but such as suited the nature of religion. By the force of powerful arguments, they convinced the understandings of men ; by the charms of superior virtue, they allured and captivated their hearts. At length the civil power declared in favour of Christianity ; and though numbers, imitating the example of their superiors, crowded into the church, many still adhered to their ancient superstitions. Enraged at their obstinacy, the ministers of religion, whose zeal was still unabated, though their sanctity and virtue were much diminished, forgot so far the nature of their own mission, and of the arguments which they ought to have employed, that they armed the Imperial power against these unhappy men, and as they could not per- suade, they tried to compel them to believe. • 3Ieid. 630 F. Pan!. 363. PaUsv. p. 11. I6J. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 447 At the same time, controversies concerning articles of taith multiplied, from various causes, among Christians themselves, and the same unhallowed weapons which had at first been used against the enemies of their reli- gion, were turned against each other. Every zealous disputant endea- voured to interest the civil magistrate in his cause, and each in his turn employed the secular arm to crush or to exterminate his opponents. Not long after, the bishops of Rome put in their claim to infallibility in explaining articles of faith, and deciding points in controversy ; and, bold as the pretension was, they, by their artifices and perseverance, imposed on the credulity of mankind, and brought them to recognise it. To doubt or to deny any doctrine to which these unerring instructers had given the sanction of their approbation, was held to be not only a resisting of truth, but an act of rebellion against their sacred authority ; and the secular power, of which by various arts they had acquired the absolute direction, was instantly employed to avenge both. Thus Europe had been accustomed, during many centuries, to see spe- culative opinions propagated or defended by force ; the charity and mutual forbearance which Christianity recommends with so much warmth, were forgotten, the sacred rights of conscience and of private judgment were unheard of, and not only the idea of toleration, but even the word itself, in the sense now affixed to it, was unknown. A right to extirpate error by force was universally allowed to be the prerogative of such as pos- sessed the knowledge of truth ; and as each party of Christians believed that they had got possession of this invaluable attainment, they all claimed and exercised, as far as they were able, the rights which it was supposed to convey. The Roman catholics, as their system rested on the decisions of an infallible judge, never doubted that truth was on their side, and openly called on the civil power to repel the impious and heretical inno- vators who had risen up against it. The protestants, no less confident that their doctrine was well founded, required, with equal ardour, the princes of their party to check such as presumed to impugn it. Luther, Calvin, Cranmer, Knox, the founders of the reformed church in their respective countries, as far as they had power and opportunity, inflicted the same punishments upon such as called in question any article in their creeds, which were denounced against their own disciples by the church of Rome. To their followers, and perhaps to their opponents, it would have appeared a system of diffidence in the goodness of their cause, or an acknowledg- ment that it was not well founded, if they had not employed in its defence all those means which it was supposed truth had a right to employ. It was towards the close of the seventeenth century, before toleration, under its present form, was admitted first into the republic of the United Provinces, and from thence introduced into England. Long experience of the calamities flowing from mutual persecution, the influence of free government, the light and humanity acquired by the progress of science, together with the prudence and authority of the civil magistrate, were all requisite in order to establish a regulation, so repugnant to the ideas which all the different sects had adopted, from mistaken conceptions concerning the nature of religion and the rights of truth, or which all of them had derived from the erroneous maxims established by the church of Rome. The recess of Augsburg, it is evident, was founded on no such liberal and enlarged sentiments concerning freedom of religious inquiry, or the nature of toleration. It was nothing more than a scheme of pacification, which political considerations alone had suggested to the contending par- ties, and regard for their mutual tranquillity and safety had rendered neces- sary. Of this there can be no stronger proof than an article in the recess itself, by which the benefits of the pacification are declared to extend only to the catholics on the one side, and to such as adhered to the confession of Augsburg on the other. The followers of Zuingliua and Calvin remain- 448 THdK REIGN OF THE [Book XL ed, in consequence of that exclusion, without any protection from the rigour of the laws denounced against heretics. Nor did they obtain any legal security, until the treaty of Westphalia, near a century after this period, provided, that they should be admitted to enjoy, in as ample a manner as the Lutherans, all the advantages and protection which the recess of Augs- burg affords. But if the followers of Luther were highly pleased with the security which they acquired by this recess, such as adhered to the ancient system had no less reason to be satisfied with that article in it, which preserved entire to the Roman catholic church the benefices of such ecclesiastics as should hereafter renounce its doctrines. This article, known in Germany by the name of the Ecclesiastical Reservation, was apparently so conform- able to the idea and to the rights of an established church, and it seemed so equitable to prevent revenues, which had been originally appropriated lor the maintenance of persons attached to a certain system, from being alienated to any other purpose, that the protestants, though they foresaw its consequences, were obliged to relinquish their opposition to it. As the Roman catholic princes of the empire have taken care to see this article exactly observed in every case where there was an opportunity of putting it in execution, it has proved the great barrier of the Romisn church in Germany against the reformation; and as, from this period, the same temptation of interest did not allure ecclesiastics to relinquish the estab- lished system, there have been few of that order, who have loved truth with such disinterested and ardent affection, as, for its sake, to abandon (he rich benefices which they had in possession. During the sitting of the diet [April 9], Marcellus Cervino, cardinal of St. Croce, was elected pope in the room of Julius. He, in imitation of Adrian, did not change his name on being exalted to the papal chair. As he equalled that pontiff in purity of intention, while he excelled him much in the arts of government, and still more in knowledge of the state and genius of the papal court ; as he had capacity to discern what reformation it needed, as well as what it could bear ; such regulations were expected from his virtue and wisdom,_as would have removed many of its grossest and most flagrant corruptions, and have contributed towards reconciling to the church such as, from indignation at these enormities, had abandoned its communion. But this excellent pontiff was only shown to the church, and immediately snatched away. The confinement in the conclave had impaired his health, and the fatigue of tedious ceremonies upon his acces- sion, together with too intense and anxious application of mind to the schemes of improvement which he meditated, exhausted so entirely the vigour of his feeble constitution, that he sickened on the twelfth, and died on the twentieth day after his election.* All the refinements in artifice and intrigue, peculiar to conclaves, were displayed in that which was held for electing a successor to Marcellus ; the cardinals of the Imperial and French factions labouring, with equal ardour, to gain the necessary number of suffrages for one of their own party. But, after a struggle of no long duration, though conducted with all the warmth and eagerness natural to men contending for so great an object, they united in choosing John Peter Caraffa [May 23], the eldest member of the sacred college, and the son of count Montorio, a nobleman of an illustrious family in the kingdom of Naples. The address and influ- ence of cardinal Farnese, who favoured his pretensions, Caraffa's own merit, and perhaps his great age, which soothed all the disappointed can- didates with the near prospect of a new vacancy, concurred in bringing • ibout this speedy union of suffrages. In order to testify his respect for the memory of Paul III. by whom he had been created cardinal, ac wpII as ■ Thuan. ".-30. F. Paul. 365. Onnpli. Panvin. 991. tu EMPEROR CHARLES V." 44y his gratitude to the family of Farnese, he assumed the name of Paul the Fourth. The choice of a prelate of such a singular character, and who had long' held a course extremely different from that which usually led to the dig- nity now conferred upon him, filled the Italians, who had nearest access to observe his manners and deportment, with astonishment, and kept them in suspense and solicitude with regard to his future conduct. Paul, though born in a rank of life which, without any other merit, might have secured to him the highest ecclesiastical preferments, had, from his early years, applied to study with all the assiduity of a man who had nothing but his personal attainments to render him conspicuous. By means of this, he not only acquired profound skill in schplastic theology, but added to that a considerable knowledge of the learned languages and of polite literature, the study of which had been lately revived in Italy, and was pursued at this time with great ardour. His mind, however, naturally gloomy and severe, was more formed to imbibe the sour spirit of the former, than to receive any tincture of elegance or liberality of sentiment from the latter ; so that he acquired rather the qualities and passions of a recluse ecclesi- astic, than the talents necessary for the conduct of great affairs. Accord- ingly, when be entered into orders, although several rich benefices were bestowed upon him, and he was early employed as nuncio in different courts, he soon became disgusted with that course of life, and languished to be in a situation more suited to his taste and temper. With this view, he resigned at once all his ecclesiastical preferments ; and having instituted an order of regular priests, whom he denominated Theatines, from the name of the archbishopric which he had held, he associated himself as a member of their fraternity, conformed to all the rigorous rules to which he had subjected them, and preferred the solitude of a monastic life, with the honour of being the founder of a new order, to all the great objects which the court of Rome presented to his ambition. In this retreat he remained for many years, until Paul III., induced by the fame of his sanctity and knowledge, called him to Rcma, in order to consult with him concerning the measures which might be most proper and effectual for suppressing heresy, and re-establishing the ancient authority of the church. Having thus allured him from his solitude, the pope, partly by his entreaties, and partly by his authority, prevailed on him to accept of a cardinal's hat, to reassume the benefices which he had resigned, and to return again into the usual path of ecclesiastical ambition which he seemed to have relinquished. But, during two successive pontificates, under the first of which the court of Rome was the most artful and inter- ested, and under the second the most dissolute of any in Europe, Caraffa retained his monastic austerity. He was an avowed and bitter enemy not only of all innovation in opinion, but of every irregularity in practice ; he was the chief instrument in establishing the formidable and odious tribunal of the inquisition in the papal territories ; he appeared a violent advocate on all occasions for the jurisdiction and discipline of the church, and a severe censurer of every measure which seemed to flow from motives of policy or interest, rather than from zeal for the honour of the ecclesiastical order, and the dignity of the holy see. Under a prelate of such a charac- ter, the Romui courtiers expected a severe and violent pontificate, during which the principles of sound policy would be sacrificed to the narrow prejudices of priestly zeal ; while the people of Rome were apprehensive of seeing the sordid and forbidding rigour of monastic manners substituted in place of the gayety or magnificence to which they had long been accus- tomed in the papal court. These apprehensions Paul was extremely soli- citous to remove. At his first entrance upon the administration, he laid aside that austerity which had hitherto distinguished his person and family, nnd when the master of bis household inquired in what manner he would Vor. II.— 57 450 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XL choose to Jive, he haughtily replied, "As becomes a great prince." He ordered the ceremony of his coronation to be conducted with more than usual pomp ; and endeavoured to render himself popular by several acts of liberality and indulgence towards the inhabitants of Rome.* His natural severity of temper, however, would have soon returned upon him, and would have justified the conjectures of the courtiers, as well as the fears of the people, if he had not, immediately after his election, called to Rome two of his nephews, the sons of his brother the count of Montorio. The eldest he promoted to be governor of Rome. The youngest, who had hitherto served as a soldier of fortune in the armies of Spain or France, and whose disposition as well as manners were still more foreign from the clerical character than his profession, he created a cardinal, and appointed, him legate of Bologna, the second office in power and dignity which a pope can bestow. These marks of favour, no less sudden than extrava- gant, he accompanied with the most unbounded confidence and attach- ment, and forgetting all his former severe maxims, he seemed to have no other object than the aggrandizement of his nephews. Their ambition, unfortunately for Paul, was too aspiring to be satisfied with any moderate acquisition. They had seen the family of Medici raised by the interest of the popes of that house to supreme power in Tuscany ; Paul HI. had, by his abilities and address, secured the dutchies of Parma and Placentia to the family of Farnese. They aimed at some establishment for them- selves, no less considerable and independent ; and as they could not expect that the pope would carry his indulgence towards them so far as to secu- larize any part of the patrimony of the church, they had no prospect of attaining what they wished, but by dismembering the Imperial dominions in Italy, in hopes of seizing some portion of them. This alone they would have deemed a sufficient reason tor sowing the seeds of discord between their uncle and the emperor. But cardinal Caratfa had, besides, private reasons which filled him with hatred and enmity to the emperor. While he served in the Spanish troops he had not received such marks of honour and distinction as he thought due to his birth and merit. ^Disgusted with this ill usage, he had abruptly quitted the Imperial service ; and entering into that of France, he had not only met with such a reception as soothed his vanity, and attached him to the French interest, but by contracting an intimate friendship with Strozzi, who commanded the French army in Tuscany, he had imbibed a mortal antipathy to the emperor as the great enemy to the liberty and independence of the Italian states. Nor was the pope himself indisposed to receive im- pressions unfavourable to the emperor. The opposition given to his election by the cardinals of the Imperial faction, left in his mind deep resentment, which was heightened by the remembrance of ancient injuries from Charles or his ministers. Of this his nephews took advantage, and employed various devices, in order to exasperate him beyond a possibility of reconciliation. They ag- gravated every circumstance which could be deemed any indication of the emperor's dissatisfaction with his promotion ; they read to him an inter- cepted letter, in which Charles taxed the cardinals of his party with negli- gence or incapacity in not having defeated Paul's election : they pretended, at one time, to have discovered a conspiracy formed by the Imperial minister and Cosmo di Medici against the pope's life ; they alarmed him, at another, with accounts of a plot for assassinating themselves. By these artifices, they kept his mind, which was naturally violent, and become suspicious from old age, in such perpetual agitation, as precipitated him into measures which otherwise he would have been the first person to con- demn.j He seized some of the cardinals who were most attached to the * Platina, p. 327. Castaldo Vita di Paolo TV. Rom. 1615, p. 70. t Ripanimitii Hist, Patri;e lib. in. J146. ap. Gncv. Thes. vol. ii. M»tu. d<: RiUier. ii. 615. .Adriani Istor • EMPEROR CHARLES V. 451 emperor, and confined them in the castle of St. Angelo ; he persecuted the Colonnas and other Roman barons, the ancient retainers to the Imperial faction, with the utmost severity ; and discovering on all occasions, his distrust, fear, or hatred of the emperor, he began at last to court the friend- ship of the French king, and seemed willing to throw himself absolutely upon him for support and protection. This was the very point to which his nephews wished to bring him, as most favourable to their ambitious schemes ; and as the accomplishment of these depended on their uncle's life, whose advanced age did not admit of losing a moment unnecessarily in negotiations, instead of treating at second- hand with the French ambassador at Rome, they prevailed on the pope to despatch a person of confidence directly to the court of France, with such overtures on his part as they hoped would not be rejected. He proposed an alliance offensive and defensive between Henry and the pope ; that they should attack the dutchy of Tuscany and the kingdom of Naples with their united forces; and if their arms should prove successful, that the ancient republican form of government should be re-established in the former, and the investiture ol the latter shouid be granted to one of the French king's sons, after reserving a certain territory which should be annexed to the patrimony of the church, together with an independent and princely establishment for each of the pope's nephews. The king, allured by these specious projects, gave a most favourable audience to the envoy. But when the matter was proposed in council, the constable Montmorency, whose natural caution and aversion to daring enterprises increased with age and experience, remonstrated with great vehemence against the alliance. He put Henry in mind how fatal to France every expedition into Italy had been during three successive reigns, and it such an enterprise had proved too great for the nation even when its strength and finances were entire, there was no reason to hope for success, if it should be attempted now, when both were exhausted by extraordinary efforts during wars, which had lasted, with little interruption, almost halt a century. He represented the manifest imprudence of entering into engagements with a pope of fourscore, as any system which rested on no better foundation than his life, must be extremely precarious, and upon the event of his death, which could not be distant, the face of things, together with the inclination of the Italian states, must instantly change, and the whole weight of the war be left upon the king alone. To these considera- tions he added the near prospect which they now had of a final accommo- dation with the emperor, who, having taken the resolution of retiring from the world, wished to transmit his kingdoms in peace to his- son; and he concluded with representing the absolute certainty of drawing the arms of England upon France, it it should appear that the re-establishment of tranquillity in Europe was prevented by the ambition of its monarch. These arguments, weighty in themselves, and urged by a minister of great authority, would probably have determined the king to decline any connection with the pope. But the duke of Guise, and his brother the cardinal of Lorrain, who delighted no less in bold and dangerous under- takings than Montmorency shunned them, declared warmly for an alliance with the pope. The cardinal expected to be intrusted with the conduct of the negotiations in the court of Rome to which this alliance would give rise ; the duke hoped to obtain the command of the army which would be appointed to invade Naples; and considering themselves as already in these stations, vast projects opened to their aspiring and unbounded ambi- tion. Their credit, together with the influence of the king's mistress, the famous Diana of Poitiers, who was, at that time, entirely devoted to the interest of the family of Guise, more than counterbalanced all Montmorency's prudent remonstrances, and prevailed on an inconsiderate prince to listen to the overtures of the pope'* envoy. io2 THE REIGN OF THE |Book XI. The cardinal of Lorrain, as he had expected, was immediately sent to Rome with full powers to conclude the treaty, and to concert measures for carrying it into execution. Before he could reach that city, the pope, either Irom reflecting on the danger and uncertain issue of all military operations, or through the address of the Imperial ambassador, who had been at great pains to soothe him, had not only begun to lose much of the ardour with which he had commenced the negotiation with France, but even discovered great unwillingness to continue it. In order to rouse him from this fit of despondency, and to rekindle his former rage, his nephews had recourse to the arts which they had already practised with so much success. They alarmed him with new representations of the emperor's hostile intentions, with fresh accounts which they had received of threats uttered against him by the Imperial ministers, and with new discoveries which they pretended to have made of conspiracies formed, and just ready to take effect against his life. But these artifices, having been formerly tried, would not have operated a second time with the same force, nor have made the impression which they wished, if Paul had not been excited by an offence of that kind which he was least able to bear. He received advice of the recess of the diet of Augsburg, and of the toleration which was thereby granted to the protestants; and this threw him at once into such transports of passion against the emperor and the king of the Romans, as carried him headlong into all the violent measures ot his nephews. Full of high ideas with respect to the papal prerogative, and animated with the fiercest zeal against heresy, he considered the liberty of deciding concerning religious matters, which had been assumed by an assembly composed chiefly of laymen, as a presumptuous and unpardonable encroachment on that jurisdiction which belonged to him alone ; and regarded the indulgence which had been given to the protestants as an impious act of that power which the diet had usurped. He complained loudly of both to the Imperial ambassador. He insisted that the recess of the diet should immediately be declared illegal and void. He threatened the emperor and king of the -Romans, in case they should either refuse or delay to gratify him in this particular, with the severest effects of his vengeance. He talked in a tone of authority and command which might have suited a pontiff of the twelfth century, when a papal decree was sufficient to have shaken, or to have overturned, the throne of the greatest monarch in Europe ; but which was altogether improper in that age, espe- cially when addressed to the minister ot a prince who had so ofteD made pontiffs more formidable than Paul feel the weight of his power. The ambassador, however, heard all his extravagant propositions and menaces with much patience, and endeavoured to soothe him, by putting him in mind of the extreme distress to which the emperor had been reduced at Inspruck, of the engagements which he had come nnder to the protes- tants, in order to extricate himself, of the necessity of fulfilling these, and of accommodating his conduct to the situation of his affairs. But weighty as these considerations were, they made no impression on the mind ot the haughty and bigoted pontiff, who instantly replied that he would absolve him by his apostolic authority from those impious engagements, and even command him not to perform them ; that in carrying on the cause of God and of the church, no regard ought to be had to the maxims of worldly prudence and policy ; and that the ill success of the emperor's schemes in Germany might justly be deemed a mark of the divine displeasure against him, on account of his having paid little attention to the former, while he regulated his conduct entirely by the latter. Having said this, he turned from the ambassador abruptly without waiting for a reply. His nephews took care to applaud and cherish these sentiments, and easily wrought up his arrogant mind, fraught with all the monkish idea? EMPEROR CHARLES V. 453 concerning the extent of the papal supremacy, to such a pitch of resent- ment against the house of Austria, and to such a high opinion of his own power, that he talked continually of his being the successor of those who had deposed kings and emperors ; that he was exalted as head over them all, ana would trample such as opposed him under his feet. In this dis- position the cardinal of Lorrain found the pope, and easily persuaded him to sign a treaty [Dec. 15] which had for its object the ruin of a prince, against whom he was so highly exasperated. The stipulations in this treaty were much the same as had been proposed by the pope's envoy at Paris ; and it was agreed to keep the whole transaction secret until their united forces should be ready to take the field.* During the negotiation of this treaty at Rome and Paris, an event hap- pened which seemed to render the fears that had given rise to it vain, and the operations which were to follow upon it unnecessary. This was the emperor's resignation of his hereditary dominions to his son Philip ; together with his resolution to withdraw entirely from any concern in business or the affairs of this world, in order that he might spend the remainder of his days in retirement and solitude. Though it requires neither deep reflection nor extraordinary discernment to discover that the state of royalty is not exempt from cares and disappointment ; though most of those who are exalted to a throne find solicitude, and satiety, and disgust to be their perpetual attendants in that envied pre-eminence ; yet to descend voluntarily from the supreme to a subordinate station, and to relinquish the possession of power in order to attain the enjoyment of happiness, seems to be an effort too great for the human mind. Several instances, indeed, occur in history, of monarchs who have quitted a throne, and have ended their days in retirement. But they were either weak princes who took this resolution rashly, and repented of it as soon as it was taken ; or unfortunate princes, from whose hands some stronger rival had wrested their sceptre, and compelled them to descend with reluctance into a private station. Dioclesian is perhaps the only prince capable of holding the reins of government, who ever resigned them from deliberate choice, and who continued during many years to enjoy the tranquillity of retirement without fetching one penitent sigh, or casting back one look of desire, towards the power or dignity which he had abandoned. No wonder, then, that Charles's resignation should fill all Europe with astonishment, and give rise, both among his contemporaries, and among the historians of that period, to various conjectures concerning the motives which determined a prince, whose ruling passion had been uniformly the Jove of power, at the age of fifty-six, when objects of ambition continue to operate with full force on the mind, and are pursued with the greatest ardour, to take a resolution so singular and unexpected. But while many authors have imputed it to motives so frivolous and fantastical, as can hardly be supposed to influence any reasonable mind ; while others have imagined it to be the result of some profound scheme of policy ; historians more intelligent and better informed, neither ascribe it to caprice, nor search for mysterious secrets of state, where simple and obvious causes will fully account for the emperor's conduct. Charles had been attacked early in life with the gout, and notwithstanding all the precautions of the most skilful physicians, the violence of the distemper increased as he advanoed in age, and the fits became every year more frequent, as well as more severe. Not only was the vigour of his constitution broken, but die facul- ties of his mind were impaired by the excruciating torments which he endured. During the continuance of the fits, he was altogether incapable of applying to business, and even when they began to abate, as it was only • Paliav. lib. zttL p. VS. F. Pan), 365. Tbtiaii. lib xv. 595. Iw. xvi. 540, Mem. deRIMer, ii. MP. kr. 454 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XL at intervals that he could attend to what was serious, he gave up a great part of his time to trifling and even childish occupations, which served to relieve or to amuse his mind, enfeebled and worn out with excess of pain. Under these circumstances, the conduct of such affairs as occurred of course, in governing so many kingdoms, was a burden more than sufficient : but to push forward and complete the vast schemes which the ambition of his more active years had formed, or to keep in view and cany on the same great system of policy, extending to every nation in Europe, and connected with the operations of every different court, were functions which so far exceeded his strength, that they oppressed and overwhelmed his mind. As he had been long accustomed to view the business of every depart- ment, whether civil, or military, or ecclesiastical, with his own eyes, and to decide concerning it according to his own ideas, it gave him the utmost pain when he felt his infirmities increase so fast upon him, that he was obliged to commit the conduct of all affairs to his ministers. He imputed every misfortune which befell him, and every miscarriage that happened, even when the former was unavoidable and the latter accidental, to his inability to take the inspection of business himself. He complained of his hard fortune, in being opposed, in his declining years, to a rival, who was in the full vigour of life, and that while Henry could take and exe- cute all his resolutions in person, he should now be reduced, both in coun- cil and in action, to rely on the talents and exertions of other men. Having thus grown old before his time, he wisely judged it more decent to con- ceal his infirmities in some solitude, than to expose them any longer to the public eye ; and prudently determined not to forfeit the fame, or lose the acquisitions of his better years, by struggling, with a vain obstinacy, to retain the reins of government, when he was no longer able to hold them with steadiness, or to guide them with address.* But though Charles had revolved this scheme in his mind for several years, and had communicated it to his sisters the dowager queens of France and Hungary, who not only approved of his intention, but offered to accompany him to whatever place of retreat he should choose ; several things had hitherto prevented his carrying it into execution. He could not think of loading his son with the government of so many kingdoms, until he should attain such maturity of age, and of abilities, as would enable him to sustain that weighty burden. But as Philip had now reached his twenty-eighth year, and had been early accustomed to business, for which he discovered both inclination and capacity, it can hardly be imputed to the partiality of paternal affection, that his scruples, with regard to this point, were entirely removed; and that he thought he might place his son, without further hesitation or delay, on the throne which he himself was about to abandon. His mother's situation had been another obstruction in his way. For although she had continued almost fifty years in confine- ment, and under the same disorder of mind which concern for her hus- * Don Levesque, in his memoirs of cardinal Granvelle, gives a reason for the emperor's resigna- tion, which, as far as I recollect, is not mentioned by any other historian. He says, that the emperor having ceded the government of the kingdom of Naples and the dutchy of Milan to his son, upon his marriage with the queen of England ; Philip, notwithstanding the advice and entreaties of his father, removed most of the ministers and offices whom he had employed in those countries, and appointed creatures of his own, to fill the places \\ lib h tin y held. That be aspired openly, and with little delicacy, to obtain a share in the administration of affairs in the Low-Countries. That he endeavoured to thwart th'j emperor's measures, and to limit his authority, behaving towards him sometimes with inattention, and Bornetjmcs with haughtiness. That Charles finding that he must either yield on every occasion to his son, or openly contend with him, in order to avoid either of these, which were boih disagreeable and mortifying to a lather, he took the resolution of resigning Ins crowns, and of retiring from the world, vol. i. p. L24, Sec. Don Levesque derived his Information concerning these curious tacts, which he relates very briefly, from the original papers of cardinal Granvelle. But as that vast collection of papers, which has been preserved and arranged by M. I'alibe Boizot of Besancon, though one of the most valuable historical monuments of the sixteenth century, ami which cannot fail of throwing much light on the transactions of Charles V., is not published, i cannot determine what degree of credit should be given to this account of Charles's resignation. I have therefore taken no notice of it in relating this event. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 455 band's death had brought upon her, yet the government of Spain was still invested in her jointly with the emperor; her name was inserted together with his in all the public instruments issued in that kingdom ; and. such was the fond attachment of the Spaniards to her, that they would probably have scrupled to recognise Philip as their sovereign, unless she had con- sented to assume him as her partner on the throne Her utter incapacity for business rendered it impossible to obtain her consent. But her death, which happened this year, removed this difficulty ; and as Charles, upon that event, became sole monarch of Spain, it left the succession open to his son. The war with Prance had likewise been a reason for retaining the administration of affairs in his own hand, as he was extremely solicitous to have terminated it, that he might have given up his kingdoms to his son at peace with all the world. But as Hemy had discovered no disposition to close with any of his overtures, and had even rejected proposals of peace, which were equal and moderate, in a tone that seemed to indicate a fixed purpose of continuing hostilities, he saw that it was vain to wait longer in expectation of an event, which, however desirable, was altogether uncertain. As this, then, appeared to be the proper juncture for executing the scheme which he had long meditated, Charles resolved to resign his kingdoms to his son, with a solemnity suitable to the importance of the transaction, and to perform this last act of sovereignty with such formal pomp, as might leave a lasting impression on the minds not only of his subjects but of his successor. With this view he called Philip out of England, where the peevish temper of his queen, which increased with her despair of having issue, rendered him extremely unhappy; and the jealousy of the English left him no hopes of obtaining the direction of their affairs. Having assembled the States of the Low-Countries at Brussels, on the twenty-fifth of October, Charles seated himself, for the last time, in the chair of state, on one side of which was placed his son, and on the other his sister, the queen of Hungary, regent of the Netherlands, with a splendid retinue of the- princes of the empire and grandees of Spain standing behind him. The president of the council of Flanders, by his command, explained, in a few words, his intention in calling this extraordinary meeting of the States. He then read the instrument of resignation, by which Charles surrendered to his son Philip all his territories, jurisdiction, and authority in the Low-Countries, absolving his subjects there from their oath of alle- giance to him, which he required them to transfer to Philip his lawful heir, and to serve him with the same loyalty and zeal which they had mani- fested, during so long a course of years, in support of his government. Charles then rose from his seat, and leaning on the shoulder of the prince of Orange, because he was unable to stand without support, he addressed himself to the audience, and from a paper which he held in his hand, in order to assist his memory, he recounted, with dignity, but without osten- tation, all the great things which he had undertaken and performed since the commencement of his administration. He observed, that from the seventeeth year of his age, he had dedicated all his thoughts and attention to public objects, reserving no portion of his time for the indulgence of his ease, and very little for the enjoyment of private pleasure; that either in a pacific or hostile manner, he had visited Germany nine times, Spain six times, France four times, Italy seven times, the Low -Countries ten times, England twice, Africa as often, and had made eleven voyages by sea; that while his health permitted him to discharge his duty, and the vigour of his constitution was equal, in any degree, to the arduous office of governing such extensive dominions, he had never shunned labour, nor repined under fatigue; that now, when his health was broken, and his vigour exhausted by the rage of an incurable distemper, his growing infirmi- ties admonished him to retire, nor was he so fond of reigning, as to retain 456 T HE REIGN OF THE [Book XI. the sceptre in an impotent hand, which was no longer able to protect his .subjects, or to secure to them the happiness which he wished they should enjoy ; that instead of a sovereign worn out with disease, and scarcely halt* alive, he gave them one in the prime of lite, accustomed already to govern, and who added to the vigour of youth all the attention and sagacity of maturer years; that if, during the course of a long administration, he had committed any material error in government, or if, under the pressure of so many and great affairs, and amidst the attention which he had been obliged to give to them, he had either neglected or injured any of his sub- jects, he now implored their forgiveness ; that, for his part, he should ever retain a grateful sense of their fidelity end attachment, and would carry the remembrance of it along with him to the place of his retreat, as his sweetest consolation, as well as the best reward for all his services, and in his last prayers to Almighty God would pour forth his most earnest peti- tions for their welfare. Then turning towards Philip, who fell on his knees and kissed his father's hand, "If," says he, "I had left you by death this rich inheritance, to which I have made such large additions, some regard would have been justly due to my memory on that account ; but now, when I voluntarily resign to you, what I might have still retained, I may well expect the warmest expressions of thanks on your part. With these, however, I dis- pense, and shall consider your concern for the welfare of your subjects, and your love of them, as the best and most acceptable testimony ot your gratitude to me. It is in your power, by a wise and virtuous administration, tojustify the extraordinary proof which I, this day, give of my paternal affection, and to demonstrate that you are worthy of the confidence which 1 repose in you. Preserve an inviolable regard for religion; maintain the catholic faith in its purity; let the laws of your country be sacred in your eyes; encroach not on the rights and privileges of your people ; and if the time should ever come when you shall wish to enjoy the tranquillity of private life, may you have a son endowed with such qualities, that you can resign your sceptre to him with as much satisfaction as I give up mine toyou.'Y As soon as Charles had finished this long address to his subjects and to their new sovereign, he sunk into the chair, exhausted and ready to faint with the fatigue of such an extraordinary effort. During his discourse, the whole audience melted into tears, some from admiration of his magna- nimity, others softened by the expressions of tenderness . towards his son, and of love to his people ; and all were affected with the deepest sorrow at losing a sovereign, who, during his administration, had distinguished the Netherlands, his native country, with particular marks of his regard and attachment. Philip then arose from his knees, and after returning thanks to his father, with a low and submissive voice, for the royal gift which his unexampled bounty had bestowed upon him, he addressed the assembly of the States, and regretting his inability to speak the Flemish language with such facility as to express what he felt on this interesting1 occasion, as well as what he owed to his good subjects in the Netherlands, he begged that they would permit Granvelle bishop of Arras to deliver what he had given him in charge to speak in his name. Granvelle, in a long discourse, expatiated on the zeal with which Philip was animated for the good of his subjects, on his resolution to devote all his time and talents to the promoting of their happiness, and on his intention to imitate his father's example in distin- guishing the Netherlands with peculiar marks of his regard. Maeis, a lawyer of great eloquence, replied, in the name of the States, with large professions of their fidelity and affection to their new sovereign. 1556.] Then Mary, queen-dowager of Hungary, resigned the regency with which she hail been intrusted by her brother during the space of EMPEROR CHARLES \. 45T twenty-rive years. Next day [Jan. 6.] Philip, in presence of the States, took the usual oaths to maintain the rights and privileges of his subjects; and all the members, in their own name, and in that ot their constituents, swore allegiance to him.* A few weeks after this transaction, Charles, in an assembly no less splendid, and with a ceremonial equally pompous, resigned to his son the crowns of Spain, with all the territories depending on them, both in the old and in the new world. Of all these vast possessions, he reserved nothing for himself but an annual pension of a hundred thousand crowns, to defray the charges of his family, and to afford him a small sum for acts of beneficence ami charity. t As he had fiver! on a place of retreat in Spain, hoping that the dryness of the air and the warmth of the climate in that country might mitigate the violence of his disease, which had been much increased by the moisture of the air and the rigour of the winters in the Netherlands, he was extremely impatient to embark for that kingdom, and to disengage himself entirely from business, which he found to be impossible while he remained in Brus- sels. But his physicians remonstrated so strongly against his venturing to sea at that cold and boisterous season of the year, that he consented, though with reluctance, to put off his voyage for some months. By yielding to their entreaties, he had the satisfaction, before he left the Low-Countries, of taking a considerable step towards a peace with France, which he ardently wished for, not only on his son's account, but that be might have the merit, when quitting the world, of re-establishing that tran- quillity in Europe, which he had banished out of it almost from the time that he had assumed the administration of affairs. Previous to his resigna- tion, commissioners had been appointed by him and by the French king, in order to treat of an exchange of prisoners. In their conference at the Abbey of Vaticelles, near Cambray, an expedient was accidentally proposed for terminating hostilities between the contending monarchs, by a long truce, during the subsistence of which, and without discussing their respec- tive claims, each should retain what was now in his possession. Charles, sensible how much his kingdoms were exhausted by the expensive and almost continual wars in which his ambition had engaged him, and eager to gain for his son a short interval of peace, that he might establish himself firmly on his dirone, declared warmly for closing with the overture, though * Godleveus Relatio Abdicationis Car. V. ap. Goldast. Polit. Impcr. p. 377. Strada de Bello Belgico, lib. i. p. 5. t The emperor's resignation is an event not only of such importance, but of such a nature, that the precise date of it, one would expect, should have been ascertained by historians with the greatest accuracy. There is, however, an amazing and an unaccountable diversity among them with regard to this point. All agree, that the deed by which Charles transferred to his son his dominions in the Netherlands, bears date at Brussels the 25th of October. Sandoval fixes on the Sffth of Octo- ber as the day on which the ceremony of resignation happened, and he was present at the transac- tion, vol. ii. p. 592. Godleveus, who published a treatise de Abdicatione Caroli V. fixes the public ceremony, as well as the date of the instrument of resignation, on the 25th. Pere Barre, I know not upon what authority, fixes it on the 24th of November, Hist. d'Alem. viii. 976. Herrera agrees with Godleveus in his account of this matter, torn i. 155. as likewise does Pallavicini, whose authority with respect to dates, and every thing where a minute accuracy is requisite, is of great weight, Hist, lib. xvi. p. 163. Historians differ no less with regard to the day on which Charles resigned the crown of Spain to his son. According to M. , Sand. ii. 603. Antonio de Vera agrees with him, Epitome del VHa del Car. v. p. 110. According to Pallavicini, it was on the 17th, Pal. lib. v. i. p. 168. and with him Herrera agrees, Vida del I) Feline, torn. i. p. 233. But lYrreras fixes it on the first day of January, Hist Gener, torn. ix. p 371 MTdeBeaucaire supposes the resignation of the crown of Spain to have been executed a few days after the resignation of the Netherlands, Com. de Reb. Gall. p. 879. It is remarkable, thai in the treaty of trace at VauceUes, though ( 'harli s had made over all his dominions to his son some weeks previous to I he conclusion of it, ;:ll the stipulations are in the emperor's name, and Philip is only styled king of England and Naples. Ii is certain Philip was not proclaimed king of Castile, fee. at Valludolid sooner than the 24th of March, Sandov. ii. p. 606 , and previous totliat ceremony, he did not (house, it should teem, to assume the title of king of any of his Spanish kingdoms, or to perform any an of royal jurisdiction. In a deed annexed to the treaty of truce, dated April 19, he assumes the title of kins ot 'Castile, fee. in the usual st vie of the Spanish monarchs in that ni'e. Corps Dipl. torn. iv. Append p. 85. Vol. II.— 58 458 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XI. manifestly dishonourable as well as disadvantageous ; and such was the respect due to his wisdom and experience, that Philip, notwithstanding his unwillingness to purchase peace by such concessions, did not presume to urge his opinion in opposition to that of his father. Henry could not have hesitated one moment about giving his consent to a truce on such conditions, as would leave him in qu>et possession of the greater part of the duke of Savoy's dominions, together with the important conquests which he had made on the German frontier. But it was no easy matter to reconcile such a step with the engagements which he had come under to the pope in his late treaty with him. The constable Montmo- rency, however, represented in such a striking light the imprudence of sacrificing the true interests of his kingdom to these rash obligations, and took such advantage ol the absence of the cardinal of Lorrain, who had seduced the king into his alliance with the Caraffas, that Henry, who was naturally fluctuating and unsteady, and apt to be influenced by the advice last give him, authorized his ambassadors [5th Feb.] to sign a treaty of truce with the emperor for five years, on the terms which had been pro- mised. But that he might not seem to have altogether lorgotten his ally the pope, who, he foresaw, would be highly exasperated, he, in order to soothe him, took care that he should be expressly included in the truce.* The count of Lalain repaired to Blois, and the admiral Coligny to Brus- sels, the former to be present when the king of France, and the latter when the emperor and his son ratified the treaty and bound themselves by oath to observe it.t When an account of the conference at Vaucelles, and of the conditions of truce which had been proposed there, were first carried to Home, it gave the pope no manner of disquiet. He trusted so much to the honour of the French monarch, that he would not allow himself to think that Henry could forget so soon, or violate so shamefully, all the stipulations in his league with him. He had such a high opinion of the emperor's wisdom, that he made no doubt of his refusing his consent to a truce, on such unequal terms : and on both these accounts he confidently pronounced that this, like many preceding negotiations, would terminate in nothing. But later and more certain intelligence soon convinced him that no reasoning in political affairs is more fallacious, than, because an event is improbable, to conclude that it will not happen. The sudden and unexpected conclusion of the truce filled Paul with astonishment and terror. The cardinal of Lorrain durst not encounter that storm of indignation, to which he knew that he should be exposed from the haughty pontiff, who had so good reason to be incensed ; but departing abruptly irom Rome, he left to the cardinal Tournon the dif- ficult task of attempting to soothe Paul and his nephews. They were fully sensible of the perilous situation in which they now stood. By their engagements with France, which were no longer secret, they had highly irritated Philip. They dreaded the violence of his implacable temper. The duke of Alva, a minister fitted, as well by his abilities as by the severity of his nature, for executing all Philip's rigorous schemes, had advanced from Milan to Naples, and began to assemble troops on the frontiers of the eccle- siastical state : while they, if deserted by France, must not only relinqui>h all the hopes of dominion and sovereignty to which their ambition aspired, but remained exposed to the resentment of the Spanish monarch, without one ally to protect them against an enemy with whom they were so little able to contend. Under these circumstances, Paul had recourse to the arts of negotiation * Mem. de Ribier, ii. 026. Corps Diplom. torn. iv. App.81. t One of admiral de Coligny's attendants, who wrote the court of France an account of what hap- pened while they resided at Brussels, takes notice, as an instance of Philip's unpolitcness, thai he. received the French ambassador in an apartment hung with tapestry, which represented the battle of Pavia, the manner in which Francis I. was taken prisoner, his voyage to Spain, with all the mortifying circumstances of his captivity and imprisonment at Madrid. Man. d<- Ribier. ii. 634. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 459 and intrigue, of which the papal court knows well how to avail itself in order to ward off any calamity threatened by an enemy superior in power. He affected to approve highly of the truce, as a happy expedient for putting a stop to the effusion of Christian blood. He expressed his warmest wishes that it might prove the forerunner of a definitive peace. He exhorted the rival princes to embrace this favourable opportunity of setting on foot a negotiation for that purpose, and offered, as their common father, to be mediator between them. Under this pretext, he appointed cardinal Rebiba his nuncio to the court of Brussels, and his nephew cardinal Carafe to that of Paris. The public instructions given to both were the same ; that they should use their utmost endeavours to prevail with the two monarchs to accept of the pope's mediation, that, by means of it, peace might be re-established, and measures might be taken lor assembling a general council. But under this specious appearance of zeal for attaining objects so desirable in themselves, and so becoming his sacred character to pursue, Paul concealed very different intentions. Caraffa, besides his public instructions, received a private commission to solicit the French king to renounce the treaty of truce, and to renew his engagements with the holy see ; and he was empowered to spare neither entreaties, nor promises, nor bribes, in order to gain that point. This, both the uncle and the nephew considered as the real end of the embassy ; while the other served to amuse the vulgar, or to deceive the emperor and his son. The cardinal, accordingly, set out instantly for Paris [llth March], and travelled with the greatest expedition, while Rebiba was detained some weeks at Rome ; and when it became necessary for him to begin his journey, he received secret orders to protract it as much as possible, that the issue of Caraffa's negotiation might be known before he might reach Brussels, and according to that, proper directions might be given to him with regard to the tone which he should assume, in treating with the emperor and his son.* Caraffa made his entrance into Paris with extraordinary pomp : and having presented a consecrated sword to Henry, as the protector on whose aid the pope relied in the present exigency, he besought him not to disre- gard the entreaties of a parent in distress, but to employ that weapon which he gave him in his defence. This he represented not only as a duty of filial piety, but as an act of justice. As the pope, from confidence in the assistance and support which his late treaty with France entitled him to expect, had taken such steps as had irritated the king of Spain, he conjured Henry not to suffer Paul and his family to be crushed under the weight of that resentment which they had drawn on themselves merely by their attachment to France. Together with this argument addressed to his generosity, he employed another which he hoped would work on his ambi- tion. He affirmed that now was the time, when, with the most certain prospect of success, he might attack Philip's dominions in Italy ; that the flower of the veteran Spanish bands had perished in the wars of Hungary, Germany, and the Low-Countries ; that the emperor had left his son an exhausted treasury, and kingdoms drained of men ; that he had no longer to contend with the abilities, the experience, and good fortune of Charles, but with a monarch scarcely seated on his throne, unpractised in com- mand, odious to many of the Italian States, and dreaded by all. He pro- mised that the pope, who had already levied soldiers, would bring a consi- derable army into the field, which, when joined by a sufficient number ot French troops, might, by one brisk and sudden effort, drive the Spaniards out of Naples, and add to the crown of France a kingdom, the conquest of which had been the great object of all his predecessors during halt a cen- tury, and the chief motive ot all their expeditions into Italy. July 31.] Every word Carafla spoke made a deep impression on Henry ■ * Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 169. Rumo! Hist, of Fofnrm. ii. Apr. 309. 460 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XI. conscious on the one hand, that the pope had just cause to reproach him with having violated the laws not only of generosity but of decency, when he renounced his league with him, and had agreed to the truce of Vau- celles ; and eager on the other hand, not only to distinguish his reign by a conquest which three former monarchs had attempted without success, but likewise to acquire an establishment of such dignity and value for one of his sons. Reverence, however, tor the oath, by which he had so lately confirmed the truce of Vaucelles ; the extreme old age of the pope, whose death might occasion an entire revolution in the political system of Italy ; together with the representations of Montmorency, who repeated all the arguments he had used against the first league with Paul, and pointed out the great and immediate advantages which France derived from the truce ; kept Henry for some time in suspense, and might possibly have outweigh- ed all CaraftVs arguments. But the cardinal was not such a novice in the arts of intrigue and negotiation, as not to have expedients ready for re- moving or surmounting all these obstacles. To obviate the king's scruple with regard to his oath, he produced powers from the pope, to absolve him from the obligation of it. By way of security against any danger which he might apprehend from the pope's death, he engaged that his uncle would make such a nomination of cardinals, as should give Henry the absolute command of the next election, and enable him to place in the papal chair a person entirely devoted to his interest. In order to counterbalance the effect of the constable's opinion and influ- ence, he employed not only the active talents of the duke of Guise, and the eloquence of his brother the cardinal of Lorrain, but the address of the queen, aided by the more powerful arts of Diana of Poitiers, who, unfortu- nately for France, co-operated with Catherine in this point, though she took pleasure, on almost every other occasion, to thwart and mortify her. They, by their united solicitations, easily swayed the king, who leaned, of his own accord, to that side towards which they wished him to incline. All Montmorency's prudent remonstrances were disregarded ; the nuncio absolved Hemy from his oath ; and he signed a new league with the pope, which rekindled the 'flames of war both in Italy and in the Low-Countries. As soon as Paul was informed by his nephew that there was a fair prospect of succeeding in this negotiation, he despatched a messenger after the nuncio Rebiba [July 31], with orders to return to Rome, without proceeding to Brussels. As it was now no longer necessary to preserve that tone" of moderation, which suited the character of a mediator, and which he had affected to assume, or to put any farther restraint upon his resentment against Philip, he boldly threw off the mask, and took such violent steps as rendered a rupture unavoidable. He seized and impri- soned the Spanish envoy at his court. He excommunicated the Colonnas ; and having deprived Mark Antonio, the head of that family, of the duke- dom of Paliano, he granted that dignity, together with the territory annex- ed to it, to his nephew the count of Montorio. He ordered a legal information to be presented in the consistory of cardinals against Philip, setting forth that he, notwithstanding the fidelity and allegiance due by him to the holy see, of which he held the kingdom of Naples, had not only afforded a retreat in his dominions to the Colonnas, whom the pope had excommunicated and declared rebels, but had furnished them with arms, and was ready in conjunction with them, to invade the ecclesiastical state in a hostile manner ; that such conduct in a vassal was to be deemed treason against his liege lord, the punishment of which was the forfeiture of his fief. Upon this, the consistorial advocate requested the pope to take cognizance of the cause, and to appoint a day for hearing of it, when he would make good every article of the charge, and expect trom his jus- tice that sentence which the heinousness of Philip's crimps mpritP'l. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 4bi Paul, whose pride was highly flattered with the idea ot trying and passing judgment on so great a king, assented to his request [July 27], and as if it had been no less easy to execute than to pronounce such a sentence, declared that he would consult with the cardinals concerning the formali- ties requisite in conducting the trial.* But while Paul allowed his pride and resentment to drive him on with such headlong impetuosity, Philip discovered an amazing moderation on his part. He had been taught by the Spanish ecclesiastics, who had the charge of his education, a profound veneration for the holy see. This sentiment, which had been early infused, grew up with him as he advanced in years, and took full possession of his mind, which was naturally thought- ful, serious, and prone to superstition. When he foresaw a rupture with the pope approaching, he had such violent scruples with respect to the lawfulness of taking arms against the vicegerent of Christ, and the com- mon father of all Christians, that he consulted some Spanish divines upon that point. They, with the usual dexterity of casuists in accommodating their responses to the circumstances of those who apply to them for direc- tion, assured him that, after employing prayers and remonstrances in order to bring the pope to reason, he had full right, both by the laws of nature and of Christianity, not only to defend himself when attacked, but to begin hostilities, if that were judged the most proper expedient for preventing the effects of Paul's violence and injustice. Philip, nevertheless, continued to deliberate and delay, considering it as a most cruel misfortune, that hi^ administration should open with an attack on a person, whose sacred func- tion and character he so highly respected.! At last the duke of Alva, who, in compliance with his master's scruples, had continued to negotiate long after he should have begun to act, finding Paul inexorable, and that every overture of peace, and every appearance of hesitation on his part, increased the pontiff's natural arrogance, took the field [Sept. 5] and entered the ecclesiastical territories. His army did not exceed twelve thousand men, but it was composed of veteran soldiers, and commanded chiefly by those Roman barons, whom Paul's violence had driven into exile. The valour of the troops, together with the ani- mosity of their leaders, who fought in their own quarrel, and to recover their own estates, supplied the want of numbers. As none of the French forces were yet arrived, Alva soon became master of the Campagna Ro- mana ; some cities being surrendered through the cowardice of the garri- sons, which consisted of raw soldiers, ill disciplined, and worse command- ed ; the gates of others being opened by the inhabitants, who were eager to receive back their ancient masters. Alva, that he might not be taxed with impiety in seizing the patrimony of the church, took possession of the towns which capitulated, in the name of the college of cardinals, to which, or to the pope that should be chosen to succeed Paul, he declared that he would immediately restore them. The rapid progress of the Spaniards, whose light troops made excursions even to the gates of Rome, filled that city with consternation. Paul, though inflexible and undaunted himself, was obliged to give way so far to the fears and solicitations of the cardinals, as to send deputies to Alva in order to propose a cessation of arms. The pope yielded the more readily, as he was sensible of a double advantage Avhich might be derived from obtaining that point. It would deliver the inhabitants of Rome from their present terror, and would afford time for the arrival of the succours which he expected from France. Nor was Alva unwilling to close with the over- ture, both as he knew how desirous his master was to terminate a war. which he had undertaken with reluctancet and as his army was so much weakened by garrisoning the great number of towns which he had reduced. * Pallav. Iil>. xiii. i"i | Ferrer Hist de Espognc, ix.373. Herrer3,i. 308; 462 THE KEJGiN OF THE [Book XII. that it was hardly in a condition to keep the field without fresh recruits. A truce was accordingly concluded [Nov. 19], first for ten, and afterwards for forty days, during which, various schemes of peace were proposed, and perpetual negotiations were carried on, but with no sincerity on the part of the pope. The return of his nephew the cardinal to Rome, the receipt of a considerable sum remitted by the king of France, the arrival of one body of French troops, together with the expectation of others which had begun their march, rendered him more arrogant than ever, and banished all thoughts from his mind, but those of war and revenge.* BOOK XII. While these operations or intrigues kept the pope and Philip busy and attentive, the emperor disentangled himself finally from all the affairs of this world, and set out for the place of his retreat. He had hitherto retained the Imperial dignity, not from any unwillingness to relinquish it, for, after having resigned the real and extensive authority that he enjoyed in his hereditary dominions, to part with the limited and often ideal juris- diction which belongs to an elective crown, was no great sacrifice. His sole motive for delay was to gain a few months, for making one trial more in order to accomplish his favourite scheme in behalf of his son. At the very time Charles seemed to be most sensible of the vanity of worldly grandeur, and when he appeared to be quitting it not only with indiffer- ence, but with contempt, the vast schemes of ambition, which had so long occupied and engrossed his mind, still kept possession of it. He could not think of leaving his son in a rank inferior to that which he himself had held among the princes of Europe. As he had, some years before, made a fruitless attempt to secure the Imperial crown to Philip, that by uniting it to the kingdoms of Spain, and the dominions of the house of Burgundy, he might put it in his power to prosecute, with a better prospect of suc- cess, those great plans, which his own infirmities had obliged him to aban- don, he was still unwilling to relinquish this flattering project as chimerical or unattainable. Notwithstanding the repulse which he had formerly met with from his brother Ferdinand, he renewed his solicitations with fresh importunity ; and, during the summer, had tried every art, and employed every argu- ment, which be thought could induce him to quit the Imperial throne to Philip, and to accept of the investiture of some province, either in Italy, or in the Low-Countries, as an equivalent.! But Ferdinand, who was so firm and inflexible with regard to this point, that he had paid no regard to the solicitations of the emperor, even when they were enforced with all the weight of authority which accompanies supreme power, received the overture that now came from him in the situation to which he had descended, with greater indifference, and would hardly deign to listen to it. Charles, ashamed of his own credulity in having imagined that he might accomplish that now, which he attempted formerly without success, desisted finally from his scheme. He then resigned the government of the empire, and having transferred all his claims of obedience and allegiance from the Germanic body, to his brother the king of the Romans, he executed a deed * Pallav. lib. xiii. 177. Thuan. lib. xvii. 58?. Mem. deRibier ii 664- 1 Ambassacle= fles NaaMJe^tom. v W' EMPEROR CHARLES V. 463 to that effect [Aug. 27], with all the formalities requisite in such an impor- tant transaction. The instrument of resignation he committed to William prince of Orange, and empowered him to lay it before the college ot electors.* Nothing now remained to detain Charles from that retreat for which he languished. The preparations for his voyage having been made for some time, he set out for Zuitburg in Zealand, where the fleet which was to convoy him had orders to assemble. In his way thither he passed through Ghent, and after stopping there a few days, to indulge that tender and pleasing melancholy, which arises in the mind of every man in the decline of life, on visiting the place of his nativity, and viewing the scenes and objects familiar to him in his early youth, he pursued his journey, accom- panied by his son Philip, his daughter the archdutchess, his sisters the dowager queens of France and Hungary, Maximilian his son-in-law, and a numerous retinue of the Flemish nobility. Before he went on board, he dis- missed them, with marks of his attention or regard, and taking leave of Philip with all the tenderness of a father who embraced his son for the last time, he set sail on the seventeenth of September, under convoy of a large fleet of Spanish, Flemish, and English ships. He declined a pressing- invitation from the queen of England, to land in some part of her dominions in order to refresh himself, and that she might have the comfort of seeing him once more. " It cannot surely," said he, " be agreeable to a queen to receive a visit from a father-in-law, who is now nothing more than a private gentleman." His voyage was prosperous, and he arrived at Laredo in Biscay on the eleventh day after he left Zealand. As soon as he landed, he fell prostrate on the ground ; and considering himself now as dead to the world, he kissed the earth, and said, " Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked I now return to thee, thou common mother of mankind." From Laredo he pursued his journey to Burgos, carried sometimes in a chair, and some- times in a horse litter, suffering exquisite pain at every step, and advancing with the greatest difficulty. Some of the Spanish nobility repaired to Burgos, in order to pay court to him, but they were so few in number, and their attendance was so negligent, that Charles observed it, and felt, for the first time, that he was no longer a monarch. Accustomed from his early youth to the dutiful and officious respect with which those who pos- sess sovereign power are. attended, he had received it with the credulity common to princes, and was sensibly mortified, when he now discovered, that he had been indebted to his rank and power for much of that obse- quious regard which he had fondly thought was paid to his personal qualities. But though he might have soon learned to view with unconcern the levity of his subjects, or to have despised their neglect, he was more deeply afflicted with the ingratitude of his son, who, forgetting already how much he owed to his father's bounty, obliged him to remain some weeks at Burgos, before he paid him the first moiety of that small pension, which was all that he had reserved of so many kingdoms. As without this sum, Charles could not dismiss his domestics with such rewards as their services merited or his generosity had destined for them, he could not help express- ing both surprise and dissatisfaction.! At last the money was paid, and Charles having dismissed a great number of his domestics, whose attend- ance he thought would be superfluous or cumbersome in his retirement, he proceeded to Valladolid. There he took a last and tender leave of his two sisters, whom he would not permit to accompany him to his solitude, though they requested him with tears, not only that they might have the consolation of contributing by their attendance and care to mitigate or to soothe his sufferings, but that they might reap instruction and benefit by * Oo! Carte HI. xn. 468 THE REIGN OF THE [Book Xlf. such a formidable army. A few days must have put the duke of Savoy in possession of the town, if the admiral de Coligny, who thought it con- cerned his honour to attempt saving a place of such importance to his country, and which lay within his jurisdiction as governor of Picardy, had not taken the gallant resolution of throwing himself into it, with such a body of men as he could collect on a sudden. This resolution he executed with great intrepidity, and, if the nature of the enterprise be considered, with no contemptible success ; for though one half of his small body of troops were cut off, he, with the other, broke through the enemy, and entered the town. The unexpected arrival of an officer of such high rank and reputation, and who had exposed himself to such danger in order to join them, inspired the desponding garrison with courage. Every thing that the admiral's great skill and experience in the art of war could sug- gest, for annoying the enemy, or defending the town, was attempted : and the citizens, as well as the garrison, seconding his zeal with equal ardour, seemed to be determined that they would hold out to the last, and -sacri- fice themselves in order to save their country.* The duke of Savoy, whom the English, under the earl of Pembroke, joined about this time, pushed on the siege with the greatest vigour. An army so numerous, and so well supplied with every thing requisite, carried on its approaches with great advantage against a garrison which was still so feeble that it durst seldom venture to disturb or retard the enemy's ope- rations by sallies. The admiral, sensible of the approaching danger, and unable to avert it, acquainted his uncle the constable Montmorency, who had the command of the French army, with his situation, and pointed out to him a method by which he might throw relief into the town. The con- stable solicitous to save a town, the loss of which would open a passage for the enemy into the heart of France ; and eager to extricate his nephew out of that perilous situation, in which zeal for the public had engaged him ; resolved, though aware of the danger, to attempt what he desired. With this view, he marched from La Fere towards St. Quintin at the head of his army, which was not by ojie half so numerous as that of the enemy, and having given the command of a body of chosen men to Coligny's brother Dandelot, who was colonel-general of the French infantry, he ordered him to force his way into the town by that avenue which the admiral had re- presented as most practicable, while he himself, with the main army, would give the alarm to the enemy's camp on the opposite side, and endeavour to draw all their attention towards that quarter. Dandelot executed his orders with greater intrepidity than conduct. [Aug. 10.] He rushed on with such headlong impetuosity, that, though it broke the first body of the enemy which stood in their way, it threw his own soldiers into the utmost confusion ; and as they were attacked in that situation by fresh troops which closed in upon them on every side, the greater part of them were cut in pieces, Dandelot with about five hundred of the most adventurous and most fortunate, making good his entrance into the town. Meanwhile the constable, in executing his part of the plan, advanced so near the camp of the besiegers, as rendered it impossible to retreat with safety in the face of an enemy so much superior in number. The duke of Savoy instantly perceived Montmorency's error, and prepared, with the presence of mind and abilities of a great general, to avail himself of it. He drew up his army in order of battle, with the greatest expedition, and watching the moment when the French began to file off towards La Fere, he detached all his cavalry, under the command of the count of Egmont. to fall on their rear, while he himself, at the head of his infantry, advanced to support him. The French at first retired in perfect order, and with a good countenance ; but when they saw Egmont draw near with his formi- * Thnau. lib. xlx. 647 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 469 dable body of cavalry, the shock of which they were conscious that they could not withstand, the prospect of imminent danger, added to distrust ot their general, whose imprudence every soldier now perceived, struck them with general consternation. They began insensibly to quicken their pace, and those in the rear pressed so violently on such as were before them, that in a short time their march resembled a flight rather than a retreat. Eginont, observing their confusion, charged them with the greatest tury, and in a moment all their men at arms, the pride and strength of the French troops in that age, gave way and fled with precipitation. The infantry, however, whom the constable, by his presence and authority, kept to their colours, still continued to retreat in good order, until the enemy brought some pieces of cannon to bear upon their centre, which threw them into such confusion, that the Flemish cavalry, renewing their attack, >roke in, and the rout became universal. About four thousand ot the French fell in the field, and among these the duke of Anguien, a prince of the blood, together with six hundred gentlemen. The constable, as soon as he perceived the fortune of the day to be irretrievable, rushed into the thickest of the enemy, with a resolution not to survive the calamity which his ill conduct had brought upon his country ; but having received a dangerous wound, and being wasted with the loss of blood, he was sur- rounded by some Flemish officers, to whom he was known, who protected him from the violence of the soldiers, and obliged him to surrender. Besides the constable, the dukes of Montpensier and Longueville, the marechal St. Andre, many officers of distinction, three hundred gentlemen, and near four thousand private soldiers, were taken prisoners. All the colours belonging to the infantry, all the ammunition, and all the cannon, two pieces excepted, fell into the enemy's hands. The victorious army did not lose above fourscore men.* This battle, no less fatal to France than the ancient victories of Crecjr and Agincourt, gained by the English on the same frontier, bore a near resem- blance to those disastrous events in the suddenness of the rout ; in the ill- conduct of the commander in chief; in the number of persons of note slain or taken ; and in the small loss sustained by the enemy. It filled France with equal consternation. Many inhabitants of Pans, with the same precipitancy and trepidation as if the enemy had been already at their gates, quitted the city and retired into the interior provinces. The king, by his presence and exhortations, endeavoured to console and to animate such as remaine 1, and applying himself with the greatest diligence to repair the ruinous fortifications of the city, prepared to defend it against the attack which he instantly expected. But happily for France, Philip's caution, together with the intrepid firmness of the admiral de Coligny, not only saved the capital from the danger to which it was exposed, but gained the nation a short interval, during which the people recovered from the terror and dejection occasioned by a blow no less severe than unex- pected, and Henry had leisure to take measures for the public security, with the spirit which became the sovereign of a powerful and martial people. Philip, immediately after the battle, visited the camp at St. Quintin, where he was received with all the exultation of military triumph ; and such were his transports of joy on account of an event which threw so much lustre on the beginning of his reign, that they softened his severe and haughty temper into an unusual flow of courtesy. When the duke of Savoy approached, and was kneeling to kiss his hands, he caught him in his arms, and embracing him with warmth, " It becomes me, says he, " rather to kiss your hands, which have gained me such a glorious and almost bloodless victory." • Thuan. 650. Hnnei Annal. Bmlmnt. ii. 693. H*Trera.392. 47j0 THE REIGS OF THE [Book XII. As soon as the rejoicings and congratulations on Philip's arrival were .over, a council of war was held, in order to determine how they might improve their victory to the best advantage. The duke of Savoy, seconded by several of the ablest officers formed under Charles V. insisted that they should immediately relinquish the siege of St. Quintin, the re- duction of which was now an object below their attention, and advance directly towards Paris ; that as there were neither troops to oppose, nor any town of strength to retard their march, they might reach that capital while under tlie full impression of the astonishment and terror occasioned by the rout of the army, and take possession of it without resistance. But Philip, less adventurous or more prudent than his generals, preferred a moderate but certain advantage, to an enterprise of greater splendour, but of more doubtful success. He represented to the council the infinite resources of a kingdom so powerful as France ; the great number as well as martial spirit of its nobles ; their attachment to their sovereign ; the manifold advantages with which they could carry on war in their own territories ; and the unavoidable destruction which must be the consequence of their penetrating too rashly into the enemy's country, before they had secured such a communication with their own as might render a retreat safe, if, upon any disastrous event, that measure should become necessary. On all these accounts, he advised the continuance of the siege, and his generals acquiesced the more readily in his opinion, as they made no doubt of being masters of the town in a few days, a loss of time of so little con- sequence in the execution of their plan, that they might easily repair it by their subsequent activity.* The weakness of the fortifications, and the small number of the garrison, which could no longer hope either for reinforcement or relief, seemed to authorize this calculation of Philip's generals. But, in making it, they did not attend sufficiently to the character of admiral de Coligny, who com- manded in the town. A courage undismayed, and tranquil amidst the greatest dangers, an invention fruitful in resources, a genius which roused and seemed to acquire new force upon every disaster, a talent of governing the minds of men, together with a capacity of maintaining his ascendant over them even under circumstances the most adverse and distressful, were qualities which Coligny possessed in a degree superior to any general of that age. These qualities were peculiarly adapted to the station in which he was now placed ; and as he knew the infinite importance to his country of every hour which he could gain at this juncture, he exerted himself to the utmost in contriving how to protract the siege, and to detain the enemy from attempting any enterprise more dangerous to France. Such were the {>erseverance and skill with which he conducted the defence, and such the brtitude as well as patience with which he animated the garrison, that though the Spaniards, the Flemings, and the English, carried on the attack with all the ardour which national emulation inspires, he held out the town seventeen days. He was taken prisoner at last [Aug. 27], on the breach, oyerpowered by the superior number of the enemy. Henry availed himself, with the utmost activity, of the interval which the admiral's well-timed obstinacy had afforded him. He appointed offi- cers to collect the scattered remains of the constable's army ; he issued orders for levying soldiers in every part of the kingdom ; he commanded the ban and arriere ban of the frontier provinces instantly to take the field, and to join the duke of Nevers at Laon in Picardy ; he recalled the greater part of the veteran troops which served under the marechal Bris- sac in Piedmont ; he sent courier after courier to the duke of Guise, requir- ing him, together with all his army, to return instantly for the defence of their country ; he despatched one envoy to the grand seignior, to solicit the Betear Commsntar. de Reb. Gallic. 901. ' EMPEROR CHARLES V. 471 assistance of his fleet, and the loan of a sum of money ; he sent another into Scotland, to incite the Scots to invade the north of England, that, by drawing Mary's attention to that quarter, he might prevent ner from rein- forcing her troops which served under Philip. These efforts of the king were warmly seconded by the zeal of his subjects. The city of Paris granted him a free gift of three hundred thousand livres. The other great towns imitated the liberality of the capital, and contributed in proportion. Several noblemen of distinction engaged, at their own expense, to garrison and defend the towns which lay most exposed to the enemy. Nor was the general concern for the public confined to corporate bodies alone, or to those in the higher sphere of life, but diffusing itself among persons of every rank, each individual seemed disposed to act with as much vigour as if the honour of the king, and the safety of the state, had depended solely on his single efforts.* Philip, who was no stranger either to the prudent measures taken by the French monarch for the security of his dominions, or to the spirit with which his subjects prepared to defend themselves, perceived, when it was too late, that he had lost an opportunity which could never be recalled, and that it was now vain to think of penetrating into the heart of France. He abandoned, therefore, without much reluctance, a scheme which was too bold and hazardous to be perfectly agreeable to his cautious temper ; and employed his army, during the remainder of the campaign, in the sieges of Ham and Catelet. Of these, he soon became master ; and the reduc» (ion of two such petty towns, together with the acquisition of St. Quintin, were all the advantages which he derived from one of the most decisive victories gained in that century. Philip himself, however, continued in high exultation on account of his success ; and as all his passions were tinged with superstition, he, in memory of the battle of St. Quintin, which had been fought on the day consecrated to St. Laurence, vowed to build a church, a monastery, and a palace, in honour of that saint and martyr. Before the expiration of the year, he laid the foundation of an edifice, in which all these were united, at the Escurial in the neighbourhood of Madrid ; and the same principle which dictated the vow, directed the building. For the plan of the work was so formed as to resemble a grid- iron, which, according to the legendary tale, had been the instrument of St. Laurence's martyrdom. Notwithstanding the great and expensive schemes in which his restless ambition involved him, Philip continued the building with such perseverance for twenty-two years, and reserved such large sums for this monument of his devotion and vanity, that the monarchs of Spain are indebted to him for a royal residence, which, though not the most elegant, is certainly the most sumptuous and magnificent of any in Europe.! The first account of that fatal blow which the French had received at St. Quintin was carried to Rome by the courier whom Henry had sent to recall the duke of Guise. As Paul, even with the assistance of his French auxiliaries, had hardly been able to check the progress of the Spanish arms, he foresaw that, as soon as he was deprived of their protection, his territories must be overrun in a moment. He remonstrated, therefore, with the greatest violence against the departure of the French army, re- proaching the duke of Guise for his ill conduct, which had brought him into such an unhappy situation ; and complaining of the king for deserting him so ungenerously under such circumstances. The duke of Guise's orders, however, were peremptory. Paul, inflexible as he was, found it necessary to accommodate his conduct to the exigency of his affairs, and to employ the mediation of the Venetians, and of Cosmo di Medici, in order to obtain peace. Philip, who had been forced unwillingly to a rup • M»>m. <\p Rifoier. ii. 701. 703. > Colmppnr Annnlw rl'Eepajne, torn. ii. n. 190 472 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XII. ture with the pope, and who, even while success crowned his arms, doubted so much the justice of his own cause, that he had made frequent overtures of pacification, listened eagerly to the first proposals of this nature from Paul, and discovered such moderation in his demands, as could hardly have been expected from a prince elated with victory. The duke of Alva on the part of Philip, and the cardinal Caraffa in the name of his uncle, met at Cavi, and both being equally disposed to peace, they, after a short conference, terminated the war by a treaty on the fol- lowing terms: That Paul should renounce his league with France, and maintain for the future such a neutrality as became the common father of Christendom ; That Philip should instantly restore all the towns of the ecclesiastical territory of which he had taken possession ; That the claims of the Caraffas to the dutchy of Paliano, and other demesnes of theColon- nas, should be referred to the decision of the republic of Venice ; That the duke of Alva should repair in person to Rome, and after asking par- don of Paul in his own name, and in that of his master, for having invaded the patrimony of the church, should receive the pope's absolution from that crime. Thus Paul, through Philip's scrupulous timidity, finished an unprosperous war without any detriment to the papal see. The conqueror appeared humble, and acknowledged his error; while he who had been vanquished retain d his usual haughtiness, and was treated with every mark of superiority.* The duke of Alva, in terms of the treaty, repaired to Rome, and, in the posture of a supplicant, kissed the feet, and implored the forgiveness of that very person whom his arms had reduced to the last extremity. Such was the superstitious veneration of the Spaniards for the papal character, that Alva, though perhaps the proudest man of the age, and accustomed from his infancy to a familiar intercourse with princes, acknowledged that when he approached the pope, he was so much over- awed, that liis voice failed, and his presence of mind forsook him.t But though this war, which at its commencement threatened mighty revolutions, was brought to an end without occasioning any alteration in those states which were its immediate object, it had produced during its progress effects of considerable consequence in other parts of Italy. As Philip was extremely solicitous to terminate his quarrel with Paul as speedily as possible, he was willing to make any sacrifice in order to gain those princes, who, by joining their troops to the papal and French army, might have prolonged the war. With this view, he entered into a nego- tiation with Octavio Farnese, duke of Parma, and in order to seduce him from his alliance with France, he restored to him the city of Placentia, with the territory depending on it, which Charles V. had seized in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-seven, had kept from that time in his possession, and had transmitted, together with his other dominions, to Philip. This step made such a discovery of Philip's character and views to Cosmo di Medici, the most sagacious as well as provident of all the Italian princes, that he conceived hopes of accomplishing his favourite scheme of adding Sienna and its territories to his dominions in Tuscany. As his suc- cess in this attempt depended entirely on the delicacy ot address with which it should be conducted, he employed all the refinements of policy in the negotiation which he set on foot tor this purpose. He began with soliciting Philip, whose treasury he knew to be entirely drained by the expense of the war, to repajr the great sums which he had advanced to the emperor during the siege of Sienna. When Philip endeavoured to elude a demand which he was unable to satisfy, Cosmo affected to be ex- tremely disquieted, and making no secret 01 his disgust, instructed his * I'iillav. lib. xiii. 183. P. Paul, 380. Herrera. vol. i. 310. f Pallav. lib. xiii. 185. Sum- TWBtti Istorm de Napoli, iv. 28R. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 473 ambassador at Rome to open a negotiation with the pope which seemed to be the effect of it. The ambassador executed his commission with such dexterity, that Paul, imagining Cosmo to be entirely alienated from the Spanish interest, proposed to him an alliance with France which should be cemented by the marriage of his eldest son to one of Henry's daughters. Cosmo received the overture with such apparent satisfaction, and with so many professions of gratitude for the high honour of which he had the prospect, that not only the pope's ministers, but the French envoy at Rome, talked confidently, and with little reserve, of the accession of that import- ant ally, as a matter certain and decided. The account of this was quickly- carried to Philip ; and Cosmo, who foresaw how much it would alarm him, had despatched his nephew Ludovico de Toledo into the Netherlands, that he might be at hand to observe and take advantage of his consterna- tion, before the first impression which it made should in any degree abate. Cosmo was extremely lortunate in the choice of the instrument whom he employed. Toledo wailed, with patience, until he discovered with cer- tainty, that Philip had received such intelligence of his uncle's negotia- tions at Rome, as must have rilled his suspicious mind with fear and jealousy ; and then craving an audience, he required payment of the money which had been borrowed by die emperor, in the most earnest and peremp- tory terms. In urging that point, he artfully threw out several dark hints and ambiguous declarations, concerning the extremities to which Cosmo might be driven by a refusal of this just demand, as well as by other grievances of which he had good reason to complain. Philip, astonished at an address in such a strain from a prince so far his inferior as the duke of Tuscany, and comparing what he now heard with the information which he had received from Italy, immediately concluded that Cosmo had ventured to assume (his bold and unusual tone on the prospect of his union with France. In order to preveni. the pope and Henry from acquiring an ally, who, by his abilities, as well as the situation of his dominions, would have added both reputation and strength to their confederacy, he offered to grant Cosmo the investiture of Sienna, if he would consent to accept of it as an equivalent for the sums due to him, and engage to furnish a body of troops towards the defence of Philip's territories in Italy, against any power who should attack them. As soon as Cosmo had brought Philip to make this concession, which was the object of all his artifices and intrigues, he did not protract the negotiation by any unnecessary delay, or any excess of refinement, but closed eagerly with the proposal, and Philip, in spite of the remonstrances of his ablest counsellors, signed a treaty with him to that effect.* As no prince was ever more tenacious of his rights than Philip, or less willing to relinquish any territory which he possessed, by what tenure soever he held it, these unusual concessions to the dukes of Parma and Tuscany, by which he wantonly gave up countries, in acquiring or defending which his father had employed many years, and wasted much blood and treasure, cannot be accounted for from any motive, but his superstitious desire of extricating himself out of the war which he had been forced to wage against the pope. By these treaties, however, the balance of power among the Italian states was poised with greater equality, and rendered less variable than it had been since it received the first violent shock from the invasion of Charles VIII. of France. From this period Italy ceased to be the great theatre, on which the monarchs ol Spain, France, and Germany, contended for power or for fame. Their dissensions and hostilities, though as frequent and violent as ever, being excited by new objects, stained other regions of Europe with blood, and rendered them miserable, in their turn, by the devastations of war. * Thuan. lib. xviii. 624. Herrera. i. 863. 375. Pallav. lib. xiii. J80. Vot. II.— 60 474 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XI f. The duke of Guise left Rome on the same day [Sept. 29] that his adver sary the duke of Alva made his humiliating submission to the pope. He was received in France as the guardian angel of the kingdom. His late ill suc- cess in Italy seemed to be forgotten, while his former services, particularly bis defence of Metz, were recounted with exaggerated praise ; and he was welcomed in every city through which he passed, as the restorer of public security, who, after having set bounds by his conduct and valour to the vie torious arms of Charles V., returned now, at the call of his country, to check the formidable progress of Philip's power. The reception which he met with from Henry was no less cordial and honourable. New titles were invented, and new dignities created, in order to distinguish him. He was appointed lieutenant-general in chief both within and without the kingdom, with a jurisdiction almost unlimited, and hardly inferior to that which was possessed by the king himself. Thus, through the singular felicity which attended the princes of Lorrain, the miscarriage of their own schemes con- tributed to aggrandize them. The calamities of his country and the ill conduct of his rival the constable, exalted the duke of Guise to a height of dignity and power, which he could not have expected to attain by the most fortunate and most complete success of his own ambitious projects. The duke of Guise, eager to perform something suitable to the high expectations of his countrymen, and that he might justify the extraordinary confidence which the king had reposed in him, ordered all the troops, which could be got together, to assemble at Compeigne. Though the winter was well advanced, and had set in with extreme severity, he placed himself at their head and took the field. By Henry's activity and the zeal of his sub- jects, so many soldiers had been raised in the kingdom, and such consider- able reinforcements had been drawn from Germany and Switzerland, as formed an army respectable even in the eyes of a victorious enemy. Philip, alarmed at seeing it put in motion at such an uncommon season, began to tremble for his new conquests, particularly St. Quintin, the fortifications of which were hitherto but imperfectly repaired. But the duke of Guise meditated a more important enterprise ; and after amusing the enemy with threatening successively different towns on the frontiers of Flanders, he turned suddenly to the left, and invested Calais with his whole army [Jan. 1,1558]. Calais had been taken by the Eng- lish under Edward III. and was the fruit of that monarch's glorious victory at Crecy. Being the only place that they retained of their ancient and extensive territories in France, and which opened to them, at all times, an easy and secure passage into the heart of that kingdom, their keeping pos- session of it soothed the pride of the one nation as much as it mortified the vanity of the other. Its situation was naturally so strong, and its fortifica- tions deemed so impregnable, that no monarch of France, how adventurous soever, had been bold enough to attack it. Even when the domestic strength of England was broken and exhausted by the bloody wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, and its attention entirely diverted from foreign objects, Calais had remained undisturbed and unthreatened. Mary and her council, composed chiefly of ecclesiastics, unacquainted with mili- tary affairs, and whose whole attention was turned towards extirpating heresy out of the kingdom, had not only neglected to take any precautions for the safety of this important place, but seemed to think that the reputa- tion of its strength was alone sufficient for its security. Full of this opinion, they ventured, even after the declaration of war, to continue a practice which the low state of the queen's finances had introduced in times of peace. As the country adjacent to Calais was overflowed during the winter, and the marshes around it became impassable, except by one avenue, which the forts of St. Agatha and Newnham-bridge commanded, it had been the custom of the English to dismiss the greater part of the garrison towards the end of autumn, and to replace it in the spring. In vain did Lord Wentworth. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 475 the governor of Calais, remonstrate against this ill-timed parsimony, and represent the possibility of his being attacked suddenly, while he had not troops sufficient to man the works. The privy-council treated these remon- strances with scorn, as if they had flowed from the timidity or the rapa- ciousness of the governor ; and some of them, with that confidence which is the companion of ignorance, boasted that they would defend Calais with their white rods against any enemy who should approach it during winter.* In vain did Philip, who had passed through Calais as he returned from England to the Netherlands, warn the queen of the danger to which it was exposed ; and acquainting her with what was necessary for its security, in vain did he offer to reinforce the garrison during winter with a detachment of his own troops. Mary's counsellors, though obsequious to her in all points wherein religion was concerned, distrusted, as much as the rest ot their countrymen, every proposition that came from her husband ; and sus- pecting this to be an artifice of Philip's in order to gain the command ot the town, they neglected his intelligence, declined his offer, and left Calais with less than a fourth part of the garrison requisite for its defence. His knowledge of this encouraged the duke of Guise to venture on an enterprise, that surprised his own countrymen no less than his enemies. As he knew that its success depended on conducting his operations with such rapidity as would afford the English no time for throwing relief into the town by sea, and prevent Philip from giving him any interruption by land, he pushed the attack with a degree of vigour little known in carrying on sieges during that age. He drove the English from fort St. Agatha, at the first assault. He obliged them to abandon the fort of Newnham-bridge after defending it only three days. He took the castle which commanded the harbour by storm ; and on the eighth day after he appeared before Calais, compelled the governor to surrender, as his feeble garrison, which did not exceed five hundred men, was worn out with the fatigue of sustain- ing so many attacks, and defending such extensive works. The duke of Guise, without allowing the English time to recover from the consternation occasioned by this blow, immediately invested Guisnes, the garrison of which, though more numerous, defended itself with less vigour, and after standing one brisk assault, gave up the town. The castle ot Hames was abandoned by the troops posted there, without waiting the approach of the enemy. Thus in a few days, during the depth of winter, and at a time when the fatal battle of St. Quintin had so depressed the sanguine spirit of the French, that their utmost aim was to protect their own country, without dreaming of making conquests on the enemy, the enterprising valour of one man drove the English out of Calais, after they had held it two hundred and ten years, and deprived them of every foot of land in a kingdom, where their domi- nions had been once very extensive. This exploit, at the same time that it gave a hitch idea of the power and resources of France to all Europe, set the duke of Guise, in the opinion of his countrymen, far above all the generals of the age. They celebrated his conquests with immoderate transports of joy; while the English gave vent to all the passions which animate a high- spirited people, when any great national calamity is manifestly owing to the ill conduct of their rulers. Mary and her ministers, formerly odious, were now contemptible in their eyes. All the terrors of her severe and arbitrary administration could not restrain them from uttering execrations and threats against those, who, having wantonly involved the nation in a quarrel wherein it was noways interested, had by their negligence or incapacity brought irreparable distress on their country, and lost the most valuable possession belonging to the English crown. The kins; of France imitated the conduct of its former conqueror. Edward * PartP. iii. 345. 476 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XII. HI., with regard to Calais. He commanded all the English inhabitants to quit the town, and giving their houses to his own subjects, whom he allured to settle there by granting them various immunities, he left a numerous gar- rison, under an experienced governor, for their defence. After this, his victorious army was conducted into quarters of refreshment, and the usual inaction of winter returned. During these various operations, Ferdinand assembled the college of electors at Frankfort [Feb. 24], in order to lay before them the instrument whereby Charles V. had resigned the Imperial crown, and transferred it to him. This he had hitherto delayed on account of some difficulties which had occurred concerning the formalities requisite in supplying a vacancy occasioned by an event, to which there was no parallel in the annals of the empire. These being at length adjusted, the prince of Orange executed the commission with which he had been intrusted by Charles ; the electors accepted of his resignation ; declared Ferdinand his lawful successor ; and put him in possession of all the ensigns of the Imperial dignity. But when the new emperor sent Gusman his chancellor to acquaint the pope with this transaction, to testify his reverence towards the holy see, and to signify that, according to form, he would soon despatch an ambas- sador extraordinary to treat with his holiness concerning his coronation; Paul, whom neither experience nor disappointments could teach to bring down his lofty ideas of the papal prerogative to such a moderate standard as suited the genius of the times, rei'used to admit the envoy into his pre- sence, and declared all the proceedings at Frankfort irregular and invalid. He contended that the pope, as the vicegerent of Christ, was intrusted with the keys both of spiritual and of civil government ; that from him the Impe- rial jurisdiction was derived ; that though his predecessors had authorized the electors to choose an emperor whom the holy see confirmed, this privi- lege was confined to those cases when a vacancy was occasioned by death ; that the instrument of Charles's resignation had been presented in an im- proper court, as it belonged to the pope alone to reject or to accept of it, and to nominate a person to fill the Imperial throne ; that setting aside all these objections, Ferdinantt's election laboured under two defects which alone were sufficient to render it void, for the protestant electors had been admitted to vote, though, by their apostacy from the catholic faith, they had forfeited that and every other privilege of the electoral office ; and terdi- nand, by ratifying the concessions of several diets, in favour of heretics, had rendered himself unworthy of the Imperial dignity, which was instituted for the protection, not for the destruction of the church. But after thunder- ing out these extravagant maxims, he added, with an appearance of con- descension, that if Ferdinand would renounce all title to the Imperial crown, founded on the election at Frankfort, make professions of repentance for his past conduct, and supplicate him, with due humility, to confirm Charles's resignation, as well as his own assumption to the empire, he might expect every mark of favour from his paternal clemency and goodness. Gusman, though he had foreseen considerable difficulties in his negotiation with the pope, little expected that he would have revived those antiquated and wild pretensions, which astonished him so much that he hardly knew in what tone he ought to reply. He prudently declined entering into any controversy concerning the nature or extent of the papal jurisdiction, and confined himself to the political considerations, which should determine the pope to recognise an emperor already in possession, he endeavoured to place them in such a light, as he imagined could scarcely fail to strike Paul, it he were not altogether blind to his own interest. Philip seconded Gusman's arguments with great earnestness, by an ambassador whom he sent to Rome on purpose, and besought the pope to desist from claims so unseasonable, as might not only irritate and alarm Ferdinand and the princes of the empire, but furnish the enemies of the holy see with a new reason EMPEROR CHARLES V. 477 for representing its jurisdiction as incompatible with the rights of princes, and subversive of all civil authority. But Paul, who deemed it a crime to attend to any consideration suggested by human prudence or policy, when bethought himself called upon to assert the prerogatives of the papal see, remained inflexible ; an 1 during his pontificate, Ferdinand was not acknow- ledged as emperor by the court of Rome.* While Henry was intent upon his preparations for the approaching cam- Eaign, he received accounts of the issue of his negotiations in Scotland, ong experience having at last taught the Scots the imprudence of involving their country in every quarrel between France and England, neither the solicitations of the French ambassador, nor the address and authority of the queen regent, could prevail on them to take arms against a kingdom with which they were at peace. On this occasion, the ardour of a martial nobility, and of a turbulent people was restrained by regard for the public interest and tranquillity, which in former deliberations of this kind had been seldom attended to by a nation always prone to rush into every new war. But though the Scots adhered with steadiness to their pacific system, they were extremely ready to gratify the French king in another particular which he had given in charge to his ambassador. The young queen of Scots had been affianced to the dauphin in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-eight, and having been educated since that time in the court of France, she had grown up to be the most amiable, and one of the most accomplished princesses of that age. Henry demanded the consent of her subjects to the celebration of the marriage, and a parlia- ment, which was held for that purpose, appointed eight commissioners to represent the whole body of the nation at that solemnity, with power to sign such deeds as might be requisite before it was concluded. In settling the articles of the marriage, the Scots took every precaution that prudence could dictate, in order to preserve the liberty and independence of their country ; while the French used every art to secure to the dauphin the con- duct of affairs during the queen's life, and the succession of the crown on the event of her demise. [April 14.] The marriage was celebrated with pomp suitable to the dignity of the parties, and the magnificence of a court at that time the most splendid in Europe. f Thus Henry, in the course of a few months, had the glory of recovering an important possession which had anciently belonged to the crown of France, and of adding to it the acquisition of a new kingdom. By this event, too, the duke of Guise acquired new consideration and importance ; the marriage of his niece to the apparent heir of the crown, raising him so far above the condition of other subjects, that the credit which he had gained by his great actions, seemed thereby to be rendered no less permanent than it was extensive. When the campaign opened soon after the dauphin's marriage, the duke of Guise was placed at the head of the army, with the same unlimited powers as formerly. Henry had received such liberal supplies from his subjects, that the troops under his command were both numerous and well appointed; while Philip, exhausted by the extraordinary efforts of the pro- ceding year, had been obliged to dismiss so miny of his forces during the winter, that he could not bring an army into the field capable of making head against the enemy. The duke ot Guise did not lose the favourable opportunity which his superiority afforded him. He invested Thionville in the dutchy of Luxemburg, one of the strongest towns on the frontier of the Netherlands, and of great importance to France by its neighbourhood to Metz ; and, notwithstanding the obstinate valour with which it was defended, he forced it to capitulate [June 22j after a sieareof three weeks. J But the success of this enterprise, which it was expected would lead to * Godleveus de Abdical. Car. V ap. Gold. I'olit. Imper. 39'2. Pallav. lib. xiii. 189. Ribier, ii. 746.759. f Keith's History of BcoUand, rs 73. Append. 13. Corps Diplorru v. 21. 1 Thuan. lib. xx. 690. m THE REIGN OF THE [Book XI J. other conquests, was more than counterbalanced by an event which hap- pened in another part of the Low-Countries. The marechal de Termes, governor of Calais, having penetrated into Flanders without opposition, invested Dunkirk with an army of fourteen thousand men, and took it by storm on the fifth day of the siege. Hence he advanced towards Nieu- port, which must have soon fallen into his hands, if the approach of the count of Egmont with a superior army had not made it prudent to retreat. The French troops were so much encumbered with the booty which they had got at Dunkirk, or by ravaging the open country, that they moved slowly ; and Egmont, who had left his heavy baggage and artillery behind him, marched wilh such rapidity, that he came up with them near Grave- lines, and attacked them with the utmost impetuosity. De Termes, who had the choice of the ground, having posted his troops fo advantage in the angle formed by the mouth of the river Aa and the sea, received him with great firmness. Victory remained for some time in suspense, the desperate valour of the French, who foresaw the unavoidable destruction that must follow upon a rout in an enemy'3 country, counterbalanced the superior number of the Flemings, when one of those accidents to which human pru- dence does not extend, decided the contest in favour of the latter. A squadron of English ships of war, which was cruising on the coast, being drawn by the noise of the firing towards the place of engagement, entered the river Aa,and turning its great guns against the right wing of the French, with such effect, as immediately broke that body, and spread terror and confusion through the whole army. The Flemings, to whom assistance, so unexpected, and so seasonable, gave fresh spirit, redoubled their efforts, that they might not lose the advantage which fortune had presented them, Of give the enemy time to recover from their consternation, and the rout of the French soon became universal. Near two thousand were killed on the spot ; a greater number fell by the hands of the peasants, who, in revenge tor the cruelty with which their country had been plundered, pursued the fugitives, and massacred them without mercy ; the rest were taken pri- soners, together with De Termes their general, and many officers of distinction.* This signal victory, for which the count of Egmont was afterwards 30 ill requited by Philip, obliged the duke of Guise to relinquish all other schemes, and to hasten towards the frontier of Picardy, that he might oppose the progress of the enemy in that province. This disaster, however, reflected new lustre on his reputation, and once more turned the eyes of his countrymen towards him, as the only general on whose arms victory always attended, and in whose conduct, as well as good fortune, they could con- fide in every danger. Henry reinforced the duke of Guise's army with so many troops drawn from the adjacent garrisons, that it soon amounted to forty thousand men. That of the enemy, after the j unction of Egmont with the duke of Savoy, was not inferior in number. They encamped at the distance of a few leagues from one another ; and each monarch having joined his respective army, it was expected, after the vicissitudes of good and bad success during this and the former campaign, that a decisive battle would at last determine, which of the rivals should take the ascendant for the future, and give law to Europe. But though both had it in their power, neither ot them discovered any inclination to bring the determina- tion of such an important point to depend upon the uncertain issue of a single battle. The fatal engagements at St. Quintin and Gravelines were too recent to be so soon forgotten, and the prospect of encountering the same troops, commanded by the same generals who had twice triumphed over his arms, inspired Henry with a degree of caution which was not common to him. Philip, of a genius averse to bold operations in war, naturally * Thtfan. lib. tX.BM. EMPEROR CHARLES V. « 479 leaned to cautious measures, and was not disposed to hazard any thing against a general so fortunate and successful as the duke of Guise. Both monarchs, as if by agreement, stood on the defensive, and fortifying their camps carefully, avoided every skirmish or rencounter that might bring on a general engagement. While the armies continued in this inaction, peace began to be men- tioned in each camp, and both Henry and Philip discovered an inclination to listen to any overture that tended to re-establish it. The kingdoms of France and Spain had been engaged during half a century in almost con- tinual wars, carried on at great expense, and productive of no considerable advantage to either. Exhausted by extraordinary and unceasing efforts, which far exceeded those to which the nations of Europe had been accus- tomed before the rivalship between Charles V. and Francis I., both nations longed so much for an interval of repose, in order to recruit their strength, that their sovereigns drew from them with difficulty the supplies necessary for carrying on hostilities. The private inclinations of both the kings concurred with those of their people. Philip was prompted to wish for peace by his fond desire of returning to Spain. Accustomed from his infancy to the climate and manners of that country, he was attached to it with such extreme predilection, that he never felt himself at ease in any other part of his dominions. But as he could not quit the Low-Countries, either with decency or safety, and venture on a voyage to Spain during the continuance of war, the prospect of a pacification which would put it in his power to execute his favourite scheme, was highly acceptable. Henry was no less desirous of being delivered from the burden and occu- pations of war, that he might have leisure to turn all his attention, and bend the whole force of his government, towards suppressing the opinions of the reformers, which were spreading with such rapidity in Paris and other great towns of France, that they began to grow formidable to the established church. Besides these public and avowed considerations, arising from the state of the two hostile kingdoms, or from the wishes of their respective monarchs, there was a secret intrigue carried on in the court of France, which contributed as much as either of the other, to hasten and to facilitate the negotiation of a peace. The constable Montmorency, during his cap- tivity, beheld the rapid success and growing favour of the duke of Guise with the envy natural to a rival. Every advantage gained by the princes of Lorrain he considered as a fresh wound to his own reputation, and he knew with what malevolent address it would be improved to diminish his credit with the king, and to augment that of the duke of Guise. These arts, he was afraid, might, by degrees, work on the easy and ductile mind of Henry, so as to efface all remains of his ancient affection towards him- self. But he could not discover any remedy for this, unless he were allowed to return home, that he might try whether by his presence he could defeat the artifices of his enemies, and revive those warm and tender sentiments which had long attached Henry to him, with a confidence so entire, as resembled rather the cordiality of private friendship, than the cold and selfish connection between a monarch and one of his courtiers. While Montmorency was forming schemes and wishes for his return to France with much anxiety of mind, but little hope of success, an unex- Eected incident prepared the way for it. The cardinal of Lorrain, who ad shared with his brother in the king's favour, and participated of the power which that conferred, did not bear prosperity with the same dis- cretion as the duke of Guise. Intoxicated with their good fortune, he forgot how much they had been indebted for their present elevation to their connexions with the dutcbess of Valentinois, and vainly ascribed all to the extraordinary merit of their family. This led him not only to neglect his benefactress, but to thwart her schemes, and to talk with s 480 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XIL sarcastic liberty of her character and person. That singular woman, who, if we may believe contemporary writers, retained the beauty and charms of youth at the age of threescore, and on whom it is certain that Henry still doated with all the fondness of love, felt this injury with sensibility, and set herself with eagerness to inflict the vengeance which it merited. As there was no method of supplanting the princes of Lorrain so effec- tually as by a coalition of interests with the constable, she proposed the marriage of her granddaughter with one of his sons, as the bond of their future union ; and Montmorency readily gave his consent to the match. Having thus cemented their alliance, the dutchess employed all her influ- ence with the king, in order to confirm his inclinations towards peace, and induce him to take the steps necessary for attaining it. She insinuated that any overture of that kind would come with great propriety from the constable, and if intrusted to the conduct of his prudence, could hardly fail of success. Henry, long accustomed to commit all affairs of importance to the management of the constable, and needing only this encouragement to return to his ancient habits, wrote to him immediately with his usual familiarity and affection, empowering him at the same time to take the first opportunity of sounding Philip and his ministers with regard to peace. Montmorency made his application to Philip by the most proper channel. He opened himself to the duke of Savoy, who, notwithstanding the high command to which he had been raised, and the military glory which he had acquired in the Spanish service, was weary of remaining in exile, and languished to return into his paternal dominions. As there was no prospect of his recovering possession of them by force of arms, he considered a defi- nitive treaty of peace between France and Spain as the only event by which he could hope to obtain restitution. Being no stranger to Philip's private wishes with regard to peace, he easily prevailed on him not only to discover a disposition on his part towards accommodation, but to permit Montmorency to return, on his parole, to France, that he might confirm his own sovereign in his pacific sentiments. Henry received the constable with the most flattering marks of regard ; absence, instead of having abated or extinguished the monarch's friendship, seemed to have given it new ardour. Montmorency, from the moment of his appearance in court, assumed, if possible, a higher place than ever in his affection, and a more perfect ascendant over his mind. The cardinal of Lorrain and the duke of Guise prudently gave way to a tide of favour too strong for them to oppose, and confining themselves to their proper departments, permitted, without any struggle, the constable and dutchess of Valentinois to direct public affairs at their pleasure. They soon prevailed on the kine: to nominate plenipotentiaries to treat of peace. Philip did the same. The abbey of Cercamp was fixed on as the place of congress ; and all military operations were immediately terminated by a suspension of arms. While these preliminary steps were taking towards a treaty which restored tranquillity to Europe, Charles V., whose ambition had so long disturbed it, ended his days in the monastery of St. Justus. When Charles entered this retreat, he formed such a plan of life for himself, as would have suited the condition of a private gentleman of a moderate fortune. His table was neat, but plain ; his domestics few ; his intercourse with them familiar ; all the cumbersome and ceremonious forms of attendance on his person were entirely abolished, as destructive of that social ease and tranquillity which he courted, in order to soothe the remainder of his days. As the mildness of the climate, together with his deliverance from the bur- dens and cares of government, procured him, at first, a considerable remis- sion from the acute pains with which he had been long tormented ; he enjoyed, perhaps, more complete satisfaction in this humble solitude, than all his grandeur had ever yielded him. The ambitious thoughts and EMPEROR CHARLES V. 481 projects which had so Ions: engrossed and disquieted him, were quite effaced from his mind ; far horn taking any part in the political trans- actions of the princes of Europe, he restrained his curiosity even from any inquiry concerning them ; and he seemed to view the husy scene which he had abandoned with all the contempt and indifference arising from hi? thorough experience of its vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflection of having disentangled himself from its cares. Other amusements and other objects now occupied him. Sometimes he cultivated the plants in his garden with his own hands ; sometimes he rode out to the neighbouring wood on a little horse, the only one that he kept, attended by a single servant on foot. When his infirmities confined him to his apartment, which often happened, and deprived him of these more active recreations, he either admitted a few gentlemen who resided near the monastery to visit him, and entertained them familiarly at his table : or he employed himself in studying mechanical principles, and in forming- curious works of mechanism, of which he had always been remarkably fond, and to which his genius was peculiarly turned. With this view he had engaged Turriano, one of the most ingenious artists of that age, to accompany him in his retreat. He laboured together with him in framing models of the most useful machines, as well as in making experiments with regard to their respective powers, and it was not seldom that the ideas of the monarch assisted or perfected the inventions of the artist. He relieved his mind, at intervals, with slighter and more fantastic works of mechanism, in fashioning puppets, which, by the structure of interna) springs, mimicked the gestures and actions of men, to the astonishment of the ignorant monks, who, beholding movements which they could not comprehend, sometimes distrusted their own senses, and sometimes sus- pected Charles and Turriano of being in compact with invisible powers. He was particularly curious with regard to the construction of clocks and watches ; and having found, after repeated trials, that he could not bring any two of them to go exactly alike, he reflected, it is said, with a mix- ture of surprise as well as regret, on his own folly, in having bestowed so much time and labour on the more vain attempt of bringing mankind to a precise uniformity of sentiment concerning the profound and mysterious doctrines of religion. But in what manner soever Charles disposed of the rest of his time, he constantly reserved a considerable portion of it for religious exercises. He regularly attended divine service in the chapel of the monastery, every morning and evening ; he took great pleasure in reading books of devotion, particularly the works of St. Augustin, and St. Bernard ; and conversed much with his confessor, and the prior of the monastery, on pious subjects. Thus did Charles pass the first year of his retreat, in a manner not unbe- coming a man perfectly disengaged from the affairs of the present life, and standing on the confines of a future world ; either in innocent amusements, which soothed his pains, and relieved a mind worn out with excessive application to business ; or in devout occupations, which he deemed neces- sary in preparing for another state. But about six months before his death, the gout, after a longer intermis- sion than usual, returned with a proportional increase of violence. His shattered constitution had not vigour enough remaining to withstand such a shock. It enfeebled his mind as much as his body, and from this period we hardly discern any traces of that sound and masculine understanding, which distinguished Charles among his contemporaries. An illiberal and timid superstition depressed his spirit. He had no relish for amusements of any kind. He endeavoured to conform, in his manner of living, to all the rigour of monastic austerity. He desired no other society than that of monks, and was almost continually employed with them in chanting the hymns of the Missal. As an expiation for his sins, he grave himself the Vol. II.— 61 482 THE REIGN OF T H E [Book XII. discipline in sccr*:t with such severity, that the whip of cords which he employed as the instrument of his punishment, was found after his decease tinged with his hlood. Nor was he satisfied with these acts of mortifica- tion, which, however severe, were not unexampled. The timorous and distrustful solicitude which always accompanies superstition, still continued to disquiet him, and depreciating all the devout exercises in which he had hitherto been engaged, prompted him to aim at something extraordinary, at some new and singular act of piety that would display his zeal, arid merit the favour of Heaven. The act on which he fixed was as wild and uncommon as any that superstition ever suggested to a weak and disor- dered fancy. He 1 solved to celebrate his own obsequies before his death. He ordered his tomb to be erected in tho chapel of the monastery. His domestics marched thither in funeral procession, with black tapers in their hands. He himself followed in his shroud. He was laid in his coffin with much solemnity. The service for the dead was chanted, and Charles joined in the prayers which were offered up for the rest of his soul, min- gling his tears with those which his attendants shed, as if they had been celebrating a real funeral. The ceremony closed with sprinkling holy water on the coffin in the usual form, and all the assistants retiring, the doors of the chapel were shut. Then Charles rose out of the coffin, and withdrew to his apartment, full of those awful sentiments which such a singular solemnity wa3 calculated to inspire. But either the fatiguing length of the ceremony, or the impression which this image of death left on his mind, affected him so much, that next day he was seized with a fever. His feeble frame could not long resist its violence, and he expired on the twenty-first of September, after a life of fifty-eight years, six months, and twenty-five days.* As Charles was the first prince of the age in rank and dignity, the part which he acted, whether we consider the greatness, the variety, or the suc- cess of his undertakings, was the most conspicuous. It is from an atten- tive observation of his conduct, not from the exaggerated praises of the Spanish historians, or the undistinguishing censure of the French, that a just idea of Charles's genius and abilities is to be collected. He possessed qualities so peculiar, that they strongly mark his character, and not only distinguish him from the princes who were his contemporaries, but account for that superiority over them which he so long maintained. In formins: his schemes, he was, by nature, as well as by habit, cautious and consider- ate. Born with talents which unfolded themselves slowly, and were late in attaining to maturity, he was accustomed to ponder every subject that demanded his consideration, with a careful and deliberate attention. He bent the whole force of his mind towards it, and dwelling upon it with a serious application, undiverted by pleasure, and hardly relaxed by any amusement, he revolved it, in silence, in his own breast. He then com- municated the matter to his ministers, and after hearing their opinions, took his resolution with a decisive firmness, which seldom follows such slow and seemingly hesitating consultations. Of consequence, Charles's measures, instead of resembling the desultory and irregular sallies of Henry VIII. or Francis I., had the appearance of a consistent system, in which all the parts were arranged, all the effects were foreseen, and even every acci- dent was provided for. His promptitude in execution was no less remark- able than his patience in deliberation. He did not discover greater saga- city in his choice of the measures which it is proper to pursue, than fer- tility of genius in finding out the means for rendering his pursuit of them successful. Though he had naturally so little of the martial turn, that during the most ardent and bustling period of life, he remained in thi * Strada de Bello Belg. lib. i. p. 11. Thuan. 723. Sandov. ii 609, &c. Miniann Conlin. Mari ?nn>. vol. iv. 210. Vera y Zuniga Vida d« Carlos, p. 111. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 4«3 cabinet inactive, yet when he chose at length to appear at the head of his armies, his mind was so formed for vigorous exertions in every direction, that he acquired such knowledge in the art of war, and such talents for command, as rendered him equal in reputation and success to the most able generals of the age. But Charles possessed, in the most eminent degree, the science which is of the greatest importance to a monarch, that of knowing men, and of adapting their talents to the various departments which he allotted to them. From the death of Chievres to the end of his reign, he employed no general in the field, no minister in the cabinet, no ambassador to a foreign court, no governor of a province, whose abilities were inadequate to the trust which he reposed in them. Though desti- tute of that bewitching affability of manners, which gained Francis the hearts of all who approached his person, he was no stranger to the virtues which secure fidelity and attachment. He placed unbounded confidence! in his generals ; he rewarded their services with munificence ; he neither envied their fame, nor discovered any jealousy of their power. Almost all the generals who conducted his armies, may be placed on a level with those illustrious personages who have attained the highest eminence of military glory; and his advantages over his rivals are to be ascribed so manifestly to the superior abilities of the commanders whom he set in opposition to them, that this might seem to detract, in some degree, from his own merit, if the talent of discovering, and steadiness in employing such instruments were not the most undoubted proofs of a capacity for government. There were, nevertheless, defects in his political character which must considerably abate the admiration due to his extraordinary talents. Charles's ambition was insatiable ; and though there seems to be no foun- dation for an opinion prevalent in his own age, that he had formed the chi- merical project of establishing a universal monarchy in Europe, it is cer- tain that his desire of being distinguished as a conqueror involved him in continual wars, which not only exhausted and oppressed his subjects, but left him little leisure for giving attention to the interior police and improve- ment of his kingdoms, the great objects of every prince who makes the happiness of his people the end of his government. Charles, at a very- early period of life, having added the Imperial crown to the kingdoms of Spain, and to the hereditary dominions of the houses of Austria and Bur- gundy, this opened to him such a vast field of enterprise, and engaged him in schemes so complicated as well as arduous, that feeling his power to be unequal to the execution of them, he had often recourse to low artifices., unbecoming his superior talents, and sometimes ventured on such devia- tions from integrity, as were dishonourable in a great prince. His insi- dious and fraudulent policy appeared more conspicuous, and was rendered more odious by a comparison with the open and undesigning character of his contemporaries Francis I. and Henry VIII. This difference, though occasioned chiefly by the diversity of their tempers, must be ascribed in some degree, to such an opposition in the principles of their political con- duct as affords some excuse for this defect in Charles's behaviour, though it cannot serve as a justification of it. Francis and Henry seldom acted but from the impulse of their passions, and rushed headlong towards the object in view. Charles's measures, being the result of cool reflection, were dis- posed into a regular system, and carried on upon a concerted plan. Per- sons who act in the former manner, naturally pursue the end in view, with- out assuming any disguise, or displaying much address. Such as hold the latter course, are apt, in forming, as well as in executing their designs, to employ such refinements as always lead to artifice in conduct, and often degenerate into deceit. The circumstances transmitted to us, with respect to Charles's private deportment and character, are fewer and less interesting, than might hav« 4b4 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XII, been expected from the great number of authors who have undertaken to write an account of his life. These are not the object of this history, which aims more at representing the great transactions of the reign of Charles V., and pointing out the manner in which they affected the political state of Europe, than at delineating his private virtues or defects. The plenipotentiaries of France, Spain, and England, continued their conferences at Cercamp ; and though each of them, with the usual art of negotiators, made at first very high demands in the name ot their respect- ive courts, yet as they were all equally desirous of peace, they would have consented reciprocally to such abatements and restrictions of their claims, as must have removed every obstacle to an accommodation. The death of Charles V. was a new motive with Philip to hasten the conclu- sion of a treaty, as it increased his impatience for returning into Spainr where there was now no person greater or more illustrious than himself. But in spite of the concurring wishes of all the parties interested, an event happened which occasioned an unavoidable delay in their negotiations. About a month after the opening of the conferences at Cercamp, Mary of England ended her short and inglorious reign [Nov. 17], and Elizabeth, her sister, was immediately proclaimed queen with universal joy. As the powers of the English plenipotentiaries expired on the death of their mis- tress, they could not proceed until they received a commission and instruc- tions from their new sovereign. Henry and Philip beheld Elizabeth's elevation to the throne with equal solicitude. As during Mary's jealous administration, under the most diffi- cult circumstances, and in a situation extremely delicate, that princess had conducted herself with prudence and address tar exceeding her years, they had conceived a high idea of her abilities, and already formed expectations of a reign very different from that of her sister. Equally sensible of the importance of gaining her favour, both monarchs set themselves >•• ith emu- lation to court it, and employed every art in order to insinuate themselves into her confidence. Each of them had something meritorious, with regard to Elizabeth, to plead in his own behalf. Henry had offered her a retreat in his dominions, if the dread of her sister's violence should force her to fly for safety out of England. Philip, by his powerful intercession, had pre- vented Mary from proceeding to the most fatal extremities against her sister. Each of them endeavoured now to avail himself of the circumstances in his favour. Henry wrote to Elizabeth soon after her accession, with the warmest expressions of gratitude and friendship. He represented the war which" had unhappily been kindled between their kingdoms, not as a national quarrel, but as the effect of Mary's blind partiality to her husband, and fond compliance with all his wishes. He entreated her to disengage herself from an alliance which had proved so unfortunate to England, and to consent to a separate peace with him, without mingling her interests with those of Spain, from which they ought now to be altogether disjoined. Philip on the other hand, unwilling to lose his connection with England, the importance of which, during a rupture with France, he had so recently experienced, not only vied with Henry in declarations of esteem for Eliza- beth, and in professions of his resolution to cultivate the strictest amity with her, but, in order to confirm and perpetuate their union, he offered himself to her in marriage, and undertook to procure a dispensation from the pope for that purpose. Elizabeth weighed the proposals of the two monarchs attentively, and with that provident discernment of her true interest, which was conspicuous in all her deliberations. She gave some encouragement to Henry s over- ture of a separate negotiation, because it opened a channel of correspond- ence with France, which she might find to be of great advantage, if Philip should not discover sufficient zeal and solicitude for securing to her proper terms in the joint treaty. But she ventured on this step with the most EMPEROR CHARLES V. 483 cautious reserve, that she might not alarm Philip's suspicious temper, and lose an ally in attempting; to gain an enemy.* Henry himself, by an unpar- donable act of indiscretion, prevented her from carrying her intercourse with him to such a length as might have offended or alienated Philip. At the very time when he was courting Elizabeth's friendship with the greatest assiduity, lie yielded with an inconsiderate facility to the solicitations of the princes of Lorrain, and allowed his daughter-in-law the queen of Scots to assume the title and arms of queen of England. This ill-timed preten- sion, the source of many calamities to the unfortunate queen of Scots, extinguished at once all the confidence that might have grown between Henry and Elizabeth, and left in its place distrust, resentment, and antipathy. Elizabeth soon found that she must unite her interests closely with Philip's, and expect peace only from negotiations carried on in conjunction with him.f As she had granted a commission, immediately after her accession, to the same plenipotentiaries whom her sister had employed, she now instructed them to act in every point in concert with the plenipotentiaries of Spain, and to take no step until they had previously consulted with them.J But though she deemed it prudent to assume this appearance of confidence in the Spanish monarch, she knew precisely how far to carry it; and dis- covered no inclination to accept of that extraordinary proposal of marriage which Philip had made to her. The English had expressed so openly their detestation of her sister's choice of him, that it would have been highly imprudent to have exasperated them by renewing that odious alli- ance. She was too well acquainted with Philip's harsh imperious temper, So think of him for a husband. Nor could she admit a dispensation from the pope to be sufficient to authorize her marrying him, without condemn- ing her father's divorce from Catherine of Arragon, and acknowledging of consequence that her mother's marriage was null, and her own birth ille- gitimate. But though she determined not to yield to Philip's addresses, the situation of her affairs rendered it dangerous to reject them ; she returned her answer, therefore, in terms which were evasive, but so tempered with respect, that though they gave him no reason to be secure of success, they did not altogether extinguish his hopes. By this artifice, as well as by the prudence with which she concealed her sentiments and intentions concerning religion, for some time after her accession, she so far gained upon Philip, that he warmly espoused her interest in the conferences which were renewed at Cercamp, and after- wards removed to Chateau-Cambresis [Feb. 6, 1559]. A definitive treaty, which was to adjust the claims and pretensions of so many princes, required the examination of such a variety of intricate points, and led to such infi- nite and minute details, as drew out the negotiations to a great length. But the constable Montmorency exerted himself with such indefatigable zeal and industry, repairing alternately to the courts of Paris and Brussels, in order to obviate or remove every difficulty, that all the points in dispute were adjusted at length in such a manner, as to give entire satisfaction in every particular to Henry and Philip ; and the last hand was ready to be put to the treaty between them. The claims of England remained as the only obstacle to retard it. Eliza- beth demanded the restitution of Calais in the most peremptory tone, as an essential condition of her consenting to peace; Henry refused to give up that important conquest; and Itoth seemed to have taken their resolution with unalterable firmness. Philip warmly supported Elizabeth's preten- sions to Calais, not merely from a principle of equity towards the English nation, that he might appear to have contributed to their recovering what they. had lost by espousing his cause ; nor solely with a view of soothing * Forbes, i. p. 4. t Sfirype'a Annate of the Reformation, i. II. fart*'? HH». of Fhijrlnni!, v»! iii. p. 375. 1 Knrtifs's KirN View, i. i> Ti J" 466 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XII. Elizabeth by his manifestation of zeal for her interest ; but in order to render France less formidable, by securing to her ancient enemy this easy access into the heart of the kingdom. The earnestness, however, with which he seconded the arguments of the English plenipotentiaries, soon began to relax. During the course of the negotiation, Elizabeth, who now felt herself firmly seated on her throne, began to take such open and vigorous measures not only for overturning all that her sister had done in favour of popery, but for establishing the protestant chinch on a firm foundation, as convinced Philip that his hopes of a union with her had been from tin: beginning vain, and were now desperate. From that period, his interposi- tions in her favour became more cold and formal, flowing merely from a regard to decorum, or from the consideration of remote political interests. Elizabeth having reason to expect such an alteration in his conduct, quickly perceived it. But as nothing would have been of greater detriment to her people, or more inconsistent widi her schemes of domestic administration, than the continuance of war, she saw the necessity of submitting to such con- ditions as the situation of her affairs imposed, and that she must reckon upon being deserted by an ally who was now united to her by a very feeble tie, if she did not speedily reduce her demands to what was moderate and attainable. She accordingly gave new instructions to her ambassadors ; and Philip's plenipotentiaries acting as mediators between the French and them,* an expedient was fallen upon which, in some degree, justified Eli- zabeth's departing from the rigour of her first demand with regard to < "alais. All lesser articles were settled without much discussion or delaj'. Philip, that he might not appear to have abandoned the English, insisted that the treaty between Henry and Elizabeth should be concluded in form, before that between the French monarch and himself. The one was signed on the second day of April, the other on the day following. The treaty of peace between France and England contained no articles of real importance, but that which respected Calais. It was stipulated, That the king of France should retain possession of that town, with all its dependencies, during eight years ; That at the expiration of that term, he should restore it to Englancl ; That in case of non-performance, he should forfeit five hundred thousand crowns, for payment of which sum, seven or eight wealthy merchants, who were not his subjects, should grant security ; That five persons of distinction should be given as hostages until that secu- rity were provided ; That, although the tor fe it of five hundred thousand crowns should be paid, the right of England to Calais should still remain entire,~in the same manner as if the term of eight years were expired ; That the king and queen of Scotland should be included in the treaty; That if they, or the French king, should violate the peace by any hostile action, Henry should be obliged instantly to restore Calais ; That on the otluer hand, if any breach ot the treaty proceeded from Elizabeth, then Henry, and the king and queen of Scots were absolved from all the engage- ments which they had come under by this treaty. Notwithstanding the studied attention with which so many precautions were taken, it i? evident that Henry did not intend the restitution of Calais, nor is it probable that Elizabeth expected it. It was hardly possible that she could maintain, during the course of eight years, such perfect concord both with France and Scotland, as not to afford Henry some pretext for alleging that she had violated the treaty. But even it that term should elapse without any ground for complaint, Henry might then choose to pay the sum stipulated, and Elizabeth had no method of asserting her right but by force of arms. However, by throwing the articles in the treaty with regard to Calais into this form, Elizabeth satisfied her subjects of every denomination : she gave men of discernment a striking proof of her address * Forbes, i. 5?. EMPEROR CHARLES V. 4S7 in palliating what she could not prevent ; and amusing the multitude, to whom the cession of such an important place would have appeared alto- gether infamous, with the prospect of recovering in a short time that favourite possession. The expedient which Montmorency employed, in order to facilitate the conclusion of peace hetween France and Spain, was the negotiating two treaties of marriage) one between Elizabeth, Henry's eldest daughter, and Philip, who supplanted his son, the unfortunate Don Carlos, to whom that princess had ^een promised in the former conferences at Cercamp ; the other between Margaret, Henry's only sister, and the duke of Savoy. For however feeble the ties of blood may often be among princes, or how little soever they may regard them when pushed on to act by motives ol ambition, they assume on other occasions the appearance of being so far influenced by these domestic affections as to employ them to justify mea- sures and concessions which they find to be necessary, but know to be impolitic or dishonourable. Such was the use Henry made of the two marriages to which he gave his consent. Having secured an honourable establishment for his sister and his daughter, he, in consideration of these, granted terms both to Philip and the duke of Savoy, of which he would not, on any other account, have ventured to approve. The principal articles in the treaty between France and Spain were, That sincere and perpetual amity should be established between the two crowns and their respective allies ; That the two monarchs should labour in concert to procure the convocation of a general council, in order to check the progress of heresy, and restore unity and concord to the Chris- tian church; That all conquests made by either party, on this side of the Alps, since the commencement of the war in one thousand five hundred and fifty-one, should be mutually restored ; That the dutchy of Savoy, the principality of Piedmont, the country of Bresse, and all the other territories formerly subject to the dukes of Savoy, should be restored to Emanuel Philibert, immediately after the celebration of his marriage with Margaret of France, the towns of Turin, Quiers, Pignerol, Chivaz, and Villanova excepted, of which Henry should keep possession until his claims to these places, in right of his grandmother, should be tried and decided in course of law ; That as long as Henry retained these places in his hands, Philip should be at liberty to keep garrisons in the towns of Varcelli and Asti ; That the French king should immediately evacuate all the places which he held in Tuscany and the Siennese, and renounce all future pretensions to them ; That he should restore the marquisate of Montferrat to the duke of Mantua ; That he should receive the Genoese into favour, and give up to them the towns which he had conquered in the island of Corsica ; That none of the princes or states, to whom these cessions were made, should call their subjects to account for any part of their conduct while under the dominion of their enemies, but should bury all past transactions in oblivion. The pope, the emperor, the kings of Denmark, Sweden, Poland, Portugal, the king and queen of Scots, and almost every prince and state in Chris- tendom, were comprehended in this pacification as the allies either of I [enry or of Philip.* Thus, by this famous treaty, peace was re-established in Europe. All the causes of discord which had so long embroiled the powerful monarchs of France and Spain, which bad transmitted hereditary quarrels and wars from Charles to Philip, and from Francis to Henry, seemed to be wholly removed, or finally terminated. The French alone complained of the unequal condition- of a treaty, into which an ambitious minister, in order to recover his liberty, and an artful mistiness, that she might gratify her ie«entment. had seduced their too easy monarch. They exclaimed loudh RecueH d« Treitaz, loin. H. n 488 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XII. against the folly of giving up to the enemies of France a hundred and eighty-nine fortified places, in the Low-Countries or in Italy, in return for the three insignificant towns of St. Quintin, Ham, and Catelet. They con- sidered it as an indelible stain upon the glory of the nation, to renounce in one day territories so extensive, and so capable of being; defended, that the enemy could not have hoped to wrest them out of their hands, after many years of victory. But Henry, without regarding the sentiments of his people, or being moved by the remonstrances of his council, ratified the treaty, and executed with great fidelity whatever he had stipulated to perform. The duke of Savoy repaired with a numerous retinue to Paris, in order to celebrate his marriage with Henry's sister. The duke of Alva was sent to the same capital, at the head of a splendid embassy, to espouse Elizabeth in the name of his master. They were received with extraordinary magnificence by the French court. Amidst the rejoicings and festivities on that occa- sion, Henry's days were cut short by a singular and tragical accident [July 10]. His son, Francis II. a prince under age, of a weak constitution, and of a mind still more feeble, succeeded him. Soon after, Paul ended his violent and imperious pontificate, at enmity with all the world, and dis- gusted even with his own nephews. They, persecuted by Philip, and deserted by the succeeding pope, whom they had raised by their influence to the papal throne, were condemned to the punishment which their crimes and ambition had merited, and their death was as infamous as their lives had been criminal. Thus most of the personages, who had long sustained the principal characters on the great theatre of Europe disappeared about the same time. A more known period of history opens at this era ; other actors enter upon the stage, with different views, as well as different pas- sions ; new contests arose, and new schemes of ambition occupied and disquieted mankind. Upon reviewing the transactions of any active period, in the history of civilized nations, the changes which are accomplished appear wonderfully disproportioned to the efforts which have been exerted. Conquests are never very extensive or rapid, but among nations whose progress in improvement is extremely unequal. When Alexander the Great, at the head of a gallant people, of simple manners, and formed to war by admi- rable military institutions, invaded a state sunk in luxury, and enervated by excessive refinement ; when Ghenchizcan and Tamerlane, with their armies of hardy barbarians, poured in upon nations, enfeebled by the climate in which they lived, or by the arts and commerce which they cultivated, these conquerors, like a torrent, swept every thing before them, subduing kingdoms and provinces in as short a space of time as was requi- site to march through them. But when nations are in a state similar to each other, and keep equal pace in their advances towards refinement, they are not exposed to the calamity of sudden conquests. Their acqui- sitions of knowledge, their progress in the art of war, their political sagacity and address, are nearly equal. The fate of states in this situation, depends not on a single battle. Their internal resources are many and various. Nor are they themselves alone interested in their own safety, or active in their own defence. Other states interpose, and balance any temporary advantage which either party may have acquired. After the fiercest and most lengthened contest, all the rival nations are exhausted, none are con- quered. At length they find it necessary to conclude a peace, which restores to each almost the same power and the same territories of which they were formerly in possession. Such was the state of Europe during the reign of Charles V. No prince was so much superior to the rest in power, as to render his efforts irresist- ible, and his conquests easy. No nation had made progress in improve- EMPEROR CHARLES V. 4y* ment so far beyond its neighbours, as to have acquired a very manifest pre-eminence. Each state derived some advantage, or was subject to some inconvenience from its situation or its climate; each was distinguished by something peculiar in the genius of its people, or the constitution of its government But the advantages possessed by one state, were counter- balanced by circumstances favourable toothers; and this prevented any from attaining such superiority as might have been fatal to all. The nations of Europe in that age, as in the present, were like one great family ; there were some features common to all, which fixed a resemblance ; there were certain peculiarities conspicuous in each, which marked a distinction. But there was not among them that wide diversity of character and of genius which, in almost every period of history, hath exalted the Euro- peans above the inhabitants of the other quarters of the globe, and seems to have destined the one to rule, and the other to obey. But though the .near resemblance and equality in improvement among the different nations of Europe prevented the reign of Charles V. from being distinguished by such sudden and extensive conquests as occur in some other periods of history, yet, during the course of his administration, all the considerable states in Europe suffered a remarkable change in their political situation, and felt the influence of events, which have not hitherto spent their force, but still continue to operate in a greater or in a less degree. It was during his reign, and in consequence of the perpetual efforts to which his enterprising ambition roused him, that the different kingdoms of Europe acquired internal vigour; that they discerned the resources of which they were possessed ; that they came both to feel their own strength, and to know how to make it formidable to others. It was during his reign, too, that the different kingdoms of Europe, which in former times seemed frequently to act as if they had been single and dis- joined, became so thoroughly acquainted, and so intimately connected with each other, as to form one great political system, in which each took a station, wherein it has remained since that time with less variation than could have been expected after the events of two active centuries. The progress, however, and acquisitions of the house of Austria, were not only greater than those of any other power, but more discernible and conspicuous. I have already enumerated the extensive territories which descended to Charles from his Austrian, Burgundian, and Spanish ances- tors.* To these he himself added the Imperial dignity ; and, as if all this had been too little, the bounds of the habitable globe seemed to be extended, and a new world was subjected to his command. Upon his resignation, the Burgundian provinces, and the Spanish kingdoms with their dependencies, both in the old and new worlds, devolved to Philip. But Charles transmitted his dominions to his son, in a condition very different from that in which he himself had received them. They were augmented by the accession of new provinces; they were habituated to obey an administration no less vigorous than steady ; they were accustomed to expensive and persevering efforts, which, though necessary in the contests between civilized nations, had been little known in Europe before the Hxteenth century. The provinces of Friesland, Utrecht, and Overyssel, which he acquired by purchase from their former proprietors, and the dutchy of Gueldres, of which he made himself master, partly by force of arms, partly by the arts of negotiation, were additions of great value to his Burgundian dominions. Ferdinand and Isabella transmitted to him all the provinces of Spain, from the bottom of the Pyrenees to the frontiers of Portugal ; but as he maintained a perpetual peace with that kingdom, amidst the various efforts of his enterprising ambition, he made no acquisition of territory in that quarter. * Srr. p. 89. Vor,. U.-fi^ 460. THE REIGN OF THE [Book XII. Charles had gained, however, a vast accession of power in this part of his dominions. By his success in the war with the commons of Castile, he exalted the regal prerogative upon the ruins of the privileges which formerly helonged to the people. Though he allowed the name of the Cortes to remain, and the formality of holding it to be continued ; he reduced its authority and jurisdiction almost to nothing, and modelled it in such a manner, that it became rather a junto of the servants of the crown, than an assembly of the representatives of the people- One member of the constitution being thus lopped off, it was impossible but that the other must feel the stroke, and suffer by it. The suppression of the popular power rendered the aristocratical less formidable. The grandees, prompted by the warlike spirit of the age, or allured by the honours which they enjoyed in a court, exhausted their fortunes in military service, or in attending on the person of their prince. They did not dread, perhaps did not observe, the dangerous progress of the royal authority, which, leaving them the vain distinction of being covered in presence of their sovereign, stripped them, by degrees, of that real power which they possessed while they formed one body, and acted in concert with the people. Charles's suc- cess in abolishing the privileges of the commons, and in breaking the power of the nobles of Castile, encouraged Philip to invade the liberties of Arragon, which were still more extensive. The Castilians, accustomed to subjection themselves, assisted in imposing the yoke on their more happy and independent neighbours. The will of the sovereign became the supreme law in all the kingdoms of Spain ; and princes who were not checked in forming their plans by the jealousy of the people, nor controlled in executing them by the power of the nobles, could both aim at great objects, and call forth the whole strength of the monarchy in order to attain them. As Charles, by extending the royal prerogative, rendered the monarchs of Spain masters at home, he added new dignity and power to their crown by his foreign acquisitions. He secured to Spain the quiet possession ot the kingdom of Naples, which Ferdinand had usurped by fraud, and held with difficulty. He united the dutchy of Milan, one of the most fertile and populous Italian provinces, to the Spanish crown ; and left his suc- cessors, even without taking their other territories into the account, the most considerable provinces in Italy, which had been long the theatre oi contention to the great powers of Europe, and in which they had struggled Avith emulation to obtain the superiority. When the French, in conformity to the treaty of Chateau-Cambresis, withdrew their forces out of Italy, and finally relinquished all their schemes of conquest on that side of the Alps, the Spanish dominions then rose in importance, and enabled their kings, as long as the monarchy retained any degree of vigour, to preserve the chief sway in all the transactions of that country. But whatever ac- cession, either of interior authority or of foreign dominion, Charles gained for the monarchs of Spain in Europe, was inconsiderable when compared with his acquisitions in the new world. He added there, not provinces, but empires to his crown. He conquered territories of such immense extent; he discovered such inexhaustible veins of wealth, and opened such boundless prospects of every kind, as must have roused his successor, and have called him forth to action, though his ambition had been much less ardent than that of Philip, and must have rendered him not only en- terprising but formidable. While the elder branch of the Austrian family rose to such pre-eminence in Spain, the younger, of which Ferdinand was the head, grew to be con- siderable in Germany ; the ancient hereditary dominions of the house of Austria in Germany, united to the kingdoms of Hungary and Bohemia, which Ferdinand had acquired by marriage, formed a respectable power ; and when the Imperial dignity was added to these. Ferdinand posseted EMPEROR CHARLES V. 491 territories more extensive than had belonged to any prince, Charles V. ex- cepted, who had been at the head of the empire for several ages. For- tunately for Europe, the disgust which Philip conceived on account of Ferdinand's refusing to relinquish the Imperial crown in his favour, not only prevented for some time the separate members of the house of Austria from acting in concert, but occasioned between them a visible alienation and rivalship. By degrees, however, regard to the interest of their family extinguished this unpolitical animosity. The confidence, which was natural, returned ; the aggrandizing of the house of Austria became the common object of all their schemes ; they gave and received assistance alternately towards the execution of them ; and each derived consideration and importance from the other's success. A family so great and so aspiring, became the general object of jealousy and terror. All the power, as well" as policy, of Europe were exerted during a century, in order to check and humble it. Nothing can give a more striking idea of the as- cendant which it had acquired, and of the terror which it had inspired, than that after its vigour was spent with extraordinary exertions of its strength, after Spain was become only the shadow of a great name, and its monarcbs were sunk into debility and dotage, the house of Austria still continued to be formidable. The nations of Europe had so often felt its superior power, and had been so constantly employed in guarding against it, that the dread of it became a kind of political habit, the influence of which remained when the causes which had formed it ceased to exist. While the house of Austria went on with such success in enlarging it- dominions, Fiance made no considerable acquisition of new territory. All its schemes of conquest in Italy had proved abortive ; it had hitherto obtained no establishment of consequence in the new world ; and after the continued and vigorous efforts of four successive reigns, the confines of the kingdom were much the same as Louis XI. had left them. But though France made not such large strides towards dominion as the house of Austria, it continued to advance by steps which were more secure, because they were gradual and less observed. The conquest of Calais put it out of the power of the English to invade France but at their utmost peril, and de- livered the French from the dread of their ancient enemies, who, previous to that event, could at any time penetrate into the kingdom by that avenue, and thereby retard or defeat the execution of their best concerted enter- prises against any foreign power. The important acquisition of Metz covered that part of their frontier which formerly was most feeble, and lay most exposed to insult. France, from the time of its obtaining these additional securities against external invasion, must be deemed the most powerful kingdom in Europe, and is more fortunately situated than any on the continent either for conquest or defence. From the confines of Artois to the bottom of the Pyrenees, and from the British channel to the frontiers of Savoy and the coast of the Mediterranean, its territories lay compact and unmingled with those of any other power. Several of the considerable provinces, which had contracted a spirit of independence by their having been long subject to the great vassals of the crown, who were often at variance or at war with their master, were now accustomed to recognise and to obey one sovereign. As they became members of the same monarchy, they assumed the sentiments of that body into which they were incorporated, and co-operated with zeal towards promoting its interest and honour. The power and influence wrested from the nobles were seized by the crown. The people were not admitted to share in these spoils; they gained no new privilege ; they acquired no additional weight in the legislature. It was not for the sake of the people, but in order to extend their own prerogative, that the monarchs of France had laboured to humble their great vassals. Satisfied with having brought them under entire subjection to the crown, they discovered no solicitude .192 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XII. to free the people from their ancient dependence on the nobles of whom they held, and by whom they were often oppressed. A monarch at the head of a kingdom thus united at home and secure from abroad, was entitled to form great designs, because he felt himself in a condition to execute them. The foreign wars which had continued with little interruption Irom the accession of Charles VIII. had not only cherished and augmented the martial genius of the nation, but by inuring the troops during the course of long service to the fatigues of war, and accustoming them to obedience, had added the force of discipline to their natural ardour. A gallant and active body of nobles, who considered themselves as idle and useless, unless when they were in the field ; who were hardly acquainted with any pastime or exercise but what was mili- tary; and who knew no road to power, or fame, or wealth, but war, would not have suffered their sovereign to remain long in inaction. The people, little acquainted with the arts of peace, and always ready to take arms at the command of their superiors, were accustomed, by the expense of long wars carried on in distant countries, to bear impositions, which, however inconsiderable they may seem if estimated by the exorbitant rate of modern exactions, appear immense when compared with the sums levied in France, or in any other country of Europe, previous to the reign of Louis XI. As all the members of which the state was composed were thus impatient for action, and capable of great efforts, the schemes and operations of France must have been no less formidable to Europe than those of Spain. The superior advantages of its situation, the contiguity and compactness of its territories, together with the peculiar state of its political constitution at that juncture, must have rendered its enterprises still more alarming and more decisive. The king possessed such a degree of power as gave him the entire command of his subjects; the people were strangers to those occupations and habits of life which render men averse to war, or unfit for it ; and the nobles, though reduced to the sub- ordination necessary in a regular government, still retained the high, un- daunted spirit which was the effect of their ancient independence. The vigour of the feudal times remained, their anarchy was at an end ; and the kingsof France could avail themselvesof the martial ardour which that singu- lar institution had kindled or kept alive, without being exposed to any of the dangers or inconveniences which are inseparable from it when in entire force. A kingdom in such a state is, perhaps, capable of greater military efforts than at any other period in its progress. But how formidable or how fatal soever to the other nations of Europe the power of such a monarchy might have been, the civil wars which broke out in France saved them at that juncture from feeling its effects. These wars, of which religion was the pretext and ambition the cause, wherein great abilities were displayed by the leaders of the different factions, and little conduct or firmness were manifested by the crown under a succession of weak princes, kept France occupied and embroiled for half a century. During these commotions the internal strength of the kingdom was much wasted, and such a spirit of anarchy was spread among the nobles, to whom rebellion was familiar, and the restraint of laws unknown, that a considerable interval became requisite not only for recruiting the internal vigour of the nation, but for re-establish- ing the authority of the prince ; so that it was long before France could turn her whole attention towards foreign transactions, or act with her pro- per force in foreign wars. It was long before she rose to that ascendant in Europe which she has maintained since the administration of Cardinal Richlieu, and which the situation as well as extent of the kingdom, the nature of her government, together with the character of her people, entitle her to maintain. While the kingdoms on the continent grew into power and consequence, England likewise made considerable progress towards regular government EMPEROR CHARLES V. 49J and interior strength. Henry VIII., probably without intention, and cer- tainly without any consistent plan, of which his nature was incapable, J>ursued the scheme of depressing the nobility, which the policy of his ather Henry VII. had begun. The pride and caprice of his temper led him to employ chiefly new men in the administration of affairs, because he found them most obsequious, or least scrupulous ; and he not only con- ferred on them such plenitude of power, but exalted them to such pre- eminence in dignity, as mortified and degraded the ancient nobility. By the alienation or sale of the church lands, which were dissipated with a profusion not inferior to the rapaciousness with which they had been seized, as well as by the privilege granted to the ancient landholders of selling their estates, or disposing of them by will, an immense property, formerly locked up, was brought into circulation. This put the spirit of industry and commerce in motion, and gave it some considerable degree ol vigour. The road to power and to opulence became open to persons of every con- dition. A sudden and excessive flow of wealth from the West Indies proved fatal to industry in Spain ; a moderate accession in England to the sum in circulation gave life to commerce, awakened the ingenuity oi the nation, and excited it to useful enterprise. In France, vyhat the nobles lost the crown gained. In England, the commons were gainers as well as the king. Power and influence accompanied of course the property which they acquired. They rose to consideration among their fellow subjects ; they began to feel their own importance ; and extending their influence in the legislative body gradually, and often when neither they themselves nor others foresaw all the effects of their claims and pretensions, they at last attained that high authority to which the British constitution is indebted for the existence, and must owe the preservation of its liberty. At the same time that the English constitution advanced towards perfection, several circumstances brought on a change in the ancient system with respect to foreign powers, and introduced another more beneficial to the nation. As soon as Henry disclaimed the supremacy of the papal see, and broke off all connexion with the papal court, considerable sums were saved to the nation, of which it had been annually drained by remittances to Rome for dispensations and indulgences, by the expense of pilgrimages into foreign countries,* or by payment of annates, first fruits, and a thousand other taxes which that artful and rapacious court levied on the credulity of mankind. The exercise of a jurisdiction different from that of the civil power, and claiming not only to be independent of it, but superior to it, a wild solecism in government, apt not only to perplex and disquiet weak minds, but tending directly to disturb society, was finally abolished. Government became more simple as well as more respectable, when no rank or character exempted any person from being amenable to the same courts as other subjects, from being tried by the same judges, and from being acquitted or condemned by the same laws. By the loss of Calais the English were excluded from the continent. All schemes for invading France became of course as chimerical as they had formerly been pernicious. The views of the English were confined, first, by necessity, and afterwards from choice, within their own island. That rage for conquest which had possessed the nation during many centuries, and wasted its strength in perpetual and fruitless wars, ceased at length. Those active spirits which had known and followed no pro- fession but war, sought for occupation in the arts of peace, and their country was benefited as much by the one as it had suffered by the other. The nation, which had been exhausted by frequent expeditions to the • The loss which the nation sustained by most of these articles is obvious, and must have been great. Even that by pilgrimages was not inconsiderable. In the year 1428, license was obtained by no fewer than'JlG persons to visit the shrine of St. .lames of Compostella in Spain. Rymer. vol. *. In 1434, tnenuuiberof pilgrims to the same place was 24€0. Ibid. In J445, they were 3100. vol. xi. 494 THE REIGN OF THE (Book XII. continent, recruited its numbers, and acquired new strength ; and when roused by any extraordinary exigency to take part in foreign operations, the vigour of its efforts was proportionally great, because they were only occasional and of a short continuance. The same principle which had led England to adopt this new system with regard to the powers on the continent, occasioned a change in its plan of conduct with respect to Scotland, the only foreign state with which, on account of its situation in the same island, the English had such a close connection as demanded their perpetual attention. Instead of prosecuting the ancient scheme of conquering that kingdom, which the nature of the country, defended by a brave and hardy people, rendered dangerous if not impracticable ; it appeared more eligible to endeavour at obtaining such influence in Scotland as might exempt England from any danger or disquiet from that quarter. The national poverty of the Scots, together with the violence and animosity of their factions, rendered the execution of this plan easy to a people far superior to them in wealth. The leading men of greatest power and popularity were gained ; the ministers and favourites of the crown were corrupted ; and such absolute direction of the Scottish councils was acquired, as rendered the operations of the one kingdom dependent, in a great measure, on the sovereign of the other. Such perfect external security, added to the interior advantages which England now possessed, must soon have raised it to new considera- tion and importance : the long reign of Elizabeth, equally conspicuous for -wisdom, for steadiness, and for vigour, accelerated its progress, and carried it with greater rapidity towards that elevated station which it hath since held among the powers of Europe. During the period in which the political state of the great kingdoms underwent such changes, revolutions of considerable importance happened in that of the secondary or inferior powers. Those in the papal court are most obvious, and of most extensive consequence. In the Preliminary Book, I have mentioned the rise of that spiritual jurisdiction which the popes claim as vicars of Jesus Christ, and have traced the progress of that "authority which they possess as temporal princes.* Previous to the reign of Charles V. there was nothing that tended to circumscribe or to moderate their authority, but science and philosophy, which began to revive and be cultivated. The progress of these, however, was still inconsiderable ; they always operate slowly ; and it is long before their influence reaches the people, or can produce any sensible effect upon them. They may perhaps gradually, and in a long eourse of years, undermine and shake an established system of false reli- gion, but there is no instance of their having overturned one. The battery is too feeble to demolish those fabrics which superstition raises on deep foundations, and can strengthen with the most consummate art. Luther had attacked the papal supremacy with other weapons, and with an impetuosity more formidable. The time and manner of his attack concurred with a multitude of circumstances, which have been explained, in giving him immediate success. The charm which had bound mankind for so many ages was broken at once. The human mind, which had con- tinued long as tame and passive as if it had been formed to believe what- ever was taught, and to bear whatever was imposed, roused of a sudden and became inquisitive, mutinous, and disdainful of the yoke to which it had hitherto submitted. That wonderful ferment and agitation of mind, which, at this distance of time, appears unaccountable, or is condemned as extravagant, was so general, that it must have been excited by causes which were natural and of powerful efficacy. The kingdoms of Denmark, Sweden, England, and Scotland, and almost one half of Germany, thrcv\ See p. 58 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 495 off their allegiance to the pope, abolished his jurisdiction within their terri- tories, and gave the sanction of law to modes of discipline and systems of doctrine which were not only independent of his power, but hostile to it. Nor was this spirit of innovation confined to those countries which openly revolted from the pope ; it spread through all Europe, and broke out in every part of it with various degrees of violence. It penetrated early into France, and made a quick progress there. In that kingdom, the number of converts to the opinions of the reformers was so great, their zeal so enterprising, and the abilities of their leaders so distinguished, that they soon ventured to contend for superiority with the established church, and were sometimes on the point of obtaining it. In all the pro- vinces of Germany which continued to acknowledge the papal supremacy, as well as in the Low-Countries, the protestant doctrines were secretly taught, and had gained so many proselytes, that they were ripe for revolt, and were restrained merely by the dread of their rulers from imitating the example of their neighbours, and asserting their independence. Even in Spain and Italy, symptoms to shake off the yoke appeared. The preten- sions of the pope to infallible knowledge arid supreme power were treated by many persons of eminent learning and abilities with such scorn, ov attacked with such vehemence, that the most vigilant attention of the civil magistrate, the highest strains of pontifical authority, and all the rigour of inquisitorial jurisdiction were requisite to check and extinguish it. The defection of so many opulent and powerful kingdoms from the papal see, was a fatal blow to its grandeur and power. It abridged the dominions of the popes in extent, it diminished their revenues, and left them fewer rewards to bestow on the ecclesiastics of various denomina- tions, attached to them by vows of obedience as well as by ties of interest, and whom they employed as instruments to establish or support their usur- pations in every part ol Europe. The countries too which now disclaimed their authority, were those which formerly had been most devoted to it. The empire of superstition differs from every other species of dominion ; its power is often greatest and most implicitly obeyed in the provinces most remote from the seat of government ; while such as are situated nearer to that are more apt to discern the artifices by which it is upheld, or the impostures on which it is founded. The personal frailties or vice^ of the popes, the errors as well as corruption of their administration, the ambition, venality, and deceit which reigned in their courts, fell immedi- ately under the observation of the Italians, and could not fail of diminishing that respect which begets submission. But in Germany, England, and the more remote parts of Europe, these were either altogether unknown, or being only known by report, made a slighter impression. Veneration for the papal dignity increased accordingly in these countries in proportion to their distance from Rome ; and that veneration, added to their gross igno- rance, rendered them equally credulous and passive. In tracing the progress of the papal domination, the boldest and most successful instances of encroachment are to be found in Germany and other countries distant from Italy. In these its impositions were heaviest and its exactions the most rapacious ; so that in estimating the diminution of power which the court of Rome suffered in consequence of the reformation, not only the number but the character of the people who revolted, not only the great extent of territory, but the extraordinary obsequiousness of the subjects which it lost, must be taken into the account. Nor was it only by this defection of so many kingdoms and states which the reformation occasioned, that it contributed to diminish the power ol the Roman pontiffs. It obliged them to adopt a different system of conduct towards the nations which still continued to recognise their juris- diction, and to govern them by new maxims and with a milder spirit. The reformation taught them, by a fatal example, what they seem not 496 THE REIGN OF THE [Book XII. before to have apprehended, that the credulity and patience of mankind might be overburdened and exhausted. They became afraid of venturing upon any such exertion of their authority as might alarm or exasperate their subjects, and excite them to a new revolt. They saw a rival church established in many countries of Europe, the members of which were on the watch to observe any errors in their administration, and eager to expose them. They were sensible that the opinions, adverse to their power and usurpations, were not adopted by their enemies alone, but had spread even among the people who still adhered to them. Upon all these ac- counts, it was no longer possible to lead or to govern their flock in the same manner as in those dark and quiet ages when faith was implicit, when submission was unreserved, and all tamely followed and obeyed the voice of their pastor. From the era of the reformation, the popes have ruled rather by address and management than by authority. Though the style of their decrees be still the same, the effect of them is very different. Those bulls and interdicts which, before the reformation, made the greatest princes tremble, have since that period been disregarded or despised by the most inconsiderable. Those bold decisions and acts of jurisdiction which, during many ages, not only passed uncensured, but were revered as the awards of a sacred tribunal, would, since Luther's appearance, be treated by one part of Europe as the effect of folly or arrogance, and be detested by the other as impious and unjust. The popes, in their admin- istration, have been obliged not only to accommodate' themselves to the notions of their adherents, but to pay some regard to the prejudices of their enemies. They seldom venture to claim new powers, or even to insist obstinately on their ancient prerogatives, lest they should irritate the former; they carefully avoid every measure that may either excite the indignation or draw on them the derision of the latter. The policy of the court of Rome has become as cautious, circumspect, and timid, as it was once adventurous and violent ; and though their pretensions to infallibility, on which all their authority is founded, does not allow them to renounce any jurisdiction, which they have at any time claimed or exercised, they find it expedient to suffer many of their prerogatives to lie dormant, and not to expose themselves to the risk of losing that remainder of power which they still enjoy, by ill-timed attempts towards reviving obsolete pretensions. Before the sixteenth century, the popes were the movers and directors in every considerable enterprise; they were at the head of every great alliance ; and being considered as arbiters in the affairs of Christendom, the court of Rome was the centre of political negotiation and intrigue. Since that time, the greatest operations in Europe have been carried on independent of them ; they have sunk almost to a level with the other petty princes of Italy; they continue to claim, though they dare not exercise, the same spiritual jurisdiction, but hardly retain any shadow of the temporal power which they anciently possessed. But how fatal soever the reformation may have been to the power of (he popes, it has contributed to improve the church of Rome both in science and in morals. The desire of equalling the reformers in those talents which had procured them respect ; the necessity of acquiring the knowledge requisite for defending their own tenets, or refuting the argu- ments of their opponents ; together with the emulation natural between two rival churches, engaged the Roman catholic clergy to apply themselves to the study of useful science, which they cultivated with such assiduity and success, that they have gradually become as eminent in literature, as they were in some periods infamous for ignorance. The same principle occasioned a change no less considerable in the morals of the Romish clergy. Various causes which have formerly been enumerated, had con- curred in introducing great irregularity, and even dissolution of manners, among the popish clergy. Luther and his adherents began their attack on EMPEROR CHARLES V. 497 the church with such vehement invectives against these, that, in order to remove the scandal, and silence their declamations, greater decency of conduct became necessary. The reformers themselves were so eminent not only for the purity but even austerity of their manners, and had ac- quired such reputation among- the people on that account, that the Roman Catholic clergy must have soon lost all credit, if they had not endeavoured to conform in some measure to their standard. They knew that all their actions fell under the severe inspection of the protestants, whom enmity and emulation prompted to observe every vice, or even impropriety in their conduct; to censure them without indulgence, and expose them without mercy. This rendered them, of course, not only cautious to avoid such enormities as might give offence, but studious to acquire the virtues which might merit praise. In Spain and Portugal, where the tyrannical jurisdiction of the inquisition crushed the protestant faith as soon as it appeared, the spirit of popery continues invariable ; science has made small progress, and the character of ecclesiastics has undergone little change. But in those countries where the members of the two churches have mingled freely with each other, or have carried on any considerable intercourse, either commercial or literary, an extraordinary alteration in the ideas, as well as in the morals of the popish ecclesiastics, is manifest. In France, the manners of the dignitaries and secular clergy have become decent and exemplary in a high degree. Many of them have been distin- guished for all the accomplishments and virtues which can adorn their pro- fession ; and differ greatly from their predecessors before the reformation, both in their maxims and in their conduct. Nor has the influence of the reformation been felt only by the inferior members of the Roman catholic church ; it has extended to the see of Rome, to the sovereign pontiffs themselves. Violations of decorum, and even trespasses against morality, which passed without censure in those" ages, when neither the power of popes, nor the veneration of the people for their character, had any bounds ; when there was no hostile eye to observe the errors in their conduct, and no adversaries zealous to inveigh against them ; would be liable now to the severest animadversion, and excite general indignation or horror. Instead of rivalling the courts of temporal princes in gayety, and surpassing them in licentiousness, the popes have studied to assume manners more severe and more suitable to their ecclesiastical character. The chair of St. Peter hath not been polluted during two centuries, by any pontiff that resembled Alexander VI. or several of his predecessors, wLo were a disgrace to religion and to human nature. Throughout this long succession of popes, a wonderful decorum of conduct, compared with that of preceding ages, is observable. Many of them, especially among the pontiffs of the present century, have been conspicuous for all the virtues becoming their high station ; and by their humanity, their love of literature, and their moderation, have made some atonement to mankind for the crimes of their predecessors. Thus the beneficial influences of the reformation have been more extensive than they appear on a superficial view; and this great division in the Christian church hath contributed, in some measure, to increase purity of manners, to diffuse science, and to inspire humanity. History recites such a number of shocking events occasioned by religious dissensions, that it must afford peculiar satisfaction to trace any one salutary or beneficial effect to that source from which so many fatal calamities have flowed. The republic of Venice, which, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, had appeared so formidable, that almost all the potentates of Europe united in a confederacy for its destruction, declined gradually from its ancient power and splendour. The Venetians not only lost a great part of their territory in the war excited by the league of Cambray, btot the revenues as well as vigour of the state were exhausted by their extraordi- Vol. II. — 63 496 THE REIGN OF THE [Book Xil, nary and long-continued efforts in their own defence ; and that commerce by which they had acquired their wealth and power began to decay, with- out any hopes of its reviving. All the fatal consequences to their republic, which the sagacity of the Venetian senate foresaw on the first discovery of a passage to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope, actually took place. Their endeavours to prevent the Portuguese from establishing themselves in the East Indies, not only by exciting the Soldans of Egypt, and the Ottoman monarchs, to turn their arms against such dangerous intruders, but by affording secret aid to the infidels in order to insure their success,* proved ineffectual. The activity and valour of the Portuguese surmounted every obstacle, and obtained such a firm footing in that fertile country, as secured to them large possessions, together with an influence till more extensive. Lisbon, instead of Venice, became the staple for the precious commodities of the East. The Venetians, after having possessed, for many years, the monopoly of that beneficial commerce, had the mortifi- cation to be excluded from almost any share in it. The discoveries of the Spaniards in the Western world proved no less fatal to inferior branches of their commerce. The original defects which were formerly pointed out in the constitution of the Venetian republic still continued, and the dis- advantages with which it undertook any great enterprise increased, rather than diminished. The sources from which it derived its extraordinary riches and power being dried up, the interior vigour of the state declined, and, of course, its external operations became less formidable. Long before the middle of the sixteenth century, Venice ceased to be one of the principal powers in Europe, and dwindled into a secondary and subaltern state. But as the senate had the address to conceal the diminution of its power, under the veil of moderation and caution ; as it made no rash effort that could discover its weakness ; as the symptoms of political decay in states are not soon observed, and are seldom so apparent to their neighbours as to occasion any sudden alteration in their conduct towards them, Venice continued long to be considered and respected. She was treated not according to her present condition, but according to the rank which she had formerly held. Charles V. as well as the kings of France his rivals, courted her assistance with emulation and solicitude in all their enterprises. Even down to the close of the century, Venice remained not only an object of attention, but a considerable seat of political negotiation and intrigue. That authority which the first Cosmo di Medici, and Laurence, his grandson, had acquired in the republic of Florence, by their beneficence and abilities, inspired their descendants with the ambition of usurping the sovereignty in their country, and paved their way towards it. Charles V. placed Alexander di Medici at the head of the republic [A. D. 1550], and to the natural interest and power of the family added the weight as well as credit of the Imperial protection. Of these, his successor Cosmo, sur- named the Great, availed himself; and establishing his supreme authority on the ruins of the ancient republican constitution, he transmitted that, together with the title of grand duke of Tuscany, to his descendants. Their dominions were composed of the territories which had belonged to the three commonwealths of Florence, Pisa, and Sienna, and formed one of the most respectable of the Italian states. The dukes of Savoy, during the former part of the sixteenth century, possessed territories which were not considerable either for extent or value ; and the French, having seized the greater part of them, obliged the reigning duke to retire for safety to the strong fortress of Nice, where he shut himself up for several years, while his son, the prince of Piedmont, endeavoured to better his fortune, by serving as an adventurer in the armies of Spain. The peace of Chateau-Cambresis restored to him his paternal dominions. As these are environed on every hand by powerful * Frebpr. Script. Rer. German, vol. ii. 529 EMPEROR CHARLES V. 499 neighbours, all whose motions the dukes of Savoy must observe with the greatest attention, in order not only to guard against the danger of being surprised and overpowered, but that they may choose their side with discernment in those quarrels wherein it is impossible for them to avoid taking part, this peculiarity in their situation seems to have had no inconsi- derable influence on their character. By rousing them to perpetual atten- tion, by keeping their ingenuity always on the stretch, and engaging them in almost continual action, it hath formed a race of princes more sagacious in discovering their true interest, more decisive in their resolutions, and more dexterous in availing themselves of every occurrence which pre- sented itself, than any perhaps that can be singled out in the history of Europe. By gradual acquisitions the dukes of Savoy have added to their territories, as well as to their own importance ; and aspiring at length to regal dignity, which they obtained about half a century ago, by the title of kings of Sardinia, they hold now no inconsiderable rank among the monarchs of Europe. The territories which form the republic of the United Netherlands were lost during the first part of the sixteenth century, among the numerous provinces subject to the house of Austria ; and were then so inconsider- able, that hardly one opportunity of mentioning them hath occurred in all the busy period of this history. But soon after the peace of Chateau-Cam- bresis, the violent and bigoted maxims of Philip's government, being car- ried into execution with unrelenting rigour by the duke of Alva, exaspe- rated the free people of the Low-Countries to such a degree, that they threw off the Spanish yoke, and asserted their ancient liberties and laws. These they defended with a persevering valour, which gave employment to the arms of Spain during half a century, exhausted the vigour, ruined the reputation of that monarchy, and at last constrained their ancient mas- ters to recognise and to treat with them as a free independent state. This state, founded on liberty, and reared by industry and economy, grew into great reputation, even while struggling for its existence. But when peace and security allowed it to enlarge its views, and to extend its com- merce, it rose to be one of the most respectable as well as enterprising powers in Europe. The transactions of the kingdoms in the North of Europe have been seldom attended to in the course of this history. Russia remained buried in that barbarism and obscurity, from which it was called about the beginning of the present century, by the creative genius of Peter the Great, who made his country known and formidable to the rest of Europe. In Denmark and Sweden, during the reign of Charles V., great revolu- tions happened in their constitutions, civil as well as ecclesiastical. In the former kingdom, a tyrant being degraded from the throne, and expelled the country, a new prince was called by the voice of tlie people to assume the reins of government. In the latter, a fierce people roused to arms by injuries and oppression, shook off the Danish yoke, and conferred the regal dignity on its deliverer Gustavus Ericson, who had all the virtues of a hero, and of a patriot. Denmark, exhausted bjr foreign wars, or weakened by the dissensions between the king and the nobles, became incapable of such efforts as were requisite in order to recover the ascendant which it had long possessed in the North of Europe. Sweden, as soon as it was lreed from the dominion of strangers, began to recruit its strength, and acquired in a short time such internal vigour, that it became the first king- dom in the North. Early in the subsequent century, it rose to such a high rank among the powers of Europe, that it had the chief merit in forming, as well as conducting, that powerful league, which protected not only the protestant religion, but the liberties of Germany, against the bigotry and ambition of the house of Austria. I *o i PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. Note [1]. Page 8. The consternation of the Britons, when invaded by the Picts and Caledonians after the Roman legions were called out of the islands, may give some idea of the degree of debasement to which the human mind was reduced by long ser- vitude under the Romans. In their supplicatory letter to Actius, which they call the Groans of Britain, " We know not," say they, " which way to turn us. The barbarians drive us to the sea, and the sea forces us back on the barbarians; between which we have only the choice of two deaths, either to be swallowed up by the waves, or to be slain by the sword.'1 Histor. Gildae, ap. Gale, Hist. Britain. Script, p. 6. — One can hardly believe this dastardly race to be the de- scendants of that gallant people, who repulsed Caesar, and defended their liberty so long against the Roman arms. Note [2]. Page 8. The barbarous nations were not only illiterate, but regarded literature witii contempt. They found the inhabitants of all the provinces of the empire sunk in effeminacy, and averse to war. Such a character was the object of scorn to a high-spirited and gallant race of men. " When we would brand an enemy," says Liutprandus, " with the most disgraceful and contumelious ap- pellation, we call him a Roman ; hoc solo, id est Romani nomine, quicquid ignobilitatis, quicquid timiditatis, quicquid avaritise, quicquid luxuria;, quicquid mendacii, immo quicquid vitiorum est comprehendentes." Liutprandi Legatio apud Murat. Scriptor. Italic, vol. ii. pars 1. p. 481. This degeneracy of manners, illiterate barbarians imputed to their love of learning. Even after they settled in the countries which they had conquered, they would not permit their children to be instructed in any science ; " for," said they, " instruction in the sciences tends to corrupt, enervate, and depress the mind ; and he who has been accustomed to tremble under the rod of a pedagogue, will never look on a sword or spear with an undaunted eye." Procop. de bello Gothor. lib. i. p. 4. ap. Scrip. Byz. edit. Vennet. vol. i. A considerable number of years elapsed, before nations so rude, and so unwilling to learn, could produce historians capable of recording their transactions, or of describing their manners and in- stitutions. By that time, the memory of their ancient condition was in a great measure lost, and few monuments remained to guide their first writers to any certain knowledge of it. If one expects to receive any satisfactory account of the manners and laws of the Goths, Lombards, or Franks, during their residence in those countries where they were originally seated, from Jornandes, Paulus Warnefridus, or Gregory of Tours, the earliest and most authentic historians of these people, he will be miserably disappointed. Whatever imperfect know- ledge has been conveyed to us of their ancient state, we owe not to their own- writers, but to the Greek and Roman historians. Note [3]. Page 8. A circumstance, related by Priscus in his history of the embassy to Attila; king of the Huns, gives a striking view of the enthusiastic passion for war which prevailed among the barbarous nations. When the entertainment, to which that fierce conqueror admitted the Roman ambassadors, was ended, two Scy- thians advanced towards Attila, and recited a poem in which they celebrated his victories and military virtues. All the Huns fixed their eyes with attention on the bards. Some seemed to be delighted with the verses ; others, remember- ing their own battles and exploits, exulted with joy; while such as were become PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 501 feeble through age, burst into tears, bewailing the decay of their vigour, and the state of inactivity in which they were now obliged to remain. Excerpta ex historia Prisci Rhetoris ap. Byzant. Histor. Script, vol. i. p. 45. Note [4]. Page 11. A remarkable confirmation of both parts of this reasoning occurs in the history of England. The Saxons carried on the conquest of that country, with the same destructive spirit which distinguished the other barbarous na- tions. The ancient inhabitants of Britain were either exterminated, or forced to take shelter among the mountains of Wales, or reduced to servitude. The Saxon government, laws, manners and language were of consequence intro- duced into Britain ; and were so perfectly established, that all memory of the institutions previous to their conquest of the country, was in a great measure lost. The very reverse of this happened in a subsequent revolution. A single victory placed William the Norman on the throne of England. The Saxon inhabitants, though oppressed, were not exterminated. William employed the utmost efforts of his power and policy to make his new subjects conform in every thing to the Norman standard, but without success. The Saxons, though vanquished, were far more numerous than their conquerors ; when the two races began to incorporate, the Saxon laws and manners gradually gained ground. The Norman institutions became unpopular and odious ; many of them fell into disuse, and in the English constitution and language, at this day, many essential parts are manifestly of Saxon, not of Norman extraction. Note [5]. Page 11. Procopius, the historian, declines, from a principle of benevolence, to give any particular detail of the cruelties of the Goths : " Lest,'1 says he, lk I should transmit a monument and example of inhumanity to succeeding ages." Proc. de bello Goth. lib. iii. cap. 10. ap. Byz. Script, vol. i. p. 126. But as the change, which I have pointed out as a consequence of the settlement of the barbarous nations in the countries formerly subject to the Roman empire, could not have taken place, if the greater part of the ancient inhabitants had not been extir- pated, an event of such importance and influence merits a more particular illustration. This will justify me for exhibiting some part of that melancholy spectacle, over which humanity prompted Procopius to draw a veil. I shall not, however, disgust my readers by a minute narration ; but rest satisfied with collecting some instances of the devastations made by two of the many nations which settled in the empire. The Vandals were the first of the barbarians who invaded Spain. It was one of the richest and most populous of the Roman provinces ; the inhabitants had been distinguished for courage, and had defended their liberty against the arms of Rome, with greater obstinacy and during a longer course of years, than any nation in Europe. But so entirely were they enervated by their subjection to the Romans, that the Vandals, who entered the kingdom, A. D. 409, completed the conquest of it with such rapidity, that in the year 411, these barbarians divided it among them by casting lots. The desolation occasioned by their invasion, is thus described by Idatius an eye- witness : " The barbarians wasted every thing with hostile cruelty. The pesti- lence was no less destructive. A dreadful famine raged, to such a degree, that the living were constrained to feed on the dead bodies of their fellow-citizens ; and all those terrible plagues desolated at once the unhappy kingdoms.'" Idatii Chron. ap. Biblioth. Patr n. vol. vii. p. 1233. edit. Ludg. 1677. The Goths having attacked the Vand !=; in their new settlements a fierce war ensued ; the country was plundered by >oth parties; the cities which had escaped from de- struction in the first invasion of the Vandals, were now laid in ashes, and the inhabitants exposed to suffer every thing that the wanton cruelty of barbarians could inflict. Idatius describes these scenes of inhumanity, ibid. p. 1235. b. 1236. c. f. A similar account of their devastation is given by Isidorus Hispa- lensis, and other contemporary writers. Isid. Chron. ap. Grot. hist. Goth. 732. From Spain the Vandals passed over into Africa, A. D. 428. Africa was, next to Egypt, the most fertile of the Roman provinces. It ■ as one of the grana- ries of the empire, and is called by an ancient writer the soul of the common- wealth. Though the army with which the Vandals invaded it Hid not exceed 502 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. , 30,000 fighting men, they became absolute masters of the province in less than two years. A contemporary author gives a dreadful account of the havoc which they made : " They found a province well cultivated, and enjoying plenty, the beauty of the whole earth. They carried their destructive arms into every corner of it ; they dispeopled it by their devastations ; exterminating every thing with fire and sword. They did not even spare the vines and fruit trees, that those to whom caves and inaccessible mountains had afforded a r- • cat, might find no nourishment of any kind. Their hostile rage could not >>e sa- tiated, and there was no place exempted from the effects of it. They tortured their prisoners with the most exquisite cruelty, that they might force from them a discovery of their hidden treasures. The more they discovered the more they expected, and the more implacable they became. Neither the infirmities of age nor of sex ; neither the dignity of nobility, nor the sanctity of the sacerdotal office, could mitigate their fury ; but the more illustrious their prisoners were, the more barbarously they insulted them. The public build- ings which resisted the violence of the flames, they levelled with the ground. They left many cities without an inhabitant. VVhen they approached any fortified place, which their undisciplined army could not reduce, they gathered together a multitude of prisoners, and putting them to the sword, left their bodies unburied, that the stench of the carcasses might oblige the garrison to abandon it." Victor Vitensis de persecutione Africana, ap. Jhbl. Patrum, vol. viii. p. 666. St. Augustin, an African, who survived the conquest of his country by the Vandals some years, gives a similar description of their cruelties, Opera, vol. x. p. 372. edit. 1616. — About a hundred years after the settlement of the Vandals in Africa, Belisarius attacked and dispossessed them. Pro- copius, a contemporary historian, describes the devastation which that war oc- casioned. " Africa," says he, " was so entirely dispeopled that one might travel several days in it without meeting one man ; and it is no exaggeration to say, that in the course of the war five millions of persons perished ! Proc. Hist. Arcana, cap. 18. ap. Byz. Script, vol. i. 315. — I have dwelt longer upon the calamities of this province, because they are described not only by contempo- rary authors, but by eye-witnesses. The present state of Africa confirms their testimony. Many of the most flourishing and populous cities with which it was filled, were so entirely *uined, that no vestiges remain to point out where they were situated. That fertile territory which sustained the Roman empire, still lies in a great measure uncultivated ; and that province, which Victor, in his barbarous Latin, called Speciositas totius terra flortntis, is now the retreat of pirates and banditti. While the Vandals laid waste a great part of the empire, the Huns desolated the remainder. Of all the barbarous tribes they were the fiercest and most formidable. Ammianus Marcelhnus, a contemporary author, and one of the best of the later historians, gives an account of their policy and manners ; which nearly resembled those of the Scythians described by the ancients, and of the Tartars known to the moderns. Some parts of their character, and several of their customs are not unlike those of the Savages in North America. Their passion for war was extreme. " As in polished societies" says Am- mianus, " ease and tranquillity are courted, they delight in war and dangers. He who falls in battle is reckoned happy. They who die of old age or of dis- ease are deemed infamous. They boast, with the utmost exultation, of the number of enemies whom they have slain, and, as the most glorious of all ornaments, they fasten the scalps of those who have fallen by their hands to the trappings of their horses." Ammian. Marc. lib. xxxi. p. 477. edit. Gronov. Lugd. 1693. — Their incursions into the empire began in the fourth century ; and the Romans, though no strangers, by that time, to the effects of barbarous rage, were astonished at the cruelty of their devastations. Thrace, Pannonia. and Illyricum, were the countries which they first laid desolate. As they had at first no intention of settling in Europe, they made only inroads of short con- tinuance into the empire, but these were frequent, and Procopius computes that in each of these, at a medium, two hundred thousand persons perished, or were carried off as slaves. Procop. Hist. Arcan. ap. Byz. Script, vol. i. 316. Thrace, the best cultivated province in that quarter of the empire, was con - verted into a desert, and. when Prisons accompanied the ambassadors sent to P HOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 603 Attila, there were no inhabitants in some of the cities but a few miserable peo- ple who had taken shelter among the ruins of the churches ; and the fields were covered with the bones of those who had fallen by the sword. Priscus ap. Byz. Script, vol. i. 34. Attila became king of the Huns, A. D. 434. He is one of the greatest and most enterprising conquerors mentioned in history. He extended his empire over all the vast countries comprehended under the gene- ral names of Scythia and Germany in the ancient division of the world. While he was carrying on his wars against the barbarous nations, he kept the Roman empire under perpetual apprehensions, and extorted enormous subsi- dies from the timid and effeminate monarchs who governed it. In the year 451, he entered Gaul, at the head of an army composed of all the various nations which he had subdued. It was more numerous than any with which the barbarians had hitherto invaded the empire. The devastations which he committed were horrible; not. only the open country, but the most flourishing cities, were desolated. The extent and cruelty of his devastations are de- scribed by Salvianus de Gubernat. Dei, edit. Baluz. Par. 1669. p. 139, &c. and by Idatius, ubi supra, p. 1235. Aetius put a stop to his progress in that country by the famous battle of Chalons, in which, (if we may believe the historians of that age) three hundred thousand persons perished. Jdat. Ibid. Jornandes de Rebus Geticis. ap. Grot. Hist. Gothr. p. 671. Amst. 1665. But the next year he resolved to attack the centre of the empire, and marching into Italy, wasted it with rage, inflamed by the sense of his late disgrace. What Italy suffered by the Huns, exceeded all the calamities which the preceding bar- barians had brought upon it. Conringius has collected several passages from the ancient historians, which prove that the devastations committed by the Vandals and Huns, in the countries situated on the banks of the Rhine, were no less cruel and fatal to the human race. Exercitatio de urbibus Germaniaa, Opera, vol. i. 488. It is endless, it is shocking, to follow these destroyers of mankind through so many scenes of horror, and to contemplate the havoc which they made of the human species. But the state in which Italy appears to have been, during several ages after the barbarous nations settled in it, is the most decisive proof of the cruelty as well as extent of their devastations. Whenever any country is thinly inhabited, trees and shrubs spring up in the uncultivated fields, and spreading by degrees, form large forests ; by the overflowing of rivers, and the stagnating of waters, other parts of it are converted into lakes and marshes. Ancient Italy, which the Romans rendered the seat of elegance and luxury, was cultivated to the highest pitch. But so effectually did the devastations of the barbarians destroy all the effects of Roman industry and cultivation, that in the eighth century a considerable part of Italy appears to have been covered with forests and marshes of great extent. Muratori enters into a minute detail concerning the situation and limits of several of these ; and proves by the most authentic evidence, that great tracts of territory, in all the different provinces of Italy, were either overrun with wood, or laid under water. Nor did these occupy parts of the country naturally barren or of little value, but were spread over districts which ancient writers represent as extremely fertile, and which at present are highly cultivated. Muratori Antiquitates Italics medii aevi, dissert. xxi. v. ii. p. 149. 153, &c. A strong proof of this occurs in a description of the city of Modena, by an author of the tenth century. Murat. Script. Rerum Italic, vol. ii. pars ii. p. 691. The state of desolation in other countries of Europe seems to have been the same. In many of the most early charters now extant, the lands granted to monasteries, or to private persons, are dis- tinguished into such as are cultivated or inhabited, and such as were eremi, desolate. In many instances, lands are granted to persons because they had taken them from the desert, ab eremo, and had cultivated and planted them with inhabitants. This appears from a charter of Charlemagne, published by Eckhart de Rebus Francise Orientalis, vol. ii. p. 864, and from many charters of his successors quoted by Uu Cange, voc. eremus. — Wherever a right of pro- perty in land can be thus acquired, it is evident that the country must be ex- tremely desolate and thinly peopled. The first settlers in America obtained possession of land by such a title. Whoever was able to clear and cultivate a field, wns recognised as the proprietor. His industry merited such a rccom- 5U4 PKOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. pense. The grants in the charters which I have mentioned flow from a similar principle, and there must have been some resemblance in the state of the countries. Muratori adds, that during the eighth and ninth centuries, Italy was greatly infested with wolves and other wild beasts ; another mark of its being destitute of inhabitants. Murat. Antiq. vol. ii. p. 163. Thus Italy, the pride of the ancient world for its fertility and cultivation, was reduced to the state of a country newly peopled and lately rendered habitable. I am sensible, not only that some of these descriptions of the devastations, which I have quoted, may be exaggerated, but that the barbarous tribes, in making their settlements, did not proceed invariably in the same manner. Some of them seemed to be bent on exterminating the ancient inhabitants ; others were more disposed to incorporate with them. It is not my province either to inquire into the causes which occasioned this variety in the conduct of the conquerors, or to describe the state of those countries where the ancient inhabitants were treated most mildly. The facts which I have produced are sufficient to justify the account which I have given in the text, and to prove, that the destruction of the human species, occasioned by the hostile invasions of the northern nations and their subsequent settlements, was much greater than many authors seem to imagine. Note [6]. Page 12. I have observed, Note [2.] that our only certain information concerning the ancient state of the barbarous nations must be derived from the Greek and Roman writers. Happily an account of the institutions and customs of one people, to which those of all the rest seem to have been in a great measure similar, has been transmitted to us by two authors, the most capable, perhaps, that ever wrote, of observing them with profound discernment, and of describ- ing them with propriety and force. The reader must perceive that Caesar and Tacitus are the authors whom I have in view. The former gives a short ac- count of the ancient Germans in a few chapters of the sixth book of his Com- mentaries ; the latter wrote a treatise expressly on that subject. These are the most precious and instructive monuments of antiquity to the present inhabitants of Europe. From them we learn, 1. That the state of society among the ancient Germans was of the rudest a>nd most simple form. They subsisted entirely by hunting or by pasturage. Caes. lib. vi. c. 21. They neglected agriculture, and lived chiefly on milk, cheese, and flesh. Ibid. c. 22. Tacitus agrees with him in most of these points. De Morib. Germ. c. 14, 15. 23. The Goths were equally negligent of agriculture. Prise. Rhet. ap. Byz. Script, v. i. p. 31. B. Society was in the same state among the Huns, who disdained to cultivate the earth, or to touch a plough. Aram. Marcel, lib. xxxi. p. 475. The same manners took place among the Alans; ibid. p. 477. While society remains in this simple state, men by uniting together scarcely relinquish any portion of their natural independ- ence. Accordingly we are informed, 2. That the authority of civil government was extremely limited among the Germans. During times of peace they had no common or fixed magistrate, but the chief men of every district dispensed justice and accommodated differences, Cass. ibid. c. 23. Their kings had not absolute or unbounded power ; their authority consisted rather in the privilege of advising, than in the power of commanding. Matters of small consequence were determined by the chief men ; affairs of importance by the whole com- munity. Tacit, c. 7. 11. The Huns, in like manner, deliberated in common concerning every business of moment to the society ; and were not subject to the rigour of regal authority. Amm. Marcel, lib. xxxi. p. 474. 3. Every in- dividual among the ancient Germans was left at liberty to choose whether he would take part in any military enterprise which was proposed ; there seems to have been no obligation to engage in it imposed on him by public authority. " When any of the chief men propose an expedition, such as approve of the cause and of the leader rise up, and declare their intention of following him ; after coming under this engagement, those who do not fulfil it, are considered as deserters and traitors, and are looked upon as infamous." Caes. ibid. c. 23. Tacitus plainly points at the same, custom, though in terms more obscurr-. PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 505 Tacit, c. 11. 4. As every individual was so independent, and master in so great a degree of his own actions, it became of consequence, the great object of every person among the Germans, who aimed at being a leader, to gain ad- herents and attach them to his person and interest. These adherents Caesar calls Ambacti and Clientes, i. e. retainers or clients ; Tacitus, Comites, or com- panions. The chief distinction and power of the leaders consisted in being attended by a numerous band of chosen youth. This was their pride as well as ornament during peace and their defence in war. The leaders gained or preserved the favour of theso retainers by presents of armour and of horses ; or by the profuse though inelegant hospitality with which ihey entertained them. Tacit, c. 14, 15. 5. Another consequenco of the personal liberty and independence which the Germans retained, even after they united in society, was their circumscribing the criminal jurisdiction of the magistrate within very narrow limits, and their not only claiming but exercising almost all the rights of private resentment and revenge. Their magistrates had not the power either of imprisoning or of inflicting any corporal punishment on a free man. Tacit, c. 7. Every person was obliged to avenge the wrongs which his parents or friends had sustained. Their enemies were hereditary, but not irreconcilable. Even murder was compensated by paying a certain number of cattle. Tacit. c. 21. A part of the fine went to the king, or state, a part to the person who had been injured, or to his kindred. Ibid. c. 12. ThoBe particulars concerning the institutions and manners of the Germans, though well known to every person conversant in ancient literature, I have thought proper to arrange in this order, and to lay before such of my readers as may be less acquainted with these facts, both because they confirm the account which I have given of the state of the barbarous nations, and because they tend to illustrate all the observations I shall have occasion to make concerning the various changes in their government and customs. The laws and customs in- troduced by the barbarous nations into their new settlements, are the best com- mentary on the writings of Caesar and Tacitus ; and their observations are the best key to a perfect knowledge of these laws and customs. One circumstance, with respect to the testimony of Caesar and Tacitus, con- cerning the Germans, merits attention. Caesar wrote his brief account of their manners more than a hundred years before Tacitus composed his treatise De Moribus Germanorum. A hundred years make a considerable period in the progress of national manners, especially if, during that time, those people who are rude and unpolished have had much communication with more civilized states. This was the case with the Germans. Their intercourse with the Romans began when Caesar crossed the Rhine, and increased greatly during the interval between that event and the time when Tacitus flourished. We may accordingly observe, that the manners of the Germans, in his time, which Caesar describes, were less improved than those of the same people as delineated by Tacitus. Besides this, it is remarkable that there was a considerable differ- ence in the state of society among the different tribes of Germans. The Sui- ones were so much improved, that they began to be corrupted. Tac. cap. 44. The Fenni were so barbarous, that it is wonderful how they were able to sub- sist. Ibid. cap. 46. Whoever undertakes to describe the manners of the Ger- mans, or to found any political theory upon the state of society among them, ought carefully to attend to both these circumstances. Before I quit this subject, it may not be improper to observe, that though successive alterations in their institutions, together with the gradual progress of refinement, have made an entire change in the manners of the various people who conquered the Roman empire, there is still one race of men nearly in the same political situation with theirs, when they first settled in their new con- quests; I mean the various tribes and nations of savages in North America. It cannot then be considered either as a digression, or as an improper indul- gence of curiosity, to inquire whether this similarity in their politieal state has occasioned any resemblance between their character and manners. If the likeness turns out to be striking, it is a stronger proof that a just account has been given of the ancient inhabitants of Europe, than the testimony even of Caesar or Tacitus. • 1. The Americans subsist chieflv bv hunting and fishing. Some tribe* Vol. H.— 64 506 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. negloct agriculture entirely. Among those who cultivate some small spot near their huts, that, together with all works of labour, is performed by the women. P. Charlevoix Journal Historique d'un Voyage de l'Amerique, 4to. Par. 1774. p. 334. In such a state of society, the common wants of men being few, and their mutual dependence upon each other small, their union is extremely im- perfect and feeble, and they continue to enjoy their natural liberty almost un- impaired. It is the first idea of an American, that every man is born free and independent, and that no power on earth hath any right to diminish or circum- scribe his natural liberty. There is hardly any appearance of subordination either in civil or domestic government. Every one does what he pleases. A father and mother live with their children, like persons whom chance has brought together, and whom no common bond unites. Their manner of edu- cating their children is suitable to this principle. They never chastise or punish them, even during their infancy. As they advance in years, they continue to be entirely masters of their own actions, and seem not to be conscious of being responsible for any part of their conduct. Id. p. 272, 273. 2. The power of their civil magistrates is extremely limited. Among most of their tribes, the sachem or chief is elective. A council of old men is chosen to assist him, without whose advice he determines no affair of importance. The sachems neither possess nor claim any great degree of authority. They propose and entreat, rather than command. The obedience of their people is altogether voluntary. Ibid. p. 266. 268. 3. The savages of America engage in their military enterprises, not from constraint, but choice. When war is resolved, a chief arises, and offers himself to be the leader. Such as are willing (for they compel no person) stand up one after another, and sing their war song. But if, after this, any of these should refuse to follow the leader to whom they have engaged, his lite would be in danger, and he would be considered as the most infamous of men. Id. p. 217, 218. 4. Such as engage to follow any leader, expect to be treated by him with great attention and respect ; and he is obliged to make them presents of considerable value. Id. p. 218. 5. Among the Americans, the magistrate has scarcely any criminal jurisdiction. Ibid. p. 272. Upon receiving any injury, the person or family offended may inflict what punishment they please on the person who was the author of it. Ibid, p. 274. Their resentment and desire of vengeance are excessive and implacable. Tune can neither extinguish «or abate it. It is the chief inheritance parents leave to their children ; it is transmitted from generation to generation, until an occasion be found of satisfying it. Ibid. p. 309. Sometimes, however, the offended party is appeased. A compensation is paid for a murder that has heen committed. The relations of the deceased receive it ; and it consists most commonly of a captive taken in war, who, being substituted in place of the person who was murdered, assumes his name, and is adopted into his family. Ibid. p. 274. The resemblance holds in many other particulars. It is sufficient for my purpose to have pointed out the similarity of those great features which distinguish and characterize both people. Bochart, and other philologists of the last century, who, with more erudition than science, endeavoured to trace the migration of various nations, and who were apt, upon the slightest ap- pearance of resemblance, to find an affinity between nations far removed from each other, and to conclude that they were descended from the same ancestors, would hardly have failed, on viewing such an amazing similarity, to pronounce with confidence, " That the Germans and Americans must be the same people." But a philosopher will satisfy himself with observing, " That the characters of nations depend on the state of society in which they live, and on the political institutions established among them ; and that the human mind, whenever it is placed in the same situation, will, in ages the most distant, and in countries the most remote, assume the same form, and be distinguished by the same manners." I have pushed the comparison between the Germans and Americans no far- ther than was necessary for the illustration of my subject. I do not pretend that the state of society in the two countries was perfectly similar in every respect. Many of the German tribes were more civilized than the Americans. Some of them were not unacquainted with agriculture ; almost all of them had flocks of tame cattle, and depended upon them for the chief part of their PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 597 subsistence. Most of the American tribes subsist by hunting, and are in a ruder and more simple state than the ancient Germans. The resemblance, however, between their condition, is greater, perhaps, than any that history affords an opportunity of observing between any two races of uncivilized peo- ple, and this has produced a surprising similarity of manners. Note [7], Page 12. The booty gained by an army belonged to the army. The king himself had no part of it but what he acquired by lot. A remarkable instance ot' this oc- curs in the history of the Franks. The army ot ( lovis, the founder ot the Frencli monarchy, having plundered a church, carried off, among other sacred utensils, a vase of extraordinary size and bcauiy. The bishop sent deputies to Clovis, beseeching him to restore the vase, that it might be again employed in the sacred services to which it had been consecrated. Clovis desired the deputies to follow him to Soissons, as the booty was to be divided in that place, and promised, that if the lot should give him the disposal of the vase, he would grant what the bishop desired. When he came to Soissons, and all the booty was placed in one great heap, in the middle of the army, Clovis en- treated, that before making the division, they would give him that vase over and above his share. All appeared willing to gratify the king, and to comply with his request, when a fierce and haughty soldier lifted up his battle-axe, and striking the vase with the utmost .violence, cried out with a loud voice, " You shall receive nothing here but that to which the lot gives you a right." Gre- gor. Turon. Histor. Francorum, lib. ii. c. 27. p. 70. Par. 1610. Note [8]. Page 13. The history of the establishment and progress of the feudal system is an interesting object to all the nations of Europe. In some countries, their juris- prudence and laws are still in a great measure feudal. In others, many forms and practices established by custom, or founded on statutes, took their rise from the feudal law, and cannot be understood without attending to the ideas peculiar to it. Several authors of the highest reputation for genius and erudi- tion, have endeavoured to illustrate this subject, but still many parts of it are obscure. I shall endeavour to trace, with precision, the progress and variation of ideas concerning property in land among the barbarous nations; and shall attempt to point out the causes which introduced these changes, as well as the effects which followed upon them. Property in land seems to have gone through four successive changes among the people who settled in the various provinces of the Roman empire. I. While the barbarous nations remained in their original countries, their property in land was only temporary, and they had no certain limits to their possessions. After feeding their flocks in one great district, they removed with them, and with their wives and families, to another ; and abandoned that like- wise in a short time. They were not, in consequence of this imperfect species of property, brought under any positive or formal obligation to serve the com- munity ; all their services were purely voluntary. Every individual was at liberty to choose how far he would contribute towards carrying on any military enterprise. If he followed a leader in any expedition, it was from attachment, not from a sense of obligation. The clearest proof of this has been produced in Note [6]. While property continued in this state, we can discover nothing that bears any resemblance to a feudal tenure, or to the subordination and military service which the feudal system introduced. II. Upon settling in the countries which they had subdued, the victorious troops divided the conquered lands. Whatever portion of them fell to a soldier, he seized as the recompense due to his valour, as a settlement acquired by hie own sword. He took possession of it as a freeman in full property. He en- joyed it during his own life, and could dispose of it at pleasure, or transmit it as an inheritance to his children. Thus property in land became fixed. It was at the same time allodial, i. e. the possessor had the entire right of property and dominion, he held of no sovereign or superior lord, to whom he 9 as bound to do homage and perform service. But as these new proprietors were in some danger (as has been observed in the text1) of being disturbed by the remainder o08 PHOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. of the ancient inhabitants, and in still greater danger of being attacked by suc- cessive colonies of barbarians as fierce and rapacious as themselves, they saw the necessity of coming under obligations to defend the community, more ex- plicit than those to which they had been subject in their original habitations. On this account, immediately upon their fixing in their new settlements, every freeman became bound to take arms in defence of the community, and, if he refused or neglected so to do, was liable to a considerable penalty. 1 do not mean that any contract of this kind was formally concluded, or mutually rati- fied by any legal solemnity. It was established by tacit consent, like the other compacts which hold society together. Their mutual security and preservation made it the interest of all to recognise its authority, and to enforce the obser- vation of it. We can trace back this new obligation on the proprietors of land to a very early period iti the history of the Franks. Chilperic, who began his reign A. D. 562, exacted a fine, bannos jussit exigi, from certain persons who had refused to accompany him in an expedition. Gregor. Turon. lib. v. c. 26. p. 211. Childebert, who began his reign A. D. 576, proceeded in the same manner against others who had been guilty of a like crime. Id. lib. vii. c. 42. p. 342. Such a fine could not have been exacted while property continued in its first state, and military service was entirely voluntary. Charlemagne or- dained, that every freeman who possessed five mansi, i. e. sixty acres of land in property, should march in person against the enemy. Capitul. A. D. 807. Louis le Debonnaire, A. D. 815, granted lands to certain Spaniards, who tied from the Saracens, and allowed them to settle in his territories, on condition that they should serve in the army like other freemen. Capitul. vol. i. p. 500. By land possessed in property, which is mentioned in the law of Charlemagne, we are to understand, according to the style of that age, allodial land ; alodes and proprietiis, alodum and proprium being words perfectly synonymous. Du Cange, voce Alodis. The clearest proof of the distinction between allodial and beneficiary possession, is contained in two charters published by Muratori, by which it appears, that a person might possess one part of his estate as allodial, which he could dispose of at pleasure, the other as a benejicium, of which he had only the usufruct, the property returning to the superior lord on his demise. Antiq. ltal. medii aevi, vol. i. p. 559. 565. The same distinction is pointed out in a Capitulare_ of Charlemagne, A. D. 812, edit. Baluz. vol. i. p. 491. Count Everard, who married a daughter of Louis le Debonnaire, in the curious testament, by which he disposes of his vast estate among his chil- dren, distinguishes between what he possessed proprietute, and what he held benejicio; and it appears that the greater part was allodial, A. D. 837. Aub. Mira;i Opera Diplomatica, Lovan. 1723. vol. i. p. 19. In the same manner Liber homo is commonly opposed to Vassus or Vassallus ; the former denotes an allodial proprietor, the latter one who held of a superior. These-/rce men were under an obligation to serve the state ; and this duty was considered as so sacred, that freemen were prohibited from entering into holy orders unless they had obtained the consent of the sovereign. The reason given for this in the statute is remarkable, " For we are informed that some do so, not so much out of devotion, as in order to avoid that military service which they are bound to perform." Capitul. lib. i. $ 114. If, upon being sum- moned into the field, any freeman refused to obey, a full Herebannum, i. e. a fine of sixty crowns, was to be exacted from him according to the law- of the Franks. Capit. Car. Magn. ap. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. 14. i 13. p. 539. This expression, according to the law of the Franks, seems to imply, that both the obligation to serve, and the penalty on those who disregarded it, were coeval with the laws made by the Franks at their first settlement in Gaul. This fine was levied with such rigour, " That if any person convicted of this crime was insolvent, he was reduced to servitude, and continued in that state until such time as his labour should amount to the value of the herebannum.''1 Ibid. The emperor Lotharius rendered the penalty still more severe ; and if any person possessing such an extent of property as made it incumbent on him to take the field in person, refused to obey the summons, all his goods were declared to be forfeited, and he himself might be punished with banishmen.. Murat. Script. Ital. vol. i. pars ii. p. 153. HI. Property in land having thus become fixed, and subject to military ser- PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 509 vice, another change was introduced, though slowly, and step by step. We learn from Tacitus, that the chief men among the Germans endeavoured to attach to their persons and interests certain adherents whom he calls Comiles. These fought under their standard, and followed them in all their enterprises. The same custom continued among them in their new settlements and those attached or devoted followers were called Jideles, antrustiones, homines in truste Dominica, leudes. Tacitus informs us, that the rank of a Comes was deemed honourable ; De Morib. Germ. c. 13. The composition, which is the standard by which we must judge of the rank and condition of persons in the middle ages, paid for the murder of one in truste Dominica, was triple to that paid for the murder of a freeman. Leg. Salicor. Tit. 44. } 1, 2. While the Germans remained in their own country, they courted the favour, of these Comites, by presents of arms and horses, and by hospitality. See Note VI. As long as they had no fixed property in land, these were the only gifts that they could bestow, and the only reward which their followers desired. But upon their settling in the countries which they conquered, and when the value of property came to be understood among them, instead of those slight presents, the kings and chieftains bctowed a more substantial recompense in land on their adhe- rents. These grants were called benejicia, because they were gratuitous dona- tions ; and honores, because they were regarded as marks of distinction. What were the services originally exacted in return for these benejicia cannot be de- termined with absolute precision; because there are no records so ancient. When allodial possessions were first rendered feudal, they were not, at once, subjected to all the feudal services. The transition here, as in all other changes of importance, was gradual. As the great object of a feudal vassal was to ob- tain protection, when allodial proprietors first consented to become vassals of any powerful leader, they continued to retain as much of their ancient inde- pendence as was consistent with that new relation. The homage which they did to the superior of whom they chose to hold, was called homagium planum, and bound them to nothing more than fidelity, but without any obligation either of military service, or attendance in the courts of their superior. Of this homagium planum some traces, though obscure, may still be discovered. Brus- sel, torn. i. p. 97. Among the ancient writs published by D. D. De Vic and Vaisette hist, de Lanqued. are a great many which they call komagia. They seem to be an intermediate step between the homagium planum mentioned by Brussel, and the engagement to perform complete feudal service. The one party promises protection, and grants certain castles or lands ; the other engages to defend the person of the grantor, and to assist him likewise La defending his property as often as he shall be summoned to do so. But these engagements are accompanied with none of the feudal formalities, and no mention is made of any of the other feudal services. They appear rather to be a mutual contract between equals, than the engagement of a vassal to perform services to a superior lord. Preuves de THist. de Lang. torn. ii. 173. et passim. As soon as men were accustomed to these, the other feudal services were gradually introduced. M. de Montosquieu considers these benejicia as fiefs, which originally subjected those who held them to military service. L 'Esprit des Loix, 1. xxx. c. 3. 16. M. TAbbe de Mably contends that such as held these were at first subjected to no other service than what was incumbent on every freeman. Observations sur THistoire de France, i. 356. But, upon comparing their proofs and reasonings and conjectures, it seems to be evident, that as every freeman, in consequence of his allodial pro- perty, was bound to serve the community under a severe penalty, no good reason can be assigned for conferring these benejicia, if they did not subject such as received them to some new obligation. Why should a king have stripped him- self of his domain, if he had not expected that, by parcelling it out, he might acquire a right to services, to which he had formerly no title ? We may then warrantably conclude, " That as allodial pro erty subjected those who pos- sessed it to serve the community, so benejicia subjected such as held them to personal service and fidelity to him from whom they received these lands." Those benejicia were granted originally only during pleasure. No circumstance relating to the customs of the middle ages is better ascertained than this ; and innumerable proofs of it might be added to those produced in L'Esprit des Loix. 1. xxx. c. 16. and by Du Cange, voc. Benejicium etfeudttm. 510 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. IV. But the possession of benefices did not continue long in this state. A precarious tenure during pleasure was not sufficient to satisfy such as held lands, and by various means they gradually obtained a confirmation of their benefices during life. Feudor. lib. tit. i. Du Cange produces several quotations from ancient charters and chronicles in proof of this ; Glos. voc. Beneficium. After this it was easy to obtain or extort charters rendering beneficta hereditary, first in the direct line, then in the collateral, and at last in the female line. Leg. Longob. lib. iii. tit. 8. Du Cange, voc. Beneficium. It is no easy matter to fix the precise time when each of these changes took place. M. TAb. Mably conjectures, with some probability, that Charles Martel first introduced the practice of granting benejicia for life ; Observat. torn. i. p. 103. 160 ; and that Louis le Debonnaire was among the first who rendered them hereditary, is evident from the authorities to which he refers ; Id. 429. Mabillon, however, has published a placitum of Louis le Debonnaire, A. D. 860, by which it appears that he still continued to grant some beneficta only during life. De Re Diplomatica, lib. vi. p. 353. In the year 889, Odo king of France granted lands to Ricabodo, fideli suo, jure beneficiario et fructuaAo, during his own life ; and if he should die, and a son were born to him, that right was to continue during the life of his son. Mabillon ut supra, p. 556. This was an intermediate step between fiefs merely during life, and fiefs hereditary to per- petuity. While benejicia continued under their first form, and were held only during pleasure, he who granted them not only exercised the dominium or pre- rogative of superior lord, but he retained the property, giving his vassal only the usufruct. — But under the latter form, when they became hereditary, although feudal lawyers continued to define a benejicium agreeably to its original nature, the property was in effect taken out of the hands of the superior lords, and lodged in those of the vassal. As soon as the reciprocal advantages of the feudal mode of tenure came to be understood by superiors as well as vassals, that species of holding became so agreeable to both, that not only lands, but casual rents, such as the profits of a toll, the fare paid at ferries, &c. the sala- ries or perquisites of offices, and even pensions themselves, were granted and held as fiefs ; and military service was promised and exacted on account of these. Morice mem. pour servir de preuves a l'hist. de Bretagne, torn. ii. 78. 690. Brussel, torn. i. p. 41. How absurd soever it may seem to grant or to hold such precarious and casual property as a fief, there are instances of feudal tenures still more singular. The profits arising from the masses said at an altar were properly an ecclesiastical revenue, belonging to the clergy of the church or monastery which performed that duty ; but these were sometimes seized by the powerful barons. In order to ascertain their right to them, they held them as fiefs of the church, and parcelled them out in the same manner as other property to their sub-vassals. Bouquet, recueil des hist. vol. x. 238. 480. The same spirit cf encroachment which rendered fiefs hereditary, led the nobles to extort from their sovereigns hereditary grants of offices. Many of the great offices of the crown became hereditary in most of the kingdoms in Europe ; and so conscious were monarchs of this spirit of usurpation among the nobility, and so solicitous to guard against it, that on some occa- sions, they obliged the persons whom they promoted to any office of dignity, to grant an obligation, that neither they nor their heirs should claim it as belonging to them by hereditary right. A remarkable instance of this is pro- duced, Mem. de l'Acad. des Inscript. torn. xxx. p. 595. Another occurs in the Thesaur. anecdot. published by Martene and Durand, vol. i. p. 873. — This re- volution in property occasioned a change corresponding to it in political govern- ment ; the great vassals of the crown, as they acquired such extensive pos- sessions, usurped a proportional degree of power, depressed the jurisdiction of the crown, and trampled on the privileges of the people. It is on account of this connection, that it becomes an object of importance in history to trace the progress of feudal property ; for upon discovering in what state property was at any particular period, we may determine with precision what was the degree of power possessed by the king or by the nobility at that juncture. One circumstance more, with respect to the changes which property under- went, deserves attention. I have shown, that when the various tribes of bar- barians divided their conquests in the fifth and sixth centuries, the property which they acquired was allodial : but in several parts of Europe, property PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 511 had become almost entirely feudal by the beginning of the tenth century. The former species of property seems to bo so much better and more desirable than the latter, that such a change appears surprising, especially when we are in- formed that allodial property was frequently converted into feudal, by a volun- tary deed of the possessor. The motives which determined them to a choice so repugnant to the ideas of modem times concerning property, have been inves- tigated and explained by M. de Montesquieu, with his usual discernment and accuracy, lib. xxxi. c. 8. The most considerable is that of which we have a hint in Lambertus Ardensis, an ancient writer quoted by Du Cange, voce Alodis. In those times of anarchy and disorder which became general in Europe after the death of Charlemagne, when there was scarcely any union among the different membersof the community, and individuals were exposed,single andundefended by government, to rapine and oppression, it became necessary for every man to have a powerful protector, under whose banner he might range himself, and obtain security against enemies whom singly he could not oppose. For this reason he relinquished his allodial independence, and subjected himself to the feudal services, that he might find safety under the patronage of some respecta- ble superior. In some parts of Europe, this change from allodial to feudal property became so general, that he who possessed land had no longer any liberty of choice left. He was obliged to recognise some liege lord, and to hold of him. Thus Beaumanoir informs us, that in the counties of Clermont and Beauvois, if the lord or count discovered any lands within his jurisdiction, for which no service was performed, and which paid to him no taxes or cus- toms, he might instantly seize it as his own ; for, says lie, no man can hold allodial property. Coust. ch. 24. p. 123. Upon the same principle is founded a maxim, which has at length become general in the law of France, Nulle terre. sans Seigneur. In other provinces of France, allodial property seems to have remained longer unalienated, and to have been more highly valued. A great number of charters, containing grants, or sales, or exchanges of allodial lands in the province of Languedoc, are published. Hist, gener. de Langued. par. D. D. De Vic et Vaisette, torn. ii. During the ninth, tenth, and great part of the eleventh century, the property in that province seems to have been entirely allodial ; and scarcely any mention of feudal tenures occurs in the deeds of that country. The state of property, during these centuries, seems to have been perfectly similar in Catalonia and the country of Roussillon, as appears from the original charters published in the Appendix to Petr. de la Marca's treatise de Marca sive limite Hispanico. Allodial property seems to have con- tinued in the Low-Countries to a period still later. During the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, this species of property seems to have been of considerable extent. Miraei opera diplom. vol. i. 34. 74, 75. 83. 296. 817. 842. 847. 578. Some vestiges of allodial property appear there as late as the fourteenth century. Ibid. 218. Several facts which prove that allodial pro- perty subsisted in different parts of Europe long after the introduction of feudal tenures, and which tend to illustrate the distinction between these two difl'erent species of possession, are produced by M. Houard, Anciennes Loix des Fran- cois, conserves dans les Coutumes Angloises, vol. i. p. 192, &c. The notions of men with respect to property vary according to the diversity of their under- standings, and the caprice of their passions. At the same time that some persons were fond of relinquishing allodial property, in order to hold it by feudal tenure, others seem to have been solicitous to convert their fiefs into al- lodial property. An instance of this occurs in a charter of Louis le Debonnaire, published by Eckhard, Commentarii de rebus Francise Orientalis, vol. ii. p. 885. Another occurs in the year 1299, Reliquiae MSS. omnis aevi, by Ludwig, vol. i. p. 209 ; and even one as late as the year 1337, ibid. vol. vii. p. 40. The same thing took place in the Low-Countries. Mirffii oper. 1. 52. In tracing these various revolutions of property, I have hitherto chiefly con- fined myself to what happened in France, because the ancient monuments of that nation have either been more carefully preserved, or have been more clearly illustrated than those of any people in Europe. In Italy, the same revolutions happened in property, and succeeded each other in the same order. There is some ground, however, for conjecturing that, allodial property continued longer in estimation among the Italians, than 512 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. among the French. It appears, that many of the charters granted by the em- perors in the ninth century, conveyed an allodial right to land. Murat. Antiq. med. aevi, v. i. p. 575, &c. But in the eleventh century we find some examples of persons who resigned their allodial property, and returned it back as a feu- dal tenure. Id. p. 610, &c. Muratori observes, that the word feudum, which came to be substituted in place of beneficvum, does not occur in any authentic charter previous to the eleventh century. Id. 594. A charter of king Robert of France, A. D. 1008, is the earliest deed in which I have met with the word feudum. Bouquet recueil des historiens de Gaule et de la France, torn. x. p. 593. b. This word occurs indeed in an edict, A. D. 790, published by Brussel, vol. i. p. 77. But the authenticity of that deed has been called in question, and perhaps the frequent use of the word feudum in it is an additional reason for doing so. The account which I have given of the nature both of allodial and feudal possessions receives some confirmation from the etymology of the words themselves. Alode or allodium is compounded of the German particle an and lot, i. e. land obtained by lot. Wachteri Glossar. Germanicum, voc. Allodium, p. 35. It appears from the authorities produced by him, and by Du Cange, voc. Sort, that the northern nations divided the lands which they had conquered in this manner. Feodum is compounded of od possession or estate, and feo wages, pay ; intimating that it was stipendary, and granted a recom- pense for service. Wachterus, ibid. voc. Feodum, p. 441. The progress of the feudal system among the Germans was perfectly similar to that which we have traced in France. But as the emperors of Germany, especially after the Imperial crown passed from the descendants of Charlemagne to the house of Saxony, were far superior to the contemporary monarchs of France in abilities, the Imperial vassals did not aspire so early to independence, nor did they so soon obtain the privilege of possessing their benefices by heredi- tary right. According to the compilers of the Libri Feudorum, Conrad II. or the Salic, was the first emperor who rendered fiefs hereditary. Lib. i. tit. i. Conrad began his reign A. D. 1024. Ludovicus Pius, under whose reign grants of hereditary fiefs were frequent in France, succeeded his father A. D. 314. Not only was this innovation so much later in being introduced among the vassals of the German emperors, but even after -Conrad had established it, the law continued favourable to the ancient practice ; and unless the charter of the vassal bore expressly that the fief descended to his heirs, it was presumed to be granted only during life. Lib. feud. ibid. Even after the alteration made by Conrad, it was not uncommon in Germany to grant fiefs only for life ; a charter of this kind occurs as late as the year 1376. Charta ap. Boehmer. Princip. Jur. feud. p. 361. The transmission of fiefs to collateral and female heirs, took place very slowly among the Germans. There i6 extant a charter, A. D. 1201, conveying the right of succession to females, but it is granted as an extraordinary mark of favour, and in reward of uncommon services. Boehmer. ibid. p. 365. In Germany, as well as in France and Italy, a con- siderable part of the lands continued to be allodial long after the feudal mode of tenure was introduced. It appears from the Codex Diplomaticus Monasterii Buch, that a great part of the lands in the Marquisatc of Misnia was still allodial as late as the thirteenth century. No. 31. 36, 37. 46, &c. ap. Scriptores hist. German, cura Schoetgenii et Kreysigii. Altenb. 1755. vol. ii. 183, &c. Allodial property seems to have been common in another district of the same province, during the same period. Reliquiae Diplomaticae Sanctimonial. Beutiz. No. 17. 36. 58. ibid. 374, &e. Note [9]. Page 13. As I shall have occasion, in another Note, to represent the condition of that part of the people who dwelt in cities, I will confine myself in this to considei the state of the inhabitants of the country. The persons employed in culti- vating the ground during the ages under review may be divided into three classes ; 1. servi or slaves. This seems to have been the most numerous class, and consisted either of captives taken in war, or of persons the property in whom was acquired in some one of the various methods enumerated by Du Cange, voc. Servus,x. 6. p. 447. The wretched condition of this numerous race of men will appear from several circumstances'. 1. Their masters had PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. MS absolute dominion over their persons. They had the power of punishing their slaves capitally, without the intervention of any judge. This dangerous right ihey possessed not only in the more early periods, when their manners were. fierce, but it continued as late as the twelfth century. Joach. Potgiesserus de statu servoruni. Lemgov. 1737. 4to. lib. ii. cap. i. sect. 4. 10. 13. 24. Even nfter this jurisdiction of masters came to be restrained, the life of a slave was deemed to be of so little value, that a very slight compensation atoned for taking it away. Idem, lib. iii. c. 6. If masters had power over the lives of their slaves, it is evident that almost no bounds would be set to the rigour of the punishments which they might inflict upon them. The codes of ancient. Jaws prescribed punishments for the crimes of slaves different from those which were inflicted on free men. The latter paid only a fine or compensation ; the former were subjected to corporal punishments. The cruelty of these was in many instances excessive. Slaves might be put to the rack on very slight occasions. The laws with respect to these points are to be found in Potgies- serus, lib. iii. cap. 7. and are shocking to humanity. 2. If the dominion of masters over the lives and persons of their slaves was thus extensive, it was no .'ess so over their actions and property. They were not originally permitted to marry. Male and female slaves were allowed and even encouraged to cohabit, together. But this union was not considered as a marriage, it was called con- tubernium, not nuptia, or malrimonium. Potgiess. lib. ii. c. ii. sect. 1. This notion was so much established, that, during several centuries after the bar- barous nations embraced the Christian religion, slaves, who lived as husband and wife, were not joined together by any religious ceremony, and did not receive the nuptial benediction from a priest. Ibid. sect. 10, 11. When tliib i onjunction between slaves came to be considered as a lawful marriage, they were not permitted to marry without the consent of their master ; and such as ventured to do so, without obtaining that, were punished with great severity, and sometimes were put to death. Potgiess. ibid. sect. 12, &c. Gregor. Turon. Hist. lib. v. c. 3. When the manners of the European nations became more gentle, and their ideas more liberal, slaves who married without their master's consent were subjected only to a fine. Potgiess. ibid. sect. 20. Du Cange Gloss, voc. Forimiaritagium. 3. All the children of slaves were in the same condition with their parents, and became the property of the master. Du Cange Gloss, voc. Servus, vol. vi. 450. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. i. 766. 4. Slaves were so entirely the property of their masters, that they could sell them at pleasure. While domestic slavery continued, property in a slave was sold in the same manner with that which a person had in any other moveable. Afterwards slaves became adscripti gkba>, and were conveyed by sale, together with the farm or estate to which they belonged. Potgiesserus has collected the laws and charters which illustrate this well-known circumstance in the con- dition of slaves. Lib. ii. c. 4. 5. Slaves had a title to nothing but subsistence and clothes from their master ; all the profits of their labour accrued to him. If a master, from indulgence, gave bis slaves any peeulium, or fixed allowance for their subsistence, they had no right of property in what they saved out of that. All that they accumulated belonged to their master. Potgiess. lib. ii. c. 10. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. i. 768. Du Cange, voc. Servm, vol. vi. p. 451, Conformably to the same principle, all the effects of slaves belonged to their master at their death, and they could not dispose of them by testament. Pot- giess. lib. ii. c. 11. 6. Slaves were distinguished from free men by a peculiar dress. Among all the barbarous nations, long hair was a mark of dignity and of freedom; slaves were for that reason obliged to shave their heads; and by this distinction, how indifferent soever it may be in its own nature, they were re- minded every moment of the inferiority of their condition. Potgies. lib. iii. c. 4. For the same reason it was enacted in the laws of almost all the nations of Europe, that no slave should be admitted to give evidence against a free man in a court of justice. Du Cange, voc. Servus, vol. vi. p. 451. Potgiess. lib. iii. c. 3. 2. Villani. They were likewise adscripti gtefa or villff, from which they de- rived their name, and were transferable along with it. Du Cange, voc. Fillanus. But in this they differed from slaves, that they paid a fixed rent to their master for the land which they cultivated, and, after paying that, all the fruits of their labour and industry belonged to themselves in property. This distinction i? Vot. II.— 65 SI* PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. marked by Pierre de Fontain's Conseil. Vie de St. Louis par Joinville, p. 119. edit, de Du Cange. Several cases decided agreeably to this principle are mentioned by Murat. ib. p. 773. 3. The last class of persons employed in agriculture were free men. These are distinguished by various names among the writers of the middle ages, Arimanni, conditionalts, originarii, tributales, &cc. These seem to have been persons who possessed some small allodial property of their own, and besides that, cultivated some farm belonging to their more wealthy neighbours, for which they paid a fixed rent ; and bound themselves likewise to perform seve- ral small services in prato vel in messe, in aralura vel in vinea, such as ploughing a certain quantity of their landlord's ground, assisting him in harvest and vintage work, &c. The clearest proof of this may be found in Muratori, v. i. p. 712. and in Du Cange under the respective words above mentioned. 1 have not been able to discover whether these arimanni, &c. were removable at pleasure, or held their farms by lease for a certain number of years. The former, if we may judge from the genius and maxims of the age, seems to be most probable. These persons, however, were considered as free men in the most honourable sense of the word ; they enjoyed all the privileges of that condition, and were even called to serve in war ; an honour to which no slave was admitted. Murat. Antiq. vol. i. p. 743. vol. ii. p. 446. This account of the condition of these three different classes of persons, will enable the reader to apprehend the full force of an argument which I shall produce in confirma- tion of what I have said in the text concerning the wretched state of the peo- ple during the middle ages. Notwithstanding the immense difference between the first of these classes and the third, such was the spirit of tyranny whicli prevailed among the great proprietors of lands, and so various their opportu- nities of oppressing those who were settled on their estates, and of rendering their condition intolerable, that many free men, in despair renounced their liberty, and voluntarily surrendered themselves as slaves to their powerful masters. This they did, in order that their masters might become more im- mediately interested to afford them protection, together with the means of subsisting themselves and their families. The forms of such a surrender, or obnoxiatio, as it was then called, are preserved by Marculfus, lib. ii. c. 28 ; and by the anonymous author published by M. Bignon, together with the collection of formula compiled by Marculfus, c. 16. In both, the reason given for the obnoxiatio, is the wretched and indigent condition of the person who gives up his liberty. It was still more common for free men to surrender their liberty to bishops or abbots, that they might partake of the security which the vassals and slaves of churches and monasteries enjoyed, in consequence of the super- stitious veneration paid to the saint under whose immediate protection they were supposed to be taken. Du Cange, voc. Oblatus, vol. iv. p. 1286. That condition must have been miserable indeed, which could induce a free man voluntarily to renounce his liberty, and to give up himself as a slave to the disposal of another. The number of slaves in every nation of Europe was immense. The greater part of the inferior class of people in France were reduced to this state at the commencement of the third race of kings. L/Espr. des Loix. liv. xxx. c. 11. The same was the case in England. Brady Pref. to Gen. Hist. Many curious facts, with respect to the ancient state of villains^ or slaves in England, are published in Observations on the Statutes, chiefly the more ancient, third edit. p. 269, &c. Note [10]. Page 14. Innumerable proofs of this might be produced. Many charters, granted by- persons of the highest rank, are preserved, from which it appears that they could not subscribe their name. It was usual for persons, who could not write, to make the sign of the cross, in confirmation of a charter. Several of these remain, where kings and persons of great eminence affix signum cruris man>t propria pro ignoratione literarum. Du Cange, voc. Crux, vol. iii. p. 1191. From this is derived the phrase of signing instead of subscribing a paper. In the ninth century, Herbaud Comes Palatii, though supreme judge of the em- pire by virtue of his office, could not subscribe his name. Nouveau Traite" de Diplomatique par deux Benedictins. 4to. torn. ii. p. 422. As late as the four- PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 515 toentb century Du Guesclin, constable of France, the greatest man in the state, and one of the greatest men of his age, could neither read nor write. St. Palaye Memoires sur Pancienne Chevalerie, tit. ii. p. 82. Nor was this igno- rance confined to laymen; the greater part of the clergy was not many degrees superior to them in science. Many dignified ecclesiastics could not subscribo the canons of those councils, in which they sat as members. Nouv. Traite de Diplom. torn. ii. p. 424. One of the questions appointed by the canons to be put to persons who were candidates for orders was this, " Whether they could read the gospels and epistles, and explain the sense of them, at least literally?" Regino Prumiensis ap. Bruck. Hist. Philos. v. iii. p. 631. Alfred the Great complained, that from the Humber to the Thames there was not a. priest who understood the liturgy in his mother-tongue, or who could translate the easiest piece of Latin ; and that from the Thames to the sea, the ecclesias- tics were still more ignorant. Asserius de rebus gestis Alfredi, ap. Camdeni Anglica, &c. p. 25. The ignorance of the clergy is quaintly described by an author of the dark ages : " Potius dediti gulfe quam glossae ; potius coiligunt libras quam logunt libros ; libentius intuenturMarthamquam Marcum ; malunt legere in Salmone quam in Solomone." Alanus de Art. Predicat. ap. Lebeuf Dissert, torn. ii. p. 21. To the obvious causes of such universal ignorance, arising from the state of government and manners, from the seventh to the eleventh century, we may add the scarcity of books during that period, and the difficulty of rendering them more common. The Romans wrote their books either on parchment or on paper made of the Egyptian papyrus. The latter being the cheapest, was of course the most commonly used. But after the Saracens conquered Egypt in the seventh century, the communication between that country and the people settled in Italy, or in other parts of Europe, waB almost entirely broken oft*, and the papyrus was no longer in use among them. They were obliged, on that account, to write all their books upon parchment, and, as the price of that was high, books became extremely rare and of great value. We may judge of the scarcity of the materials for writing them from one circumstance. There still remain several manuscripts of the eighth, ninth, and following centuries, written on parchment, from which some former writing had been erased, in order to substitute a new composition in its place. In this manner it is probable that several works of the ancients perished. A book of Livy or of Tacitus might be erased, to make room for the legendary tale of a saint, or the superstitious prayers of a missal. Murat. Antiq. Ital. v. iii. p. 833. P. de Montfaucon affirms, that the greater part of the manuscripts on parchment which he has seen, those of an ancient date excepted, are written on parchment from which some former treatise had been erased. Mem. de l'Acad. des In- script. torn. ix. p. 325. As the want of materials for writing is one reason why so many of the works of the ancients have perished, it accounts likewise for the small number of manuscripts of any kind, previous to the eleventh cen- tury, when they began to multiply from a cause which shall be mentioned. Uistor. Liter, de France, torn. vi. p. 6. Many circumstances prove the scarcity of books during these ages. Private persons seldom possessed any books whatever. Even monasteries of considerable note had only one missal. Murat. Antiq. v. ix. p. 789. Lupus, abbot of Ferrieres, in a letter to the pope, A. D. i'55, beseeches him to lend him a copy of Cicero de Oratore and Quintilian's Institutions, " for,1' says he, " although we have parts of those books, there is no complete copy of them in all France." Murat. Antiq. v. iii. p. 835. The price of books became so high, that persons of a moderate fortune could not aft'ord to purchase them. The Countess of Anjou paid for a copy of the homi- lies of Haimon. bishop of Alberstadt, two hundred sheep, five quarters of wheal, and the same quantity of rye and millet. Histoire Literaire de France par des Religieux Benedictins, torn. vii. p. 3. Even so late as the year 1471, when Louis XI. borrowed the works of Rasis, the Arabian physician, from the faculty'taj of medicine in Paris, he not only deposited in pledge a considerable quantity of plate, but was obliged to procure a nobleman to join with him as surety in a deed, binding himself under a great forfeiture to restore H. Gabr. Naade Addit. a PHistoire de Louys XI. par Comines, edit, de Fresnoy, torn. iv. p. 281. Many curious circumstances, with respect to the extravagant price of books in '\\9 middle ages, are collected by that industrious compiler, to whom I refer Hi f ROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. such of my readers as deem this small branch of literary history an object c curiosity. When any person made a present of a book to a church or a monastery, in which were the only libraries during several ages, it was deemed a donative of such value that he offered it on the altar pro remedio aninuz sua, iu order to obtain the forgiveness of his sins. Murat. vol. iii. p. 836. Hist. Lit. de France, torn. vi. p. ti. N'ouv. Trait, du Diplomat, par deux Benedictins, Uo. torn. i. p. 481. In the eleventh century, the art of making paper, in thi manner now become universal, was invented ; by means of that, not only the number of manuscripts increased, but the study of the sciences was wonder- fully facilitated. Murat. ib. p. 871. The invention of the art of making paper, and the invention of the art of printing, are two considerable events in literary history. It is remarkable that the former preceded the first dawning of letters and improvement in knowledge towards the close of the eleventh century ; the latter ushered in the light which spread over Europe at the era of the reformation. Note [11]. Pack 15. All the religious maxims and practices of the dark ages are a proof of this 1 shall produce one remarkable testimony in confirmation of it, from an author canonized by the church of Rome, St. Eloy, or Egidius, bishop of Noyon, in the seventh century. " He is a good Christian who comes frequently to church; who presents the oblation which is offered to God upon the altar ; who doth not taste of the fruits of his own industry until he has consecrated a part of them to God, who, when the holy festivals approach, lives chastely even with his own wife during several days, that with a safe conscience he may draw near Uie altar of God; and who, in the last place, can repeat the Creed and the Lord's Prayer. Redeem then your souls from destruction, while you have the means in your power ; offer presents and tithes to churchmen ; come more fre- quently to church ; humbly imploro the patronage of the saints ; for, if you observe these things, you may come with security in the day of retribution to the tribunal of the eternal Judge, and say, ' Give to us, O Lord, for we have given unto thee.' " Dacherii Spicelegium Vet. Script, v. ii. p. 94. The learned and judicious translator of Dr. Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History, to one of whose additional notes I am indebted for my knowledge of this passage, sub- joins a very proper reflection : " We see here a large and ample description of a good Christian, in which there is not the least mention of the love of God, resignation to his will, obedience to his laws, or of justice, benevolence, and charity towards men." Mosh. Eccles. Hist. v. i. p. 324. Note [12]. Page 15L That infallibility in all its determinations, to which the church of Romo pretends, has been attended with one unhappy consequence. As it is impossi- ble to relinquish any opinion, or to alter any practice which has been established by authority that cannot err, all its institutions and ceremonies must be im- mutable and everlasting, and the church must continue to observe, in enlight- e.ned times, those rights which were introduced during the ages of darkness and credulity. What delighted and edified the latter, must disgust and shock the former. Many of the rites observed in the Romish church appear mani- festly to have been introduced by a superstition of the lowest and most illiberal species. Many of them were borrowed, with little variation, from the religious ceremonies established among the ancient heathens. Some were so ridiculous, that if every age did not furnish instances of the fascinating influence of super- stition, as well as of the whimsical forms which it assumes, it must appear in- credible that they should have been ever received or tolerated. In several churches of France, they celebrated a festival in commemoration of the Virgin Mary's flight into Egypt. It was called the feast of the Ass. A young girl richly dressed, with a child in her arms, was set upon an ass superbly capari- soned. The ass was led to the altar in solemn procession. High mass was said with great pomp. The ass was taught to kneel at proper places; a hymn no less childish than impious was sung in his praise ; and when the ceremony was ended, the priest, instead of the usual words with which he dismissed the people, brayed three times like an oss. and the people, instead of the usual PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 517 iesponse, We bless the Lord, brayed three times in the same manner. Du Cange, voc. Festum, v. iii. p. 424. This ridiculous ceremony was not, like the. festival of fools, and some other pageants of those ages, a mere farcical enter- tainment exhibited in a church, and mingled, as was then the custom, with an imitation of some religious rites ; it was an act of devotion, performed by the ministers of religion, and by the authority of the church. However, as tibia practice did not prevail universally in the Catholic church, its absurdity con- tributed at last to abolish it. Note [13]. Page 17. As there is no event in the history of mankind more singular than that of the crusades, every circumstance that tends to explain or to give any rational account of this extraordinary frenzy of the human mind is interesting. 1 have asserted in the text, that the minds of men were prepared gradually for the amazing effort which they made in consequence of the exhortations of Peter the hermit, by several occurrences previous to his time. A more particular detail of this curious and obscure part of history, may perhaps appear to some of my readers to be of importance. That the end of the world was expected about the close of the tenth and beginning of the eleventh century; and that this occasioned a general alarm, is evident from the authors to whom I have referred in the text. This belief was so universal and so strong, that it mingled itself with civil transactions. Many charters in the latter part of the tenth century begin in this manner : " Appropinquante mundi termino," &c. As the end of the world is now at hand, and by various calamities and judgments the signs of its approach are now manifest. Hist, de Langued. par D. D. de Vic. et. Vaisette. torn. ii. Preuves, p. 86. 89, 90. 1 17. 158, &c. One effect of this opinion was, that a great number of pilgrims resorted to Jerusalem with a resolution to die there, or to wait the coming of the Lord ; kings, earls, marquisses, bishops, and even a great number of women, besides persons'of inferior rank, flocked to the Holy Land. Glaber. Rodulph. Hist, chez Bouquet Recueil, (om. x. p. 50. 52. Another historian mentions a vast cavalcade of pilgrims who accompanied the count of Angouleme to Jerusalem in the year 1026. Chronic. Ademari, ibid. p. 162. Upon their return, these pilgrims filled Europe with lamentable accounts of the state of Christians in the Holy Land. Wil lerm. Tyr. Hist. ap. Gest. Dei per France, vol. ii. p. 636. Guibert. Abbat. Hist. ibid. vol. i. p. 476. Besides this, it was usual for many of the Christian inhabitants of Jerusalem, as well as of other cities in the East, to travel as mendicants through Europe; and by describing the wretched condition of the pro- fessors of the Christian faith under the dominion of Infidels, to extort charity, and to excite zealous persons to make some attempt in order to deliver them from oppression. Baldrici Archiepiscopi Histor. ap. Gesta Dei, &c. vol. i. p. 86. In the year 986, Gerbert, archbishop of Ravenna, afterwards Pope Silvester II. addressed a letter to all Christians in the name of the church of Jerusalem. It is eloquent and pathetic, and contains a formal exhortation to take arms against the Pagan oppressors, in order to rescue the holy city from their yoke. Gerberti Epistolte ap. Bouquet Recueil, torn. x. p. 426. In consequence of this spirited call, some subjects of the republic of Pisa equipped a fleet, and invaded the territories of the Mahometans in Syria. Murat. Script. Rer. Italic, vol. iii. p. 400. The alarm was taken in the East, and an opinion prevailed, A. D. 1010. that all the forces of Christendom were to unite, in order to drive the Maho- metans out of Palestine. Chron. Ademari ap Bouquet, torn. x. p. 152. It is evident from all these particulars, that the ideas which led the crusaders to undertake their wild enterprise did not arise, according to the description of many authors, from a sudden fit of frantic enthusiasm, but were gradually formed ; ro that the universal concourse to the standard of the cross, when erected by Urban II. will appear less surprising. If the various circumstances which I have enumerated in this note, as well as in the history, are sufficient to account for the ardour with which such vast numbers erigiitred in such a dangerous undertaking, the extensive privileges and immunities granted to the persons who assumed the cross, served to account for the long continuance of this spirit in Europe. 1. They were exempted from prosecutions on account of debt, (luring the time of their being engaged 51b PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. jii this holy service. Du Cange voc. Cruets privilegium, v . ii. p. 1194. — x.'. They were exempted from, paying interest for the money which they had borrowed, in order to fit them for this sacred warfare. Ibid. — 3. They were exempted either entirely, or at least during a certain time, from the payment of taxes. Ibid. Ordonnances des Rois de France, torn. i. p. 33.-4. They might alienate their lands without the consent of the superior lord of whom they held. Ibid. — 5. Their persons and effects were taken under the protection of St. Peter, and anathemas of the church were denounced against ail who should molest them, or carry on any quarrel or hostility against them, during their absence on account of the holy war. Du Can^e, Ibid. Guibertus Abbas up. Bongars. i. p. 480. 482. — 6. They enjoyed all the privileges of ecclesiastics, and were not bound to plead in any civil court, but were declared subject to the spiritual jurisdiction alone. Du Cange, lb. Ordon. des Rois, torn. i. p. 34. 174, — 7. They obtained a plenary remission of all their sins, and the gates of heaven were set open to them, without requiring any other proof of their penitence, but their engaging in this expedition ; and thus, by gratifying their favourite passion, the love of war, they secured to themselves civil rights of great value, and religious immunities, which were not usually obtained, but by paying large sums of money, or by undergoing painful penances. Guibert. Abbas, p. 480. When we behold the civil and ecclesiastical powers vying with each other, and straining their invention in order to devise expedients for encouraging and adding strength to the spirit of superstition, can we be sur- prised that it should become so general as to render it infamous, and a mark of cowardice, to decline engaging in the holy war ? Willierm. Tyriensis ap. Bongars, vol. ii. p. 641. The histories of the crusades, written by modern authors, who are apt to substitute the ideas and maxims of their own age in the place of those which influenced the persons whose actions they attempt to relate, convey a very imperfect notion of the spirit at that time predominant in Europe. The original historians who were animated themselves with the same passions which possessed their contemporaries, exhibit to us a moro striking picture of the times and manners which they describe. The enthusi- astic rapture with which they account for the effects of the pope's discourse in the council of Clermont; the exultation with which they mention the numbers who devoted themselves to .this holy warfare ; the confidence with which they express their reliance on the Divine protection ; the ecstasy of joy with which they describe their taking possession of the holy city, will enable us to con- ceive, in some degree, the extravagance of that zeal which agitated the minds of men with such violence, and will suggest as many singular reflections to a philosopher, as any occurrence in the history of mankind. It is unnecessary to select the particular passages in the several historians, which confirm this observation. But lest those authors may be suspected of adorning their narra- tive with any exaggerated description, I shall appeal to one of the leaders who conducted the enterprise. There is extant a letter from Stephen, the earl of Chartres and Blois, to Adela his wife, in which he gives her an account of the progress of the crusaders. He describes the crusaders as the chosen army of Christ, as the servants and soldiers of God, as men who marched under the immediate protection of the Almighty, being conducted by his hand to victory and conquest. He speaks of the Turks as accursed, sacrilegious, and devoted by Heaven to destruction : and when he mentions the soldiers in the Christian army who had died, or were killed, he is confident that their souls were admitted directly into the joys of Paradise. Dacherii Spicelegium, vol. iv. p. 257. The expense of conducting numerous bodies of men from Europe to Asia, must have been excessive, and the difficulty of raising the necessary sums must have been proportionally great, during ages when the public revenues in every nation of Europe were extremely small. Some account is preserved of the expedients employed by Humbert II. dauphin of Vienne, in order to levy the money requisite towards equipping him for the crusade, A. D. 1346. These I shall mention, as they tend to show the considerable influence which the crusades had, both on the state of property, and of civil government. 1 . He exposed to sale part of his domains ; and as the price was destined for such a sacred service, he obtained the consent of the French king, of whom PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 519 these lands were held, ratifying the alienation. Hist, de Dauphinc, torn. i. p. 332. 335. — 2. He issued a proclamation, in which he promised to grant new privileges to the nobles, as well as new immunities to the cities and towns, in his territories, in consideration of certain sums which they were instantly to pay on that account. Ibid. torn. ii. p. 512. Many of the charters of commu- nity, which 1 shall mention in another Note, were obtained in this manner. — 3. He exacted a contribution towards defraying the charges of the expedition from all his subjects, whether ecclesiastics or laymen, who did not accompany him in person to the East. Ibid. torn. i. p. 335. — 4. He appropriated a con- siderable part of his usual revenues for the support of the troops to be em- ployed in this service. Ibid. torn. ii. p. 518. — 5. He exacted considerable sums not only of the Jews settled in his dominions, but also of the Lombards and other bankers who had fixed their residence there. Ibid. torn. i. p. 338. torn. ii. 528. Notwithstanding the variety of their resources, the dauphin was involved in such expense by this expedition, that on his return he was obliged to make new demands on his subjects, and to pillage the Jews by fresh exactions. Ibid. torn. i. p. 344. 347. When the count de Foix engaged in the first crusade, lie raised the money necessary for defraying the expenses of that expedition, by alienating part of his territories. Hist, de Langued. par D. D. de Vic and Vaisette, torn. ii. p. 287. In like manner Baldwin, count of Hainault, mort- gaged or sold a considerable portion of his dominions to the bishop of Liege, A. D. 1096. Du Mont, Corps Diplomatique, torn. i. p. 59. At a later period, Baldwin, count of Namur, sold part of his estate to a monastery when he. intended to assume the cross, A. D. 1239. Mirsei Oper. i. 313. Note [14]. Page 19. The usual method of forming an opinion concerning the comparative state of manners in two different nations, is by attending to the facts which historians relate concerning each of them. Various passages might be selected from the Byzantin historians, describing the splendour and magnificence of the Greek empire. P. de Montfaucon has produced from the writings of St. Chrysostom a very full account of the elegance and luxury of the Greeks in his age. That father in his sermons enters into such minute details concerning the .manners and customs of his contemporaries, as appear strange in discourses from the pulpit. P. de Montfaucon has collected these descriptions, and ranged them under different heads. The court of the more early Greek emperors seems to have resembled those of Eastern monarchs, both in magnificence and in corrup- tion of manners. The emperors in the eleventh century, though inferior in power, did not yield to them in ostentation and splendour. Memoires do l'Acad. des Inscript. torn. xx. p. 197. But we may decide concerning the comparative state of manners in the eastern empire, and among the nations in the west of Europe by another method, which, if not more certain, is at least more striking. As Constantinople was the place of rendezvous for all the armies of the crusaders, this brought together the people of the East and West as to one great interview. There are extant several contemporary authors both among the Greeks and Latins, who were witnesses of this singular con- gress of people, formerly strangers, in a great measure, to each other. They describe with simplicity and candour, the impression which that new spectacle made upon their own minds. This may be considered as a most lively and just picture of the real character and manners of each people. When the Greeks speak of the Franks, they describe them as barbarians, fierce, illiterate, impetuous, and savage. They assume a tone of superiority, as a more polished people, acquainted with the arts both of government and of elegance, of which the other was ignorant. It is thus Anna Comnena describes the manners of the Latins, Alexias, p. 224. 231. 237. ap. Byz. Script, vol. xi. She always views them with contempt as a rude people, the very mention of whose names was sufficient to contaminate the beauty and elegance of history, p. 229. Nicetas Choniatus inveighs against them with still more violence, and gives an account of their ferocity and devastations, in terms not unlike those which preceding historians had employed in describing the incursions of the Goths and Vandals. Nicet. Chon. ap. Byz. Script, vol. iii. p. 302, &c. But on the. other hand, the Latin historians were struck with astonishment at. the magnift- 520 PROOFS AMj ILLUSTRATIONS. fence, wealth, and elegance which they discovered in the eastern empire. '• O what a vast city is Constantinople (exclaims Fulcherius Carnotensjs, when he first beheld it), and how beautiful ! How many monasteries are there in it, and how many palaces built with wonderful art! How many manufactures are there in the city amazing to behold ! It would be astonishing to relate how it abounds with all good tilings, with gold, silver, and stuffs of various kinds ; for every hour ships arrive in its port laden with all things necessary for the use of man.'' Fuicher. ap. Bongars. vol. i. p. 3o6. Willermus, archbishop of Tyre, the most intelligent historian of the crusades, seems to be fond on every occasion of describing the elegance and splendour of the court of Constanti- nople, and adds, that what he and his countrymen observed there exceeded any idea which they could have formed of it, " nostrarum enim rerum modum et dignitatem excedunt." Willerm. Tyr. ap. Bong. vol. ii. p. 657. 664. Benjamin the Jew, of Tudela. in Navarre, who began his travels A. D. 1173, appears to have been equally astonished at the magnificence of that city, and gives a de- scription of its splendour, in terms of high admiration. Benj. Tudel. chez les Voyages faits en 14, 13, &c. Siecles, par Bergeron, p. 10, &c. Guntherus, a French monk, who wrote a history of the conquest of Constantinople by the cru- saders in the thirteenth century, speaks of the magnificence of that city in the same tone of admiration : " Structuram autem sedificiorum in corpore civitatis, in ecclesiis videlicet, et turribus, et in domibus magnatorum, vix ullus vel descri- bere potest, vel credere describenti, nisi qui ea oculata fide cognoverit." Hist. Constantinop. ap. Canisii Lectiones Antiquas, fol. Antw. 1725. vol. iv. p. 14. Geoffrey de Villehardouin, a nobleman of high rank, and accustomed to all the magnificence then known in the West, describes, in similar terms, the astonishment and admiration of such of his fellow-soldiers as beheld Constantinople for the first time : " They could not have believed," says he, u that there was a city so beau- tiful and so rich in the whole world. When they viewed its high walls, its lofty Sowers, its rich palaces,its superb churches, all appeared so great, that they could haveformednoconceptionof this sovereign city, unless they had seen it with their own eyes." Histoire de la Conquete de Constant, p. 49. From these undisguised representations of their own feelings, it is evident that to the Greeks the cru- saders appeared to be a race of rude, unpolished barbarians ; whereas the latter, how much soever they might contemn the unwarlike character of the former, could not help regarding them as far superior to themselves in elegance and arts. — That the state of government and manners were much more improved in Italy than in the other countries of Europe, is evident not only from the facts recorded in history, but it appears that the more intelligent leaders of the crusaders were struck with the difference. Jacobus de Vitriaco, a French his- torian of the holy war, makes an elaborate panegyric on the character and manners of the Italians. He views them as a more polished people, and par- ticularly celebrates them for their love of liberty, and civil wisdom ; " in con- siliis circumspect!, in re sua publica procuranda diligentes et studiosi ; sibi in posterum providentes ; aliis subjici renuentes ; ante omnia libertatem sibi defendentes ; sub uno quem eligunt capitaneo, communitati suee jura et insti- tuta dictantes et similiter observantes." Histor. Hierosol. ap. Gesta Dei pep Francos, vol. ii. p. 1085. Note [15]. Page 20. The different steps taken by the cities of Italy in order to extend their power and dominions are remarkable. As soon as their liberties were established, and they began to feel their own importance, they endeavoured to render them- selves masters of the territory round their walls. Under the Romans, when cities enjoyed municipal privileges and jurisdiction, the circumjacent lands belonged to each town, and were the property of the community. But as it was not the genius of the feudal policy to encourage cities, or to show any regard for their possessions and immunities, these lands had been seized, and shared among the conquerors. The barons to whom they were granted, erected their castles, almost at the gates of the city, and exercised their jurisdiction there. Under pretence of recovering their ancient property, many of the cities in Italy attacked these troublesome neighbours, and dispossessing them, annexed their territories to the communities, and made thereby a considerable PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 621 audition to their power. Several instances of" this occur in the eleventh, and beginning of the twelfth centuries. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. iv. p. 159, &c. Their ambition increasing together with their power, the cities afterwards attacked several barons situated at a greater distance from their walls, and obliged them to engage that they would become members of their community, that they would take the oath of fidelity to their magistrates ; that they would subject their lands to all burdens and taxes imposed by common consent ; that they would defend the community against all its enemies ; and that they would reside within the city during a certain specified time in each year. Murat. ibid. 163. This subjoction of the nobility to the municipal government esta- blished in cities, became almost universal, and was often extremely grievous to persons accustomed to consider themselves as independent. Otto Frisingensis thus describes the state of Italy under Frederick I. " The cities so much affect liberty, and are so solicitous to avoid the insolence of power, that almost all of them have thrown off every other authority, and are governed by their own magistrates. Insomuch that all that country is now filled with free cities, most of which have compelled their bishops to reside within their walls, and there is scarcely any nobleman, how great soever his power may be, who is not sub- ject to the laws and government of some city." De Gestis Frider. i. Imp. lib. ii. c. 13. p. 453. In another place he observes of the Marquis of Montserrat, that he was almost the only Italian baron who had preserved his independence, and had not become subject to the laws of any city. See also Muratori Anti- chita Estensi, vol. i. p. 411, 412. That state into which some of the nobles were compelled to enter, others embraced from choice. They observed the highest degree of security, as well as of credit and estimation, which the grow- ing wealth and dominion of the great communities procured to all the members of them. They were desirous to partake of these, and to put themselves under such powerful protection. With this view they voluntarily became citizens of the towns to which their lands were most contiguous ; and abandon- ing their ancient castles, took up their residence in the cities at least during part of the year. Several deeds are still extant, by which some of the most illustrious families in Italy are associated as citizens of different cities. Murat. ibid. p. 165, &c. A charter, by which Atto de Macerata is admitted as a citizen of Osirno, A. D. 1198, in the Marcha di Ancona, is still extant. In this ho stipulates, that he will acknowledge himself to be a burgess of that community ; that he will to the utmost of his power promote its honour and welfare ; that he will obey its magistrates ; that he will enter into no leagues with its ene- mies ; that he will reside in the town during two months in every year, or for a longer time, if required by the magistrates. The community, on the other hand, take him, his family, and friends, under their protection, and engage to defend him against every enemy. Fr. Ant. Zacharias Anectoda medii cevi. Aug. Taur. 1755. fol. p. 66. This privilege was deemed so important, that not only laymen, but ecclesiastics of the highest rank, condescended to be adopted as members of the great communities, in hopes of enjoying the safety and dig- nity which that condition conferred. Murat. ibid. 179. Before the institutiou of communities, persons of noble birth had no other residence but their castles. They kept their petty courts there ; and the cities were deserted, having hardly any inhabitants but slaves, or persons of low condition. But in consequenco of the practice which J have mentioned, cities not only became more populous, but were filled with inhabitants of better rank, and a custom which still sub- sists in Italy was then introduced, that all families of distinction reside more constantly in the great towns, than is usual in other parts of Europe. As cities acquired new consideration and dignity by the accession of such citizens, they became more solicitous to preserve their liberty and independence. The em- perors, as sovereigns, had anciently a palace in almost every great city of Italy; when they visited that country they were accustomed to reside in these palaces, and the troops which accompanied them were quartered in the houses of the citizens. This the citizens deemed both ignominious and dangerous. They could not help considering it as receiving a master and an enemy within their walls. They laboured, therefore to get free of this subjection. Some cities prevailed on the emperors to engage that they would never enter their gates, but take up their residence without the walls: Chart. Hen. IV. Murat. ib. p. Vol. It— 66 S22 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 24. Others obtained the imperial license to pull down the palace situated within their liberties, on condition that they would build another in the suburbs for the occasional reception of the Emperor. Chart. Hen. IV. Murat. ib. p. 25. These various encroachments of the Italian cities alarmed the emperors, and put them on schemes for re-establishing the imperial jurisdiction over them on its ancient footing. Frederick Barbarossa engaged in this enterprise with great ardour. The free cities of Italy joined together in a general league, and stood on their defence : and after a long contest, carried on with alternate success, a solemn treaty of peace was concluded at Constance, A. D. 1183, by which all the privileges and immunities granted by former emperors to the principal cities in Italy were confirmed and ratified. Murat. Dissert. XL VIII. This treaty of Constance was considered as such an important article in the jurisprudence of the middle ages, that it is usually published together with the Libri Feudorum at the end of the Corpus Juris Civilis. The treaty secured privileges of great importance to the confederate cities, and though it reserved a considerable de- gree of authority and jurisdiction to the empire, yet the cities persevered with such vigour in their efforts in order to extend their immunities, and the con- junctures in which they made them were so favourable, that, before the con- clusion of the thirteenth century, most of the great cities in Italy had shaken off all marks of subjection to the empire, and were become independent sove- reign republics. It is not requisite that I should trace the various steps by which they advanced to this high degree of power so fatal to the empire, and so beneficial to the cause of liberty in Italy. Muratori, with his usual industry, has collected many original papers which illustrate this curious and little known part of history. Murat. Antiq. Ital. Dissert. L. See also Jo. Bapt. Villanovse Hist. Laudis Pompeii sive Lodi. in Graev. Thes. Antiquit. Ital. vol. iii. p. 888. Note [16]. Page 21. Long before the institution of communities in France, charters of immunity or franchise were granted to some towns and villages by the lords on whom they depended. But these are very different from such as became common in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. They did not erect these towns into corporations ; they did not establish a municipal government ; they did not grant them the privilege of bearing arms. They contained nothing more than a manumission of the inhabitants from the yoke of servitude ; an exemption from certain services which were oppressive and ignominious ; and the estab- lishment of a fixed tax or rent which the citizens were to pay to their lord in place of impositions which he could formerly lay upon them at pleasure. Two charters of this kind to two villages in the county of Rousillon, one in A. D. 974, the other in A. D. 1025, are still extant. Petr. de Marca, Marca, sive Limes Hispanicus, App. p. 909. 1038. Such concessions, it is probable, were not unknown in other parts of Europe, and may be considered as a step towards the more extensive privileges conferred by Louis le Gros, on the towns within his domains. The communities in France never aspired to the same independence with those in Italy. They acquired new privileges and immunities, but the right of sovereignty remained entire to the king or baron within whose territories the respective cities were situated, and from whom they received the charter of their freedom. A great number of these charters, granted both by the kings of France, and by their great vassals, are published by M. D'Achery in his Spicelegium, and many are found in the collection of the Ordonnances des Rois de France. These convey a very striking representa- tion of the wretched condition of cities previous to the institution of commu- nities, when they were subject to the judges appointed by the superior lords of whom they held, and who had scarcely any other law but their will. Each concession in these charters must be considered as a grant of some new privi- lege which the people did not formerly enjoy, and each regulation as a method of redressing some grievance under which the inhabitants of cities formerly laboured. The charters of communities contain likewise the first expedients employed for the introduction of equal laws and regular government. On both these accounts they merit particular attention, and therefore, instead of referring my readers to the many bulky volumes in which they are scattered, I shall give them n view of some of the most important articles in these char- PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 523 lers, ranged under two general heads. I. Such as respect personal safety. II. Such as respect the security of property. I. During that state of turbulence and disorder which the corruption of the. feudal government introduced into Europe, personal safety was the first and great object of every individual ; and, as the great military barons alone were able to give sufficient protection to their vassals, this was one great source of their power and authority. But, by the institution of communities, effectual provision was made for the safety of individuals, independent of the nobles. For, 1. The fundamental article in every charter was, that all the members of the community, bound themselves by an oath to assist, defend, and stand by each other against all aggressors, and that the}' should not suffer any person to injure, distress, or molest any of their fellow citizens. DAcher. Spicel. x. 642. xi. 341, &c. — 2. Whoever resided in any town which was made free, was obliged, under a severe penalty, to accede to the community, and to take part in the mutual defence of its members. D'Acher. Spic. xi. 344. — 3. The com- munities had the privilege of carrying arms ; of making war on their private enemies ; and of executing by military force any sentence which their magis- trates pronounced. D'Ach. Spicel. x. 643,644. xi. 343. — 4. The practice of making satisfaction by a pecuniary compensation for murder, assault, or other acts of violence, most inconsistent with the order of society and the safety of individuals was abolished ; and such as committed these crimes were punished capitally, or with rigour adequate to their guilt. D'Ach. xi. 362. Mirsei Opera Diplomatica, i. 292. — 5. No member of a community was bound to justify or defend himself by battle or combat ; but, if he was charged with any crime, he could be convicted only by the evidence of witnesses, and the regular course of legal proceedings. Miraeus, ibid. D'Ach. xi. 375. 349. Ordon. torn. iii. 265. — 6. If any man suspected himself to be in danger from the malice or enmity of another, upon making oath to that effect before a magistrate, the person sus- pected was bound under a severe penalty to give surety for his peaceable behaviour. D'Ach. xi. 346. This is the same species of security which is still known in Scotland under the name of Lawburrows. In France, it was first introduced among the inhabitants of communities, and having been found to contribute considerably towards personal safety, it was extended to all the other members of society. Establissemens de St. Louis, liv. i. cap. 28. ap. Du Cange Vie dc St. Louis, p. 15. II. The provisions in the charters of communities concerning the security of property, are not less considerable than those respecting personal safety. By the ancient law of France, no person could be arrested or confined in prison on account of any private debt. Ordon. des Rois de France, torn. i. p. 72 — 80. If any person was arrested upon any pretext, it was lawful to rescue him out of the hands of the officers who had seized him. Ordon. iii. p. 17. Freedom from arrest on account of debt seems likewise to have been enjoyed in other countries. Gudenus Sylloge Diplom. 473. In society, while it remained in its rudest and most simple form, debt seems to have been considered as an obligation merely personal. Men had made some progress towards refinement, before creditors acquired a right of seizing the property of their debtors in order to recover payment. The expedients for this purpose were all introduced originally in communities, and we can trace the gradual progress of them. 1. The simplest and most obvious species of security was, that the person who sold any commodity should receive a pledge from him who bought it, which he restored upon receiving payment. Of this custom there are vestiges in several charters of community. D'Ach. ix. 185. xi. 377. — 2. When no pledge was given, and the debtor became refractory or insolvent, the creditor was allowed to seize his effects with a strong hand, and by his private authority; the citizens of Paris are warranted by the royal mandate ; " ut ubicumque, et quo- cumque modo poterunt, tantum capiant, unde pecuniam sibi debitam integre of. plenarie habeant, et inde sibi invicem adjutores existant." Ordon. &c. torn. i. p. 6. This rude practice, suitable only to the violence of that which has been called a state of nature, was tolerated longer than one can conceive to be possi- ble in any society where laws and order were at all known. The ordonnanco authorizing it was issued, A. D. 1134: and that which corrects the law, and prohibits creditors from seizin? the effects of their debtors, unless bv a warrant 624 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. from a magistrate, and under his inspection, was not published until the yeap 1351. Ordon. torn. ii. p. 438. It is probable, however, that men were taught, by observing the disorders which the former mode of proceeding occasioned, to correct it in practice long before a remedy was provided by a law to that effect. Every discerning reader will apply this observation to many other customs and practices which 1 have mentioned. New customs are not always to be ascribed to the laws whicli authorize them. Tli06e statutes only give a legal sanction to such things as the experience of mankind has previously found to be proper and beneficial. — 3. As soon as the interposition of the magistrate became requisite, regular provision was made for attaching or distraining the moveable effects of a debtor ; and if his moveable were not sufficient to discharge tho debt, his immoveable property, or estate in land, was liable to the same distress, and was sold for the benefit of his creditor. D'Ach. ix. p. 184, 185. xi. p. 348 — 380. As this regulation afforded the most complete security to the creditor, it was considered as so severe, that humanity pointed out several limitations in the execution of it. Creditors were prohibited from seizing the wearing apparel of their debtors, their beds, the door of their house, their instruments of husbandry, &c. D'Ach. ix. 184. xi. 377. Upon the same principles, when the power of distraining effects became more general, the horse and arms of a gentleman could not be seized. D'Ach. ix. 185. As hunting was the favourite amusement of martial nobles, the emperor Lodovicus Pius prohibited the seiz- ing of a hawk, on account of any composition or debt. Capitul. lib. iv. sect. 21. But if the debtor had no other moveables, even these privileged articles might be seized. — 4. In order to render the security of property complete within a community, every person who was admitted a member of it, was obliged to buy or build a house, or to purchase lands within its precincts, or at least to bring into the town a considerable portion of his moveables, per qua justiciar'/, possit, si quid forte in eum querela crenerit. D'Ach. xi. 326. Ordon. i. 367. Libertates S. Georgii de Esperanchia. Hist, de Dauphine, torn. i. p. 26. — 5. That security might be as perfect as possible, in some towns, the members of the community seem to have been bound for each other. D'Ach. x. 644. — 6. All questions with respect to property were tried within the community, by magis- trates and judges whom the citizens elected or appointed. Their decisions were more equal and fixed than thejsentences which depended on the capricious and arbitrary will of a baron, who thought himself superior to all laws. D'Ach. x. 644. 646. xi. 344. et passim. Ordon. iii. 204. — 7. No member of a community could be burdened by any arbitrary tax; for the superior lord who granted the charter of community, accepted of a fixed census or duty in lieu of all demands. Ordon. torn. iii. 204. Libertates de Calma Hist, de Dauphine, torn. i. p. 19. Libert. St. Georgii de Esperanchia. ibid. p. 26. Nor could the members of a community be distressed by an unequal imposition of the sum to be levied on the community. Regulations are inserted in the charters of some commu- nities, concerning the method of determining the quota of any tax to be levied on each inhabitant. D'Ach. xi. 350. 365. St. Louis published an ordonnanco concerning this matter which extended to all the communities. Ordon. torn. i. 186. These regulations are extremely favourable to liberty, as they vest the power of proportioning the taxes in a certain number of citizens chosen out of each parish, who were bound by solemu oath to decide according to justice. — That the more perfect security of property was one great object of those who instituted communities, we learn, not only from the nature of the thing, but from the express words of several charters, of which I shall only mention that granted by Alienor queen of England and dutcliess of Guienne, to the com- munity of Poitiers, " ut sua propria melius defendere possint, et magis integre oustodire." Du Cange, voc. Comnmnia, v. ii. p. 863. — Such are some of the capital regulations established in communities during the twelfth and thir- teenth centuries. These may be considered as the first expedients for the re- establishment of law and order, and contributed greatly to introduce regular government among all the members of society. As soon as communities were instituted, high sentiments of liberty began to manifest themselves. When Humbert lord of Beaujeu, upon granting a charter of community to the town of Belleville, exacted of the inhabitants an oath of fidelity to himself and success- ore, they stipulated on their part, that he should swear to maintain them PUOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 525 franchises and liberties; and for their greater security, they obliged him to bring twenty gentlemen to take the same oath, and to be bound together with him. D'Ach. ix. 183. In the same manner the lord of Moriens in Dau- phine produced a certain number of persons as his sureties for the observation of the articles contained in the charter of community to that town. These were bound to surrender themselves prisoners to the inhabitants of Moriens, if their liege lord should violate any of their franchises, and they promised to remain in custody until lie should grant the members of the community redress. Hist, de Oauphine, torn. i. p. 17. If the mayor or chief magistrate of a. town did any injury to a citizen, he was obliged to give security for his appearance in judgment in the same manner as a private person ; arid if cast, was liable to the same penalty. D'Ach. ix. 183. These are ideas of equality uncommon in the feudal times. Communities were so favourable to freedom, that they were distinguished by the name of lAbertatts. Du Cange, v. ii. p. 863. They were at first extremely odious to the nobles, who foresaw what a check they must prove to their power and domination. Guibert abbot of Nogent calls them execrable inventions, by which, contrary to law and justice, slaves withdrew themselves from that obedience which they owed to their masters. Du Cange, ib. 862. The zeal with which some of the nobles and powerful ecclesiastics opposed the establishment of communities, and endea- voured to circumscribe their privileges, was extraordinary. A striking instance of this occurs in the contest between the archbishop of Reims, and the inhabit- ants of that community. It was- the chief business of every archbishop, during a considerable time, to abridge the rights and jurisdiction of the com- munity; and the great object of the citizens, especially when the see was vacant, to maintain, to recover, and to extend their own jurisdiction. Histoirc civile et politique do la Vilie de Reims, par M. Anquetil, torn. i. p. 287, &c. The observations which I have made concerning the lowstateof cities, and the condition of their inhabitants, are confirmed by innumerable passages in the historians and laws of the middle ages. It is not improbable, however, that some cities of the first order were in a better state, and enjoyed a superior degree of liberty. Under the Roman government, the municipal government established in cities was extremely favourable to liberty. The jurisdiction of the senate in each corporation, and the privileges of the citizens, were both extensive. There is reason to believe, that some of the greater cities which escaped the destructive rage of the barbarous nations still retained their ancient form of government, at least in a great measure. They were governed by a council of citizens, and by magistrates whom they themselves elected. Very strong pre- sumptions in favour of this opinion are produced by M. TAbbe Dc Bos, Hist. Crit. de la Mon. Franc, torn. i. p. 18, &c. torn. ii. p. 524. edit. 1742. It appears from some of the charters of community to cities, granted in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, that these only confirm the privileges possessed by the in- habitants previous to the establishment of the community. D'Acher. Spiceleg. vol. xi. p. 345. Other cities claimed their privileges, as having possessed them without interruption from the times of the Romans. Hist. Crit. de la Mon. Franc, torn. ii. p. 333. But the number of cities which enjoyed such immuni- ties was so small, as hardly in any degree to diminish the force of my con- clusions in the text. Note [17]. Page 21. Having given a full account of the establishment as well as effects of com- munities in Italy and France, it will be necessary to inquire with some attention into the progress of cities and municipal government in Germany. The ancient Germans had no cities. Even in their hamlet6 or villages, they did not build their houses contiguous to each other. Tac. de Mor. Germ. cap. 16. They considered it as a badge of servitude to be obliged to dwell in a city surrounded with walls. When one of their tribes had shaken oft' the Roman yoke, their countrymen required of them, as an evidence of their having recovered liberty, to demolish the walls of a town which the Romans had built in their country. Even the fiercost animals, said they, lose their spirit and courage when they are confined. Tac. Histor. lib. iv. c. 64. The Romans built several cities of note on the banks of the Rhine. But in all tho va,«t countries from that rivet 526 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATION. to the coasts of the Baltic, there was hardly one city previous to the ninth century of the Christian era. Conringius Exercitatio de Urbibus Germanise, Oper. vol. i. $ 25. 27. 31, &c. Heineccius differs from Conringius with respect to this. But even, after allowing to his arguments and authorities their utmost, force, they prove only, that there were a few places in those extensive regions on which some historians have bestowed the name of towns. Elem. Jur. Ger- man, lib. i. i 102. Under Charlemagne, and the emperors of his family, as the political state of Germany began to improve, several cities were founded, and men hecame accustomed to associate and to live together in one place. Char- lemagne founded two archbishoprics and nine bishoprics in the most considera- ble towns of Germany. Aub. Miraei Opera Diplomatica, vol. i. p. 16. His successors increased the number of these ; and as bishops fixed their residence in the chief town of their diocess, and performed religious functions there, that induced many people to settle in them. Conring. ibid, i 48. But Henry sur- named the Fowler, who began his reign, A. D. 920, must be considered as the great founder of cities in Germany. The empire was at that time infested by the incursions of the Hungarians and other barbarous people. In order to oppose them, Henry encouraged his subjects to settle in cities which he sur- rounded with walls strengthened by towers. He enjoined or persuaded a cer- tain proportion of the nobility to fix their residence in the towns, and thus rendered the condition of citizens more honourable than it had been formerly. Wittikindus Annal. lib. i. ap. Conring. } 82. From this period the number of cities continued to increase, and they became more populous and more wealth}7. But cities in Germany were still destitute of municipal liberty or jurisdiction. Such of them as were situated in the Imperial demesnes were subject to the emperors. Their Comiles, Missi, and other judges presided in them and dis- pensed justice. Towns situated on the estate of a baron, were part of his fief, and he or his officers exercised a similar jurisdiction in them. Conring. ibid. $ 73, 74. Heinec. Elem. Jur. Germ. lib. i. $ 104. The Germans borrowed the institution of communities from the Italians. Knipschildius Tractatus Politico- Histor. Jurid. de Civitatum Imperialium Juribus, vol. i. lib. i. cap. 5. No. 23. Frederick Barbarossa was the first emperor who, from the same political con- sideration that influenced Louis le Gros, multiplied communities in order to abridge the power of the noblos. Pfcffel Abrege de THistoire et du Droit Publique d'Allemagne, 4to. p.*297. From the reign of Henry the Fowler, to the time when the German cities acquired full possession of their immunities, various circumstances contributed to their increase. The establishment of bishoprics (already mentioned) and the building of cathedrals naturally in- duced many people to settle near the chief place of worship. It became the custom to hold councils and courts of judicature of every kind, ecclesiastical as well as civil, in cities. In the eleventh century, man}' slaves were enfran- chised, the greater part of whom settled in cities. Several mines were dis- covered and wrought in different provinces, which drew together such a con- course of people as gave rise to several cities, and increased the number of inhabitants in others. Conring. i 105. The cities began in the thirteenth century to form leagues for their mutual defence, and for repressing the dis- orders occasioned by the private wars among the barons, as well as by their exactions. This rendered the condition of the inhabitants of cities more secure than that of any other order of men, and allured many to become members of their communities. Conring. $ 94. There were inhabitants of three different ranks in the towns of Germany : the nobles, or familioe ; the citizens, or liberi ; and the artisans, who were slaves, or homines proprii. Knipschild. lib. ii. cap. 29. No. 13. Henry V., who began his reign A. D. 1106, enfranchised the slaves who were artisans or inhabitants in several towns, and gave them the rank of citizens or liberi. Pfeffel, p. 254. Knipsch. lib. ii. c. 29. No. 113. 119. Though the cities in Germany did not acquire liberty so early as those in France, they extended their privileges much farther. All the imperial and free cities, the number of which is considerable, acquired the full right of being immediate : by which term, in the German jurisprudence, we are to understand that the} are subject to the empire alone, and possess within their own precincts all the rights of complete and independent sovereignty. The various privileges ot the Imperial cities, the ereat guardians of the Germanic liberties, are enurtip PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 527 rated by Knipschild. lib. ii. The most important articles are generally known, and it would be improper to enter into any disquisition concerning minute particulars. Note [18]. Page 21. The Spanish historians are almost entirely silent concerning the origin and progress of communities in that kingdom; so that 1 cannot fix, with any degree of certainty, the time and manner of their first introduction there. It appears, however, from Mariana, vol. ii. p. 221. fol. Hag®, 1736, that in the year 1359, eighteen cities had obtained a seat in the Cortes of Castile. From the account which will be given of their constitution and pretensions, Sect. III. of this volume, it appears that their privileges and form of government were the same with those of the other feudal corporations; and this, as well as the perfect similarity of political institutions and transactions in all the feudal kingdoms, may lead us to conclude that communities were there introduced in the same manner and probably about the same time, as in the other nations of Europe. In Arragon, as I shall have occasion to observe in a subsequent note, cities seem early to have acquired extensive immunities, together with a share in the legislature. In the year 1118, the citizens of Saragossa had not only attained political liberty, but they were declared to be of equal rank with the nobles of the second class ; and many other immunities, unknown to persons in their rank of life in other parts of Europe, were conferred upon them. Zurita, Annales de Arragon, torn. i. p. 44. In England, the establishment of commu- nities or corporations was posterior to the conquest. The practice was bor- rowed from France, and the privileges granted by the crown were perfectly similar to those which I have enumerated, but as this part of history is well known to most of my readers, I shall, without entering into any critical or minute discussion, refer them to authors who have fully illustrated this inter- esting point in the English history. Brady's Treatise of Boroughs. Madox Firma Burgi, cap. i. sect. ix. Hume's History of England, vol. i. append, i. and ii. It is not improbable that some of the towns in England were formed into corporations under the Saxon kings, and that the charters granted by the kings of the Norman race were not charters of enfranchisement from a state of slavery, but a confirmation of privileges which they already enjoyed. See Lord Lyttleton's History of Henry II. vol. ii. p. 317. The English critics, however, were very inconsiderable in the twelfth century. A clear proof of this occurs in the history to which I last referred. Fitzstephen, a contemporary author, gives a description of the city of London in the reign of Henry II., and the terms in which he speaks of its trade, its wealth, and the splendour of its inhabitants, would suggest no inadequate idea of its state at present, when it is the greatest and most opulent city of Europe. But all ideas of grandeur and magnificence are merely comparative ; and every description of them in gene- ral terms is very apt to deceive. It appears from Peter of Blois, archdeacon of London, who flourished in the same reign, and who had good opportunity of being well informed, that this city, of which Fitzstephen gives such a pompous account, contained no more than forty thousand inhabitants. Ibid. 315,316. The other cities were small in proportion, and were not in a condition to extort, any extensive privileges. That the constitution of the boroughs in Scotland, in many circumstances, resembled that of the towns in France and England, is manifest from the Leges Burgorum, annexed to the Regiam Majestatum. Note [19.] Page 23. Soon after the introduction of the third estate into the national council, the spirit of liberty which that excited in France began to produce conspicuous effects. In several provinces of France, the nobility and communities formed associations, whereby they bound themselves to defend their rights and privi- leges against the formidable and arbitrary proceedings of the king. The count de Boulainvilliers has preserved a copy of one of these associations, dated in the year 1314, twelve years after the admission of the deputies from towns into the States General. Histoire de l'ancien Gouvernement de la France, torn. ii. p. 94. The vigour with which the people asserted and prepared to maintain their rights, obliged their sovereigns to respect them. Six years after this assneia- 628 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. t.ion, Philip the Long issued a writ of summons to the community of N&rbonne in the following terms: "Philip, by the grace, &c. to our well-beloved, &c. As we desire with all our heart, and above all other things, to govern our kingdom and people in peace and tranquillity, by the help of God ; and to reform our said kingdom in so far as it stands in need thereof, for the public good, and for the benefit of our subjects, who in times past have been aggrieved and oppressed in divers manners by the malice of sundry persons, as we have learned by common report, as well as by the information of good men worthy of credit, and we having determined in our counsel which wc have called to meet in our good city, &c. to give redress to the utmost of our power, by all ways and means possible, according to reason and justice, and willing that this should be done with solemnity and deliberation by the advice of the prelates, barons, and good towns of our realm, and particularly of you, and that it should be trans- acted agreeably to the will of God, and for the good of our people, therefore we command," &c. Mably, Observat. ii. App. p. 386. I shall allow these to be only the formal words of a public and legal style; but the ideas are singular, and much more liberal and enlarged than one could expect in that age. A popular monarch of Great Britain could hardly address himself to parliament, in terms more favourable to public liberty. There occurs in the history of France, a striking instance of the progress which the principles of liberty had made in that kingdom, and of the influence which the deputies of towns had acquired in the States General. During the calamities in which the war with England, and the captivity of King John, had involved France, the States General made a bold effort to extend their own privileges and jurisdiction. The regulations established by the States, held A. D. 1355, concerning the mode of levying taxes, the administration of which they vested not in the crown, but in commissioners appointed by the States ; concerning the coining of money; concerning the redress of the grievance of purveyance ; concerning the regular administration of justice ; are much more suitable to the genius of a republican government than that of a feudal monarchy. This curious statute is published, Ordon. torn. iii. p. 19. Such as have not an opportunity to con- sult that large collection, will find an abridgment of it in Hist, de France par Villaret, torn. ix. 130, or in Histoire de Boulainv. torn. ii. p. 213. The French historians represent the bishop of Laon, and Marcel provost of the merchants of Paris, who had the chief* direction of this assembly, as seditious tribunes, violent, interested, ambitious, and aiming at innovations subversive of the con- stitution and government of their country. That may have been the case, but these men possessed the confidence of the people ; and the measures which they proposed as the most popular and acceptable, as well as most likely to increase their own influence, plainly prove that, the spirit of liberty had spread wonderfully, and that the ideas which then prevailed in France concerning government were extremely liberal. The States General held at Paris, A. D. 1355, consisted of about eight hundred members, and above one half of these were deputies from towns. M. Secousse Preff. a Ordon. torn. iii. p. 48. It appears that in all the different assemblies of the States, held during the reign of John, the representatives of towns had great influence, and in every respect the third state was considered as co-ordinate and equal to either of the other two, Ibid, passim. These spirited efforts were made in France long before the House of Commons in England acquired any considerable influence in the Legisla- ture. As the feudal system was carried to its utmost height in France sooner than in England, so it began to decline sooner in the former than in the latter kingdom. In England, almost all attempts to establish or to extend the liberty of the people have been successful ; in Franco they have proved unfortunate. What were the accidental events or political causes which occasioned this differ- ence, it is not my present business to inquire. Note [20.] Page 24. In a former Note, No. 8, 1 have inquired into the condition of that part of the people which was employed in agriculture, and have represented the various hardships and calamities of their situation. When charters of liberty or manumission were granted to such persons, they contained four concessions • orrespondingr to the four capital grievances to which men in a state of servi- PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 52U tude are subject. 1. The right of disposing of their persons by sale or grant was relinquished. 2. Power was given to them of conveying their property and effects by will or any other legal deed. Or if they happened to die intes- tate, it was provided that their property should go to their lawful heirs in the same manner as the property of other persons. 3- The services and taxes which they owed to their superior or liege lord which were formerly arbitrary and imposed at pleasure, are precisely ascertained. 4. They are allowed the privilege of marrying according to their own inclination; formerly they could contract no marriage without their lord's permission, and with no person but one of his slaves. All these particulars are found united in the charter granted Habitatoribus Montis Britonis, A. D. 1376. Hist, de Dauphine, torn. i. p. 81. Many circumstances concurred with those which 1 have mentioned in the text in procuring them deliverance from that wretched state. The gentle spirit of the Christian religion ; the doctrines which it teaches, concerning the original equality of mankind ; its tenets with respect to the divine government, and the impartial eye with whicli the Almighty regards men of every condition, and admits them to a participation of his benefits, are all inconsistent with servi- tude. But in this, as in many other instances, considerations of interest, and the maxims of false policy, led men to a conduct inconsistent with their princi- ples. They were so sensible, however, of this inconsistency, that to set their fellow Christians at liberty from servitude was deemed an act of piety highly meritorious and acceptable to Heaven. The humane spirit of the Christian religion struggled long with the maxims and manners of the world, and con- tributed more than any other circumstance to introduce the practice of manu- mission. When pope Gregory the Great, who flourished towards the end of the sixth century, granted liberty to some of his slaves, he gives this reason for it, "Cum Redcmptor noster, totius conditor naturae, ad hoc propitiatus humanam carnem voluerit assumere, ut divinitatis suas gratia, dirempto (quo tenebamur captivi) vinculo, pristine nos restitueret libertati ; salubriter agitur, si homines, quos ab initio libcros natura protulit, et jus gentium jugo substi- tuit servilutis, in ea, qua nati fuerant, manumittentis beneficio, libertati red- dantur." Gregor. Magn. ap. Potgiess. lib. iv. c. i. sect. 3. Several laws or charters founded on reasons similar to this, are produced by the same author. Accordingly, a great part of the charters of manumission, previous to the reign of Louis X. are granted pro amore Dei, pro remedio animaB, et pro mercede anima?. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. i. p. 849, 850. Du Cange, voc. Manumissio. The formality of manumission was executed in a church, as a religious solemnity. The person to be set free was led round the great altar with a torch in his hand, he took hold of the horns of the altar, and there the solemn words conferring liberty were pronounced. Du Cange, ib. vol. iv. p. 467. I shall transcribe a part of a charter of manumission granted, A. D. 1056 ; both as it contains a full account of the ceremonies used in this form of manu- mission, and as a specimen of the imperfect knowledge of the Latin tongue in that barbarous age. It is granted by Willa the widow of Hugo the Duke and Marquis, in favour of Clariza, one of her slaves. " Et ideo nos Domine Wille inclite cometisse — libera et absolvo te Cleriza filia Uberto — pro timore omni- potentis Dei, et remedio luminarie anime bone^iemorie quondam supra scripto Domini Ugo gloriosissimo, ut quando ilium Dominus de hac vita migrare, jusserit, pars iniqua non abeat potestatem ullam, sed anguelus Domini nostri Jesu Christi colocare dignitur ilium inter sanctos dilectos suos ; et beatus Petrus princips apostolorum, qui habed potestatem omnium animarum ligandi et absolvendi, ut ipsi absolvat animae ejus de peccatis sui, et aperiad ilium janua paradisi ; pro eadem vero rationi, in mano mite te Benzo presbitcr, ut vadat tecum in ecclesia sancti Bartholoman apostoli ; traad de tribus vicibus circa altare ipsius ecclesiae cum csreo apprehensum in manibus tuis et manibus suis ; deinde exite ambulate in via quadrubio, ubi quatuor vie se deviduntur. Sta- timq ; pro remedio luminarie anime bone memorie quondam supra scripto Domini Ugo et ipsi presbiter Benzo fecit omnia, ct dixit, ecce quatuor vie, ite et ambulate in quacunq ; partem tibi placuerit, tarn sic supra scripta Cleriza, qua nosque tui heredes, qui ab ac hora in antca nati, vel procreati fuerit utriusq; sexus," &c. Murat. ib. p. 853. Many other charters might have been selected, which, in noint of grammas or stvle. are in no wise superior fo this. Manvi- Vol. II.— 67 S3<» PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS, mission was frequently granted on death-bed or by latter-will. As the mind* of men are at that time awakened to sentiments of humanity and piety, these deeds proceeded from religious motives, and were granted pro rcdemptione animmy in order to obtain acceptance with God. Du Cange, ubi supra, p. 470. et voc. Servus, vol. vi. p. 451. Another method of obtaining liberty was by entering into holy orders, or taking the vow in a monastery. This was permitted for some time, but so many slaves escaped by this means, out of the hands of their masters, that the practice was afterwards restrained, and at last prohibited by the laws of almost all the nations of Europe. Murat. ib. p. 842. Conforma- bly to the same principles, princes, on the birth of a son, or upon any other agreeable event, appointed a certain number of slaves to be enfranchised, as a. testimony of their gratitude to God for that benefit. Marculfi Form. lib. i. cap. 39. There are several forms of manumission published by Marculfus, and all of them are founded on religious considerations, in order to procure the favour of God, or to obtain the forgiveness of their sins. Lib. ii. c. 23. 33, 34. edit. Baluz. The same observation holds with respect to the other collections of Formulae annexed to Marculfus. As sentiments of religion induced some to grant liberty to their fellow Christians who groaned under the yoke of servi- tude ; so mistaken ideas concerning devotion led others to relinquish their liberty. When a person conceived an extraordinary respect for the saint who was the patron of any church or monastery in which he was accustomed to attend religious worship, it was not unusual among men possessed with an excess of superstitious reverence, to give up themselves and their posterity to be the slaves of the saint. Mabillon de Re Diplomat, lib. vi. 632. The oblati or voluntary slaves of churches or monasteries were very numerous, and may be divided into three different classes. The first were such as put themselves and effects under the protection of a particular church or monastery, binding themselves to defend its privileges and property against every aggressor. These were prompted to do so not merely by devotion, but in order to obtain that security which arose from the protection of the church. They were rather vassals than slaves, and sometimes persons of noble birth found it prudent to secure the protection of the church in this manner. Persons of the second class bound themselves to pay an annual tax or quit-rent out of their estates to a church or monastery. - Besides this, they sometimes engaged to perform certain services. They were called censuales. The last class consisted of such as actually renounced their liberty, and became slaves in the strict and proper sense of the word. These were called ministerialcs, and enslaved their bodies, as some of their charters bear, that they might procure the liberty of their souls. Potgiesserus de statu servorum, lib. i. cap. i. sect. 6, 7. How zealous the clergy were to encourage the opinions which led to this practice, will ap- pear from a clause in a charter by which one gives up himself as a slave to a monastery. " Cum sit omni carnali ingenuitate generosius extremum quod- cumq ; Dei servitium, scilicet quod terrena nobilitas multos plerumq ; vitiorum servos facit, servitus vero Christi nobiles virtutibus reddit, nemo autem sani capitis virtutibus vitia comparaverit, claret pro certo eum esse generosiorem, qui se Deiservitio prffibuerit proniorem. Quod ego Ragnaldus intelligens,'" &c. Another charter is expressed in the following words : " Eligens magis esse sorvus Dei quam libertus snsculi, firmiter crcdens et sciens, quod scrvire Deo, regnare est, summaque ingenuitas sit in qua servitus comparabatur Christi," &c. Du Cange, voc. Oblatus, vol. iv. p. 1286, 1287. Great, however, as the power of religion was, it does not appear, that the enfranchisement of slaves was a frequent practice while the feudal system preserved its vigour. On the con- trary, there were laws which set bounds to it as detrimental to society. Pot- giess. lib. iv. c. 2. } 6. The inferior order of men owed the recovery of their liberty to the decline of that aristocratical policy, which lodged the most ex- tensive power in the hands of a few members of the society, and repressed all the rest. When Louis X. issued his ordonnance, several slaves had been so long accustomed to servitude, and their minds were so much debased by that unhappy situation, that they refused to accept of the liberty which was offered them. D'Ach. Spicel. vol. xi. p. 387. Long after the reign of Louis X. several of the French nobility continued to assert their ancient dominion over their slaves. It appears from an ordonnance of the famous Bertrand de Gueschlin. PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS 631 Constable of France, that the custom of enfranchising them was considered as a pernicious innovation. Morice Mem. pour servir dcs prouves a l'Hist. de Bret. torn. ii. p. 100. In some instances, when the pra?dial slaves were declared to be freemen, they were still bound to perform certain services to their ancient masters ; and were kept in a state different from other subjects, being restricted either from purchasing land, or becoming members of a community within the precincts of the manor to which they formerly belonged. Martene and Durand. Thesaur. Anecdot. vol. i. p. 914. This, however, seems not to have been common. — There is no general law for the manumission of slaves in the Sta- tute-book of England, similar to that which has been quoted from the Ordon- nances of the kings of France. Though the genius of the English constitution seems early to have favoured personal liberty, personal servitude, nevertheless, continued long in England in some particular places. In the year 1514, we find a charter of Henry VIII. enfranchising two slaves belonging to one of his manors. Rym. Feeder, vol. xiii. p. 470. As late as the year 1574, there is a commission from Queen Elizabeth with respect to the manumission of certain bondmen belonging to her. Rymer, in Observat. on the Statutes, &c. p. 251. Note [21]. Page 27. There is no custom in the middle ages more singular than that of private war. It is a right of so great importance, and prevailed so universally, that the regulations concerning it occupy a considerable place in the system of laws during the middle ages. M. de Montesquieu, who has unravelled so many intri- cate points in feudal jurisprudence, and thrown light on so many customs formerly obscure and unintelligible, was not led by his subject to consider this. 1 shall therefore give a more minute account of the customs and regulations which directed a practice so contrary to the present ideas of civilized nations concerning government and order. 1. Among the ancient Germans, as well as other nations in a similar state of society, the right of avenging injuries was a private and personal right exercised by force of arms, without any reference to an umpire, or any appeal to a magistrate for decision. The clearest proofs of this were produced, Note 6. — 2. This practice subsisted among the barba- rous nations after their settlement in the provinces of the empire which they conquered ; and as the causes of dissension among them multiplied, their family feuds and private wars became more frequent. Proofs of this occur in their early historians. Greg. Turon. Hist. lib. vii. c. 2. lib. viii. c. 18. lib. x. c. 27. and likewise in the codes of their laws. It was not only allowable for the relations to avenge the injuries of their family, but it was incumbent on them. Thus, by the laws of the Angli and Werini, ad quemcunque hcreditas terrae pervenerit, ad ilium vestis bellica id est lorica et ultio proximi, et solatio leudis, debet pertinere, tit. vi. $ 5. ap. Lindenbr. Leg. Saliq. tit. 63. Leg. Longob. lib. ii. tit. 14. •) 10.-^-3. None but gentlemen, or persons of noble birth, had the right of private war. All disputes between slaves, villani, the inhabitants of towns, and free men of inferior condition, were decided in the courts of justice. All disputes between gentlemen and persons of inferior rank were terminated in the same manner. The right of private war, supposed nobility of birth, and equality of rank in both the contending parties. Beau- manoir Coustumes de Beauv. ch. lix. p. 300. Ordon. des Rois de France, torn, ii. 395. t xvii. 508. 4 xv. &c. The dignified ecclesiastics likewise claimed and exercised the right of private war; but as it was not altogether decent for them to prosecute quarrels in person, advocati or vidames were chosen by the several monasteries and bishoprics. These were commonly men of high rank and reputation, who became the protectors of the churches and convents by which they were elected; espoused their quarrels, and fought their battles; armis omnia quse erant ecclesioe viriliter defendebant, et vigilanter protegebant. Brussel Usage des Fiefs, torn. i. p. 144. Du Cange, voc. Adrocatus. On many occasions, the martial ideas to which ecclesiastics of noble birth were accus- tomed, made them forgot the pacific spirit of their profession, and led them into the field in person at the head of their vassals, "flamma, ferro, coede, pos- sessiones ecclesiarum prselati defendebant." Guido Abbas ap. Du Cange, ib. p. 179. — 4. It was not every injury or trespass that gave a gentleman a title to make war upon his adversary. Atrocious acts of violence, intfults and^iffro.ntp. 532 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. publicly committed were legal and permitted motives for taking arms against the authors of them. Such crimes as are now punished capitally in civilized nations, at that time justified private hostilities. Beauman. ch. lix. Du Cange Dissert, xxix. sur Joinville, p. 331 . But though the avenging of injuries was the only motive that could legally authorize a private war, yet disputes concerning civil property often gave rise to hostilities, and were terminated by the sword. Du Cange Dissert, p. 332. — 5. All persons present when any quarrel arose, or any act of violence was committed, were included in the war which it occa- sioned ; for it was supposed to be impossible for any man in such a situation to remain neuter, without taking side with one or other of the contending par- ties. Beauman. p. 300. — 6. All the kindred of the two principals in the war were included in it, and obliged to espouse the quarrel of the chieftain with whom they were connected. Du Cange, ib. 332. This was founded on the maxim of the ancient Germans, "suscipere tarn inimicitias seu patris, seu pro- pinqui, quam amicitias, necesse est;" a maxim natural to all rude nations, among which the form of society, and political union, strengthen such a senti- ment. This obligation was enforced by legal authority. If a person refused to take part in the quarrel of his kinsman, and to aid him against his adversary, lie was deemed to have renounced all the rights and privileges of kindredship, and became incapable of succeeding to any of his relations, or of deriving any benefit from any civil right or property belonging to them. Du Cange Dis- sert, p. 333. The method of ascertaining the degree of affinity which obliged a person to take part in the quarrel of a kinsman, was curious. While the church prohibited the marriage of persons within tiis seventh degree of affinity, the vengeance of private war extended as far as this absurd prohibition, and all who had such a remote connection with any of the principles, were involved in the calamities of war. But when the church relaxed somewhat of its rigour, and did not extend its prohibition of marrying beyond the fourth degree of affinity, the same restriction took place in the conduct of private war. Beau- man. 303. Du Cange Dissert. 333. — 7. A private war could not be carried on between two full brothers, because both have the same common kindred, and con- sequently neither had any persons bound to stand by him against the other in the contest; but two brothers of the half blood might wage war, because each of them has a distinct kindretl Beauman. p. 299. — 8. The vassals of each prin- cipal in any private war were involved in the contest, because by the feudal maxims they were bound to take arms in defence of the chieftain of whom they held, and to assist him in every quarrel. As soon, therefore, as feudal tenures were introduced, and this artificial connexion was established between vassals and the baron of whom they held, vassals came to be considered as in the same state -with relations. Beauman. 303. — 9. Private wars were very frequent for several centuries. Nothing contributed more to increase those disorders in government, or to encourage such ferocity of manners as reduced the nations of Europe to that wretched state which distinguished the period of history which I am reviewing. Nothing was such an obstacle to the introduc- tion of a regular administration of justice. Nothing could more effectually discourage industry, or retard the progress and cultivation of the arts of peace. Private wars were carried on with all the destructive rage which is to be dreaded from violent resentment when armed with force, and authorized by law. It appears from the statutes prohibiting or restraining the exercise of private hostilities, that the invasion of the most barbarous enemy could not be more desolating to a country, or more fatal to its inhabitants, than those intes- tine wars. Ordon. torn. i. p. 701. torn. ii. p. 39.5. 408. 507, &c. The contem- porary historians describe the excesses committed in prosecution of these quarrels in such terms as excite astonishment and horror. I shall mention only one passage from the history of the Holy War, by Guibert Abbot of Nogent : " Erat eo tempore maximis ad invicem hostilitatibus, totius Francorum regni facta turbatio; crebra ubiq; latrocinia, viarum obsessio; audiebantur passim, immo fiebant incendia infinita; nullis propter sola et indomita cupiditate exis- tentibus causis extruebantur prnslia ; et ut brevi totum claudam, quicquid obtu- tibus cupidorum subjacebat, nusquam attendenlo cujus esset, prsedse patebat." Gesta Dei per Francos, vol. i. p. 482. Having thus collected the chief regulations which custom had established FROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 533 concerning the right, and exercise of private war, 1 shall enumerate in chrono- logical order, the various expedients employed to abolish or restrain this fatal custom. 1. The first expedient employed by the civil magistrate, in order to set some bounds to the violence of private revenge, was the fixing by law the fine or composition to be paid for each different crime. The injured person was originally the sole judge concerning the nature of the wrong which he had suffered, the degree of vengeance which he should exact, as well as the species of atonement or reparation with which he might rest satisfied. Re- sentment became of course as implacable as it was fierce. It was often a point of honour not to forgive, nor to be reconciled. This made it necessary to fix those compositions which make so great a figure in the laws of barbarous nations. The nature of crimes and offences was estimated by the magistrate, and the sum due to the person offended was ascertained with a minute and often a whimsical accuracy. Rothans, the legislator of the Lombards, who reigned aoout the middle of the seventh century, discovers his intention both in ascertaining the composition to be paid by the offender, and in increasing its value ; it is, says he, that the enmity may be extinguished, the prosecution may cease, and peace may be restored. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. 7. sect. 10. — 2. About the beginning of the ninth century, Charlemagne struck at the root of the evil, and enacted, " That when any person had been guilty of a crime, or had committed an outrage, he should immediately submit to the penance which the church imposed, and offer to pay the composition which the law prescribed, and if the injured person or his kindred should refuse to accept of this, and presume to avenge themselves by force of arms, their lands and properties should be forfeited.1 Capitul. A. D. 802. edit. Baiuz. vol. i. 371. — 3. But in this, as well as in other regulations, the genius of Charlemagne advanced before the spirit of his age. The ideas of his contemporaries concerning regular government were too imperfect, and their manners too fierce to submit to this law. Private wars, with all the calamities which they occasioned, became more frequent than ever after the death of that great monarch. His successors were unable to restrain them. The church found it necessary to interpose. The most early of these interpositions now extant, is towards the end of the tenth century. In the year 990, several bishops in the south of France assembled, and published various regulations, in order to set some bounds to the violence and frequency of private wars ; if any person within their diocesses should venture to transgress, they ordained that he should be excluded from all Chris tian privileges during his life, and be denied Christian burial after his death. Du Mont Corps Diplomatique, torn. i. p. 41. These, however, were only par- tial remedies; and therefore a council was held at Limoges, A. D. 994. The bodies of the saints, according to the custom of those ages, were carried thither; and by these sacred relics men were exhorted to lay down their arms, to ex- tinguish their animosities, and to swear that they would not for the future violate the public peace by their private hostilities. Bouquet Recueil des Histor. vol. x. p. 49. 147. Several other councils issued decrees to the same effect. Du Cange Dissert. 343. — 4. But the authority of councils, how vene- rable soever in those ages, was not sufficient to abolish a custom which flattered the pride of the nobles, and gratified their favourite passions. The evil grew so intolerable, that it became necessary to employ supernatural means for sup- pressing it. A bishop of Aquitaine, A. D. 1032, pretended that an angel had appeared to him, and brought him a writing from heaven, enjoining men to cease from their hostilities, and to be reconciled to each other. It was during a season of public calamity that he published this revelation. The minds of men were disposed to receive pious impressions, and willing to perform any thing in order to avert the wrath of heaven. A general peace and cessation from hostilities took place, and continued for seven years ; and a resolution was formed, that no man should in times to come attack or molest his adver- saries during the season set apart for celebrating the great festivals of the church, or from the evening of Thursday in each week, to the morning of Monday in the week ensuing, the intervening days being considered as particularly holy ; our Lord's Passion having happened on one of these days, and his Resurrection on another. A change in the dispositions of men so sudden, and which pro* duced a resolution so unexpected, was considered as miraculous ; and the 534 FKOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. respite from hostilities which followed upon it, was called The Truce of God. Glaber. Rodolphus Histor. lib. v. ap. Bouquet, vol. x. p. 59. This, from being a regulation or concert in one kingdom, became a general law in Chiisiendom, was confirmed by the authority of several popes, and the violators were sub- jected to the penalty of excommunication. Corpus Jur. Canon. Decretal, lib. i. tit. 34. o. i. Du Cange Glossar. voc. Treuga. An act of the council of Tou- lujes in Rousillon, A. D. 1041, containing all the stipulations required by the truce of God, is published by Dom de Vic and Dom Vaisette, Hist, de Languc- doc, torn. ii. preuves, p. 206. A cessation from hostilities during three com- plete days in every week, allowed such a considerable space for the passions of the antagonists to cool, and for the people to enjoy a respite from the calami- ties of war, as well as to take measures for their own security, that, if this truce of God had been exactly observed, it must have gone far towards putting an end to private wars. This, however, seems not to have been the case ; the nobles, disregarding the truce, prosecuted their quarrels without interruption as formerly. Qua nimirum tempestate, universae provineise adeo devastations continual importunitate inquietantur ut ne ipsa, pro observatione divinae pacis, professa sacramenta custodiantur. Abbas Uspergensis, apud Datt de pace im- peri. publica. p. 13. No. 35. The violent spirit of the nobility could not be restrained by any engagements. The complaints of this were frequent ; and bishops, in order to compel them to renew their vows and promises of ceasing from their private wars, were obliged to enjoin their clergy to suspend the per- formance of divine service and the exercise of any religious function within the parishes of such as were refractory and obstinate. Hist, de Langued. par D. D. de Vic et Vaisette, torn. ii. Preuves, p. 118. — 5. The people, eager to obtain relief from their sufferings, called in a second time revelation to their aid. Towards the end of the twelfth century, a carpenter in Guienne gave out, that Jesus Christ, together with the blessed Virgin, had appeared to him, and having commanded him to exhort mankind to peace, had given him, as a proof of his mission, an Image of the Virgin holding her son in her arms, with this inscrip- tion, Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world, give us peace. This low fanatic addressed himself to an ignorant age, prone to credit what was marvellous. He was received as an inspired messenger of God. Many pre- lates and barons assembled at Puy, and took an oath, not only to make peace with all their enemies, but fo attack such as refused to lay down their arms, and to be reconciled to their enemies. They formed an association for this purpose, and assumed the honourable name of the Brotherhood of God. Ro- bertus de Monte Michaele, ap. M. de Lauriere Pref. torn. i. Ordon. p. 29. But the influence of this superstitious terror or devotion was not of long continu- ance.— 6. The civil magistrate was obliged to exert his authority in order to check a custom which threatened the dissolution of government. Philip Au- gustus, as some imagine, or St. Louis, as is more probable, published an ordon- nance, A. D. 1245, prohibiting any person to commence hostilities against the friends and vassals of his adversary, until forty days after the commission of the crime or offence which gave rise to the quarrel ; declaring, that if any man presumed to transgress this statute, that he should be considered as guilty of a breach of the public peace, and be tried and punished by the judge ordinary as a traitor. Ordon. torn. i. 56. This was called the Royal Truce, and afforded time for the violence of resentment to subside, as well as leisure for the good offices of such as were willing to compose the difference. The happy effects of this regulation seem to have been considerable, if we may judge from the solicitude of succeeding monarchs to enforce it. — 7. In order to restrain the exercise of private war still farther, Philip the Fair, towards the close of the same century, A. D. 1296, published an ordonnance commanding all private hostilities to. cease, while he was engaged in war against the enemies of the state. Ordon. torn. i. p. 328. 390. This regulation, which seems to be almost essential to the existence and preservation of society, was often renewed by his successors, and being enforced by the regal authority, proved a considerable check to the destructive contests of the nobles. Both these regulations, in- troduced first in France, were adopted by the other nations of Europe. — 8. The evil, however, was so inveterate, that it did not yield to all these remedies. No sooner was public peace established in any kingdom, than the barons PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 535 renewed their private hostilities. They not only struggled to maintain this per- nicious right, but to secure the exercise of it without any restraint. Upon tho death of Philip the Fair, the nobles of different provinces in France formed associations, and presented remonstrances to his successor, demanding the re- peal of several laws, by which he had abridged the privileges of their order. Among these, the right of private war is always mentioned as one of the most valuable; and they claim that the restraint imposed by the truce of God, the royal truce, as well as that arising from the ordonnances of the year 1296, should be taken oft", in some instances, the two sons of Philip who mounted the throne successively, eluded their demands ; in others, they were obliged to make concessions. Ordon. torn. i. p. 551. 557. 561. 573. The ordonnances to which 1 here refer are of such length that 1 cannot insert them, but they are extremely curious, and may be peculiarly instructive to an English reader, as they throw considerable light on that period of En lish history, in which the attempts to circumscribe the regal prerogative were carried on, not by the people struggling for liberty, but by the nobles contending for power. It is not neces- sary to produce any evidence of the continuance and frequency of private wars under the successors of Philip the Fair. — 9. A practice somewhat similar to the royal truce was introduced, in order to strengthen and extend it. Bonds of assurance, or mutual security, were demanded from the parties at variance, by which they obliged themselves to abstain from all hostilities, either during a time mentioned in the bond, or for ever ; and became subject to heavy penal- ties, if they violated this obligation. These bonds were sometimes granted voluntarily, but more frequently exacted by the authority of the civil magis- trate. Upon a petition from the party who felt himself weakest, the magistrate summoned his adversary to appear in court, and obliged him to give a bond of assurance. If after that, he committed any farther hostilities, he became sub- ject to all the penalties of treason. This restraint on private war was known in the age of St. Louis. Establissemens, liv. i. c. 28. It was frequent in Bre- tagne ; and what is very remarkable, such bonds of assurance were given mutually between vassals and the lord of whom they held. Oliver de Clisson grants one to the Duke of Bretagne, his sovereign. Morice Mem. pour servir de Preuves a lTiist. de Bret. torn. i. p. 846. ii. p. 371. Many examples of bonds of assurance in other provinces of France are collected by Brussel, torn. ii. p. iJ56. The nobles of Burgundy remonstrated against this practice, and obtained exemption from it as an encroachment on the privileges of their order. Ordon. torn. i. p. 558. This mode of security was first introduced in cities, and the good effects of it having been felt there, was extended to the nobles. See Note 16. — 10. The calamities occasioned by private wars became at some times so intolerable, that the nobles entered into voluntary associations, binding them- selves to refer all matters in dispute, whether concerning civil property, or points of honour, to the determination of the majority of the associates. Mo- rice Mem. pour servir de preuves a l'Hist. de Bret. torn. ii. p. 728. — 11. But all these expedients proving ineffectual, Charles VI., A. D. 1413, issued an ordonnance expressly prohibiting private wars on any pretext whatsoever, with power to the judge ordinary to compel all persons to comply with this injunc- tion, and to punish such as should prove refractory or disobedient, by imprison- ing their persons, seizing their goods, and appointing the officers of justice, Mangeurs et Gasteurs, to live at free quarters on their estate. If those who were disobedient to this edict could not be personally arrested, he appointed their friends and vassals to be seized, and detained until they gave surety for keeping the peace ; and he abolished all laws, customs, or privileges which might be pleaded in opposition to this ordonnance. Ordon. torn. x. p. 138. How slow is the progress of reason and of civil order ! Regulations which to us appear so equitable, obvious, and simple, required the efforts of civil and ecclesiastical authority, during several centuries, to introduce and establish them. Even posterior to this period, Louis XI. was obliged to abolish private wars in Dauphine, by a particular edict, A. D. 1451. Du Cange Dissert, p. 348. This note would swell to a disproportionate bulk, if I should attempt to in- quire with the same minute attention into the progress of this pernicious cus- tom jn the other oountrips of Europe. )n Ensrland. the ideas of the Saxons 536 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. concerning personal revenge, the right of private wars, and the composition due to the party offended, seem to have been much the same with tlio.se which prevailed on the Continent. The law of Ina de vindicantibus, in the eighth century, Lamb. p. 3, those of Edmund in the tenth century, de homicidio, Lamb, p. 72, et de inimicitiis, p. 76. and those of Edward the Confessor, in the eleventh century, de temporibus et diebus pacis, or Treuga Dei, Lamb. p. 126, are periiectly similar to the ordonnances of the French kings their contemporaries. The laws of Edward, de pace regis, are still more explicit than those of the French monarchs, and, by several provisions in them, discover that a more perfect police was established in England at that period. Lambard, p. 128. ibl. vers. Even after the conquest, private wars, and the regulations for pre- venting them, were not altogether unknown, as appears from Madox Formulare Anglicanum, No. CXLV. and from the extracts from Domesday Book, published by Gale Scriptores Hist. Britan. p. 759. 777. The well known clause in the form of an English indictment, which, as an aggravation of the criminal's guilt, mentions his having assaulted a person, who was in the peace of God and of the King, seems to be borrowed from the Treuga or Pax Dei, and the Pax Regis, which 1 have explained. But after the conquest, the mention of private wars among the nobility occurs more rarely in the English history, than in that of any other European nation, and no laws concerning them are to be found in the body of their statutes. Such a change in their own manners, and such a variation from those of their neighbours, is remarkable. Is it to be ascribed to the extraordinary power that William the Norman acquired by right of conquest, and transmitted to his successors, which rendered the execu- tion of justice more vigorous and decisive, and the jurisdiction of the king's court more extensive than under the monarchs on the Continent ? Or was it owing to the settlement of the Normans in England, who, having never adopted the practice of private war in their own country, abolished it in the kingdom which they conquered ? It is asserted in an ordonnance of John king of France, that in all times past, persons of every rank in Normandy have been prohibited to wage private war, and the practice has been deemed unlawful. Ordon. torn. ii. p. 407. If this fact were certain, it would go far towards explaining the peculiarity which I have mentioned. But as there are some English Acts of Parliament, which, according to the remarks of the learned author of the Obs (nations on the Statutes, chiefly the more ancient, recite falsehoods, it may be added, that this is not peculiar to the laws of that coun- try. Notwithstanding the positive assertion contained in this public law of France, there is good reason for considering it as a statute which recites a falsehood. This, however, is not the place for discussing that point. It is an inquiry not unworthy the curiosity of an English antiquary. In Castile, the pernicious practice of private war prevailed, and was author- ized by the customs and laws of the kingdom. Leges Tauri, tit. 76. cum commentario Anton. Gomezii. p. 551. As the Castilian nobles were no less turbulent than powerful, their quarrels and hostilities involved their country in many calamities. Innumerable proofs of this occur in Mariana. In Arragon, the right of private revenge was likewise authorized by law ; exercised in its full extent, and accompanied with the same unhappy consequences. Hieron. Blanca Comment, de Rebus Arag. ap. Schotii Hispan. illustrat. vol. iii. p. 733. Lex Jacobi I., A. D. 1247. Fueros et Observancias del Reyno de Aragon. lib. ix. p. 182. Several confederacies between the kings of Arragon and their nobles for the restoring of peace, founded on the truce of God, are still extant. Petr. de Marca, Marca sive Limes Hispanic, app. 1303, 1388, 1428. As early as the year 1165, we find a combination of the king and court of Arragon, in order to abolish the right of private war, and to punish those who presumed to claim that privilege. Anales de Aragon por. Zurita, vol. i. p. 73. But the evil was so inveterate, that as late as A. D. 1.519, Charles V. was obliged to publish a law enforcing all former regulations tending to suppress this practice, Fueros et observanc. lib. ix. 183. The Lombards, and other northern nations who settled in Italy, introduced the same maxims concerning the right of revenge into that country, and these were followed by the same effects. As the progress of the evil was perfectly similar to what happened in Fiance, the expedients employed to check its PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 537 career, or to extirpate it finally, resembled those which I have enumerated. Murat. Ant. Ital. vol. ii. p. 306, &c In Germany, the disorders and calamities occasioned by the right of private war were greater and more intolerable than in any other country of Europe. The Imperial authority was so much shaken and enfeebled by the violence of the civil wars excited by the contests between the popes and the emperors of the Franconian and Suabian lines, that not only the nobility but the cities ac- quired almost independent power, and scorned all subordination and obedience to the laws. The frequency of these faidce, or private wars, is often mentioned in the German annals, and the fatal effects of them are most pathetically de- scribed, Datt de Pace Imper. pub. lib. i. cap. v. No. JO, et passim. The Ger- mans early adopted the Treuga Dei, which was first established in France. This, however, proved but a temporary and ineffectual remedy. The disorders multiplied so fast, and grew to be so enormous, that they threatened tbe disso- lution of society, and compelled the Germans to have recourse to the only remedy of the evil, viz. an absolute prohibition of private wars. The emperor William published his edict to this purpose, A. D. 1255, a hundred and sixty years previous to the Ordonnance of Charles VI. in France, Datt, lib. i. cap. 4. No. 20. But neither he nor his successors had authority to secure the observ- ance of it. This gave rise to a practice in Germany, which conveys to us a striking idea both of the intolerable calamities occasioned by private wars, and of the feebleness of government during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The cities and nobles entered into alliances and associations, by which they bound themselves to maintain the public peace, and to make war on such as should violate it. This was the origin of the league of the Rhine, of Suabia, and of many smaller confederacies distinguished by various names. The rise, progress, and beneficial effects of these associations are traced by Datt, with great accuracy. Whatever degree of public peace or of regular administration was preserved in the empire from the beginning of the twelfth century to the close of the fifteenth, Germany owes to these leagues. During that period, political order, respect for the laws, together with the equal administration of justice, made considerable progress in Germany. But the final and perpetual abolition of the right of private war was not accomplished until A. D. 1495. The imperial authority was by that time more firmly established, the ideas of men with respect to government and subordination were become more just. That barbarous and pernicious privilege of waging war, which the nobles had so long possessed, was declared to be incompatible with the happiness and existence of society. In order to terminate any differences which might arise among the various members of the Germanic body, the imperial chamber was instituted with supreme jurisdiction, to judge without appeal in every question brought before it. That court has subsisted since that period, forming a very respectable tribunal, of essential importance in the Germanic constitution, Datt, lib. iii. iv. v. Pfeffel Abrege de lTIistoire, du Droit, &c. p. 556. Note [22]. Page 31. It would be tedious and of little use to enumerate the various modes of ap- pealing to the justice of God, which superstition introduced during the ages of ignorance. I shall mention only one, because we have an account of it in a placituin or trial in the presence of Charlemagne, from which we may learn the imperfect manner in which justice was administered even during his reign. In the year 775, a contest arose between the bishop of Paris and the abbot of St. Denys, concerning the property of a small abbey. Each of them exhibited deeds and records, in order to prove the right to be in them. Instead of trying the authenticity, or considering the import of these, the point was referred to the judicium cruris. Each produced a person, who during the celebration of mass, stood before the cross with his arms expanded ; and he, whose represen- tative first became weary, and altered his posture, lost the cause. The person employed by the bishop on this occasion had less strength or less spirit than his adversary, and the qur.L.tion was decided in favour of the abbot. Mabillon de Re Diplomat, lib. vi. p. 498. If a prince so enlightened as Charlemagne countenanced such an absurd mode of decision, it is no wonder that other monarchs should tolerate it so long. M. de Montesquieu has treated of the Vol. IT.— 68 638 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. trial by judicial combat at considerable length. The two talents which dis- tinguished that illustrious author, industry in tracing all the circumstances of ancient and obscure institutions, and sagacity in penetrating into the causes and principles which contributed to establish them, are equally conspicuous in his observations on this subject. To these 1 refer the leader, as they contain most of the principles by which I have endeavoured to explain this practice. De l'Esprit des Loix, lib. xxviii. It seems to be probable from the remarks of M. de Montesquieu as well as from the facts produced by Muratori, torn. iii. Dissert, xxxviii. that appeals to the justice of God by the experiments with fire and water, &c. were frequent among the people who settled in the different provinces of the Roman empire, before they had recourse to the judicial com- bat ; and yet the judicial combat seems to have been the most ancient mode of terminating any controversy among the barbarous nations in their original settlements. This is evident from Velleius Paterculus, lib. ii. c. 118, who in- forms us, that all questions which were decided among the Romans by legal trial, were terminated among the Germans by arms. The same thing appears in the ancient laws and customs of the Swedes, quoted by Jo. O. Stiernhook de Jure Sueonum et Gothorum vetusto. 4to. Holinia; 1682. lib. i. c. 7. It is probable that when the various tribes which invaded the empire were converted to Christianity, their ancient custom of allowing judicial combats appeared so glaringly repugnant to the precepts of religion, that, for some tune, it was abolished, and by degrees, several circumstances which 1 have mentioned led them to resume it. It seems likewise to be probable from a law quoted by Stiernhook in the treatise which I have mentioned, that the judicial combat was originally per- mitted, in order to determine points respecting the personal character or repu- tation of individuals, and was afterwards extended not only to criminal cases, but to questions concerning property. The words of the law are, " If any man shall say to another these reproachful words ' you are not a man equal to other men,' or, ' you have not the heart of a man,1 and the other shall reply, ' I am a man as good as you,' let them meet on the highway. If he who first gave offence appear, and the person offended absent himself, let the latter be deemed a worse man even than he was called ; let him not be admitted to give evidence in judgment either fon man or woman, and let him not have the privi- lege of making a testament. If he who gave the offence be absent, and only the person offended appear, let him call upon the other thrice with a loud voice, and make a mark upon the earth, and then let him who absented himself be deemed infamous, because he uttered words which he durst not support. If both shall appear properly armed, and the person offended shall fall in the combat, let a half compensation be paid for his death. But it the person who gave the offence shall fall, let it be imputed to his own rashness. The petulance of his tongue hath been fatal to him. Let him lie in the field without any compensation being demanded for his death." Lex Uplandica, ap. Stiern. p. 76. Martial people were extremely delicate with respect to every thing that affected their reputation as soldiers. By the laws of the Salians, if any man called another a hare, or accused him of having left his shield in the field of battle, he was ordained to pay a large fine. Leg. Sal. tit. xxxii. i 4. 6. By the law of the Lombards, if any one called another arga, i. e. a good for nothing fellow, he might immediately challenge him to combat. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. v. G 1. By the law of the Salians, if one called another crnitus, a term of reproach equivalent to arga, he was bound to pay a very high fine. Tit. xxxii. § 1. Paulus Diaconus relates the violent impression which this reproachful expression made upon one of his countrymen, and the fatal effects with which it was attended. De Gestis Longobard. lib. vi. c. 34. Thus the ideas con- cerning the point of honour, which we are apt to consider as a modern refine- ment, as well as the practice of duelling, to which it gave rise, are derived from the notions of our ancestors, while in a state of society very little im- proved. As M. de Montesquieu's view of this subject did not lead him to consider every circumstance relative to judicial combats. I shall mention some particular facts necessary for the illustration of what I have said with respect to them. A remarkable instance occurs of the decision of an abstract point of law by PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 539 combat. A question arose in the tenth century, concerning the right of repre- sentation, which was not then fixed, though now universally established in every part of Europe. "It was a matter of doubt and dispute, (saith the his- torian,) whether the sons of a son ought to be reckoned among the children of the family, and succeed equally with their uncles, if their father happened to die while their grandfather was alive. An assembly was called to deliberate on this point, and it was the general opinion that it ought to be remitted to the examination and decision of judges. But the emperor following a better course, and desirous of dealing honourably with his people and nobles, appointed the matter to be decided by battle between two champions. He who appeared in behalf of the right of children to represent their deceased father was victo- rious; and it was established, by a perpetual decree, that they should hereafter share in the inheritance together with their uncles." Wittikindus Corbiensis, lib. Annal. ap. M. de Lauriere Pref. Ordon. vol. i. p. 33. If we can suppose the caprice of folly to lead men to any action more extravagant than this of settling a point in law by combat, it must be that of referring the truth or falsehood of a religious opinion to be decided in the same manner. To the disgrace of human reason, it has been capable even of this extravagance. A question was agitated in Spain in the eleventh century, whether the Musarabic liturgy and ritual which had been used in the churches of Spain, or that approved of by the see of Rome, which differed in many particulars from the other, contained the form of worship most acceptable to the Deity. The Span- iards contended zealously for the ritual of their ancestors. The popes urged them to receive that to which they had given their infallible sanction. A violent contest arose. The nobles proposed to decide the controversy by the sword. The king approved of this method of decision. Two knights in complete armour entered the lists. John Ruys de Matanca, the champion of the Musarabic liturgy, was victorious. But the queen and archbishop of Toledo, who favoured the other form, insisted on having the matter submitted to another trial, and had interest enough to prevail in a request, inconsistent with the laws of combat, which being considered as an appeal to God, the decision ought to have been acquiesced in as final. A great fire was kindled. A copy of each liturgy wae cast into the flames. It was agreed that the book which stood this proof, and remained untouched, should be received in all the churches of Spain. The Musarabic liturgy triumphed likewise in this trial, and if we may believe Roderigo de Toledo, remained unhurt by the fire, when the other was reduced to ashes. The queen and archbishop had power or art sufficient to elude this decision also, and the use of the Musarabic form of devotion was permitted only in certain churches. A determination no less extraordinary than the whole transaction. Roder de Toledo, quoted by P. Orleans, Hist, de Revol. d'Espagne, torn. i. p. 417. Mariana, lib. i. c. IB. vol. i. p. 378. — A remarkable proof of the general use of trial by combat, and of the predilection for that mode of decision, occurs in the laws of the Lombards. It was a custom in the middle ages, that any person might signify publicly the law to which he chose to be subjected ; and by the prescriptions of that law he was obliged to regulate his transactions, without being bound to comply with any practice authorized by other codes of law. Persons who had subjected themselves to the Roman law, and adhered to the ancient jurisprudence, as far as any knowledge of it was retained in those ages of ignorance, were exempted from paying any regard to the forms of proceedings established by the laws of the Burgundians, Lombards, and other barbarous people. But the emperor Otho, in direct con- tradiction to this received maxim, ordained, " That all persons, under whatever law they lived, even although it were the Roman law, should be bound to con- form to the edicts concerning the trial by combat." Leg. Longob. lib. ii. tit. 55. sect. 38. While the trial by judicial combat subsisted, proofs by charters, contracts, or other deeds became ineffectual ; and even this species of written evidence, calculated to render the proceedings of courts certain and decisive, was eluded. When a charter, or other instrument was produced by one of the parties, his opponent might challenge it, affirm that it was false and forged, and offer to prove this by combat. Leg. Longob. ib. sect. 34. It is true, that among the reasons enumerated by Beaumanoir, on account of which judges might refuse to permit a trial by combat, one is, "If the point in contest ca« be clearly proved or 540 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. ascertained by other evidence." Coust. de Beauv. ch. 63. p. 325. But that regulation removed the evil only a single step. For the party who suspected that a witness was about to depose in a manner unfavourable to his cause, might accuse him of being suborned, give him the lie, and challenge him to combat ; it' the witness was vanquished in battle, no other evidence could be admitted, and the party by whom he was summoned to appear lost his cause. Leg. Baivar. tit. 16. sect. 2. Leg. Burgund. tit. 45. Beauman. ch. 61. p. 315. The reason given for obliging a w itness to accept of a defi nee, and to defend himself by combat, is remarkable, and contains the same idea which is still the founda- tion of what is called the point of honour; "for it is just, that if any one affirms that he perfectly knows the truth of any thing, and offers to give oath upon it, that he should not hesitate to maintain the veracity of his affirmation in combat." Leg. Burgund. tit. 45. That the trial by judicial combat was established in every country of Europe, is a fact well known, and requires no proof. That this mode of decision was frequent, appears not only from the codes of ancient laws which established it, but from the earliest writers concerning the practice of law in the different nations of Europe. They treat of this custom at great length ; they enume- rate the regulations concerning it with minute accuracy; and explain them with much solicitude. It made a capital and extensive article in jurisprudence. There is not any one subject in their system of law, which Beaumanoir, Defon- taines, or the compilers of the Assises de Jerusalem, seem to have considered as of greater importance ; and none upon which they have bestowed so much attention. The same observation will hold with respect to the early authors of other nations. It appears from Madox, that trials of this kind v. ere so fre- quent in England, that tines, paid on these occasions, made no inconsiderable branch of the king's revenue. Hist, of the Excheq. vol. i. p. 349. A very curious account of a judicial combat between Mesne Robert de Beauma- noir, and Mesire Pierre Tournemine, in presence of the duke of Bretagne, A. D. 1385, is published by Morice, Mem. pour servir de preuves a l'Hist. de Bretagne, torn. ii. p. 498. All the formalities observed in such extraordinary proceedings are there described more minutely than in any ancient monument which I have had an opportunity of considering. Tournemine w as accused by Beaumanoir of having murdered his brother. The former was vanquished, but was saved from being hanged on the spot by the generous intercession of his antagonist. A good account of the origin of the laws concerning judicial com- bat is published in the history of Pavia, by Bernardo Sacci, lib. ix. c. 8. in GraBV. Thes. Antiquit. Ital. vol. iii. 743. This mode of trial was so acceptable, that ecclesiastics, notwithstanding the prohibitions of the church, were constrained not only to connive at the practice, but to authorize it. A remarkable instance of this is produced by Pasquier Recherches, lib. iv. ch. i. p. 350. The abbot Wittikindus, whose words 1 have produced in this note, considered the determination of a point in law by com- bat as the best and most honourable mode of decision. In the year 978, a judicial combat was fought in the presence of the emperor. The archbishop Aldebert advised him to terminate a contest which had arisen between two noblemen of his court, by this mode of decision. The vanquished combatant, though a person of high rank, was beheaded on the spot. Chronic. Ditmari Episc. Mersb. chez Bouquet Recueil des Hist. torn. x. p. 121. Questions concerning the property of churches and monasteries were decided by combat. In the year 961, a controversy concerning the church of St. Medard, whether it belonged to the abbey of Beaulieu or not, was terminated by judicial combat. Bouquet Recueil des Hist. torn. ix. p. 729. lb. p. 612, &c. The emperor Henry 1. de- clares, that this law, authorizing the practice of judicial combats, was enacted with consent and applause of many faithful bishops, lb. p. 231. So remarka- bly did the martial ideas of those ages prevail over the genius and maxims of the canon law, which in other instances was in the highest credit and authority with ecclesiastics. A judicial combat was appointed in Spain, by Charles V., A. D. 1522. The combatants fought in the emperor's presence, and the battle was conducted with all the rights prescribed by the ancient laws of chivalry. The whole transaction is described at great length by Pontus Heuterus Rnr. Austriac. lib. viii. c. 17. p. 205. PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 541 The last instance which occurs in the history of France, of a judicial combat authorized by the magistrate, was the famous one between M. Jarnac and M. de la Chaistaignerie, A. D. 1547. A trial by combat was appointed in England, A. D. 1571, under the inspection of the judges of the court of Common Pleas ; and though it was not carried to the same extremity with the former, queen Elizabeth having interposed her authority, and enjoined the parties to com- pound the matter, yet in order to preserve their honour, the lists were marked out, and all the forms previous to the combat were observed with much cere- mony. Spelm. Gloss, voc. Campus, p. 103. In the year 1631, a judicial combat was appointed between Donald Lord Ilea, and David Ramsay, Esq. by the authority of the lord high constable, and earl marshal of England ; but that quarrel likewise terminated without bloodshed, being accommodated by Charles I. Another instance occurs seven years later. Rushworth in Obser- vations on the Statutes, &c. p. 266. Note [23]. Page 33. The text contains the great outlines which mark the course of private and public jurisdiction in the several nations of Europe. 1 shall here follow more minutely the various steps of this progress, as tiie matter is curious and impor- tant enough to merit this attention. The payment of a fine by way of satisfac- tion to the person or family injured, was the first device of a rude people, in. order to check the career of private resentment, and to extinguish those faidce, or deadly feuds, which were prosecuted among them with the utmost violence. This custom may be traced back to the ancient Germans. Tacit, de Morib. Germ. c. 21. and prevailed among other uncivilized nations. Many examples of this are collected by the ingenious and learned author of Historical Law Tracts, vol. i. p. 41. These fines were ascertained and levied in three different manners. At first they were settled by voluntary agreement between the parties at variance. When their rage began to subside, and they felt the bad effects of their continuing in enmity, they came to terms of concord, and the satisfaction made was called a composition, implying that it was fixed by mutual consent. De 1'Esprit des Loix, lib. xxx. c. 19. It is apparent from some of the more ancient codes of laws, that at the time when these were compiled, matters still remained in that simple state. In certain cases, the person who had committed an offence, was left exposed to the resentment of those whom he had injured, until he should recover their favour, quoquo modo potuerit. Lex Frision. tit. 11. 5 1. The next mode of levying these fines was by the sentence of arbiters. An arbiter is called in the Regiam Majestatem amicabilis compositor, lib. xi. c. 4. { 10. He could estimate the degree of offence with more impartiality than the parties interested, and determine with greater equity what satisfaction ought to be demanded. It is difficult to bring an authentic proof of a custom previous to the records preserved in any nation of Europe. But one of the Formula Andegavenses compiled in the sixth century, seems to allude to a transaction carried on, not by the authority of a judge, but by the mediation of arbiters chosen by mutual consent. Bouquet Recueil des Histor. torn. iv. p. 566. But as an arbiter wanted authority to enforce his decisions, judges were appointed with compulsive power to oblige both parties to acqui- esce in their decisions. Previous to this last step, the expedient of paying compositions was an imperfect remedy against the pernicious effects of private resentment. As soon as this important change was introduced, the magistrate, putting himself in place of the person injured, ascertained the composition with which he ought to rest satisfied. Every possible injury that could occur in the intercourse of civil society was considered and estimated, and the compositions due to the person aggrieved were fixed with such minute attention, as discovers, in most cases, amazing discernment and delicacy ; in some instances, unac- countable caprice. Besides the composition payable to the private party, a certain sum called a fredum, was paid to the king or state, as Tacitus expresses it, or to the fiscus, in the language of the barbarous laws. Some authors blend- ing the refined ideas of modern policy with their reasonings concerning ancient transactions, have imagined that the fredum was a compensation due to the community on account of the violation of the public peace. But it is mani- festly nothing more than the price paid to the magistrate for the protection 542 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. which he afforded against the violence of resentment. The enacting of this was a considerable step towards improvement in criminal jurisprudence. In some of the more ancient codes of laws, the freda are altogether omitted, or so seldom mentioned, that it is evident they were but little known. In the later codes, the fredum is as precisely specified as the composition. In common cases it was equal to the third part of the composition. Capitul. vol. i. p. 52. In some extraordinary cases, where it was more difficult to protect the person who had committed violence, the fredum was augmented. Capitul. vol. i. p. 515. These freda made a considerable branch in the revenues of the barons ; and in whatever district territorial jurisdiction was granted, the royal judges were prohibited from levying any freda. In explaining the nature of the fredum, I have followed in a great measure the opinion of M. de Montesquieu, though I know that several learned antiquaries have taken the word in a differ- ent sense. De TEsprit des Loix, liv. xxx. c. 20, Sic. The great object of judges was to compel the one party to give, and the other to accept, the satis- faction prescribed. They multiplied regulations to this purpose, and enforced them by grievous penalties. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. 9. $ 34. lb. tit. 37. i 1, 2. Capitul. vol. i. p. 371. 0 22. The person who received a composition was obliged to cease from all farther hostility, and to confirm his reconciliation to the adverse party by an oath. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. 9. i 8. As an addi- tional and more permanent evidence of reconciliation, he was required to grant a bond of security to the person from whom he received a composition, absolv- ing him from all farther prosecution. Marculfus, and the other collectors of ancient writs, have preserved several different forms of such bonds. Marc. lib. xi. $ 18. Append. $ 23. Form. Simondicae, $ 39. The Letters of Slanes, known in the law of Scotland, are perfectly similar to these bonds of security. By the Letters of Slanes, the heirs and relations of a person who had been mur- dered, bound themselves, in consideration of an assytkment or composition paid to ihem, to forgive, "pass over and for ever forget, and in oblivion inter, all ran- cour, malice, revenge, prejudice, grudge and resentment, that they have or may conceive against the aggressor or his posterity, for the crime which he had committed, and discharge him of all action, civil or criminal, against him or his estate, for now and ever." System of Stiles by Dallas of St. Martin's, p. 862. In the ancient form of Letters, of Slanes, the private party not only forgives and forgets, but pardons and grants remission of the crime. This practice, Dallas, reasoning according to the principles of his own age, considers as an encroachment on the rights of sovereignty, as none, says he, could pardon a criminal but the king. Ibid. But, in early and rude times, the prosecution, the punishment, and the pardon of criminals, were all deeds of the private per- son who was injured. Madox has published two writs, one in the reign of Edward I., the other in the reign of Edward III., by which private persons grant a release or pardon of all trespasses, felonies, robberies, and murders com- mitted. Formal. Anglican. No. 702. 705. In the last of these instruments, some regard seems to be paid to the rights of the sovereign, for the pardon is granted en quaint que en nous est. Even after the authority of the magistrate was interposed in punishing crimes, the punishment of criminals is long consi- dered chiefly as a gratification to the resentment of the persons who have been injured. In Persia a murderer is still delivered to the relations of the person whom he has slain, who put him to death with their own hands. If they refuse to accept of a sum of money as a compensation, the sovereign, absolute as he is, cannot pardon the murderer. Voyages de Chardin, iii. p. 417. edit. 1735, 4to. Voyages de Tavernier, liv. v. c. 5. 10. Among the Arabians, though one of the first polished people in the east, the same custom still subsists. Description de l'Arabia par M. Niebuhr, p. 28. By a law in the kingdom of Arragon, as late as the year 1564, the punishment of one condemned to death cannot be miti- gated but by consent of the parties who have been injured. Fueros and obser- vancias del Reyno de Arragon. p. 204. 6. V^ If, after all the engagements to cease from enmity which I Have mentioned, any person renewed hostilities, and was guilty of any violence, either towards the person from whom he had received a composition, or towards his relations and heir6, this was deemed a most, heinous crime, and punished with extraor- dinary rigour- Tt wns an act. of direct rebellion against the authority of the PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. Si'3 magistrate, and waa repressed by the interposition of all his power. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. 9. i 8. 34. Capit. vol. i. p. 371. I 22. Thus the avenging of injuries was taken out of private hands, a legal composition was established, and peace and amity were restored, under the inspection, and by the authority of a judge. It is evident that at the time when the barbarians settled in the provinces of the Roman empire, they had fixed judges established among them with compulsive authority. Persons vested with this character are mentioned by the earliest historians. Du Cange, voc. Judices. The right of territorial jurisdiction was not altogether an usurpation of the feudal barons, or an inva- sion of the prerogative of the sovereign. There is good reason to believe, that the powerful leaders, who seized different districts of the countries which they conquered, and kept possession of them as allodial property, assumed from the beginning the right of jurisdiction, and exercised it within their own territories. This jurisdiction was supreme, and extended to all causes. The clearest proofs of this are produced by M. Bouquet. Le Droit publique de France eclairci, &c. torn. i. p. 206, &c. The privilege of judging his own vassals, appears to have been originally a right inherent in every baron who held a fief. As far back as the archives of nations can conduct us with any certainty, we find the jurisdiction and fief united. One of the earliest charters to a layman which i have met with, is that of Ludovicus Pius, A. D. 814. And it contains the right of territorial jurisdiction, in the most express and extensive terms. Capi- tul. vol. ii. p. 1405. There are many charters to churches and monasteries of a more early date, containing grants of a similar jurisdiction, and prohibiting any royal judge to enter the territories of those churches or monasteries, or to perform any act of judicial authority there. Bouquet Recueil des Hist. torn. iv. p. 628. 631. 633. torn. v. p. 703. 710. 752. 762. Muratori has published many very ancient charters containing the same immunities. Antiq. Ital. Dis- sert, lxx. In most of these deeds, the royal judge is prohibited from exacting the freda due to the possessor of territorial jurisdiction, which shows that they constituted a valuable part of the revenue of each superior lord at that juncture. The expense of obtaining a sentence in a court of justice during the middle ages was so considerable, that this circumstance alone was sufficient to render men unwilling to decide any contest in judicial form. It appears from a char- ter in the thirteenth century, that the baron who had the right of justice, re- ceived the fifth part of the value of every subject, the property of which was tried and determined in his court. If, after the commencement of a law-suit, the parties terminated the contest in an amicable manner, or by arbitration, they were nevertheless bound to pay the fifth part of the subject contested, to the court before which the suit had been brought. Hist, de Dauphine, Geneve, 1722, torn. i. p. 22. Similar to this is a regulation in the charter of liberty granted to the town of Friburg, A. D. 1120. If two of the citizens shall quarrel, and if one of them shall complain to the superior lord, or to his judge, and after commencing the suit, shall be privately reconciled to his adversary, the judge, if he does not approve of this reconciliation, may compel him to go on with his law-suit ; and all who were present at the reconciliation shall forfeit the favour of the superior lord. Historia Zaringo Badensis. Auctor. Jo. Dan. Schoepflinus. Carolsr. 1765, 4to. vol. v. p. 55. What was the extent of that jurisdiction which those who held fiefs possessed originally, we cannot now determine with certainty. It is evident that, during the disorders which prevailed in every kingdom of Europe, the great vassals took advantage of the feebleness of their monarchs, and enlarged their juris- diction to the utmost. As early as the tenth century, the more powerful barons had usurped the right of deciding all causes, whether civil or criminal. They had acquired the High Justice as well as the Low. Establ. de St. Louis, lib. i. c. 24, 25. Their sentences were final, and there lay no appeal from them to any superior court. Several striking instances of this are collected by Brussel. Traite des Fiefs, liv. iii. c. 11, 12, 13. Not satisfied with this, the more potent barons got their territories erected into Regalities, with almost every royal prerogative and jurisdiction. Instances of these were frequent in France. Bruss. ib. In Scotland, where the power of the feudal nobles became exor- bitant, they were very numerous. Historical Law Tracts, vol. i. tract vi. Even in England, though the authority of the Norman kings circumscribed the 544 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. jurisdiction of the barons within more narrow limits than in any other ieudal kingdom, several counties palatine wore erected, into which the king's judges could not enter, and no writ could come in the king's name, until it received the seal of the county palatine. Spelman. Gloss, voc. Comites Palatini ; Blackstone's Commentaries on the Laws of England, vol. iii. p. 78. These lords of Regalities had a right to claim or rescue their vassals from the king's judges, if they assumed any jurisdiction over them. Brussel, ubi supra. In the law of Scotland tins privilege was termed the right of repledging ; and the frequency of it not only interrupted the course of justice, but gave rise to great disorders in the exercise of it. Hist. Law Tracts, ib. The jurisdiction of the counties palatine seems to have been productive of like inconveniences in England. The remedies provided by princes against the bad effects of these usurpations of the nobles, or inconsiderate grants of the crown, were various, and gradually applied. Under Charlemagne and his immediate de.-cendants, the regal pre- rogative still retained great vigour, and the Duces, Comites, and Missi Dominici, the former of whom were ordinary and fixed judges, the latter extraordinary and itinerant judges, in the different provinces of their extensive dominions, exer- cised a jurisdiction co-ordinate with the barons in some cases, and superior to them in others. Du Cange, voc. Dux, Comites, and Missi. Murat. Antiq. Dissert. Tiii. and ix. But under the feeble race of monarchs who succeeded them, the authority of the royal judges declined, and the barons acquired that unlimited jurisdiction which has been described. Louis VI. of France attempted to revive the function of the Missi Dominici under the title of Juges des Exempts, but the barons were become too powerful to bear such an encroachment on their jurisdiction, and he was obliged to desist from employing them. Henaut Abrege Chron. torn. ii. p. 730. His successor (as has been observed) had re- course to expedients less alarming. The appeal de defaule de droit, or on ac- count of the refusal of justice, was the first which was attended with any considerable effect. According to the maxims of feudal law, if a baron had not as many vassals as enabled him to try by their peers the parties who offered to plead in his court, or if he delayed or refused to proceed in the trial, the cause might be carried, by appeal, to the court of the superior lord of whom the baron held, and tried there. De TEsprit des Loix, liv. xxviii. c. 28. Du Cange, voc. Defectus Justitia.' The number of peers or assessors in the court.v of barons was frequently very considerable. It appears from a criminal trial in the court of the viscount de Lautrec, A. D. 1299, that upwards of ttro hundred persons were present, and assisted in the trial, and voted in passing judgment. Hist, de Langued. par D. D. de Vic and Vaisette, torn. iv. Preuves, p. 1 14. But as the right of jurisdiction had been usurped by many inconsider- able barons, they were often unable to hold courts. This gave frequent oc- casion to such appeals, and rendered the practice familiar. By degrees such appeals began to be made from the courts of the more powerful barons, and it is evident, from a decision recorded by Brussel, that the royal judges were willing to give countenance to any pretext for them. Traite des Fiefs, torn. i. p. 235. 261. This species of appeal had less effect in abridging the jurisdiction of the nobles, than the appeal on account of the injustice of the sentence. When the feudal monarchs were powerful, and their judges possessed extensive authority, such appeals seem to have been frequent. Capitul. vol. i. p. 175. 180; and they were made in a manner suitable to the rudeness of a simple as which contributed towards the introduction and frequency of such appeals are enumerated Dc l'Esprit des Loix, liv. xxviii. c. 27. Nothing, however, was of such effect as the attention which auraarcha gave to the con- stitution and dignity of their courts of justice. It was the ancient custom for the feudal monarchs to preside themselves in their courts, and to administer jus- tice in person. BAarculf. lib. i. i 25. Murat. Dissert, xxxi. Charlemagne, while he was dressing, used to call parties into his presence, and having heard and considered the subject of litigation, gave judgment concerning it. Eginhartus, Vita Caroli Magni, cited by Madox, Hist, of Exchequer, vol. i. p. 91. This trial and decision of causes by the sovereigns themselves could not fail of rendering their courts respectable. St. Louis, who encouraged to the utmost the practice of appeals, revived this ancient custom, and administered justice in person with all the ancient simplicity. " I have often seen the saint," says Joinville, "sit under the shade of an oak in the wood of Vincennes, when all who had any complaint freely approached him. At other times he gave orders to spread a carpet in a garden, and seating himself upon it, heard the causes that were brought before him." Hist, de St. Louis, p. 13. edit. 1761. Princes of inferior rank, who possessed the right of justice, sometimes dispensed it in person, and presided in their tribunals. Two instances of this occur with respect to the Dauphines of Vienne. Hist, de Dauphims, torn. i. p. 18. torn, ii. p. 257. But as kings and princes could not decide every cause in person, nor bring them all to be determined in the same court ; they appointed Baillis, with a right of jurisdiction, in different districts of their kingdom. These pos- sessed powers somewhat similar to those of the ancient Comites. It was towards the end of the twelfth century and beginning of the thirteenth, that this office was first instituted in France. Brussel, liv. ii. c. 35. When the king had a court established in different quarters of his dominions, this invited his subjects to have recourse to it. It was the private interest of the Baillis, as well as an object of public policy, to extend their jurisdiction. They took advantage of every defect in the rights of the barons, and of every error in their proceedings, to remove causes out of their courts, and to bring them under their own cog- nizance. There was a distinction in the feudal law, and an extremely ancient one, between the high justice and the low. Capitul. 3. A. D. 812. $ 4. A. D. 815. i 3. Establ. de St. Louis, liv. i. c. 40. Many barons possessed the latter jurisdiction who had no title to the former. The former included the right of trying crimes of every kind, even the highest ; the latter was confined to petty trespasses. This furnished endless pretexts for obstructing, restraining, and reviewing the proceedings in the baron courts. Ordon.ii. 457. $ 25. 458. } 29. A regu- lation of greater importance succeeded the institution of Baillis. The king's supreme court or parliament was rendered fixed as to the place, and constant as to the time of its meetings. In France, as well as in the other feudal kingdoms, the king's court of justice was originally ambulatory, followed the person of the monarch, and was held only during some of the great festivals. Philip Augustus, A. D. 1305, rendered it stationary at Paris, and continued ltd terms during the greater part of the year. Pasquier Recherches, liv. ii. c. 2. et 3, &c. Ordon. torn. i. p. 366. $ 62. He and his successors vested extensive powers in that court ; they granted the members of it several privileges and distinctions which it would be tedious to enumerate. Pasquier, ib. Velly Hist. de France, torn. vii. p. 307. Persons eminent for integrity and skill in law were appointed judges there. Ib. By degrees the final decisions of all causes of importance was brought into the parliament of Paris, and the other parlia- ments, which administered justice in the king's name, in different provinces of the kingdom. This jurisdiction, however, the parliament of Paris acquired very slowly, and the great vassals of the crown made violent efforts in order to obstruct the attempts of this parliament to extend its authority. Towards the close of the thirteenth century, Philip the Fair was obliged to prohibit his parliament from taking cognizance of certain appeals brought into it from the courts of the count of Brctagne, ar.d to recognise and fMpecl his right <•'.' supreme and final jurisdiction MenMirea pour mtvil H« Prruves a I'^istoire Vol. II .—«.•> 546 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. de Bretagne, par Morice, torn. i. p. 1037. 1074. Charles VI. at the end of tile following century was obliged to confirm the rights of the dukes of Bretagne in Htill more ample form. Ibid. torn. ii. p. 580, 581. So violent was the opposi- tion of the barons to this right of appeal, which they considered as fatal to (heir privileges and power, that the authors of the Encyclopedie have mentioned several instances in which barons put to death, or mutilated, such persons as ventured to appeal from the sentences pronounced in their courts, to the par- liament of Paris, torn. xii. art. Parlemnit, p. 25. The progress of jurisdiction in the other feudal kingdoms, was in a great measure similar to that which we have traced in France, in England the terri- torial jurisdiction of the barons was both' ancient and extensive. Leg. Edw. Conf. No. 5. and 9. After the Norman conquest, it became more strictly feudal ; and it is evident from facts recorded in the English history, as well as from the institution of Counties Palatine, which I have already mentioned, that the usurpations of the nobles in England were not less bold or extensive than those of their contemporaries on the continent. The same expedients were employed to circumscribe or abolish those dangerous jurisdictions. William the Conqueror established a constant court in the hall of his palace ; from which the four courts now intrusted with the administration of justice in England took their rise. Henry II. divided his kingdom into six circuits, and sent, itinerant judges to hold their courts in them at stated seasons. Blackstone's Commentaries on the Laws of England, vol. iii. 57. Justices of the peace were appointed in every county by subsequent monarchs ; to whose jurisdiction the people gradually had recourse in many civil causes. The privileges of the Counties Palatine were gradually limited ; with respect to some points they were abolished ; and the administration of justice was brought into the king's courts, or before judges of his appointment. The several steps taken for this purpose are enumerated in Dairymple's History of Feudal Property, chap. vii. In Scotland the usurpations of the nobility were more exorbitant than in any other feudal kingdom. The progress of their encroachments, and the methods taken by the crown to limit or abolish their territorial and indepen- dent jurisdictions, both which I had occasion to consider and explain in a former work, differed very little from those of which I have now given the detail. History of Scotland. I should perplex myself and my readers in the labyrinth of German juris- prudence, if I were to attempt to delineate the progress of jurisdiction in tho empire, with a minute accuracy. It is sufficient to observe, that the authority which the Aulic council and imperial chamber now possess, took its rise from the same desire of redressing the abuses of territorial jurisdiction, and was acquired in the same manner that the royal courts attained influence in other countries of Europe. All the important facts with respect to both these par- ticulars may be found in Phil. Datt de pace publica Imperii, lib. iv. The capital articles are pointed out in Pfeffel Abrege de THistoire et Droit publique d'Allemagne, p. 556. 581. and in Traite du Droit publique de l'Empire par M. le Coq. de Villeray. The two last treatises are of great authority, having been composed under the eye of M. Schoepflin of Strasburg, one of the ablest public lawyers in Germany. Note [24]. Page 34. It is not easy to fix with precision the period at which ecclesiastics first began to claim exemption from the civil jurisdiction. It is certain that during the early and purest ages of the church, they pretended to no such immunity. The authority of the civil magistrate extended to all persons, and to all causes. This fact has not only been clearly established by Protestant authors, but is admitted by many Roman Catholics of eminence, and particularly by the writers in defence of the liberties of the Gallican church. There are several original papers published by Muratori, which show that, in the ninth and tenth centuries, causes of the greatest importance relating to ecclesiastics were still determined by civil judges. Antiq. Ital. vol. v. dissert, lxx. Proofs of this are produced likewise by M. Houard, Anciennes Loix des Francois, &c. vol. i. p. 209. Ecclesiastics did not shake off all at once their subjection to civil courts. This privilege, like their other usurpationst was acquired slowly, and step by PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 547 step. This exemption seems at first to have been merely an act of complai- sance, flowing from veneration for their character. Thus, from a charter of Charlemagne in favour of the church of Mans, A. D. 796, to which M. l'Abbe de Foy refers in his Notice de Diplomes. torn. i. p. 201. that monarch directs his judges, if any difference should arise between the administrators of the revenues of that church and any person whatever, not to summon the adminis- trators to appear in mallo publico : but first of all to meet with them, and to endeavour to accommodate the difference in an amicable manner. This indul- gence was in process of time improved into a legal exemption ; which was founded on the same superstitious respect of the laity for the clerical character and function. A remarkable instance of this occurs in a charter of Frederic Barbarossa, A. D. 1172, to the monastery of Altenburg. He grants them "judicium non tantum sanguinolentis plagae, sed vita? et mortis ;" he prohibits any of the royal judges from disturbing their jurisdiction ; and the reason which he gives for this ample concession is, "nam quorum, ex Dei gratia, ratione divini ministerii onus leve est, et jugum suave ; nos penitus nolumus illos oppressionis contumelia, vel manu Laica, fatigari." Mencken. Script, rer. Germ. vol. iiii p. 1067. It is not necessary for illustrating what is contained in the text, that I should describe the manner in which the code of the canon law was compiled, or show that the doctrines in it most favourable to the power of the clergy, are founded on ignorance, or supported by fraud or forgery. The reader will find a full account of these in Gerard. Van Mastrich. Historia Juris Ecclesiastici, et in Science de Gouvernement par M. Real, torn. vii. c. i. et 3. sect. 2, 3, &c. The history of the progress and extent of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, with an account of the arts which the clergy employed in order to draw causes of every kind into the spiritual courts, is no less curious, and would throw great light upon many of the customs and institutions of the dark ages ; but it is likewise foreign from the present subject. Du Cange in his Glossary, voc. Curia Christianitatis, has collected most of the causes with respect to which the clergy arrogated an exclusive jurisdiction, and refers to the authors, or original papers which confirm his observations. Giannone in his Civil His- tory of Naples, lib. xix. sect. 3. has arranged these under proper heads, and scrutinizes the pretensions of the church with his usual boldness and discern- ment. M. Fleury observes, that the clergy multiplied the pretexts for extending the authority of the spiritual courts with so much boldness that it was soon in their power to withdraw almost every person and every cause from the juris- diction of the civil magistrate. Hist. Eccles. torn. xix. Disc. Prelim. 16. But how ill-founded soever the jurisdiction of the clergy may have been, or what- ever might be the abuses to which their manner of exercising it gave rise, the principles and forms of their jurisprudence were far more perfect than that which was known in the civil courts. It seems to be certain that ecclesiastics never submitted, during any period in the middle ages, to the laws contained in the codes of the barbarous nations, but were governed entirely by the Roman law. They regulated all their transactions by such of its maxims as were preserved by tradition, or were contained in the Theodosian code, and other books extant among them. This we learn from a custom which prevailed universally in those ages. Every person was permitted to choose among the various codes of laws then in force, that to which he was willing to conform. In any transaction of importance, it was usual for the persons contracting, to mention the law to which they submitted, that it might be known how any controversy that should arise between them was to be decided. Innumerable proofs of this occur in the charters of the middle ages. But the clergy consi- dered it as such a valuable privilege of their order to be governed by the Roman law, that when any person entered into holy orders, it was usual for him to renounce the code of laws to which he had been formerly subject, and to declare that he now submitted to the Roman law. Constat me Johannem clericum, filium quondam Verandi, qui professus sum, ex natione mea, lege vivere Langobardorum, sed tamen, pro honore ecclesiastico, lege nunc videor viverc Romana. Charta, A. D. 1072. Farulfus presbyter qui professus sum, more sacerdotii mei, lege vivere Romana. Charta, A. D. 1075. Muratori Antichita Estensi. vol. i. p. 78. See likewise Houard Ancienncs Lois dec Francois, &c. vol. i. p. 208. 548 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. The code of the canon law began to be compiled early in the ninth century. Mem. de l'Acad. des Inscript. torn, xviii. p. 346, &c. It was above two centu- ries after that before any collection was made of those customs, which were the rule of judgments in the courts of the barons. Spiritual judges decided, of course, according to written and known laws: lay judges, left without any fixed «mido, were directed by loose traditionary customs. But besides this general advantage of the canon law, its forms and principles were more consonant to reason, and more favourable to the equitable decision of every point in contro- versy, than those which prevailed in lay courts. It appears, from Notes 21 and 23, concerning private wars, and the trial by combat, that the whole spirit of ecclesiastical jurisprudence was adverse to those sanguinary customs which were destructive of justice; and the whole force of ecclesiastical authority was exerted to abolish them, and to substitute trials by law and evidence in their room. Almost all the forms in lay courts, which contribute to establish, and continue to preserve order in judicial proceedings, are borrowed from the canon law. Fleury Instit. du Droit, canon, part iii. c. 6. p. 52. St. Louis, in his Establissemens, con- firms many of his new regulations concerning property, and the administration of justice, by the authority of the canon law, from which he borrowed them. Thus, for instance, the first hint of attaching moveables forthe recovery of a debt, was taken from the canon law. Estab. lib. ii. c. 21 et 40. And likewise the cessio bonorum, by a person who was insolvent. Ibid. In the same manner he esta- blished new regulations with respect to the effects of persons dying intestate, liv. i. c. 89. These and many other salutary regulations the canonists borrowed from the Roman law. Many other examples might be produced of more per- fect jurisprudence in the canon law than was known in lay courts. For that reason it was deemed a high privilege to be subject to ecclesiastical jurisdic- tion. Among the many immunities, by which men were allured to engage in the dangerous expeditions for the recovery of the Holy Land, one of the most considerable was the declaring such as took the Cross to be subject only to the spiritual courts, and to the rules of decision observed in them. See Note 13. and Du Cange, voc. Cruris Priviltgia. Note [25]. Page 35. The rapidity with which the knowledge and study of the Roman law spread over Europe is amazing. The copy of the Pandects was found at Amalphi, A. D. 1137. Irnerius opened a college of civil law at Bologna a few years after. Gian. Hist, book xi. c. 2. It began to be taught as a part of academical learn- ing in different parts of France before the middle of the century. Vaccarius gave lectures on the civil law at Oxford, as early as the year 1147. A regular system of feudal law, formed plainly in imitation of the Roman code, was com- posed by" two Milanese lawyers about the year 1150. Gratian published the code of canon law, with large additions and emendations, about the same time. The earliest collection of those customs, which served as the rules of decision in the courts of justice, is the Assises de Jerusalem. They were compiled, as the preamble informs us, in the year 1099, and are called Jus Consuetudinarium quo regebatur regnum orientale. Willerm. Tyr. lib. xix. c. 2. But peculiar circumstances gave occasion to this early compilation. The victorious cru- saders settled as a colony in a foreign country, and adventurers from all the different nations of Europe composed this new society. It was necessary on that account to ascertain the laws and customs which were to regulate the transactions of business, and the administration of justice among them. But in no country of Europe was there, at that time, any collection of customs, nor had any attempt been made to render law fixed. The first undertaking of that kind was by Glanville, Lord Chief Justice of England, in his Tractatus de Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliae, composed about the year 1181. The Regiam Majestatem in Scotland, ascribed to David I. seems to be an imitation, and a servile one, of Glanville. Several Scottish antiquaries, under the influ- ence of that pious credulity, which disposes men to assent, without hesitation, to whatever they deem for the honour of their native country, contend zealously, that the Regiam Majestatem is a production prior to the treatise of Glanville ; and have brought themselves to believe, that a nation, in a superior state of improvement, borrowed its laws and institutions from one considerably less ad- PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 549 ranced in its political progress. The internal evidence (were it iny province to examine it) by which this theory might be refuted, is, in my opinion, decisive. The external circumstances which have seduced Scottish authors into this mis- take, have been explained with so much precision and candour by Sir David Dalrymple, in his examination of some of the arguments for the high antiquity of Regiam Majestatem, Edin. 1769, 4to. that it is to be hoped the controversy will not be again revived. Pierre de P'ontaines, who tells us, that he was the first who had attempted such a work in France, composed his Conseil, which contains an account of the customs of the country of Vermandois, in the reign of St. Louis, which began, A. D. 1226. Beaunianoir, the author of the Cous- tumes de Beauvoisis, lived about the same time. The Establissemens of St. Louis, containing a large collection of the customs which prevailed within the royal domains, were published by the authority of that monarch. As soon as men became acquainted with the advantages of having written customs and laws, to which they could have recourse on every occasion, the practice of col- lecting them became common. Charles VII. of France, by an ordonnance, A. D. 1453, appointed the customary Jaws in every province of France to be col- lected and arranged. Velley and Villaret, Histoire, torn. xvi. p. 113. His successor, Louis XI. renewed the injunction. But this salutary undertaking hath never been fully executed, and the jurisprudence of the French nation remains more obscure and uncertain than it would have been if these prudent regulations of their monarchs had taken effect. A mode of judicial determina- tion was established in the middle ages, which affords the clearest proofs that judges, while they had no other rule to direct their decrees but unwritten and traditionary customs, were often at a loss how to find out the facts and prin- ciples, according to which they were bound to decide. They were obliged, in dubious cases, to call a certain number of old men, and to lay the case before them, that they might inform them what was the practice or custom with regard to the point. This was called Enqueste par tourbe. Du Cange, voc. Turba. The effects of the revival of the Roman jurisprudence have been explained by M. de Montesquieu, liv. xxviii. c. 42, and by Mr. Hume, Hist, of England, vol. ii. p. 441. I have adopted many of their ideas. Who can pretend to review any subject which such writers have considered, without receiving from them light and information ? At the same time I am convinced, that the knowledge of the Roman law was not so entirely lost in Europe during the middle ages, as is commonly believed. My subject does not require me to examine this point. Many striking facts with regard to it are collected by Donato Antonio d'Asti Dall' Uso e autorita della regione civile nelle provincie dell Imperio Occidentale. Nap. 1751, 2 vols. 8vo. That the civil law is intimately connected with the municipal jurisprudence in several countries of Europe, is a fact so well known, that it needs no illus- tration. Even in England, where the common law is supposed to form a sys- tem perfectly distinct from the Roman code, and although such as apply in that country to the study of the common law, boast of this distinction with some degree of affectation, it is evident that many of the ideas and maxims of the civil law are incorporated into the English jurisprudence. This is well illus- trated by the ingenious and learned author of Observations on the Statutes, chiefly the more ancient, 3d edit. p. 76, &c. Note [26]. Page 36 The whole history of the middle ages makes it evident, that war was the sole profession of gentlemen, and almost the only object attended to in their educa- tion. Even after some change in manners began to take place, and the civil arts of life had acquired some reputation, the ancient ideas with respect to the accomplishments necessary for a person of noble birth, continued long in force. In the Memoires de Fleuranges, p. 9, &c. we have an account of the youthful exercises and occupations of Francis I. and they were altogether martial and athletic. That father of letters owed his relish for them, not to education, but to his own good sense and good taste. The manners of the superior order of ecclesiastics during the middle ages furnish the strongest proof that, in some instances, the distinction of professions was not completely ascertained in Europe. The functions and character of the clergy are obviously very different 650 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. from those of laymen ; and among the inferior orders of churchmen, this con- stituted a distinct character separate from that of other citizens. But the dig- nified ecclesiastics, who were frequently of noble birth, were above such a dis- tinction ; they retained the idea of what belonged to them as gentlemen, and in spite of the decrees of popes, or the canons of councils, they bore arms, led their vassals to the field, and fought at their head in battle. Among them the priesthood was scarcely a separate profession ; the military accomplishments which they thought essential to them as gentlemen, were cultivated ; the theo- logical science, and pacific virtues suitable to their spiritual function, were neglected and despised. As soon as the science of law became a laborious study, and the practice of it a separate profession, such persons as rose to eminence in it obtained honours which had formerly been appropriated to soldiers. Knighthood was the most illustrious mark of distinction during several ages, and conferred privileges to which rank or birth alone were not entitled. To this high dignity persons emi- nent for their knowledge of law were advanced, and were thereby placed on a level with those whom their military talents had rendered conspicuous. Miles Justitice, Miles Literatus, became common titles. Matthew Paris mentions such knights as early as A. D. 1251. If a judge attained a certain rank in the courts of justice, that alone gave him a right to the honour of knighthood. Pasquier Recherches, liv. xi. c. 16. p. 130. Dissertations historiques sur la Chevalerie, par Honore de Sainte Marie, p. 164, &c. A profession that led to offices, which ennobled the persons that held them, grew into credit, and the people of Europe became accustomed to see men rise to eminence by civil as well as military talents. Note [27]. Page 37. The chief intention of these notes was to bring at once under the view of my readers, such facts and circumstances as tend to illustrate or confirm what is contained in that part of the history to which they refer. When these lay scattered in many different authors, and were taken from books not generally known, or which many of my readers might find it disagreeable to consult, I thought it would be of advantage to collect them together. But when every thing necessary for the proofor illustration of my narrative or reasoning may be found in any book which is generally known, or deserves to be so, I shall satisfy myself with referring to it. This is the case with respect to Chivalry. Almost every fact which I have mentioned in the text, together with many other curious and. instructive particulars concerning this singular institution, may bo found in Memoires sur l'ancienne Chevalerie considered comme unc Establissc- ment politique et militaire, par M. de la Curne de St. Palaye. Note [28]. Page 39. The subject of my inquiries does not call me to write a history of the pro- gress of science. The facts and observations which I have produced, are suffi- cient to illustrate the effects of its progress upon manners and the state of society. While science was altogether extinct in the western parts of Europe, it was cultivated in Constantinople and other parts of the Grecian empire. But the subtile genius of the Greeks turned almost entirely to theological disputa- tion. The Latins borrowed that spirit from them, and many of the controver- sies which still occupy and divide theologians, took their rise among the Greeks, from whom the other Europeans derived a considerable part of their knowledge. See the testimony of ./Eneas Sylvius ap. Conringiurn du antiq. academicis, p. 43. Histoire literaire de France, torn. vii. p. 113, Sec. torn. be. p. 151, &c. Soon after the empire of the Caliphs was established in the East, some illus- trious princes arose among them, who encouraged science. But when the Arabians turned their attention to the literature cultivated by the ancient Greeks and Romans, the chaste and correct taste of their works of genius ap- peared frigid and unaniinatcd to a people of a more warm imagination. Though they could not admire the poets and historians of Greece or of Rome, they were sensible of the merit of their philosophers. The operations of the intellect are more fixed and uniform than those of the fancy or taste. Truth makes an im- pression nearly the same in every place ; the ideas of what is beautiful, elegant. PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 551 er sublime, vary in different climates. The Arabians, though they neglected Homer, translated the most eminent of the Greek philosophers into their own language ; and, guided by their precepts and discoveries, applied themselves with great ardour to the study of geometry, astronomy, medicine, dialectics, and metaphysics. In the three former, they made considerable and useful im- provements, which have contributed not a little to advance those sciences to that high degree of perfection which they have attained, in the two latter, they chose Aristotle for their guide, and refining on the subtle and distinguishing spirit which characterizes his philosophy, they rendered it in a great degree frivolous or unintelligible. The schools established in the East for teaching and cultivating these sciences were in high reputation. They communicated their love of science to their countrymen, who conquered Africa and Spain ; and the schools instituted there were little inferior in fame to those in the East. Many of the persons who distinguished themselves by their proficiency in science during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,, were educated among the Arabians. Bruckerus collects many instances of this, Histor. Philos. v. iii. p. 681, &c. Almost all the men eminent for science, during several centuries, if they did not resort in person to the schools of Africa and Spain, were instructed in the philosophy of the Arabians. The first knowledge of the Aristotelian philosophy in the middle ages was acquired by translations of Aristotle's works out of the Arabic. The Arabian commentators were deemed the most skilful and authen- tic guides in the study of his system. Conring. Antiq. Acad. Diss. iii. p. 95, &c. Supplem. p. 241, &c. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. iii. p. 932, &c. From them the schoolmen derived the genius and principles of their philosophy, which con- tributed so much to retard the progress of true science. The establishment of colleges or universities is a remarkable era in literary history. The schools in cathedrals and monasteries confined themselves chiefly to the teaching of grammar. There were only one or two masters employed in that office. But in colleges, professors were appointed to teach all the differ- ent parts of science. The course or order of education was fixed. The time that ought to be allotted to the study of each science was ascertained. A regu- lar form of trying the proficiency of students was prescribed ; and academical titles and honours were conferred on such as acquitted themselves with appro- bation. A good account of the origin and nature of these is given by Seb. Bacmeisterus Antiquitates Rostochienses, sive Historia Urbis et Academics Rostoch. ap. Monumenta inedita Rer. Germ, per E. J. de Westphalen, vol. iii. p. 781. Lips. 1743. The first obscure mention of these academical degrees in the university of Paris (from which the other universities in Europe have bor- rowed most of their customs and institutions) occurs A. D. 1215. Crevier. Hist, de l'Univ. de Paris, torn. i. p. 296, &c. They were completely established, A. D. 1231. lb. 248. It is unnecessary to enumerate the several privileges to which bachelors, masters, and doctors were entitled. One circumstance is sufficient to demonstrate the high degree of estimation in which they were held. Doctors in the different faculties contended with knights for precedence, and the dispute was terminated in many instances by advancing the former to the dig- nity of knighthood, the high prerogatives of which I have mentioned. It was even asserted that a doctor had a right to that title without creation. Bartolus taught — doctorem actualiter regentem in jure civili per decennium effici mili- tem ipso facto. Hcnore de St. Marie Dissert, p. 165. This was called Cheva- lerie de Lectures, and the persons advanced to that dignity, Milites Clerici. These new establishments for education, together with the extraordinary honours conferred on learned men, greatly increased the number of scholars. In the year 1262, there were ten thousand students in the university of Bologna; and it appears from the history of that university, that law was the only science taught in it at that time. In the year 1340, there were thirty thousand in the university of Oxford. Speed's Chron. ap. Anderson's Chronol. Deduction of Commerce, vol. i. p. 172- In the same century, ten thousand persons voted in a question agitated in the university of Paris; and as graduates alone were admitted to that privilege, the number of students must have been very great. Velly Hist, de France, torn. xi. p. 147. There were indeed few universities in Europe at that time; but such a number of students may nevertheless be pro- r 1771. in commemoration of 564 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. the birth of his grandson, he put it under the immediate protection of the most Holy Mary in the mystery of her immaculate conception. Constitutioncs de ]a Real y distinguida Orden. Espanola de Carlos III. p. 7. To undertake the defence of the Virgin Mary's honour, had such a resemblance to that species of refined gallantry, which was the original object of chivalry, that the zeal with which the military orders bound themselves, by a solemn vow, to defend it, was worthy of a true knight in those ages, when the spirit of the institution . subsisted in full vigour. But in the present age, it must excite some surprise to see the institution of an illustrious order connected with a doctrine so ex- travagant and destitute of any foundation in scripture. Note [37]. Page 76. I have frequently had occasion to take notice of the defects in police during the middle ages, occasioned by the feebleness of government, and the want of proper subordination among the different ranks of men. I have observed in a former Note, that, this greatly interrupted the intercourse between nations, and even between different places in the same kingdom. The description which the Spanish historians give of the frequency of rapine, and murder, and every act of violence, in all the provinces of Spain, are amazing, and present to us the idea of a society but little removed from the disorder and turbulence of that which, has been called a state of nature. Zurita Anales de Arrag. i. 175. JEl. Ant. Nebrissensis rer. a Ferdin. gestar. Hist. ap. Schottum, ii. 849. Though the excess of these disorders rendered the institution of the Santa Hermandad necessary, great care was taken at first to avoid giving any offence or alarm to the nobility. The jurisdiction of the judges of the Hermandad was expressly confined to crimes which violated the public peace. All other offences were left to the cognizance of the ordinary judges. If a person was guilty of the most notorious perjury, in any trial before a judge of the Hermandad, he could not punish him, but was obliged to remit the case to the ordinary judge of the place. Commentaria in Regias Hispan. Constitut. per Alph. de Azevedo, pars v. p. 220, &c. fol. Duaci, 1612. Notwithstanding these restrictions, the barons were early sensible how much the establishment of the Hermandad would en- croach on their jurisdiction. In Castile some opposition was made to the in- stitution ; but Ferdinand had the address to obtain the consent of the Consta- ble to the introduction of the Hermandad into that part of the kingdom where his estate lay ; and by that means, as well as the popularity of the institution, he surmounted every obstacle that stood in its way. /El. Ant. Nebrissen. 851. In Arragon, the nobles combined against it with greater spirit ; and Ferdinand, though he supported it with vigour, was obliged to make some concessions, in order to reconcile them. Zurita Anales de Arrag. iv. 356. The power and revenue of the Hermandad in Castile seems to have been very great. Ferdi- nand, when preparing for the war against the Moors in Granada, required of the Hermandad to furnish him sixteen thousand beasts of burden, together with eight thousand men to conduct them, and he obtained what he demanded. yEl. Ant. Nebriss. 881. The Hermandad has been found to be of so much use in preserving peace, and restraining or detecting crimes, that it is still continued in Spain ; but as it is no longer necessary either for moderating the power of the nobility, or extending that of the crown, the vigour and authority of the institution diminishes gradually. Note [38]. Page 77. Nothing is more common among antiquaries, and there is not a more copious source of error, than to decide concerning the institutions and manners of past ages, by the forms and ideas which prevail in their own times. The French lawyers in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, having found their sove- reigns in possession of absolute power, seem to think it a duty incumbent on them to maintain that such unbounded authority belonged to the crown in every period of their monarchy. u The government of France," says M. de Real very gravely, "is purely monarchical at this day, as it was from the be- ginning. Our kings were absolute- originally as they are at present." Science du Governement, torn. ii. p. 31. It is impossible, however, to conceive two statey of civil society more unlike to each other, than that of the French nation V HOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 565 Mndef Clovis, and thai under Lewis XV. It is evident from the codes of laws of the various tribes which settled in Gaul and the countries adjacent to it, as well as from the history of Gregory of Tours, and other early annalists, that among all these people the form of government was extremely rude and simple, and that they had scarcely begun to acquire the first rudiments of that order and police which are necessary in extensive societies. The king or leader had the command of soldiers or companions who followed his standard from choice, not by constraint. I have produced the clearest evidence of this, Note 6. An event related by Gregory of Tours, lib. iv. c. 14, affords the most striking proof of the dependence of the early French kings on the sentiment and incli- nation of their people. Clotaire I., having marched at the head of his army, in the year 5.Y3, against the Saxons, that people, intimidated at his approach, sued for peace, and offered to pay a large sum to the offended monarch. Clo- taire was willing to close with what they proposed. But his army insisted to he led forth to battle. The king employed all his eloquence to persuade them to accept of what the Saxons were ready to pay. The Saxons, in order to sooth them, increased their original offer. The king renewed his solicitations: but the army enraged, rushed upon the king, tore his tent in pieces, dragged him out of it, and would have slain him on the spot, if he had not consented to lead them instantly against the enemy. If the early monarchs of France possessed such limited authority, even while at the head of their army, their prerogative during peace will be found to be still more confined. They ascended the throne not by any hereditary right, but in consequence of the election of their subjects. In order to avoid an un- necessary number of quotations, I refer my readers to Hottomanni Francogallia, cap. vi. p. 47. edit. 1573, where they will find the fullest proof of this from Gregory of Tours, Amoinus, and the most authentic historians of the Mero- vingian kings. The effect of this election was not to invest them with absolute power. Whatever related to the general welfare of the nation, was submitted to public deliberation, and determined by the suffrage of the people, in the an- nual assemblies called Les Champs de Mars and Les Champs de Mai. These assemblies were called Champs, because, according to the custom of all the barbarous nations, they >vere held in the open air, in some plain capable of con- taining the vast number of persons who had a right to be present. Jo. Jac. Sorberus de Comitiis veterum Germanorum, vol. i. i 19, &c. They were de- nominated Champs de Mars and de Mai, from the months in which they were held. Every free man seems to have had a right to be present in these assem- blies. Sorberus, ibid. } 133, &c. The ancient annals of the Franks describe the persons who were present in the assembly held A. D. 788, in these words : " In placito Ingelheimensi conveniunt pontifices, majores, minores, sacerdotes, reguli, duces, comites, praefecti, cives, oppidani," Apud Sorber. sect. 304. " There every thing that concerned the happiness of their country," says an ancient historian, " every thing that could be of benefit to the Franks, was considered and enjoined.'" Fredegarius ap. Du Cange Glossar. voc. Campus Martii. Clotharius II. describes the business, and acknowledges the authority of these assemblies. " They are called," says he, " that whatever relates to the common safety may be considered and resolved by common deliberation ; and whatever they determine, to that I will conform." Amoinus de Gest. Franc, lib. iv. c. i. ap. Bouquet Recueil, iii. 116. The statutory clauses, or words of legislative authority in the decrees issued in these assemblies, run not in the name of the king alone. "We have treated," says Childebert, in a decree, A. D. 532, in the assembly of March, " together with our nobles, con- cerning some affairs, and we now publish the conclusion, that it may come to the knowledge of all." Childeb. Decret. ap. Bouquet Recueil des Histor. torn, iv. p. 3. We have agreed, together with our vassals. Ibid, i 2. " It is agreed in the assembly in which we were all united," Ibid. $ 4. The Salic laws, the most venerable monument of French jurisprudence, were enacted in the same manner. " Dictaverunt Salicam legem proceres ipsius gentis, qui tunc temporis apud earn erant Rectores. Sunt autem electi de pluribus viri quatuor — qui per tres Mallos convenientes, omnes causarum origines solicits discurrendo, trac- tantes de singulis judicium decreverunt hoc modo." Preef. Leg. Salic, ap. Bouquet. Ibid. p. 112. " Hoe decretnm est apud regem et principes ejus, et 566 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS, apud cunctum populum Christianuni, qui infra regnum Merwingorum ci tunt." Ibid. p. 124. Nay, even in tlieir charters, llie kings of the first race are careful to specify that they were granted with the consent of their vassals. " Ego Childebertus Ilex una cum consensu et voluntate Francorum," «Jcc. A. P. 558. Bouquet, ibid. 622. " Clotharius III. una cum patribus nostris epis- copis, optimatibus, ca:terisque palatii nostrj ministris, A. D. 664." Ibid. 648. li De consensu fidelium nostrorum." Mably Observ. torn. i. p. 239. The his- torians likewise describe the functions of the king in the national assemblies in such terms as imply that his authority there was extremely small, and that every thing depended on the court itself. " Ipse Rex," says the author of the Anales Francorum, speaking of the Field of March, u sedebat in sella regia. circumstante exercitu, preecipiebatque is, die illo, quicquid a Francis decretuni erat." Bouquet Ilecueil, torn. ii. p. 647. That the general assemblies exercised supreme jurisdiction over all persons. >nd with respect to all causes, is so evident as to stand in need of no proof. The trial of Brunehaut, A. D. 613, how unjust soever the sentence against her may be, as related by Fredegarius, Chron. cap. 42. Bouquet, ib. 430, is in itself sufficient proof of this. The notorious violence and iniquity of the sentence serve to demonstrate the extent of jurisdiction which this assembly possessed, as a prince so sanguinary as Clothaire II. thought the sanction of its authority would be sufficient to justify his rigorous treatment of the mother and grand- mother of so many kings. With respect to conferring donatives on the prince, we may observe, that among nations whose manners and political institutions are simple, the public as well as individuals, having few wants, they are little acquainted with taxes, and free uncivilized tribes disdain to submit to any stated imposition. This was remarkably the case of the Germans, and of all the various people that issued from that country. Tacitus pronounces two tribes not to be of German origin, because they submitted to pay taxes. De Morib. Germ. c. 43. And speaking of another tribe according to the ideas prevalent in Germany, he says, " They were npt degraded by the imposition of taxes." Ibid. c. 29. Upon the settlement of the Franks in Gaul, we may conclude, that while elated with the consciousness of victory, they would not renounce the high-spirited ideas of their ancestors, or voluntarily submit to a burden which they regarded as a badge of servitude. The evidence of the earliest records and historians justify this conclusion. M. de Montesquieu, in the twelfth and subsequent chapters of the thirteenth book of l'Esprit des Loix, and M. de Mably Observat. sur l'Hist. de France, torn. i. p. 247, have investigated this fact with great attention, and have proved clearly that the property of freemen among the Franks was not subject to any stated tax. That the state required nothing from persons of this rank, but military service at their own expense, and that they should entertain the king in their houses when he was upon any progress through his dominions, or his officers when sent on any public employment, furnishing them with carriages and horses. Monarchs subsisted almost entirely upon the reve- nues of their own domains, and upon the perquisites arising from the adminis- tration of justice, together with a few small fines and forfeitures, exacted from such as had been guilty of certain trespasses. It is foreign from my subject to enumerate these. The reader may find them in Observat. de M. de Mably, vol. i. p. 267. When any extraordinary aid was granted by freemen to their sovereign, it v,-as purely voluntarj'. In the annual assembly of March or May, it was the custom to make the king a present of money, of horses or arms, or of some ptlier thing of value. This was an ancient custom, and derived from their ancestors the Germans. " Mos est civitatibus, ultro ac viritim conferre princi- pibus vel armentormn vel frugum, quod pro honore acceptum, etiam necessita- tibus subvenit." Tacit, de Mor. Germ. c. 15. These gifts, if we may form a judgment concerning them, from the general terms in which they are mentioned by the ancient historians, were considerable, and made no small part of the royal revenue. Many passages to this purpose are produced by M. du Cange, Dissert, iv. sur Joinville, 153. Sometimes a conquered people specified the gift which they bound themselves to pay annually, and it was exacted as a debt if they failed. Annales Mctenses, ap. Du Cange, ibid. p. 155. It is probable, that PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 567 the first step towards taxation was to ascertain the value of these gifts, which were originally gratuitous, and to compel the people to pay the sum at which they were rated. Still, hov/ever, some memory of their original was preserved, and the aids granted to monarchs, in all the kingdoms of Europe were termed benevolences or fre- gifts . The kings of the second race in France were raised to the throne hy the elec- tion of the people. " Pepinus Rex pius," says an author who wrote a few years after the transaction which he records, " per authoritatem Papas, et unctionem sancti chrismatis et electionem omnium Francorum in regni solio sublimatus est." Clausula de Pepini consecratione ap. Bouq. Recueil des Histor. torn. v. p. 9. At the same time, as the chief men of the nation had transferred the crown from one family to another, an oath was exacted of them, that they should maintain on the throne the family which they had now promoted ; " ut nunquam de alterius lurnbis regem in sevo proesumant eligcre/' Ibid. p. 10. This oath the nation faithfully observed during a considerable space of time. The posterity of Pepin kept possession of the throne ; but with respect to the manner of dividing their dominions among their children, princes were obliged to consult the general assembly of the nation. Thus Pepin himself, A. D. 768, appointed his two sons, Charles and Charlomannus, to reign as joint sovereigns ; but he did this, " una cum consensu Francorum et procerum suorum seu et episcoporum," before whom he laid the matter in their general assembly. " Conventus apud sanctum Dionysium," Capitular, vol. i. p. 187. This destina- tion the French confirmed in a subsequent assembly, which was called upon the death of Pepin : for, as Eginhart relates, they not only appointed them kings, but by their authority they regulated the limits of their respective territories. Vita Car. Magni ap. Bouquet Recueil, torn. v. p. 90. In the same manner, it was by the authority of the supreme assemblies, that any dispute which arose among the descendants of the royal family was determined. Charlemagne recog- nises this important part of their jurisdiction, and confirms it in his charter con- cerning the partition of his dominions ; for he appoints, that, in case of any uncertainty with respect to the right of the several competitors, he whom the people shall choose, shall succeed to the crown. Capitular, vol. i. 442. Under the second race of kings, the assembly of the nation, distinguished by the name of Conventus, Malli, Placita, were regularly assembled once a year at least, and frequently twice in the year. One of the most valuable monuments of the History of France is the treatise of Hincmarus, archbishop of Rheims, de ordine Palatii. He died, A. D. 882, only sixty-eight years after Charlemagne, and he relates in that short discourse the facts which were communicated to him hy Adalhardus. a minister and confidant of Charlemagne. From him we learn, that this great monarch never failed to hold the general assembly of his subjects every year. " In quo placito generalitas universorurn majorum tarn clericorum quam laicorum conveniebat." Hincm. oper. edit. Sirmondi, vol. ii. c. 29. p. 211. In these assemblies, matters which related to the general safety and state of the kingdom were always discussed, before they entered upon any private or less important business. Ibid. c. 33. p. 213. His immediate successors imitated his example, and transacted no affair of importance without the advice of their great council. Under the second race of kings, the genius of the French government conti- nued to be in a good measure democratical. The nobles, the dignified eccle- siastics, and the great officers of the crown, were not the only members of the national council ; the people, or the whole body of free men, either in person or by their representatives, had a right to be present in it. Hincmarus, in describ- ing the manner of holding the general assemblies, says, that if the weather was favourable, they met in the open air ; but if otherwise, they had different apart- ments allotted to them : so that the dignified clergy were separated from the laity, and the comites vel hujusmodi principes sibirnet honorificabiliter a ca'tera multitudine segregarentur. Ibid. c. 35. p. 114. Agobardus, archbishop of Lyons, thus describes a national council in the year 833, wherein he was present. " Qui ubique conventus extititex reverendissimis episcopis, et magnificentissi- mis viris illustribus, collegio quoque abbatum et comitum, promiscusequc ffitatis et dignitatis populo." The cietera muUitudit of Hincmarus is the same with the yopulvs of Airobardus. and both dosctihfl tb° inferior ordor of free. men. the same 568 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. who were afterwards known in France by the name of the third estate, and in England by the name of commons. The people, as well as the members of higher dignity, were admitted to a share of the legislative power. Thus, by a law, A. D. 803, it is ordained, " that the question shall be put to the people, with respect to every new law, and if they shall agree to it, they shall confirm it by their signature." Capit. vol. i. 394. There are two capitularia u Inch convey to us a full idea of the part which the people took in the administration of government. When they felt the weight of any grievance, they had a right to petition the sovereign for redress. One of these petitions, in which they desire that ecclesiastics might be exempted from bearing arms, and from serving in person against the enemy, is still extant. It is addressed to Charlemagne, A. D. 830, and expressed in such terms as could have been used only by men conscious of liberty, and of the extensive privileges which they possessed. They conclude with requiring him to grant their demand, if he wished that they should any longer continue faithful subjects to him. That great monarch, instead of being offended or surprised at the boldness of their petition, received it in a most gracious manner, and signified his willingness to comply with it. But sensible that he himself did not possess legislative authority, he promises to lay the matter before the next general assembly, that such things as were of common concern to all might be there considered and established by common consent. Capitul. torn. i. p. 405 — 409. As the people by their petitions brought matters to be proposed in the general assembly, we learn from another capitu- lare the form in which they were approved there, and enacted as laws. The propositions were read aloud, and then the people were required to declare whether they assented to them or not. They signified their assent by crying three times, " We are satisfied," and then the capitulare was confirmed by the subscription of the monarch, the clergy, and the chief men of the laity. Capitul. torn. i. p. 627. A. D. 822. It seems probable from a capitulare of Carolus Cal- vus, A. D. 851, that the sovereign could not refuse his assent to what was pro- posed and established by his subjects in the general assembly. Tit. ix. $ 6. Capitul. vol. ii. p. 47. It is unnecessary to multiply quotations concerning the legislative power of the national assembly of France, under the second race, or concerning its right to determine with regard to peace and war. The uniform style of the Capitularia is an abundant confirmation of the former. The reader who desires any farther information with respect to the latter, may consult Les Origines ou FAncicn Gouvernement de la France, &c. torn. iii. p. 87, &c. What has been said with respect to the admission of the people or their repre- sentatives into the supreme assembly merits attention, not only in tracing the progress of the French government, but on account of the light which it throws upon a similar question, agitated in England, concerning the time when the commons became part of the legislative body in that kingdom. Note [39]. Page 78. That important change which the constitution of France underwent, when the legislative power was transferred from the great council of the nation to the king, has been explained by the French antiquaries with less care than they bestow in illustrating other events in their history. For that reason I have endeavoured with greater attention to trace the steps which led to this memora- ble revolution. 1 shall here add some particulars, which tend to throw addi- tional light upon it. The Leges Salicae, the Leges Burgundionuin, and other codes published by the several tribes which settled in Gaul, were general laws extending to every person, to every province and district where the authority of those tribes was acknowledged. But they seem to have become obsolete ; and the reason of their falling into disuse is very obvious. Almost the W hole pro- perty of the nation was allodial when these laws were framed. Fut when the feudal institutions became general, and gave rise to an infinite variety of ques- tions peculiar to that species of tenure, the ancient codes were of no use in deciding with regard to these, because they could not contain regulations appli- cable to cases which did not exist at the time when they were compiled. This considerable change in the nature of property, made it necessary to publish the new regulations contained in the Capitularia. Many of these, as is evident from the perus;il of them, were public laws extending to the whole French PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 669 nation, in the general assembly of which they were enacted. The weakness of the greater part of the monarchs of the second race, and the disorder into which the nation was thrown by the depredations of the Normans, encouraged ' the barons to usurp an independent power, formerly unknown in France. The nature and extent of that jurisdiction which they assumed, I have formerly con- sidered. The political union of the kingdom was at an end, its ancient consti- tution was dissolved, and only a feudal relation subsisted between the king and his vassals. The regal jurisdiction extended no further than the domains of the crown. Under the last kings of the second race, these were reduced almost to nothing. Under the first kings of the third race, they comprehended little more than the patrimonial estate of Hugh Capet, which he annexed to the crown. Even with this accession, they continued to be of small extent. Val- ley, Hist, de France, torn. in. p. 32. Many of the most considerable provinces in France did not at first acknowledge Hugh Capet as a lawful monarch. There are still extant several charters, granted during the first years of his reign, with this remarkable clause in the form of dating the charter ; " Deo regnante, rege expectante," regnante domino nostro Jesu Christo, Francis autem contra jus regnum usurpante Ugone rege. Bouquet Recueil, torn. x. p. 544. A monarch whose title was thus openly disputed, was not in a condition to assert the royal jurisdiction, or to limit that of the barons. All these circumstances rendered it easy for the barons to usurp the rights of royalty within their own territories. The Capitularia became no less obsolete than the ancient laws ; and customs were every where introduced, and became the sole rule by which all civil transactions were conducted, and all causes were tried. The wonderful ignorance, which became general in France, during the ninth and tenth centuries, contributed to the introduction of customary law. Few persons, except ecclesiastics, could read ; and as it was not in the power of such illiterate persons to have recourse to written laws, either as their guide in business, or their rule in administering justice, the customary law, the know- ledge of which was preserved by tradition, universally prevailed. During this period, the general assembly of the nation seems not to have been called, nor to have once exerted its legislative authority. Local customs regulated and decided every thing. A striking proof of this occurs in tracing the progress of the French jurisprudence. The last of the Capitularia collected by M. Baluze, was issuer! in the year 921, by Charles the Simple. An hundred and thirty years elapsed from that period to the publication of the first ordon- nance of the kings of the third race, contained in the great collection of M. Lauriere, and the first ordonnance, which appears to be an act of legislation, extending to the whole kingdom, is that of Philip Augustus, A. D. 1190. Ordon. torn. i. p. 1. 18. During that long period of two hundred and sixty-nine years, all transactions were directed by local customs, and no addition was made to the statutory law of France. The ordonnances, previous to the reign of Philip Augustus, contain regulations, the authority of which did not extend beyond the king's domains. Various instances occur of the caution with which the kings of France ven- tured at first to exercise legislative authority. M. l'Ab. dc Mably produces an ordonnance of Philip Augustus, A. D. 1206, concerning the Jews, who, in that age, were in some measure the property of the lord in whose territories they resided. But it is rather a treaty of the king with the countess of Champagne, and the compte de Dampierre, than an act of royal power ; and the regulations in it seem to be established not so much by his authority, as by their consent. Observat. sur PHist. de France, ii. p. 355. In the same manner an ordonnance of Louis VIII., concerning the Jews, A. D. 1223, is a contract between the king and his nobles, with respect to their manner of treating that unhappy race of men. Ordon. torn. i. p. 47. The Establissemens of St. Louis, though well adnnt .(1 to serve as general laws to the whole kingdom, were not published as sn it only as a complete code of customary law, to be of authority within the king's domains. The wisdom, the equity, and the order conspicuous in that code of St. Louis, procured it a favourable reception throughout the kingdom. The veneration due to the virtues and good intentions of its author, contributed not a little to reconcile the nation to that legislative authority which the king began to assume. Soon after the reiffn of St. Louis, the idea, of the king's nos- Vol. II.— 72 570 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. sessing supreme legislative power became common. " If," says Beaumanoir, " the king makes any establishment, especially for his own domain, the barons may nevertheless adhere to their ancient customs ; but if the establishment be general, it shall be current throughout the whole kingdom, and we ought to believe that such establishments are made with mature deliberation, and for the general good.'' Count de Beauvoisis, c. 48. p. 265. Though the kings of the third race did not call the general assembly of the nation, during the long period from Hugh Capet to Philip the Fair, yet they seem to have consulted the bishops and barons who happened to be present in their court, with respect to any new Jaw which they published. Examples of this occur, Ordon. torn. i. p. 3. & 5. This practice seems to have continued as late as the reign of St. Louis, when the legislative authority of the crown was well established. Ordon. torn. i. p. 58. A. D. 1246. This attention paid to the barons; facilitated the kings acquiring such full possession of the legislative power, as enabled them after- wards to exercise it without observing that formality. The assemblies distinguished by the name of the States General, were first called, A. D. 1302, and were held occasionally from that period to the year 1614, since which time they have not been summoned. These were very different from the ancient assemblies of the French nation, under the kings of the first and second race. There is no point with respect to which the French antiquaries are more generally agreed, than in maintaining that the States General had no suffrage in the passing of laws, and possessed no proper legislative jurisdiction. The whole tenor of the French history confirms this opinion. The form of pro- ceeding in the States General was this : — The king addressed himself, at open- ing the meeting, to the whole body assembled in one place, and laid before them the affairs on account of which he had summoned them. Then the depu- ties of each of the three orders, of nobles, of clergy, and of the third estate, met apart, and prepared their cahier or memorial, containing their answer to the propositions which had been made to them, together with the representations which they thought proper to lay before the king. These answers and repre- sentations were considered by the king in his council, and generally gave rise to an ordonnance. These ordonnances were not addressed to the three estates in common. Sometimes the king addressed an ordonnance to each of the estates in particular. Sometimes he. mentioned the assembly of the three estates. Sometimes he mentioned the assembly of that estate to which the ordonnance is addressed. Somcthnes no mention at all is made of the assembly of estates, which suggested the propriety of enacting the law. Preface, au torn. iii. des Ordon. p. xx. Thus the States General had only the privilege of advising and remonstrating ; the legislative authority resided in the king alone. Note [40]. Page 80. If the parliament of Paris be considered only as the supreme court of justice, every thing relative to its origin and jurisdiction is clear and obvious. It is the ancient court of the king's palace, new modelled, rendered stationary, and invested with an extensive and ascertained jurisdiction. The power of this court, while employed in this part of its functions, is not the object of present consideration. The pretensions of the parliament to control the exercise of the legislative authority, and its claim of a right to interpose with respect to public affairs and the political administration of the kingdom, lead to inquiries attended with great diificulty. As the officers and members of the parliament of Paris were anciently nominated by the king, were paid by him, and on several occasions were removed by him at pleasure (Chronic. Scandaleuse de Louis XI. chez les Mem. de Comines, torn. ii. p. 51. Edit, de M. Lenglet de Fresnoy), they cannot be considered as representatives of the people, nor could they claim any share in the legislative power as acting in their name. We must therer fore search for some other source of this high privilege. The parliament was originally composed of the most eminent persons in the kingdom. The peers of France, ecclesiastics of the highest order, and noblemen of illustrious birth, were members of it, to whom were added some clerks and counsellors, learned in the laws. Pasquier Recherches, p. 44, &c. Encyclopedic, torn. xii. Art. Parle- ment, p. '3. 5. A court thus constituted, was properly a committee of the States General of the kingdom, and was composed of those barons andjidela. whom PROOF.S AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 571 the kings of Franco were accustomed to consult with regard to every act of jurisdiction or legislative authority. It was natural, therefore, during the inter- vals between the meetings of the States General, or during those periods when that assembly was not called, to consult the parliament, to lay matters of public concern before it, and to obtain its approbation and concurrence, before any ordonnance was published, to which the people were required to conform. 2. Under the second race of kings, every new law was reduced into proper form by the chancellor of the kingdom, was proposed by him to the people, and when enacted, was committed to him to be kept among the public records, that ho might give authentic copies of it to all who should demand them. Hmcm. de Ord. Palat. c. 16. Capitul. Car. Calv. tit. xiv. } 11. tit. xxxiii. The chancellor presided in the parliament of Paris, at its first institution. Encyclopedic, torn, iii. art. Chancelier, p. 88. It was therefore natural for the king to continue to employ him in his ancient functions of framing, taking into his custody, and publishing the ordonnances which were issued. To an ancient copy of the Capitularia of, Charlemagne, the following words are subjoined: "Anno ter- tio clementissimi domini nostri Caroli Augusti, sub ipso anno, haic facta Capi- tula sunt, et consignata Stephano comiti, ut hrec manifesta faceret Pansiis mallo publico, et ilia legere faceret coram Scabineis, quod ita et fecit, et omnes in uno consenserunt, quod ipsi voluissent observare usque in posterum, etiam omnes Scabine'i, Episcopi, Abbates, Comites, manu propria subter signaverunt.'1 Bouquet Recueil, torn. v. p. 663. Mallus signifies not only the public assembly of the nation, but the court of justice held by the Comes, or Missus dominicus. Scabini were the judges, or the assessors of the judges in that court. Here then seems to be a very early instance, not only of laws being published in a court of justice, but of their being verified or confirmed by the subscription of the judges. If this was the common practice, it naturally introduced the verifying of edicts in the parliament of Paris. But this conjecture I propose with that diffidence, which I have felt in all my reasonings concerning the laws and institutions of foreign nations. 3. This supreme court of justice in France was dignified with the appella- tion of parliament, the name by which the general assembly of the nation w as dis- tinguished towards the close of the second race of kings; and men, both in reason- ing and in conduct, are wonderfully influenced by the familiarity of names. The preserving the ancient names of the magistrates established while the republican government subsisted in Rome, enabled Augustus and his successors to assume new powers with less observation and greater ease: The bestowing the same name in France upon two courts, which were extremely different, con- tributed not a little to confound their jurisdiction and functions. All these circumstances concurred in leading the kings* of France to avail themselves . of the parliament of Paris, as the instrument of reconciling the people to the exercise of legislative authority by the crown. The French, accustomed to see all new laws examined and authorized, before they were pub- lished, did not sufficiently distinguish between the effect of performing this in the national assembly, or in a court appointed by the king. But as that court was composed of respectable members, and who were well skilled in the laws of their country, when any new edict received its sanction, that was sufficient to dispose the people to submit to it. When the practice of verifying and registering the royal edicts in the parlia- ment of Paris became common, the parliament contended that this was neces- sary in order to give them legal authority. It was established as a fundamental maxim in French jurisprudence, that no law could be published in any other manner ; that without this formality, no edict or ordonnance could have any effect ; that the people were not bound to obey it, and ouorht not to consider it as an edict or ordonnance, until it was verified in the supreme court, after free deliberation. Roche-flavin des Parlemens de France, 4to. Gen. 1621. p. 921. The parliament, at different times, hath, with great fortitude and integrity, opposed the will of their sovereigns ; and, notwithstanding repeated and peremptory requisitions and commands of the crown, hath refused to verify and publish such edicts as it conceived to be oppressive to the people, or subversive of the constitution of the kingdom. Roche-flavin reckons, that between the year 1562 and the year 1589, the parliament refused to verify more than a hundred edicts of the kings. Ibid. 925. Many instances of the spirit and eon- 572 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATION.-. stancy with which the parliaments of France opposed pernicious laws, and asserted their own privileges, are enumerated by Limnams in his Notitiae Regni Francioe, lib. i. c. 9. p. 224. But the power of the parliament to maintain and defend this privilege, bore no proportion to its importance, or to the courage with which the members asserted it. When any monarch was determined that an edict should be car- ried into execution, and found the parliament inflexibly resolved not to verify or publish it, he could easily supply this defect by the plenitude of his regal power. He repaired to the parliament in person, he took possession of his seat of jus- tice, and commanded the edict tp be read, verified, registered, and published in his presence. Then, according to another maxim of French law, the king him- self being present, neither the parliament, nor. any magistrate whatever, can exercise any authority, or perform any function. Adveniente Principe, cessat magistratus. Roche-flavin, ibid. p. 928, 929. Encyclopedic, torn. ix. Art. Lit. de Justice, p. 581. Roche-flavin mentions several instances of kings who actually exerted this prerogative, so fatal to the residue of the rights and liber- ties transmitted to the French by their ancestors. Pasquier produces some instances of the same kind. Rech. p. 61. Limnsetis enumerates many other instances, but the length to which this note has swelled, prevents me from inserting them at length, though they tend greatly to illustrate this important article in the French history, p. 245. Thus by an exertion of prerogative, which, though violent, seems to be constitutional, ind is justified by innumera- ble precedents, all the efforts of the parliament to limit and control the king's legislative authority are rendered ineffectual. 1 have not attempted to explain the constitution or jurisdiction of any parlia- ment in France, but that of Paris. All of them are formed upon the model of that most ancient and respectable tribunal, and all my observations concern- ing it, will apply with full force to tnem. Note [41]. Page 81. The humiliating posture in which a great emperor implored absolution is an event so singular, that the words in which Gregory himself describes it, merit a place here, and convey a strikingj>icture of the arrogance of that pontiff*. " Per triduum, ante portam castri, deposito omni regio cultu, miserabiliter, utpote dis- calceatus, et laneis indutus, persistens, non prius cum multo fletu apostolicse, miserationis auxihum, et consolationem implorari destitit, quam omnes qui ibi aderant, et ad quos rumor ille pervenit, ad tantam pietatem. et compassionis miserecordiam movit, ut proeomultis precibuset lacrymis intercedentes, omnes quidem insolitam nostrae mentis duritiem mirarentur ; nonnulli vero in nobis non apostolicae sedis gravitatem, sed quasi tyrannical feritatis crudelitatem esse clamarunt." Epist. Gregor. ap. Memoire della Contessa Matilda da Fran. Mar. Florentini, Lucca, 1756, vol. i. p. 174. Note [42]. Page 85. As I have endeavoured in the history to trace the various steps in the pro- gress of the constitution of the empire, and to explain the peculiarities in its policy very fully, it is not necessary to add much by way of illustration. What appears to be of any importance, 1 shall range under distinct heads. 1. With respect to the power, jurisdiction, and revenue of the emperors. A very just idea of these may be formed by attending to the view which Pfeftel gives of the rights of the emperors at two different periods. The first at the close of the Saxon race, A. D. 1024. These, according to his enumeration, were the right of conferring all the ecclesiastical benefices in Germany ; of re- ceiving the revenues of them during a vacancy; of mortmain, or of succeeding to the effects of ecclesiastics who died intestate. The right of confirming or of annulling the elections of the popes. The right of assembling councils, and of appointing them to decide concerning the affairs of the church. The right of conferring the title of king upon their vassals. The right of granting vacant fiefs. The right of receiving the revenues of the empire, whether arising from the imperial domains, from imposts and tolls, from gold or silver mines, from the taxes paid by the Jews, or from forfeitures. The right of governing Italy as its proper sovereigns. The right of erecting free cities and of establishing itUOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 673 lairs 111 them. The right of assembling the diets of the empire, and of fixing the time of their duration. The right of coining money, and of conferring that privilege on the states of the empire. The right of administering both high and low justice within the territories of the different states. Abrege, p. 160. The other period is at the extinction of the emperors of the families of Luxem- burg and Bavaria, A. D. 1437. According to the same author, the imperial prerogatives at that time were the right of conferring all dignities and titles, except the privilege of being a stati- of the empire. The right of Preces pri- maries, or of appointing once during their reign a dignitary in each chapter or religious house. The right of granting dispensations uith respect to the age of majority The right of erecting cities, and of conferring the privilege of coining money. The right of calling the meetings of the diet, and of presiding in them. Abrege, &c. p. 507. It were easy to show that Mr. Pfeffel is well founded in all these assertions, and to confirm them by the testimony of the most respectable authors. In the one period, the emperors appear as mighty sovereigns with extensive prerogatives ; in the other, as the heads of a con- federacy with very limited powers. The revenues of the emperors decreased still more than their authority. The early emperors, and particularly those of the Saxon line, besides their great patrimonial or hereditary territories, possessed an extensive domain both in Italy and Germany, which belonged to them as emperors. Italy belonged to the emperors as their proper kingdom, and the revenues which they drew from it were very considerable. The first alienations of the imperial revenue were made in that country. The Italian cities having acquired wealth, and aspiring at independence, purchased their liberty from different emperors, as I have observed, Note 15. The sums which they paid, and the emperors with whom they concluded these bargains, are mentioned by Casp. Klockius de iErario Norimb. 1671. p. 85, &c. Charles IV. and his son Wenceslaus, dissi- pated all that remained of the Italian branch of the domain. The German domain lay chiefly upon the banks of the Rhine, and was under the government of the counts palatine. It is not easy to mark out the boundaries, or to estimate the value of this ancient domain, which has been so long incorporated with the territories of different princes. Some hints « ith respect to it may be found in the Glossary of Speidelius, which he has entitled, Speculum Juridico-Philo- logico-Politico-Historicum Observation um, &c. Norimb. 1673, vol. i. 679. 1045, a more full account of it is given by Klockius de iErario, p. 84. Besides this,, the emperors possessed considerable districts of land lying intermixed writh the estates of the dukes and barons. They were accustomed to visit these fre- quently, and drew from their vassals in each what was sufficient to support their court during the time of their residence among them. Annalistae, ap. Struv. torn. i. 611. A great part of these detached possessions were seized by the nobles during the long interregnum, or during the wars occasioned by the contests between the emperors and the court of Rome. At the same time that such encroachments were made on the fixed or territorial property of the em- perors, they were robbed almost entirely of their casual revenues. The princes and barons appropriating to themselves taxes and duties of every kind, which had usually b.een paid to them. Pfeffel Abrege, p. 374. The profuse and in- considerate ambition of Charles IV. squandered whatever remained of the im- perial revenues after so many defalcations. He, in the year 1376, in order to prevail with the electors to choose his son Wenceslaus king of the Romans, promised each of them a hundred thousand crowns. But being unable to pay so large a sum, and eager to secure the election to his son, he alienated to the three ecclesiastical electors, and to the count palatine, such countries as still belonged to the Imperial domain on the banks of the Rhine, and likewise made over to them all the taxes and tolls then levied by tlie emperors in that district. Trithemius, and the author of the Chronicle of Magdeburgh, enumerate the territories and taxes which were thus alienated, and represent this as the last and fatal blow to the imperial authority. Struv. Corp. vol. i. p. 437. From that period the shreds of the ancient revenues possessed by the emperors have been so inconsiderable, that, in the opinion of Speidelius, all that they yield would be so far from defraying the expense of supporting their household, that they would not pay the charge of maintaining the posts established in the em,- 574 PROOFS AiND ILLUSTRATIONS. pire. Spoidelii Speculum, &c. vol. i. p. 600. These funds, inconsiderable 1x8 they were, continued to decrease. Granyelle, the minister of Charles V. as- serted in the year 1546, in presence of several of the German princes, that his master drew no money at all from the empire. Sleid. History of the Reforma- tion, Lond. 1689. p.#372. The same is the case at present. Traite de droite publique de l'Empire, par M. le Coq. de Villeray, p. 55. From the reign of Charles IV., whom Maximilian called the pest of the empire, the emperors have depended entirely on their hereditary dominions, as the chief, and almost the only source of their power, and even of their subsistence. 2. The ancient mode of electing the emperors, and the various changes which it underwent, require some illustration. The imperial crown was originally attained by election, as well as those of most monarchies in Europe. An opinion long prevailed among the antiquaries and public lawyers of Germany, that the right of choosing the emperors was vested in the archbishops of Mentz, Cologne, and Treves, the king of Bohemia, the duke of Saxony, the marquis of Brandenburgh, and the count palatine of the Rhine, by" an edict of Otho III. confirmed by Gregory V., about the year 996. But the whole tenor of history contradicts this opinion. It appears, that from the earliest period in the history of Germany, the person who was to reign over all, was elected by the suffrage of all. Thus Conrad I. was elected by all the people of the Franks, say some annalists, by all the princes and -chief men, say others : by all the nation, say others. See their words, Struv. Corp. 211. Conringius de German, Imper. Repub. Acroamata Sex. Ebroduni 1654, p. 103. In the year 1024, posterior to the supposed regulations of Othq III., Conrad II. was elected by all the chief men, and his election was approved and confirmed by the people, Struv. Corp. 284. At the election of Lotharius II. A. D. 1125, sixty thousand persons of all ranks were present. He was named by the chief men, and their nomination was approved by the people. Struv. ibid. p. 357. The first author who men- tions the seven electors is Martinus Polonus, who flourished in the reign of Frederick II. which ended, A. D. 1250. We find that in the ancient elections to which I have referred, the princes of the greatest power and authority were allowed by their- countrymen to name the person whom they wished to appoint emperor, and the people approved or disapproved of their nomination. This privilege of voting first is called by the German lawyers the right of Prataxation. Pfeffel Abreg6, p. 316. This was the first origin of the exclusive right which the electors acquired. The electors possessed the most extensive territories of any princes in the empire -. all the great offices of the state were in their hands by hereditary right; as soon as they obtained or engrossed so much influence in the election as to be allowed the right of prsetaxation, it was vain to oppose their will, and it even became unnecessary for the inferior ecclesiastics and barons to attend, when they had no other function but that of confirming the deed of these more powerful princes by their assent. During times of turbulence, the subordinate members of the Germanic body could not resort to the place of election without a retinue of armed vassals, the expense of which they were obliged to defray out of their own revenues ; and finding their attendance to be unnecessary, they were unwilling to waste them to no purpose. The rights of the seven electors were supported by all the descendents and allies of their powerful families, who shared in the splendour and influence which they enjoyed by this distin- guishing privilege. Pfeffel Abrege, p. 376. The seven electors were considered as the representatives of all the orders which composed the highest class of German nobility. There were three archbishops, chancellors' of the three great districts into which the empire was anciently divided ; one king, one duke, one marquis, and one count. All these circumstances contributed to render the in- troduction of this considerable innovation into the constitution of the Germanic body extremely easy. Every thing of importance, relating to this branch of the political state of the empire, is well illustrated by Onuphrius Panvinius, an Augustan monk of Verona, who lived in the reign of Charles V. His treatise, if we make some allowance for that partiality which he expresses in favour of the powers which the popes claimed in the empire, has the merit of being one of the first works in which a controverted point in history is examined with critical precision, and with a proper attention to that evidence which is derived PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. ^75 from records, or the testimony of contemporary historians. It is inserted by Goldastu^ in his Politica Imperialia, p. 2. As the electors have engrossed the sole right of choosing the emperors, they have assumed likewise that of deposing them. This high power the electors have not only presumed to claim, but have ventured in more than one instance, to exercise. In the year 1298, a part of the electors deposed Adolphus of Nas- sau, and substituted Albert of Austria in his place. The reasons on which they found their sentence, showed that this deed flowed from factious, not from pub- lic spirited motives. Siruv. Corp. vol. i. 540. In the first year of the fifteenth century, the electors deposed Wenceslaus, and placed the imperial crown on the head of Rupert, elector palatine. The act ol deposition is still extant. Gol- dasti Constit. vol. i. 379. It is pronounced in the name and by the authority of the electors, and confirmed by several prelates and barons of the empire, who were present. These exertions of the electoral power, demonstrate that the imperial authority was sunk very low. The other privileges of the electors, and the rights of the electoral college, are explained by the writers on the public law in Germany. 3. With respect to the diets or general assemblies of the empire, it would be necessary, if my object were to write a particular history of Germany, to enter into a minute detail, concerning the forms of assembling it, the persons who have right to be present, their division into several colleges or benches, the objects of their deliberation, the mode in which they carry on their debates or give their suffrages, and the authority of their decrees or recesses. But as my only object is to give the outlines of the constitution of the German empire, it ■will be sufficient to observe, that, originally, the diets of the empire were exactly the same with the assemblies of March and of May, held by the kings of France. They met, at least, once a year. Every freeman had a right to be present. They were assemblies, in which a monarch deliberated with his subjects, con- cerning their common interest. Arumaeus de Comitiis Rom. German. Imperii, 4to. Jenae, 1660, cap. 7. No. 20, &c. But when the princes, dignified eccle- siastics, and barons, acquired territorial and independent jurisdiction, the diet became an assembly of the separate states, which formed the confederacy of which the emperor was head. While the constitution of the empire remained in its primitive form, attendance on the diets was a duty, like the other services due from feudal subjects to their sovereign, which the members were bound to perform in person ; and if any member who had a right to be present in the diet, neglected to attend in person, he not only lost his vote, but was liable to a heavy penalty. Arumaeus de Comit. c. 5. No. 40. Whereas, from the time that the members of the diet became independent states, the right of suffrage was annexed to the territory or dignity, not to the person. The members, if they could not, or would not attend in person, might send their deputies, as princes and ambassadors, and they were entitled to exercise all the rights belonging to their constituents. Ibid. No. 42. 46. 49. By degrees, and. upon the same principle of considering the diet as an assembly of independent states, in which each confederate had the right of suffrage, if any member possessed more than one of those states or characters which entitle to a seat in the diet, he was allowed a proportional number of suffrages. Pfeffel Abrege, 662. From the same cause the imperial cities, as soon as they became free, and acquired supreme and independent jurisdiction within their own territories, were received as members of the diet. The powers of the diet extend to every thing relative to the common concern of the Germanic body, or that can interest, or affect it as a confederacy. The diet take no cognizance of the interior administration in the different states, unless that happens to disturb the public peace, or to threaten the general safety, 4. With respect to the imperial chamber, the jurisdiction of which has been the great source of order and tranquillity in Germany, it is necessary to observe, that this court was instituted in order to put an end to the calamities occasioned by private wars in Germany. I have already traced the rise and progross of this practice, and pointed out its pernicious effects as fully as their extensive influence during the middle ages required. In Germany, private wars seem to have been more frequent and productive of worse consequences than in the other countries of Europe. There are obvious reasons for this. The nobility 576 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. of Germany were extremely numerous, and the causes of their dissension mul- tiplied in proportion. The territorial jurisdiction which the German nobles acquired, was more complete than that possessed by their order in other nations. They became, in reality, independent powers, and they claimed all the privi- leges of that character. The long interregnum from A. D. 1256, to A. D. 1273, accustomed them to an uncontrolled license, and led them to forget that subor- dination which is necessary in order to maintain public tranquillity. At the time when the other monarchs of Europe began to acquire such an increase of power and revenues, as added new vigour to their government, the authority and revenues of the emperors continued gradually to decline. The diets of the empire, which alone had authority to judge between such mighty barons, and power to enforce its decisions, met very seldom. Conring. Acroamata, p. 234. The diets, when they did assemble, were often composed of several thousand members, Chronic. Constat, ap. Struv. Corp. i. p. 546, and were tumultuary assemblies, ill qualified to decide concerning any question of right. The session of the diets continued only two or three days ; Pfeffel Abrege, p. 244 : so that they had no time to hear or discuss any cause that was in the smallest degree intricate. Thus Germany was left, in some measure, without any court of judicature, capable of deciding the contests between its more powerful mem- bers, or of repressing the evils occasioned by their private wars. All the expedients which were employed in other countries of Europe, in order to restrain this practice, and which 1 have described, Note 21, were tried in Germany with little effect.' The confederacies of the nobles and of the cities, and the division of Germany into various circles, which I mentioned in that note, were found likewise insufficient. As a last remedy, the Germans had recourse to arbiters, whom they called Austregat. The barons and states in different parts of Germany joined in conventions, by which they bound them- selves to refer all controversies that might arise between them to the determina- tion of Austregce, and to submit to their sentences as final. These arbiters are named sometimes in the treaty of convention, an instance of which occurs in Ludewig Reliquse Manuscr. omnis aevi, vol. ii. 212 ; sometimes they were chosen by mutual consent upon occasion of any contest that arose ; sometimes they were appointed by neutral persons ; and sometimes the choice was left to be decided by lot. Datt. de Paj;e publica Imperii, lib. i. cap. 27, No. 60, &c. Speidelius Speculum, &c. voc. Auslrag. p. 95. Upon the introduction of this practice, the public tribunals of justice became in a great measure useless, and were almost entirely deserted. In order to re-establish the authority of government, Maximilian I. instituted the imperial chamber, at the period which I have mentioned. This tribunal consisted originally of a president, who was always a nobleman of the first order, and of sixteen judges. The president was appointed by the emperor, and the iudges, partly by him, and partly by the states, according to forms which it is unnecessary to describe. A sum was imposed, with their own consent, on the states of the empire, for paying the salaries of the judges and officers in this court. The imperial chamber was established at first at Frankfort on the Maine. During the reign of Charles V., it was removed to Spires, and conti- nued in that city above a century and a half. It is now fixed at Wetzlar. This court takes cognizance of all questions concerning civil right between the states of the empire, and passes judgment in the last resort, and without appeal. To it belongs likewise the privilege of judging in criminal causes, which may be ronsidered as connected with the preservation of the public peace. Pfeffel Abreg6, 560. All causes relating to points of feudal right or jurisdiction, together with such as respect the territories which hold of the empire in Italy, belong pro- perly to the jurisdiction of the Aulic council. This tribunal was formed upon the model of the ancient court of the palace, instituted by the emperors of Ger- many. It depended not upon the states of the empire, but upon the emperor, he having the right of appointing at pleasure all the judges of whom it is com- posed. Maximilian, in order to procure some compensation for the diminution of his authority, by the powers vested in the imperial chamber, prevailed on the diet, A. D. 1512, to give its consent to the establishment of the Aulic council. Since that time it has been a great object of policy in the court of Vienna, to PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 577 extend the jurisdiction, and support the .authority of the Aulic council, and to circumscribe and weaken those of the imperial chamber. The tedious forms and dilatory proceedings of the imperial chamber, have furnished the emperors with pretexts for doing so. "• Lites Spirm," according to the witticism of a German lawyer, " spirant, sed nunquam expirant." Such delays are unavoida- ble in a court composed of members named by many different states, jealous of each other. Whereas the judges of the Aulic council, depending upon one master, and being responsible to him alone, are more vigorus and decisive. Puffendorf, de Statu lmper. Germ. cap. v. i 20. Pfeffel Abrege, p. 581. Note [43]. Page 87. The description which I have given of the Turkish government is conforma- ble to the accounts of the most intelligent travellers who have visited that, empire. The count de Marsigli, in his treatise concerning the military state of the Turkish empire, ch. vi. and the author of Observations on the religion, laws, government, and manners of the Turks, published at London, 1768, vol. i. p. 81, differ from other writers who have described the political constitution of that powerful monarchy. As they had opportunity, during their long residence in Turkey, to observe the order and justice conspicuous in several departments of administration, they seem unwilling to admit that it should be denominated a despotism. But when the form of government in any country is represented to be despotic, this does not suppose that the power of the monarch is continu- ally exerted in acts of violence, injustice, and cruelty. Under political consti- tutions of every species, unless when some frantic tyrant happens to hold the sceptre, the ordinary administration of government must be conformable to the principles of justice, and if not active in promoting the welfare of the people, cannot certainly have their destruction for its object. A state, in which the sovereign possesses the absolute command of a vast military force, together with the disposal of an extensive revenue, in which the people have no privi- leges, and no part either immediate or remote in legislation ; in which there is no body of hereditary nobility, jealous of their own rights and distinctions, to stand as an intermediate order between the prince and the people, cannot be distinguished by any name but that of a despotism. The restraints, however, which I have mentioned, arising from the Capiculy, and from religion, are 2>owerful. But they are not such as change the nature or denomination of the government. When a despotic prince employs an armed force to support his authority, he commits the supreme power to their hands. The Praetorian bands in Rome dethroned, murdered, and exalted their princes, in the same wanton manner with the soldiery of the Porte at Constantinople. But notwithstand- ing this, the Roman emperors have been considered by all political writers ae possessing despotic power. The author of Observations on the religion, laws, government, and manner? of the Turks, in a preface to the seeond edition of his work, hath made some remarks on what is contained in this Note, and in that part of the text to which' it refers. It is with diffidence I set my opinion in opposition to that of a person, who has observed'the government of the Turks with attention, and has described it with abilities. But after a careful review of the subject, to me the Turkish government still appears of such a species as can be ranged in no class but that to which political writers have given the name of despotism. There is not in Turkey any constitutional restraint upon the will of the sovereign, or any bar- rier to circumscribe the exercise of his power but the two which I have men- tioned ; one afforded by religion, the principle upon which the authority of the sultan is founded ; the other by the army, the instrument which he must em- ploy to maintain his power. The author represents the Ulema, or body of the law, as an intermediate order between the monarch and the people. Pref. p. 30. But whatever restraint the authority of the Ulema may impose upon the sovereign, is derived from religion. The Moulahs, out of whom the mufti and other chief officers of the law must be chosen, are ecclesiastics. It is ae inter- preters of the Koran or Divine Will that they are objects of veneration. The check, then, which they give to the exercise of arbitrary power is not different from one of those of which I took notice. Indeed, this restraint cannot be very considerable. The mufti, who is flic heaH of the order, as well as oven V«t,. TI.—73 i7» PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. inferior officer of law, is named by the sultan, and is removable at his pleasure. The strange means employed by the Ukma in 1746, to obtain the dismission of a minister whom they hated, is a manifest proof that they possess but little constitutional authority which can serve as a restraint upon the will of the sovereign. Observat. p. 92. of 2d. edit. If the author's idea be just, it is astonishing that the body of the law should have no method of remonstrating against the errors of administration, but by setting fire to the capital. The author seems to consider the Cnpicidu or soldiery of the Porte, neither as formidable instruments of the sultan's po*vcr, nor as any restraint upon the exercise of it. His reasons for this opinion are, that the number of the Capiculy is small in proportion to the other troops which compose the Turkish armies, and that in time of peace they are undisciplined. Pref. 2d. edit. p. 23, &c. But the troops stationed in a capital, though their number be not great, are always masters of the sovereign's person and power. The Praetorian bands bore no proportion to the legionary troops in the frontier provinces. The soldiery of the Porte are more numerous, and must possess power of the same kind, and be equally formidable, sometimes to the sovereign, and oftener to the people. How- ever much the discipline of the Janizaries may be neglected at present,it certainly was not so in that age to which alone my description of the Turkish govern- ment applies. The author observes, pref. p. 29, that the Janizaries never deposed any sultan of themselves, but that some form of law true or false, has been observed, and that either the mufti, or some other minister of religion, has announced to the unhappy prince the law which renders him unworthy oi' the throne. Observ. p. 102. This will always happen. In every revolution, though brought about by military power, the deeds of the soldiery must be confirmed and carried into execution with the civil and religious formalities peculiar to the constitution. This addition to the Note may serve as a further illustration of my own sentiments, but is not made with an intention of entering into any controversy with the author of Observations, &c. to whom I am indebted for the obliging- terms in which he has expressed his remarks upon what I had advanced. Happy were it for such as venture to communicate their opinions to the world, if every animadversion upon them were conveyed with the same candid and liberal spirit. In one particular, however, he seems to have misapprehended what I meant, pref. p. 17. I certainly did not mention his or count Marsigli's long residence in Turkey, as a circumstance which should detract from the weight of their authority. I took notice of it, in justice to my readers, that they might receive my opinion with distrust, as it differed from that of persons whose means of information were so far superior to mine. Note [44]. Page 87. The institution, the discipline, and privileges of the Janizaries are described )>y all the authors who give any account of the Turkish government. The manner in which enthusiasm was employed in order to inspire them with cour- age, is thus related by prince Cantemir: "When Amurath I. had formed them into a body, he sent them to Haji Bektash, a Tuikish saint, famous for his miracles and prophecies, desiring him to bestow on them a banner, to pray to God for their success, and to give them a name. The saint, when they ap- peared in his presence, put the sleeve of his gown upon one of their heads, and said, "Let them be called Yengicheri. Let their countenance be ever bright, their hands victorious, their swords keen ; let their spear always hang over the heads of their enemies, and wherever they go, may they return with . Boroughs, representatives of, how introduced into national councils, 22. Bntains, ancient, their distress and dejection when deserted by the Romans, and harassed by the Picts and Caledonians, 500. Brotherhood of God, an account of that associa- tion for extinguishing private wars, 534. Bruges, how it became the chief mart fur Italian commodities during the middle ages, 556. Burgundy, Mary, heiress of, the importance with Which her choice in a husband was considered by all Europe, 51. Treacherous views of Louis XI. of France towards her, 52. Is married to the archduke Maximilian, ib. The influence of this match on the state of Europe, ib. Casar, his account of the ancient Gentians, com- pared with that of Tacitus, 504. CalatriiBu, military order of, in Spain, zealous to employ their prowess in defence of the honours of the' Virgin Mary, 563. The vow used by these knights, ib. Cumbray, treaty of, its object, 56, 57. The con- federacy dissolved, 57. Canon law, inquiry into, 33. Progress of eccle- siastical usurpations, 33, 34. Maxims of, more equitable than the civil courts of middle ages, 34. Castile, rise of the kingdom of, 68. Its union with Arragon, 69. Its king, Henry IV., deposed, 70. Constitution and government of that king- dom, 72. History of the ( 'ortes of, and its pri- vileges, ib. Kingdom originally elective, 561. Catalonia, spirited behaviour of the per pie there in defence of their rights, against their king John II. of Arragon, 70. Censuales. a species of voluntary slaves, the ob- ligations they entered into, described, 530. Gentenarii, or inferior judges in the middle ages, extraordinary oath required from them, 554. Champs de Mars and de Mai, account of those assemblies of the ancient Gauls, 565. Charlemagne, his law to prevent private wars for redress of personal injuries, 26. 533. State of Germany under his descendants, 80. Charles IV., emperor, dissipates the imperial do- mains, 573. V., emperor, an emulator of the heroic con- duct of his rival, Francis I., 37. His future gran- deur founded on the marriage of the archduke Maximilian with the heiress of Burgundy, 52. VII. of France, the first who introduced standing armies in Europe, 47. His successful extension of the regal prerogative, ib. VIII. of France, his character, 52. How induced to invade Italy, ib. His resources and preparations for this enterprise, 53. His rapid success, ih A combination of the Italian states formed against him, 54. Is forced to return back to France, ib The distressed state of his revenues by this expedition, 56. Charlevoix, his account of the North American Indians, made use of in a comparison between them and the ancient Germans, 505, 506. Charters of immunity or franchise, an inquiry into the nature of those granted by the barons of France to the towns under their jurisdic- tions, 522. Of communities, granted by the kings of France, how they tended to establish regular government. 21. 523. Citirnlnj, origin of, 36. Its beneficial effects on human manners. 37. The enthusiasm of, rl'S- tinjuished from ifcs salutarv cowsequenc^. ft 5S2 INDEX. Christianity, corrupted when first brought into Europe, iff'. Its influence in freeing mankind from the bondage of the feudal policy, 529. Circles of Germany, the occasion of their being formed, 83. Cities, ancient states of, under the feudal policy, 19. The freedom of, where first established, 20. Charters of community, why granted In France by Louis Ie Gros, ib. Obtain the like all over Europe, 21 . Acquire political consideration, ib. Clergy, the progress of their usurpations, 33. Their plan of jurisprudence more perfect than that of the civil courts in the middle ages, :14. The great ignorance of, in the early feudal times of Europe, 515. Cleriza, slave to Willa, widow of duke Hugo, extract from the charter of manumission granted to her, 529. Clermont, council of, resolves on the holy war, 16. See Peter the Hermit and Crusades. Clotaire I., instance of the small authority lie had over his army, 505. Clotharius II., his account of the popular assem- blies among the ancient Gauls, 565. Clovis, the founder of the French monarchy, un- able to retain a sacred vase taken by his army from being distributed by lot among the rest of the plunder, 507. Colleges, first establishment of, in Europe, 551. Combat, judicial, prohibition of, an improvement in the administration of justice, 27. Founda- tion and universality of this mode of trial, 29. Pernicious effects of, 30. Various expedients for abolishing this practice, ib. Ancient Swe- dish law of, for words of reproach, 538. Posi- tive evidence or points of proof rendered inef- fectual by it, 539. This mode of trial author- ized by tile ecclesiastics, 540. Last instances of, in the histories of France and England, 5'1. Commerce, spirit of crusading how far favourable to, at that early period, 19. First establishment of free corporations, 20 Charters of commu- nity, why granted by Louis Ie Gros, ib. Like practice obtains all over Europe, 21. Salutary effects of these institutions, ib. LovT state of, during the middle ages, 40. Causes contribu- ting to its revival, ib Promoted by the Han- seatic league, 41. Is cultivated in the Nether- lands, ib. Is introduced into England by Ed- ward III , ib. The beneficial consequences resulting from the revival of, ib. The early cultivation of, in Italy, 554. Common law, the first compilation of, made in England by lord chief justice Glanville, 548. Communities. See Charters, Cities, Commerce, and Corporations. Comncna, Anne, her character of the Crusaders, 519. Compass, mariner's, when invented, and its in- fluence on the extension of commerce, 40. Composition for personal injuries, the motives for establishing, 533. The custom of, deduced from the practice of the ancient Germans, 541 . Compurgators, introduced as evidence in the jurisprudence of the middle ages, 27. Condottieri, in the Italian policy, what, 03. Conrad, count of Franconia, how he obtained election to the empire, 80. Conradin, the last rightful heir to the crown of Naples of the house of Suabia, his unhappy fate, 65. Constance, treaty of, between the emperor Frede- ric Barbarossa and the free cities of Italy, 522. Constantinople, its flourishing state at the time of the crusades, 17. When first taken by the Turks, 86. The crusaders, how looked upon there, 519. The account given of this city by the Latin writers, 519, 520. Constitutiims, popular, how formed, 22. Cordova, Gonsalvo de, secures the crown of Na- ples to Ferdinand of Arragon, 66. Corporations and bodies politic, establishments of, how far favourable to the improvement c,\ manners, 19. Privileges of, how first claimed, 20. Charters of community, why granted by Louis le Gros in France, ib. Institution of, obtains all over Europe, 21. Their effects, ib. Cortes of Arragon, its constitution and privileges. of Castile, a history of, and an account of its constitution and privileges, 72. The vigilance with which it guarded its privileges against the encroachments of the regal power, ib. Crusades, first motives for undertaking, 16. En- thusiastic zeal with which they were under- taken, ib. First promoted by Peter the Hermit, ib. Success of them, 17. Consequences re- sulting from them, ib. Their effects on manners, 18. On property, ib. How advantageous to tho enlargement or the regal power of European princes, ib. Commercial effects of, 19.40. Uni- versal frenzy for engaging in these expeditions accounted for, 517. Privileges granted to those who engaged in them, 517, 518. Stephen earl of Chartres and Blois, his account of them, 518. Expense of conducting them, how raised, 518, 519. Character given of the Crusaders by the Greek writers, 519. Debt, first hint of attaching moveables for the recovery of, derived from the canon law, 548. Debtors, how considered in the rude and simple stale of society, 523. Diets of Germany, some account of, 575. Doctors, in the different faculties, dispute prece- dence with knights, 551. Ecclesiastical jurisprudence, more perfect in it* plan than the civil courts of the middle ages, 34. Ecclesiastics, when and by what degrees they claimed exemption from civil jurisdiction, 546. Military talents cultivated and exercised by those of the middle ages, 550. Edward III. of England, his endeavours to intro- duce commerce into his kingdom, 41. Electors of Germany, rise of their privileges, 84. Eloy, St., his definition or description of a good Christian, 516. Emperors of Germany, inquiry into their power, jurisdiction, and revenue, 572. Ancient mode of electing them, 574. England, summary view of the contests between! and France, 44. Consequences of its losing its continental possessions, 45'. The power of the crown, how extended, 49. See HenryVU Win- so many marks of Saxon usages and language, in comparison with those of the Normans, to bo found in, 501. When corporations began to he established in, 527. Instances of the longconti- nuance of personal servitude there, 531 . Inquiry into the Saxon laws for putting an end to private wars, 535. Causes of the speedy decline of pri- vate wars there, proposed to the researches of antiquarians, 536. Last instances of judicial combat recorded in the history of, 541. Terri- torial jurisdiction of thebaions, how abolished, 546. Causes of the slow progress of commerce there, 556, 557 The first commercial treatv entered into by, 557. Evidence, imperfect nature of that admitted in law-proceedings during the middle ages, 27. Rendered ineffectual bythe judicial combal,540. Europe, alterations in, by the conquests of the Romans, 7. Improvements the nations of, re- ceived in exchange for their liberties, ib. Its disadvantages under this change of circum- stances, ib. Inquiry into the supposed popu- lousness of the ancient northern nations, 8. Savage desolations exercised by the Goths, Vandals, and Huns, 10. Universal change oc- casioned by their irruptions and conquest, II. First rudiments of the present policy of, to bo deduced from this period, ib. Origin of tin- feudal system. 12. See Feudal G),strm. Tht INDEX. abS general barbarism Introduced with this policy, 13, 14. Ai what time government and man- ners began to improve, 15, 10. Causes arid weals which contributed to this improvement, 16. Si e Crusades, Corporations, People Mi- series occasioned by pin ate wars in, 26. Me- thods laken lo suppress them, ib. Judicial com- bats prohibited, 27. Detects ol judicial pro- ceedings in die middle ages, ib. Influence of superstition in these pr iceedings, 28. Origin of the independent territorial jurisdictions of the barons, 3".'. Bad consequences of their judicial power, ib. Steps taken by princes lo abolish their courts, ib. Inquiry into the canon law, 33. Revival of the Roman law, 35. Effects of the spirit of chivalry, 36 How improved by the progress of science and cultivation of literature, 37. Christianity corrupted when first received in, 38. Scholastic theology the first object of learning in, ib. Low slate of commerce in, during the middle ages, 40. Com- merce revives in Italy, ib. Is promoted by the Hanseatic league, 41. Is cultivated in the Ne- therlands, ib. Effects of the progress of com- merce on the polishing of manners, ib Effects of the marriage of the heiress of Burgundy with the archduke Maximilian, on the state of, 52. By what means standing forces became general in, 55. Consequences of the league of Cambray to, 57. View of the political consti- tution of the several states of, at the commence- ment of the sixteenth century, 58. Italy, 59. The papacy, ib. Venice, 63. Florence, 64. Na- ples, ib. Milan, 66 Spain, 68. France, 76. Germany, 80. Turkey, 86. Instances of the small intercourse among nations in the middle ages, 552. Feodum, the etymology of that word, 512. Ferdinand, king of Arragon, unites the Spanish monarchy, by his marriage with Isabella of Castile, 68, 69. His schemes lo exalt the regal power, 74. Resumes former grants of land from his barons, ib. Unites to the crown the grand masterships of the three military orders, 75. Why he patronized the association called the Holy Brotherhood, against the barons, 76. Feudal system, origin of, deduced, 12. Primary object of this policy, ib. Its deficiencies for interior government, 13. Tenures of land, how established under, ib. Rise of intestine discords among the barons under, ib. Servile state of the people, ib. Weak authority of the king, ib. Its influence on the external operations of war, ib. General extinction of all arts and sciences effected by, 14. Its operation on religion, ib. Its influence on the character of the human mind, 15. At what time government and man- ners began to be improved, ib. Causes and events which contributed to this improvement, 16. SeeCrusades. Ancientstateof cities under, 19. Frame of national councils under this po- licy, 22. How altered by the progress of civil liberty, 23. Inquiry into the administration of justice under, 24. Private war, 26. Judicial combat, 29. Independent jurisdiction of the barons, ib. Distinction hetween freemen and vassals under, 507 — 512. How strangers were considered and treated under. 553. Fiefs, Under Hie feudal system, a history of, 509. When they became hereditary, 510. Fitzsle-phens, observations on his account of the state of London at the lime of Henry II., 527. Flanders. See Netherlands. Florence, view of the constitution of, at the com- mencement of the sixteenth century, 64. In- fluence acquired by Cosmo di Medici in, ib. France, by what means the towns in, first ob- tained charters of community. 20. Ordonnaaces of Louis X. and bis brother Philip in favour of civil liberty, 23. Methods employed to suppress private wars. 2fi. St. Loots attempts to dh countenance judicial combat, 30. View of the contests between, and England, 44. Conse queiices ol its recovering ils provinces from England, 45. Monarchy of, how strengthened by this event, 46. Rise of standing forces in, ib. Regal prerogative strengthened by this measure, 47. Extension of the regal prerogative vigorously pursued by Louis XI., 48. See Louis XI. Efiects of tne invasion of Italy by Charles VIII. >re Charles VIU. National infantry established in, 55, 56. League of Cambray formed against tne Venetians, 57. Battle of Ghiarraddada, ib. Inquiry into its ancient go- vernment and laws, 76. Power of the general assemblies under the first lace of kings, ib. Under the second and third, 77. Regal power confined to the king's own domains, ib. When the general assembly or states genet al lost their legislative authority, ib. When the kings began to assert their legislative power, 78 When the government or', became purely monarchical, ib. Regal power nevertheless restrained by the privileges of the nqbility, ib. Inquiry into the jurisdiction ol its parliaments, particularly that Of Paris, 79. How Hie allodial property ol land there was altered into feudal, 510, 511. Pro- gress of liberty in that kingdom traced, 527. Attempts to establish liberty there unsuccessful, 528. Last instance of judicial combat recorded in the history of, 541. Present government of, compared with that of ancient Gaul, 564. The states general, when first assembled, 570. Francis I. of France, his character influenced by the spirit of chivalry, 37. Is emulated by the emperor Charles V., ib. Frederic Barbarossa, emperor, the free cities of Italy unite againsl him, 522. Treaty of Con- stance with them, ib. Was the first who granted privileges to the cities in Germany, 526. Fredum, in the ancient German usages, explained, 541. Freemen, how distinguished from vassals, under the feudal policy, 507 — 512. Why often in- duced lo surrender their freedom, and become slaves, 514. Fulcherius Carnotensis, his character of the city of Constantinople, 520. Gaul, how allodial property of land was changed into feudal there, 510. Government of, com- pared with that of modem France, 564. Small authority the kingsof, enjoyed over their armies, illustrated in an anecdote of Clotaire I., 565. Account of the popular assemblies of, ib. Salic laws how enacted, ib Were not subject to taxation, 566. See France. Geoffrey de f^illehardouin, his account of the magnificence of Constantinople at the time when taken by the Crusaders, 520. Germans, ancient, an account of their usages and way of life, 504. Their method of engaging in war, ib. Comparison between them and the North American Indians, 505. Why they had no cities, 525. The practice of compound- ing for personal injuries by fines, deduced from their usages, 541. Germany, little interested in foreign concerns at the beginning of the fifteenth century, 44. Na- tional infantry established in, 55. State of, under Charlemagne and descendants, 80. Con- rad, count of Franconia, chosen emperor, ib. His successors in the imperial dignity, ib. How the nobility of, acquired independent sovereign authority, ib. Fatal effects of aggrandizing the I lergy in, 81. Contest between the emperor Henry IV. and Pope Gregory VII., ib. Rise of the factions of Guelfs andGliibellines 82. De- cline ol the imperial authority, ib. House of Austria, by whom founded, ib. Total chaugi in the political constitution of the empire, ib. State of anarchy in which it continued to the rime«>f Vaximilian. lire immediate predecessor. o84 1 iN D E X. pf Charles V., ib. Divided into circles, 83. .Imperial chamber instituted, ib. Aulic council reformed, ib. View of its political constitution at the commencement of the ensuing history, ib. Its defects pointed out, ib. Imperial dig- nity and power compared, 84. Election of the emperors, ib. Repugnant forms of civil policy jn the several states of, 85. Opposition between the secular and ecclesiastical members of, ib. United body hence incapable of acting with vigour, ib. When cities tirst began to be built in, 525. When the cities of, first acquired mu- nicipal privileges, 5-2(3. Artisans of, wlien en- franchised, ib. Immediate cities in the Ger- man jurisprudence, what, ib. Great calamities occasioned there by private wars, 537. Origin of the league of the Rhine, ib. When private wars were finally abolished there, ib. Inquiry into the power, jurisdiction, and revenue of its emperors, 572. Ancient mode of electing the emperors, 574. Account of the diets, 575. Ghihdlines. See Gue/fs. Hhiarraddada, the battle of, 57. Glannillc, lord chief justice, the first who com- piled a body of common law, in all Europe, 5-18. Goths, Vandals, and Huns, overrun the Roman empire, and precipitate its downfal, 8. State of the countries from whence they issued, ib. Motives of their first excursions ib. How they came to settle in tite countries they conquered, :'. Comparison drawn between them and the Romans, at the period of their eruptions, 9, 10. Compared with the native Americans, JO. De- solation they occasioned in Europe, ib. Uni- versal change made by them in the state of Europe, 11. Principles on which they made • their settlements, ib. Origin of the feudal sys- tem, 12. See Feudal System. Inquiry into the administration of justice among, 24, 25 Their private wars, 25. Destroy the monuments of the Roman arts, 38. Their contempt of the Romans, and hatred of their arts, 500. Their aversion to literature, ib. No authentic account of their origin or ancient history existing, ib. Government,ho\\ limited by the feudal policy, 13. Effects of the crusades on, 10. How affected by the enfranchisement of cities, 20. Legisla- tive assemblies how formed, ib. Private wars destructive to the authority of, 24. Methods employed to abolish this hostile mode of' re- dressing injuries, 26. How affected by the su- preme independent jurisdictions of the barons, 29, 30. Steps towards abolishing them, 32. Origin and" growth of royal courts of justice, 32, 33. How influenced by the revival of sci- ence and literature, 39. View of, at the begin- ning of the fifteenth century, 42. Power of moiiarchs then very limited, ib. Their revenues small, 43. Their armies unfit for conquest, ib. Princes hence incapable of extensive plans of operation, ib. Kingdoms very little connected with each other, 43, 44. How the efforts of. from this period, became more powerful and extensive, 45. Consequences of England losing its provinces in Prance, ib. Scheme of Louis XI. of France to extend the regal power, 48. See Louis XI. Power of the English crown enlarged, 50. See Henry VII. As also that of Spain, ib. How the use of standing armies became general, in View of the political con- stitution of the several states of Europe, at the commencement of the sixteenth century, 58. In what respects the charters of communities granted by the kings of France tended to intro- duce a regular form of, 523. Greece, the breeding of silk-worms, when intro- duced there, 554. Greek emperors, their magnificence at Constan- tinople, 519. Gregory of Tours, remarks on the state of Eu- rope during the period of which he wrote the lustorv, 15 Gregory the Great, pope, his reason for granting liberty to his slaves, 529. VII., pope, foundation of his contests with Henry IV. emperor of Germany, 81. The mean submission he extorted from Henry, ib. His own account of this affair, 572. Gu.clf.-i and Ulnbellines, rise of those factions in Germany, 82. Guicciardini, instance of his superstitious reve- rence lor pope Clement VII., 03, note. (luntheras, a monk, his character of Constantino- ple, at the time when taken by the crusaders, 520. Hanseatic league, when formed, and its influence onthe extension of commerce, 41. 556. Henry IV. of Castile, solemnly tried and deposed by an assembly of Castilian nobles, 70. , emperor of Germany, the humiliating state to which he was reduced by pope Gregory VII., 81. 572. VII. of England, his situation at his ac- cession to the crown, 50. Enables his barons to break their entails and sell their estates, ib. Prohibits his barons keeping retainers, ib. En courages agriculture and commerce, ib. Herebannum, the nature of this fine under the feudal policy, explained, 508. He rmandad, Santa, account of that institution,564. History, the most calamitous period of, pointed out, 11), 11. Holy Brotherhood, an association in Spain under that name, on what occasion formed, 75, 76. Land, the original inducements of the Chris- tians to rescue it from the hands of the infidels, 16. See Crusades and Peter the Hermit. Honour, points of the ancient Swedish law for determining, 538. Hospitality, enforced by statutes during the mid- dle ages, 552. Huns, instance of their enthusiastic passion for war, 500. Some account of their policy and maimers, 502. See Goths. Janizaries, origin and formidable nature of those troops, 87. Imperial chamber of Germany instituted, 83. The occasion of its institution, 575. Imli, ma, North American, a comparison drawn between them and the ancient Germans, 505. Industry, the spirit of, how excited by the en- franchisements of cities, 21. Infantry, the advantages of. beyond cavalry, taught to the rest of Europe by the Swiss, 55. National bodies of, established in Germany, ib. In France and Spain, 55, 56. Inheritance, and right of representation, between orphan grandsons and their uncles, how de- cided in the tenth century, 539. Interest of money, the necessity of admitting, in a commercial view, 555. Preposterously con- demned by the churchmen of the middle ages, ib. The cause hence of the exorbitant exac- tions of the Lombard bankers, ib. Italy, when the cities of, began to form themselves into uodies politic, 20. Commerce first im- proved there, and the reasons of it, 40. The revolutions in Europe occasioned by the inva- sion of, by Charles VIII. of France, 53. The state of, at the time of this invasion, ib. The rapid success of Charles, 53. 54. A combina- tion of the states of, drives Charles out of, and gives birth to the balance of power in Europe, 54. The political situation of, at the com- mencement of the sixteenth century, 59. The papacy, ib. Venice, 63. Florence, 64. Na- ples, ib. Milan, 66. Evidences of the desola- tion made there by the northern invaders of the. Roman empire, 503. How the cities of, obtained their municipal privileges, 520. State of, under Frederic I., 521. Treaty of Con- stance lK'tween the free cities of, and the em- peror Frederic Barharossa, 52? INDEX. 585 Judgment of God, modea Of acquittal by, in the law proceedings during tin: middle ages, 28. 537. Judicium Cruets, method of trial by, 537 Julius II., pope, forms a confederacy against the Venetians at Cainbray, 57. Seizes part of the Venetian territories, ib. Confederacy dissolved, ib. Turns his schemes against France, 58. Jurisprudence, ecclesiastical, more perfect in its plan than the civil courts in the middle ages, 26. See Law. Justice, an inquiry into the administration of, under the feudal policy, 24. Steps towards the improvement of, as civil liberty advanced, 25. Redress chiefly pursued by private wars, ib. Methods taken to suppress private wars, 20. Judicial combats prohibited, 27. The delects of judicial proceedings in the middle ages, ib. Compurgators, the nature of that kind of evi- dence, ib. Methods of trial by ordeal, or ac- quittal by judgment of God, 28. Origin of the supreme independent jurisdictions of the feudal barons, 32. Extent and bad effects of their privileges, ib. Steps taken by monarchs to re- duce the barons' courts, ib. Growth of royal courts of justice, 33. Inquiry into the canon law, ib. How improved by the revival of the Roman law. 34. ■ When the administration of, became a distinct profession, 35. Justiza, or supreme judge of Arragon, his office and privileges, 71. An inquiry by whom this officer was elected, 557. Who was eligible to this office, 558. Nature of the tribunal ap- pointed to control his administration, ib. In- stance of his extensive power, 558, 559. King, his power how circumscribed by the ba- rons, under the feudal system, 13. By what means the crusades tended to enlarge the regal authority, 18. Koran, its influence in checking the sultans of the Ottoman empire, 87. Land, how held at the establishment of the feu- dal system, 12. See Feudal System. , the property of, how considered by the an- cient barbarous nations, 507. Allodial posses- sion of, explained, ib. The proprietors how subjected to military service, 507, 508. Allo- dial and beneficiary possession distinguished, 508. Allodial property why generally con- verted into feudal, 509.' Law, when the study of it became a distinct em- ployment, 36. , canon, an inquiry into, 33. The maxims of, more equitable than the civil courts of the middle ages, ib. When first compiled, 548. , Roman, how it sunk into oblivion, 35. Cir- cumstames which favoured the revival of it, ib. _ Its effects in improving the administration of justice, ib. Its rapid progress over Europe, 548. J^awbnrrowa, in the Scottish law, explained, 523. J.ibrrtu, civil, the rise and progress of, traced, 20, 21. How favoured by the ordounancesof Louis X. of France, and his brother Philip, S3. The spirit of, how excited in Fiance, 527. The particulars included in the charters of, granted n> husbandmen, 528. The influence of tine Christian religion In extending, 589. The se- veral opportunities of obtaining, 533. Limogtii, council of, its endeavours to extinguish private wars. xva. Literature, cultivation of. greatly imtr imental in riv iliziii" I he nations of Europe, .'7. Why the first efforts of, ill-directed, 38. The good effects nevertheless of the spirit of inquiry ex- erted, 39. How checked in its progress, ib. Its influence on manners and government, ib. Z4turgv, the preference between the Musarabic and Romish, how ascertained in Spain, 539. Lombards, the first bankers in Europe, 555 The motive of their exacting exorbitant interest, ib. Vol. IT.— 74 London, its flourishing state at the time of Henry II , 527. Louis le Gros, of France, his inducement to grant: privileges to towns within his own domains, 20. See Charters. , St., the great attention he paid to the ad- ministration of justice, in appeals which came before him, 545. X. of France, his ordonnances in favour of civil liberty, 23. XI. of Fiance, his character, 48. His schemes lor depressing the nobility, ib. Sows divisions among them, ib. Increases the stand- ing forces, .49. Enlarges the revenues of the crown, ib. His address in overruling the as- sembly of states, ib. Extends the bounds of the French monarchy, ib. The activity of his external operations, 50. His treacherous base- ness towards the heiress of Burgundy, 51, 52. The effects of his conduct, 52. XII., his hesitation in carrying on tnr against the pope, 62, note. Asserts his right to the dutchy of Milan, and retains Ludovico Sforza in prison, 67 Manfved, his struggles for the crown of Naples, 65. Mankind, the most calamitous period in the his- tory of, pointed out, 10, 11. Manners, the barbarity of, under the feudal esta blishments, after the overthrow of the Roman empire, 14. When they began to improve, 15. Effects of the crusades on, 17, 18. How im- proved by the enfranchisement of cities, 22. How improved by the erection of royal courts of justice, in opposition to the barons' courts, 33. Effects of the revival of the Roman law on, 35. The beneficial tendency of the spirit of chivalry on, 37. How influenced by the progress of science, ib. How polished by the revival of commerce, 41. Manumission, particulars included in the charters of, granted to husbandmen or slaves, 528. The form of, 529. Maximilian, archduke of Austria, married to Mary, heiress of Burgundy, 52. The influence of this match on the state of Europe, ib. , emperor, institutes the imperial chamber, 83. Reforms the Aulic council, ib. Medici, Cosmo di, the first of the name, the in- fluence he acquired in Florence, 64. Milan, the state of the dutchy of, at the com- mencement of the sixteenth century, 66. Rise and progress of the disputes concerning the succession to, ib. Mind, the human, a view of, under the first esta- blishment of the feudal policy in Europe, 14. The era of its ultimate depression, and com- • mencement of its improvement, 15. The pro- gress of its operations, before the full exertion of it, 38, 39. Minister) ales, a class of the Oblati, or voluntai y slaves, the pious motives of the obligations they entered into, 530. Moors, make a conquest of Spain, 68. By what means weaketied during their establishment there, ib Remarks on their conduct itiSpaiu,ii!i. Municipal privileges, how obtained by the cities of Italy, 520. Secured to them by the treaty of Constance, 522. The favourite state of, under the Roman government, 525. Naples, a view of the constitution of that king- dom at the commencement of the sixteenth century, 64. The turbulent. Unsettled stale of that kingdom, 65 Slate of the disputes con- cerning the succession of the crown of, ib. The pretensions of the French and Spanish monarchs to the crown of, ib. Narbonnc, community of, preamble to tlie writ of summons of Philip tie Long to. 527, 588. Navigation, proof of the imperfoft state of, during the middle ages. 556. -BO INDEX. Netherlands, vigorous prosecution of the manu- factures of licmp and flax more, on the revival of commerce in Europe, 41. »Vor ma/is, .wuy so lew traces ol their usages and language to be found nEn.la id, in comparison with those of tne Saxons, 501. Oblati, or voluntary slaves, the classes of, speci- fied, 530. Ordeal, methods of trial by, during the middle ages, 28. The influence o, superstition in Ro- tating these means, ib. Otto, Frisiiigensis, Ins account of the stale of Italy under Frederic I., 5-21. Ottoman empire, the origin a id despotic nature of, 86. Becomes formidable to the Christian powers, 88. Papacy- See Popedom. Paper, when first made of the present materials, 516. Paris, an inquiry into the pre-eminent jurisdiction of its parliament over the other parliaments of France, 79. Its origin traced, 570. The royal edicts registered by, before admitted to be laws. 571. Parliaments, or legislative assemblies, how form ed under the feudal policy, 22. How altered by the progress of civil liberty, ib. People, their wretched servile state under the feudal system, 13. 23. Released from their slavish state by the_ enfranchisement of cities, 22. How they obtained a representation in national councils, ib. Those who lived in the country and cultivated the ground, an inquiry into their condition under the feudal policy, 512. Persia, murder in, how punished there, 542. Peter the Hermit, excites the European princes to undertake the Holy War, 16. IV. king of Arragou, defeats the leaders of the Arragonese union, and destroys the pri- vilege of these associations, 560. Philip the Long, preamble to liis writ of summons to the community of iVarbinne, 527, 52S. Philosophy, cultivated by the Arabians, when lost in Europe, 550, 551. Its progress from them into Europe, 551. Pilgrimages to the Holy Land, when first un- dertaken, 16. See Crusades and Peter the Hermit. Placcntia, council of, the Holy War resolved on by, 16. See Peter the Hermit and Crusades. Plunder, how divided among the ancient northern nations, 12 Illustrated in an anecdote of CIo- vis, 507. Popedom, the highest dignity in Europe at the commencement of the sixteenth century, 59. Origin and progress of the papal power, it. The territories of the popes unequal to the sup- port of their spiritual. jurisdiction, 60. Their authority in their own territories extremely limited, ib. The check they received from the JRoinan barons, ib. Nicholas Rienzo attempts to establish a democratical government in Home, and to destroy the papal jurisdiction, 61. The papal authority considerably strengthened by the popes Alexander VI. and Julius II., ib. See Julius II. The permanent nature, of ec- clesiastical dominion, ib. The civil adminis- tration of, not uniform or consistent, ib Rome the school of political intrigue during the six- teenth century, 62. The advantages derived from the union of spiritual and temporal au- thority, ib. A view of the contests between the popes and the emperors of Germany, 81. Populousncss of the ancient northern nations, an inquiry into, 8 Priscus, extract from his account of the Roman embassy to Attila king of the Huns, 500. Procopius, his account of the cruel devastations made by the irruption of the northern nations, 501. 502. " ' Property, the possession of, bow secured by the French charters oi communities, 522. Proveditori, in the Venetian policy, tlieir oflice,63. Religion, how corrupted by the northern nations estabtislied in Europe under Hie leudai policy, 14. Us iurJucnce in freeing mankind from the feudal servitude, 529. licpledging, the right of, in the law of Scotland, explained, 544. Reproach, vvoids >f, the ancient Swedish law of satisfaction for, 538. Revenues, royal, very small undei the feudal po- licy, 43. Uy wuai means in leased, 56. Rhine, origin and intention of the leag ie of, 537. Rienzo, Nicholas, endeavours to rescue Rome from the papal authority, and esi :b!ish a demo- cratical form of government there, 61. Robbers, the a lathema pronounced against them during the middle ages, 554. Rodulph of Hapsburgh, how he attained election to tne empire of Germany, 82. Romans, an inquiry into those advantages which enabled them to conquer the rest ol Europe, 7. The improvements they communicated in re- turn for their conquests, ib. The disadvantages the provinces laboured under, from their do- minion, ib. Their empire overturned by the irruption of the barbarous nations, 8. The concurrent causes of their ruin, 9. A compa- rison drawn between them and the northern nations, 10. All the civil arts established by them obliterated, ib. The monuments of their arts industriously destroyed by their barbarous invaders, 38. Rome, papal. See Popedom. Royal truce, an account of, 534. Salic laws, the manner tn which they were en- acted, 565. Sazons, why so many traces of their laws, lan- guage, and customs to be found in England, 501. Inquiry into their laws for putting an end to private wars, 535, 536 Science, the revival and progress of, how far in- strumental in civilizing the nations of Europe, 37. A summary view of the revival and pro- gress of, in Europe, 550. Sforza, Francis, the foundation of his pretensions to the dutchy of Milan, 67. Is murdered by his uncle Ludovico, ib. Ludovico, his private views in engaging Charles VIII. of France to invade Italy, 53. See Charles VIII. Murders his nephew Fran- cis, and seizes Milan, 67. Is stripped of his dominions by Louis XII. of France, and dies in prison, ib. Shipwrecks, the right lords of manors claim to, whence derived, 553. Silk, the rarity of, and the high price it bore in ancient Rome, remarked, 554. The breeding of silk-worms, when introduced into Greece, ib. Slanes, letters of, in the law of Scotland, what, 542 Slaves, under the feudal policy, their wretched state, 512, 513. Oblati, or voluntary slaves, the several classes of, 530 Society, civil, the rude state of, under the feudal establishments after the downfalof the Roman empire, 14. The influence of the crusades on, 17. How improved by the establishment of municipal communities, 19. The effects the enfranchisements of the people had on, 23. Private wars, how destructive to, 24. These intestine hostilities, how suppressed, 26. The administration of justice improved by the pro- hibition of judicial combats, 27. The growth of royal courts of justice, in opposition to the barons' courts, 33. How advanced by the re- vival of the Roman law, 35. The effects of the spirit of chivalry in improving, 36. The revival of commerce- and its influences, 3T. ir>DEX. 587 Solyman, sultan, Ins characti I Spain, a summary view of its situation, at the commencement of t lie fifteenth century, 42. The power of the crown of, how extended l>y Ferdinand, 50. National infantry established in, 55. Is conquered by the Vandals, and alter by the Moors, ti8. The empire of the Moors in, how weakened, ib. Rise of the kingdoms of Casiile and Arragon, ib. Their union into the Spanish monarchy. 60. The ancient cus- toms still retained amidst all its evolutions, ib. Peculiarities in its constitution and laws re- marked, ib. See Jirragon and Castile. Va- rious causes which coniubuted to limit the legal power in, 73. The cities of how they attained their consideration and power, 74. The schemes of Ferdinand and Isabella, to ( xalt the regal power, ib. The grand master- ships ol the three orders annexed to tile crown, 75. The association of the Holy Brotherhood, on what occasion formed, 76. Tile tendency of this association to abridge the territorial jurisdictions of the barons, ib. The cruel de- vastations made by the Vandals in the invasion of that province, 501. When the cities of, ac- quired municipal privileges, 527. The long continuance of the practice of private wars there, 536. The total annual revenue of the nobility, in the time of Charles V., 562. An inquiry into the origin of communities or free nties in, ib. St. Jago, tile military order of, when and on what occasion instituted, 503. Standing armies. See Armies. states general of France, causes which rendered their authority imperfect, 76. When they lost their legislative authority, 77. When first as- sembled, 570. The form of proceeding in them, ib. Stephen, earl of Chartres and Blois, his account of the progress of the Crusaders, 518. Stiernhook, his account of the ancient Swedish law of satisfaction for words of reproach, 538. Stranger*, in what light considered, and how Heated during the middle ages, and under the feudal policy, 553. Sugar canes, when first brought from Asia into Europe, and thence carried to America, 554, Sultans, Turkish, their despotic power, 86. How nevertheless limited, 87. Superstition, its influence in the legal proceedings during the middle ages, 27. Swiss, the superior discipline of their troops, in .he fifteenth century, 55. Teach other nations the advantages of infantry over cavalry, ib. Tacitus, his account of the ancient Germans compared with that of Ca:sar, 504. Tenures, feudal, the origin of, 12. See Feudal System and JawiI. Theology, scholastic, the first literary pursuits at the revival of learning in F.urope, 38. Truce of Ood, an account of, 534. 1'nrkey, origin of its government. 86. The de- spoiic genius oi this government, ib. No he- reditary nobility in, 577. The authority of the sultans, how checked, 8< . Origin of the Jani- zaries, ib Becomes .ormidable to the Chris- tian princes, 88. Union of the Arragonese nobles to control the undue exercise oi regal power, explained, 559. This privilege abrogated by Peter IV., 560. Universities, the first establishment of, in Eu- rope, 551. Vandals, their cruel devastations in the invasion of Spain, 501. The havoc made by them in Africa, 501, 502. See troths. Vassals, under the feudal system, a view of their slavish condition, 13. 23. How they obtained enfranchisement, 23. How anciently distin- guished from In emeu, 507 — 512. Their wretch- ed state under their feudal masters, 512, 513. Venice, the long duration oi its civil constitution, and its flourishing state at the time of the league of Cambray, 56, 57. Its possessions dismem bered by the conlederaies, 57. Dissolves tho confederacy, ib. Its rise and progress, 63. Defects in its constitution, ib. The excellency of its naval institutions, 64. Its extensive com- merce, ib. Visconti, rise of the family of, in Milan, 60. War, a comparison between the manner of car tying on, by barbarous and by civilized na- tions, 10. How rendered feeble in its operations by the feudal policy, 13. The protession of arms the most honourable in uncivilized na- tions, 35. The rise of standing armies traced, 46. By what means standing forces became general, 54. The superioriiy of infantry in, how taught, 55. Wars, private, for the redressing personal inju- ries, under the feudal policy, an inquiry into, 25. Melhods taken to abolish this hostile prac- tice, 26. Judicial combat prohibited, 27. In- quiry into the sources of these customs, 531. Who entitled to the privileges of exercising, ib. On what occasions undertaken, 531, 532. Who included, or bound to engage in these disputes, 532. Who excluded from undertaking, ib. The cruel manner of prosecuting them, ib. A chronological account of the expedients made use of to suppress them, 533. Truce of God, an account of, Brotherhood of God, an account of, 534. Royal Truce, what, ib. Saxon laws of England for putting an end to them, 5:15, 536. The obstinate attachment of the Spaniards to this practice, 536. The calamities occasioned in Germany by, 537. Welsh, ancient, strangers killed with impunity by them. 553. Wi'lla, widow of duke Hugo, extract from her charter of manumission, granted to Cleriza. one of her slaves, 529. Willermus, archbishop of Tyre, his account of Constantinople, 520. Wittikindus, abbot, his testimony in favour of the judicial combat, 540. INDEX REIGN OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES V. ABSOLUTION, the form of that used by father Tetzel in Germany, 126, note. Adorm, the faction of, assists the imperial general Colonna in the reduction of Genoa, 157. Adrian, of Utrecht, made preceptor to Charles V. under William de Croy, lord of Chievres, 98. His character, ib. Sent by Ciiarles with power to assume the regency of Castile on the death of bis grandfather, 101. Hi? claim admitted by cardinal Ximenes, and executed in conjunc- tion, ib. Authorized hy Charles to bold the Cortes of Valencia, which refuses to assemble before him, 118. Made viceroy of Castile on the departure of Charles for Germany, 110. His election remonstrated against by the Casti- lians, ib. Is chosen pope, 156. Retrospect of his conduct in Spain during the absence of Charles, 161. Sends Ronquiilo to reduce the Segovians, who repulse him, ib. Sends Fon- seca to besiege the city, who is repulsed by the inhabitants of Medina del Campo, ib. Apolo- gizes for Fonseca's conduct to the people, 162. Recalls Fonsera, and dismisses his troops, ib. His authority disclaimed hy the holy Junta, 163. Deprived of power by them, 164. His ill re- ception on his arrival at Rome on being chosen to the papacy, 174. Restores the territories acquired by his predecessor, 175. Labouisto unite the contending powers of -Europe, ib. Publishes a hull for a three years' truce among them, ib. Accedes to the league against the French king, ib. His death, 179 The senti- ments and behaviour of the people on that oc- casion, ib. A retrospect of his conduct towards the reformers, 183. His brief to the diet of Nuremberg, ib. Receives a list of grievances from the diet, 184. His conduct to the reformers, how esteemed at Rome, 185. Africa, the Spanish troops sent by cardinal Ximenes against Barharossa, defeated there, 105. Aifrucs Mortes, interview between the emperor Charles and Francis there, 274. Aix-la-Chapelle, the emperor Charles crowned there, 124. Ferdinand his brother crowned king of the Romans there, 238. Alarcon, Don Ferdinand, Francis I. of France, taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia, committed to his custody, 193. Conducts Francis to Spain 197. Delivers up Francis in pursuance of the treaty of Madrid. 204. Is sent ambassador to Francis to require the fulfilment of his treaty, 210. Pope Clement VII., taken prisoner by the imperiatisis, is committed to his custody, 218. Albany, .lohn Stuart, duke of commands the French army sent bv Francis I. to invade Na- ples, 190 Albert, df Brandenburgh, grand master of the Teutonic order, becomes a convert to the doc- trines of Luther, 208. Obtains of Sigismund king of Poland the investiture of Prussia, erected into a dutchy, ib. Put under the ban of the empire, ib. His family fixed in the in- heritance of Prussia, ib. Commands a body of troops in behalf of Maurice of Saxony, but endeavours to assert an independency, 410. Defeats and takes the duke d' Aumale prisoner, and joins the emperor at Metz, 419. is con- demned by the imperial chamber for his de- mands on the bishops of Bamberg and Wurlz hiirg, 423. A league formed against him, 424. Is defeated by Maurice, ib. Is again defeated hy Henry of Brunswick, 425. Is driven out of Germany, and dies in exile; 'ib. His territories restored to his collateral heirs, ib. Albert, (lector of Mentz, the publication of in- dulgences in Germany committed to him, 125. Alexander VI. pope, remarks on the pontificate of, 136. Alexander di Medici. See Afnlici. Algiers, how it was seized by Barharossa, 252, 253. Is seized by the brother of the same name, on the de3th of the former, 253. Is taken under the protection of the Porte, ib. Is governed hy Hascen Aga in the absence of Barharossa, 298. Is besieged by the emperor Charles V , 28» ■ iion, how Ferdinand became possessed of that Kingdom, 89. The Cortes of, acknow- ledges the archduke Philip s title to the crown, 90. Ancient enmity between this kingdom and Castile, 91. Navarre added to this crown by the arts ot Ferdinand, 97. Arrival of Charles V., 109. The Cortes not allowed to assemble in his name, 110. The refractory behaviour of the Arragonians, ib. They refuse restitu- tion of the kingdom of Navarre, ib. Don John Lanuza appointed regent, on the departure of Charles tbi Germany, 119. Who composes the disturbances there, 173. The moderation of Charles towards the insurgents on bis arrival in Spain, 174. See Spain. Ardres, an interview between Francis 1. and Henry Vlll. of England, 123. Asturias, Charles, sou of Philip and Joanna, acknowledged prince of, by the Cortes of Cas- tile, 95. .liin.ihurrr, a diet called there by Charles V., 236. His public entry into that city, ib. The con- fession of faith named from this city, drawn up by Melancthon, 237. Resolute behaviour of the protesiant princes at, ib. Its form of government violently altered, and rendered submissive to the emperor, 371 The diet again assembled there, 372. Is intimidated by being surrounded by the emperor's Spanish troops, ib. The emperor re-establishes the Romish worship in the churches of, ib. The diet, by the emperor's order, petitions the pope for the return of the council to Trent, 375. A system of theology laid before the diet by the emperor, :t77. The archbishop of Mentz declares, with- out authority, the diet's acceptance of it, ib. The diet re-assembled there, 385. The diet takes part with the emperor against the city of Magdeburg, 388. Is seized by Maurice of Sax- ony, 405. Another diet at, opened by Ferdi- nand, 443. Cardinal Morone attends the diet as the pope's nuncio, ib. Morone departs on the pope's death, 444. Recess of the diet on the subject of religion, 445. Remarks on this recess, 447. Avila, a convention of the malecontents in Spain held there, 162. A confederacy, termed the holy Junta, formed there, 163. Which dis- claims the authority of Adrian, ib. The holy Junta removed to Tordesiilas, ib. See Junta. Austria, by what means the house of, became so formidable in Germany, 219. The extraordi- nary acquisitions of the house of, in the person of the emperor Charles V.. 489. 490. Batbarossa, Home, his rise to the kingdom of Algiers and Tunis, 105. Defeats he Spanish troops sent against him by cardinal Ximenes, ib. His parentage, 252. Commences pirate with his brother Hayradin, ib. How he ac- quired possession of Algiers, ib. Infests the coast of Spain, 253. Is reduced and killed by Comares the Spanish governor of Oran, ib. , Hayradin, brother to the former of the same name, takes possession of Algiers on his brother's death, 253. Puts his dominions under the protection of the Grand Signior, ib. Obtains the command of the Turkish fleet, ib. ilis treacherous treatment of Alraschid, bro- ther to the king of Tunis, 254. Seizes Tunis, ib. Extends his depredations by sea, ib. Pre pares to resist the emperor's armament against iiim, 255. Goletta and his fleet taken, 256. Is defeated by Charles, ib. Tunis taken, 257. M akes a descent on Italy, 309. Burns Rheggio, ib. Besieges Nice in conjunction with the French, but is forced to retire, ib. Is dismissed by Francis, 314. Barbanj, a summary view of the revolution of, 252. Its division into independent kingdoms, ib. Rise of the piratical states, ib. See Bar- ftflflMM. Barcelona, the public entry of the emperor Charles V. into that city as its count, 233. The treaties of Charles with the Italian states published there, 234. Bayard, chevalier, his character, 151. His gal- lant defence of Meziers, besieged by the impe- rialist:-, ib Obliges Iheui to ituse the siege, ib. His noble behaviour at his death, 181. His respectful funeral, 182. Bcllay, M ., his erroneous account of the educa- tion tif Charles V. corrected, 98, note His account of the disastious retreat of the empe- ror Charles V. from his invasion of Provence. 269. Bible, a translation of, undertaken by Martin Luther, and its effects in opening the eyes of the people, 182. Btocca, battle of, between Colonna and mareschal Lautrec, 157. Buccold, or Beukels, John, a journeyman tailor, becomes a leader of the anabaptists at Munster, 246. Succeeds Matthias in the direction of their affairs, 247. His enthusiastic extrava- gances, ib. Is chosen king, 248. Marries four- teen wives, ib. Beheads one o; them, 249. Is put to a cruel death at the taking of Munster, 250. 'See Anabaptists. Bohemia, the archduke Ferdinand chosen king of, 219. Ferdinand encroaches on the liberties of the Bohemians, 371. The Reformation in- troduced by John lluss and Jerome of Prague, ib. Raise an army to no purpose, ib. Bologna, an interview between the emperor Charles V. and pope Clement VII. there, 233. Another meeting between them there, 241. Bonnivet, admiral of France, appointed to com- mand the invasion of Milan, 178. His charac- ter, ib. Enables Cotonna to defend the city of Milan by his imprudent delay, 178, 179. Forced to abandon the Milanese, 181. Is wounded, and his army defeated by the imperialists, ib. Stimulates Francis to an invasion of the Mi- lanese, 188. Advises Francis to besiege Pavia, 189 Advises him to give battle to Bourbon, who advanced to the relief of Pavia, 191. Is killed at the battle of Pavia, 192. Bouillon, Robert de la Marck, lord of, declares war against the emperor Charles, at the insti- gation of Francis, 150. Is ordered by Francis to disband his troops, 151. His territories re- duced by tbe.emperor, ib. Boulogne, besieged by Henry VUI. of England. 317. Taken, 320. Bourbon, Charles, duke of, his character, 176. The causes of his discontent with Francis I% ib. His duchess dies, ib. Rejects the advances of Louise the king's mother, 177. His estate sequestered by her intrigues, ib Negotiates secretly with the emperor, ib. Is included in a treaty between the emperor and Henry VIII. of England, ib. Is taxed by the king with be- traying him, which he denies, 178. Escapes to Italy, ib. Directs the measures of the imperial army under Lannoy, 181. Defeats the French on the banks of the Sessia, ib. Instigates Charles to an invasion of France, 186. Ad- vances to the relief of Pavia, 191. Defeats Francis, and takes him prisoner, 192. Hastens to Madrid to secure his own interests in the in- terview between Charles and Francis, 198. His kind reception by Charles, 199. Obtains a grant of the dutchy of Milan, and is made general of the imperial army, 201. Obliges St'orza to surrender Milan, 211. Is forced to oppress the Milanese to satisfy his troops muti- nying for pay, 213. Sets Morone at liberty, and makes him his confidant, ib. Appoints Leyva governor of Milan, and advances to in- vade the pope's territories, 214. His disap- pointed troops mutiny, 215. lie determines to plunder Rome, 216. Arrives at Rome, anrl assaults it. Sll Is killed, ill 5W INDEX. Brandenburgh, elector of, avows the opinions of Luther, 183. , Albert of. See Albert. Bruges, a league concluded there between the emperor and Henry V11I. of England against Fiance, 152. Brunswick, duke of, avows the opinions of Lu- ther, 183 , Henry, duke of, driven from his do- minions by the prolestant princes of the league of Smalkalde, 312 Raises men for Francis, but employs them to recover his own domin- ions, 325. Is taken prisoner, 326. Buda, siege of, by Ferdinand king of the Romans, 297. Is treacherously seized by sultan Soly- man, 298. Cajetan, cardinal, the pope's legate in Germany, appointed* to examine the doctrines of Martin Luther, 129. Requires Luther peremptorily to retract his errors, 130. Requires the elector of Saxony to surrender or banish Luther, ib. His conduct justified, 131. Calais, an ineffectual congress there, between the emperor and Francis, under the mediation of Henry VIII., 151. The careless manner in which it was guarded in the reign of Mary queen of England, 474. Ineffectual remon- strances of Philip, and lord VVentwortli the governor, concerning its defenceless state, 474, 475. Is invested and taken by the duke of Guise, 475. The English inhabitants turned out, 476. Stipulations concerning, in the treaty of Chateau Cambresis, 485. < timbrcn/, articles of the peace concluded there between the emperor Charles and Francis of France, 457. Remarks on this treaty, 458. Campc, peace of, between Henry VIII. and Francis, 338. Campeggio, cardinal, made legate from pope Cle- ment VII. to the second diet at Nuremberg, 185. Publishes articles for reforming the in- ferior' clergy, 186. Advises Charles to rigorous measures against the protestants, 237. ' apitulation of the Germanic bod?, signed by Charles V. and prescribed to all his successors, 116. < 'araffn, cardinal, his precipitate election, 448. Is appointed legate to Bologna, 460. Reasons of his disgust with the emperor, ib. Persuades the pope to solicit an alliance with France against the emperor, 451. His insidious com- mission to the court of France, 459. His public entry into Paris, ib. Exhorts Henry to break his truce with the emperor, ib. Absolves Henry from his oath, 160. Negotiates .'i peace between the pope and Philip, with the duke d'AIva, 472. The fate of him and his brother on the death of pope Paul, 488. i 'arlvstadius, imbibes the opinions of Martin Luther, at Wittembera, 134. His intemperate teal, 183. Awed by the reproofs of Lut Iter, ib. ' nrignan, besieged by the count d'Engnicu, and defended by the marquis do Guasto, 314. Guasto defeated in a pitched battle, ^15. The town taken, ib. ist Mo, marquis of Pindeno. Sec Piadeno. i 'astile, how Isabella became possessed of that kingdom, 89. The archduke Philip's title ac- knowledged by the ('ore sof that kingdom, 90 Isabella dies, and leaves her husband Ferdinand of Arragon regent, 91. Ferdinand resijj 16 the crown of, ib. Ferdinand acknowledged regent )>v the Cortes', ib. Enmity between this king- dom and Arragon, ib. The particular dislike of the Castiliuns to Ferdinand, ib. The re- gency of, jointly vested in Ferdinand Philip, and Joanna, by the treaty of Salaniarna, 94. Declares against Ferdinand, ib. Tlie regency of, resigned by Ferdinand to Philip, ib. Philip and Joanna acknowledged king and queen by the Cortes, 95. Heath of Philip, ib. The per- plexity of the Castilians on Joanna's incapacity for government, ib. Ferdinand gains the re- gency and the good will ot the Castilians by ilis prudent administration, 96. Uran anil other places in tiarbary annexed to this king- dom by Ximenes, 97 Ximenes appointed re- gent by Ferdinand's will, until the arrival of Charles V., lOO. Charles assumes the regal title, 101. Ximenes procures its aoknowledg meni, 101, 108. The nobility depressed by Xi menes, 102. The grandees mutiny against Ximenes, 103. The mutiny suppressed, ib Ximenes resumes the grants made by Fenli nand to the nobles, ib. The bold reply of Xi- menes to the discontented nobles, 104. Other associates in the regency appointed with Xi- menes at the instigation of the Flemish cour- tiers, ib. Ximenes dies, 108. Charles acknow- ledged king by the Cortes, on his arrival, with a reservation in favour of his mother Joanna, ib. The Castilians receive unfavourable im pressions of him, 109. Disgusted by his par- tiality to his Flemish ministers, ib. Sauvage made chancellor, ib. William de Croy ap- pointed archbishop of Toledo, ib. The prin- cipal cities confederate, arrd complain of their grievances, 110. The clergy of, refuse to levy the tenth of benefices granted by the pope to Charles V., 117. Interdicted, but the interdict taken off by Charles's application, ib. An insurrection there, 117, 118 Increase of the disaffection', 118. Cardinal Adrian appointed recent, on the departure of Charles for Ger- many, 119. The views and pretensions of the (ominous in their insurrections, 162. The con- federacy called the holy Junta formed, 163. The proceedings of which are carried on in the name of queen Joanna, ib. Receives circula- tory letters from Charles for the insurgents to lay down their arms, with promises of pardon. 164. The nobles undertake to suppress the iu surgents, 166. Raise an army against them under the Condi de Ilaro, 167. Haro gets pos- session of Joanna, ib. Expedients by which they raise money for their troops, 168. Un- willing to proceed to extremities with the Junta, ib. The army of the Junta routed, and Padilla executed", 170. Dissolution of the Junta, 171. The moderation of Charles towards the insur gents, on his arrival in Spain, 174. He acquires the love of the Castilians, ib. See Spain. Catharine of Arragon, is divorced from Henry VIII. of England, 244, Dies, 276. Catharine a Boris a nun, dies from her cloister, and marries Martin Luther, 207. Catharine di Medici. See Medici. Car,i, peace concluded there between pope Paul IV. and Philip II. of Spain, 472. Cer.com p ee'.oiiaiionsfor ("'ace entered into there between Philip II. of Spain and Henry II. of France, 481. The negotiations removed to Chateau Cambresis, 485. See Chateau- Cam - hi r'.-',:N. Characters of men, rules for forming a proper estimate of them, 330. Applied to the case of Luther, ib. ( hurl .. IV., emperor of Germany, his observation on the manners of the clergy, in his letter to the archbishop of Met/.. 137J note. Charles V., emperor, his descent and birth, 89. How he came to possess such extensive dentin ions, ib. Acknowledged prineepf \stnriashy the Cortes of Castile, 93 Ilis father Philip dies. il>. Jeal tusy and hatred of his grand father Ferdinand towards him, 97. Left heir to his dominions, 98. Death of Ferdinand, Ib His education committed to William de Croj lord of Chievres ib. Adrian of Utrecht ap- pointed to be Ilis pri'ceptor, ib. The first open ins of his character. '"' Assumes the govern ■ merit of Flanders, and attends to business-, ib Sends cardinal Adrian to be recent of Cas|j|,.. ItsDEX. 5n wuo executes it jonitiy with Ximencs, 100. Assumes the regal title, 101. His title admitted with difficulty by Uiu Casliiian nobility, ib. Persuaded to add associate regents to \iiiienes, 104. His Flemish court corrupted by the ava- rice of Chievres, 105. Persuaded by Ximeues to visit Spaiu, but bow that journey is retarded, 106. The present slate o. nis ari'airs, ib. Con- cludes a peace at vo\en wiiii Francis 1. ol France, and the co.iditions of the treaty, ib. Arrive^ in Spain, 107. His ungrateful tieat- mem of Xuuenes, 108. "His public entry into Valladol.d, ib. Is acknowledged King by tne Cortes, wlio vote him a free gift, ib. The i as- tilians receive unfavourable impressions of him, 10:). Disgusts them by his parlia.Uy to his Flemish ministers, ib. Sets out far Arra son, ib. Sends his bruilier Ferdinand to visit their grandfather Maximilian, ib. Cannot as- semble the Cortes of Arragon in his own name, 110. The opposition made by thai assembly to his desires, ib. Refuses the application of Francis I. for the restitution of the kingdom of Navarre, ib. Neglects the remonstrances of the Castiliaus, ib. Death of the emperor Maxi- milian, ib. View of the present state of Eu- rope, 111. How Maximilian was obstructed from securing the empire to him, ib. Francis I. aspires to the imperial crown, ib. Citcum- stances favourable to the pretensions of Charles, 112. The Swiss cantons espouse his cause, 113. Apprehensions and conduct of pope Leo X. on the occasion, ib. Assembling of the diet at Frankfort, 114. Frederic duke of Saxony refuses the offer of the empire, and votes for him, 114, 115. And refuses the presents offered by his ambassadors, 115. Concurring circum- stances which favoured his election, ib. ■ His election, 116. Signs and confirms the capitu- lation of the Germanic body, ib. The election notified to him, ib. Assumes the title of ma- jesty, ib. Accepts the imperial dignity offered by the count Palatine, ambassador from the elector, 117. The clergy of Castile refuse the tenth of benefices granted him by the pope, ib. Procures the interdict the kingdom is laid under for refusal to be taken off, ib. Empowers car- dinal Adrian to hold the Cortes of Valencia, 118. The nobles refuse to assemble without his presence, ib. Authorizes the insurgents there to continue in arms, ib. Summons the Cortes of Castile to meet in Galicia^ ib. Nar- rowly escapes with his Flemish ministers from an insurrection on that account, ib. Obtains a donative from the Cortes, 119. Prepares to leave Spain, and appoints regents, ib. Em- barks, ib. Motives of this journey, ib. Rise of the rivalship between him and Francis [., 119, 120. Courts the favour of Henry VIH. of England, and his minister cardinal Wolsey, 122, 123. Visits Henry at Dover, 123. Pro- mises Wolsey his interest for the papacy, ib. Has a second interview with Henry at Grave- lines, 124. Offers to submit his differences with Francis to Henry's arbitration, ib. His mag- nificent coronation at Aix-la-Chapelle, ib. Calls a diet at Worms, to check the reformers, ib. Causes which hindered his espousing the party of Martin Luther, 145. Grants Luther a safe conduct to the diet of Worms, ib. An edict published against him, 146. His embar- rassment at this time, ib. Concludes an alli- ance with the nope, 149. The conditions of the treaty, ib. Death of his minister Chievres, and its advantages to him, ib. Invasion of Navarre by Francis, 150. The French driven >"it, and their general I'F.sparre taken prisoner, ib. War declared against him by Robert de la Marck, lord of Bouillon, who ravasxts Lux- l •mhurg, lb. Reduces Bouillon, and invades France, 151. His demands at the congress at (Jalais, ib. Has an intcrciew with cardinal Wolsey at Bruges, and concludes u league with Henry Vlll. against Fiance, 152. Pope Leo declares lor him against France, 153, 154. The French driven out of Milan, i55. 157. Visits England in his passage to Spain, 158. Culti- vates the good will of i animal Wolsey, and creates the earl of Surry his high admiral, ib. Grants Hie island ot Malta to tue knights of St. John, expelied from Kliodes by Solyman the magnificent, 15u. Arrives in Spain, 160. A i etrospect ot his proceedings in relation to the insurrections in Spain, 163. Issues circulatory letters for the insurgents to lay down their arms, with promises ot' pardon, 164. His pru- dent moderation towards the insuigents, on his arrival in Spam, 174. Acquires the love of the Castilians, ib. Enters into a league with Charles duke of Bourbon, 177. Why he did not endeavour to get Wolsey elected pope, 179. Invades Guienne and Burgundy, but without success, 180. His troops in Milan mutiny for want of pay, but are pacified by Moronfi, 181. Undertakes "an invasion of Provence, 186. Orders Pescara to besiege Marseilles, 187. Pescara obliged to retire, ib. Disconcerted by the French overrunning the Milanese again, 189. The revenues of Naples mortgaged to raise money, ib. His troops defeat Francis, and take him prisoner at the battle of Pavia, 192. "His art'ected moderation at leceiving the news, 193. Ava'ls himself of a treaty con- cluded between Lannoy and pope Clement, but refuses to ratify it, 195. His army in Pavia mutiny, and are obliged to bo disbanded, ib. His deliberations on the proper improvement of his advantages, 196. His propositions to Francis, ib. After many delays grants Sforza the investiture of Milan, 197. Morone's in- trigues betrayed to him by Pescara, 199. Orders Pescara to continue his negotiations with Mo- rone, ib. His rigorous treatment of Francis, 200. Visits Francis, ib. His kind reception of the duke of Bourbon, 200, 201. Grants Bour- bon the dutchy of Milan, and appoints him general-in-chief of the army there, 201. Fruit- less negotiations for the delivery of Francis, ib. Treaty of Madrid with Francis, 202. Delivers up Francis, 204. Marries Isabella of Portugal, ib. An alliance formed against him at Cognac, 209. Sends ambassadors to Francis to require the fulfilment of the treaty of Madrid, 210. Prepares for war against Francis, 211. Tin; pope reduced to an accommodation with him, 213. The exhausted state of his finances, ib. His troops under Bourbon distressed and muti- nous for want of pay, ib. Bourbon assaults Rome and is slain, but the city taken, 217. The Prince of Orange, general on Bourbon's death, takes the castle of St. Angelo, and the pope prisoner, 218 The emperor's conduct on that occasion, 219. His dissensions with the popp, how far favourable to the reformation, 220. His instructions to the diet at Spires, ib. His manifesto against the pope, and letter to the cardinals, ib. France and England league against him, 220, 221. Is refused supplies by the Cortes of Castile, 223. Delivers the pope for a ransom, ib. His overtures to Henry ami Francis, 224. Their declaration of war against him, ib. Is challenged by Francis to single combat, 225. Andrew Doria revolts from Francis to him, 227. His forces defeat the French in Italy, 228, 229. His motives for de- siring an accommodation, 229. Concludes a separate treaty with the pope. 230. Ten. the peace of Cambray, concluded wi h Francis by the mediation of Margaret of Austria ami Louise of France, ib. Remarks on the advan- tases sained by him in this treaty, and on his conducl ofthewa-, 230,331. Visits Italy, 23:' Mis policy on his public entry into Barcelona, ib. Has mi interview with it-" popr p.t Bologna, ib 592 iiNDEX, Motives for his moderation in Italy, ib. His treaties with the states of, 334. Is crowned king of Lornbardy and emperor of the Romans, ih. Summons a diet at Spires to consider the state of religion, 235. His deliberations with the pope, respecting the expediency of i ailing a general council, 230. Appoints a diet at Augsburg, ib. Makes a public entry into that city, ib. His endeavours to cheek the reforma- tion, 237. Resolute behaviour of the protestant princes towards liirn, ib. His severe decree against the protestants, ib. Proposes iiis bro- ther Ferdinand to be elected king of the Ro- mans, 238. Is opposed by the protestants, 239. ( Ibtaisa his election, ib. Is desirous of an ac- commodation with the protestants, 240. Con- cludes a treaty with tliem at Nuremberg, ib. Raises an army to oppose the Turks under Solyman, and obliges him to retire, 240, 241. Has another interview with the pope, and presses him to call a general council, 241. Pro- cures a league of the Italian states to secure the peace of Italy, 242. Ariivts at Barcelona, ib. His endeavours to prevent the negotiations and meeting between the pope and Francis, ib. Undertakes to expel Barbarossa from Tunis, and restore Muley-Hascen, 255. Lands in Africa, and besieges Goletta, ib. Takes Go- letta, and seizes Barbarossa's fleet, 25b\ De- feats Barbarossa, and takes funis, ib. Restores M ii It •>• Hasten, and the treaty between them, &&T. Tiie glory acquired by tins enterprise, and the delivery of the Christian captives, 258. Seizes the dutchy of Milan, on the death of Francis Sforza, 262, 263. His policy with regard to it, ib. Prepares for war with Fran- ' is. ih. His invective against Francis at Rome before the pope in council, 264. Remarks on tliis transaction, 265. Invades France, 266. Enters Provence, and finds it desolated, 268. Besieges Marseilles and Aries, ib. His mise- rable retreat from Provence, 269. His invasion of Picardy defeated, 270. Is accused of poi- soning the dauphin, ib. Improbability of its truth, ib. Conjecture concerning the dauphin's death, ib. Flanders invaded by Francis, -71. A suspension of arms in Flanders, how nego- tiated, ib. A truce in Piedmont, ib. Motives to these truces, 272. Negotiation for peace with Francis, 273. Concludes a truce for ten years at Nice, ib. Remarks on the war, 273, 274. His interview with Francis, 274. Courts (lie friendship of Henry VIU. of England, 276, 277. indulges the protestant princes, 277. Uuiets their apprehensions of the catholic league, 279. His troops mutiny, ib. ' Assem- bles the Cortes of Castile, 280. Destroys the ancient constitution of the Cortes, ib. Instance of the haughty spirit of the Spanish grandees, B31, Desires permission of Francis to pass ihrough France to the Netherlands, 284. His reception in France, 285. His rigorous treat- ment of Ghent, 286. Refuses to fulfil his en- gagements to Francis, ib. Appoints a friendly t (inference between a deputation of catholic and protestant divines before the diet at Ratis- bon, 294. Result of this conference, 29.5. < ; rants a private exemption from oppressions to the protestants, 296. Undertakes to reduce Algiers, 298. Is near being cast away by a violent storm, 299. Lands near Algiers, 300. His soldiers exposed to a violent tempest and rain, ib. His fleet shattered, ib. His fortitude under these disasters, 301. Leaves his enter- prise and embarks again, 302. Is distressed with another storm at sea, ib. Takes advan- tage of the French invasion of Spain to obtain subsidies from the Cortes, 305. His treaty with Portugal, ib. Concludes a league with Henry VIU., 306. Particulars of the treaty, 307. Overruns Cleves, and his barbarous treatment •'!" the inveji tif Puren. .108. Hi* behaviour to the duke of Cleves, ib. Besieges Lanuicc> , 309. is joined by an English detachment, ib. Is forced to retire, ib. Courts the iavour of the protestants, 312. His negotiations with the protestants at the diet oi Spires, 313. Procures the concurrence of the diet in a war against Francis, ib. Negotiates a separate peace with the King of Denmark, 314. invades Cham- pagne, and invests St. Desiere, 316 Want of concert between his operations and those of Henry, who now invades Fiance, 317. Obtains Desiere by artifice, ib. His distresses and happy movements, 318. Concludes a separate petite with Francis, 319. His motives to ibis peace, ib. His advantages by this treaty, ib. Obliges himself by a private article to exterminate the protestant heresy, 320. Iscruelh afflicted with the gout, 321. Diet at Worms, 322. Arrives at Worms, and alters his conduct towards the protestants, 323 His conduct on the death of the duke of Orleans, 324. His dissimulation to the landgrave of Hesse, 325. Concludes a truce with Solyman, 333. Holds a diet at Ratisbon, ib. His declaration to the protestant deputies, 334. His treaty with the pope, con- cluded by the cardinal of Trent, 335. His cir- cular letter io the protestant members of the Germanic body, ib. The protestants levy an army against hiin, 338. Is unprepared against them, 339. Puts them under the ban of the empire, 340. The protestants declare war against him, ib. Marches to join the troops sent by the pope, 341. Farnese, the pope's legate, returns in disgust, 342. His prudent declension of an action with the protestants. 343. Is joined by his Flemish troops, 343, 344. Proposals of peace made by the protestants. 347. Their army disperse, 348. His rigorous treatment of the protestant princes, ib. Dis- misses part of his army, 350. The pope recalls his troops, ib. His reflection on Fiesco's in- surrection at Genoa, 356. Is alarmed at the hostile preparations of Francis, 358. Death of Francis, ib. A parallel drawn between him and Francis, 359. Consequences of Francis- (lecith to him, 360. Marches against the elector of Saxony, ib. Passes the Elbe, 361. Defeats the Saxon army, 363. Takes the elector pri soner, ib His harsh reception of liini, ih. In- vests Witlemberg, ib. Condemns the elector to death by a court-martial, 364. The elector by treaty surrenders the electorate, 365. The harsh terms imposed by him on the landgrave of Hesse, 367. His haughty reception of the landgrave, 368. Detains him prisoner, ib. Seizes the warlike stores of the Smalkaldic league, 370. His cruel exactions, ib. Assem- bles a diet at Augsburg, 372. Intimidates the diet by his Spanish troops, ib. Re-establishes the Romish worship in the churches of Augs- burg, ib. Seizes Placentia, 374. Orders the diet to petition the pope for the return of the council to Trent, 375. Protests against the council of Bologna, 376. Causes a system of faith to be prepared for Germany, ill. Lays it. before the diet, 377. The Inirrtm opposed, 378. And rejected by the imperial cities, 379. Re- duces the city of Augsburg to submission, 380. Repeats the same violence at Ulra, ib. Games the elector and landgrave with him into die Low-Countries, 38). Procures his son Philip to be recognised by the states of the Nether- lands, ib. Establishes the Interim there, 382. Reassembles the diet at Augsburg, tinder the influence of his Spanish troops, 385. The city of Magdeburg refuses to admit the Interim, and prepares for resistance, 388. Appoints Maurice elector of Saxony to reduce it, 389. Promises to protect the protestants at the coun- cil of Trent, ib. Arbitrarily releases Main I' and the elector of Brandenhiirgh front their engagements to the landgrei e for the recovery INDEX. b*\i ■>i his liberty, JiM. Endeavours to secure the empire tor his son Philip, lb. His brother Fer- dinand refuses to resign Iris pretensions, 393. Hesieges Parma, but is repulsed, 393. Proceeds rigorously against the protestants, 394. En- deavours to support the council of Trent, 395. Puts Magdeburg under the ban of the empire, ib. Absolves the city, 397. Is involved in disputes between the council and the protestant deputies, concerning their safe-conduct, 398. Begins to suspect Maurice of Saxony, 403. Circumstances which contributed to deceive him with regard to Maurice, ib. Maurice takes the field against bim, 404 Maurice seconded by Henry II. of France, 405. His distress and consternation, ib An ineffectual negotiation u ith Maurice, 406. Flies from Inspruck, 408. Releases the elector of Saxony, ib. Is solicited to satisfy the demands of Maurice, 411. His present difficulties, 412. Refuses any direct compliance with the demands of Maurice, 413. Is disposed to yield by the progress of Maurice's operations, ib. Makes a peace with Maurice at Passau, 414. Reflections on this treaty, 415. Turns his arms against France, 417. Lays siege to Metz, 418, 419. Is joined by Albert of Brandenburgh, 419. His army distressed by the vigilance of the duke of Guise, ib. Raises the siege, and retires in a shattered condition, 420. Cosmo di Medici asserts his independency against him, 421. Sienna revolts against him, ib. Is dejected at his bad success, 423. Takes Terouane, and demolishes it, 425, 426. Takes Hesden, 426. Proposes his son Philip as a hus- band to Mary queen of England, 431. The articles of the marriage, 432. Marches to op- pose the French operations, 435. Is defeated by Henry, ib. Invades Picardy, 436. Grants Sienna, subdued by Cosmo di Medici, to his son Philip, 439. A diet at Augsburg opened by Ferdinand, 443. Leaves the interior ad- ministration 'of Germany to Ferdinand, 444. Applies again to Ferdinand to resign his pre- tensions of succession to Philip, but is refused, ib. Recess of the diet of Augsburg on the subject of religion, 445. A treaty concluded between pope Paul IV. and Henry II. of France against him, 453. Resigns his hereditary do- minions to his son Philip, ib. His motives for retirement, 454. Had long meditated this re- signation, ib. The ceremony of this deed, 455. His speech on this occasion, ib. Resigns also the dominions of Spain, 457. His intended retirement into Spain retarded, ib. A truce for five years concluded with France, 458. Endeavours in vain to secure the imperial crown for Philip, 462. Resigns the imperial crown to Ferdinand, ib. Sets out for Spain, 463. His arrival and reception in Spain, ib. Is distressed by his son's ungrateful neglect in paying his pension, ib. Fixes his retreat in the monastery of St. Justus in Placentia, 464. The situation of this monastery, and his apart- ments, described, ib. Contrast between the conduct of Charles and the pope, ib. His man- ner of life in his retreat, 480, 481. His death precipitated by his monastic severities, 482. Celebrates his own funeral, ib. Dies, ib. His character, ib. A review of the state of Europe during his reign, 488. His acquisitions to the crown of Spain, 489, 490. Chateau- Cambresis, the conferences for peace between Philip II. of Spain and Henry II. of France, removed thither from Cercarap, 485. The peace retarded by the demand of Elizabeth of England for the restitution of Calais, ib. Particulars of the treaty signed there between England and France, 486. Terms of the paci- fication between Philip and Henry, 487. '>ficrr/rato1 nuncio from Uie pope to the diet at Nuremberg, his instructions, 183. Opposes The assembling a general council. 18*. Vol.. TT. — 7", Chiecres, William de Croy, lord of, appointed by Maximilian to superintend the education of his grandson Charles, 98. Adrian of Utrecht made preceptor under him, ib. His direction of the studies of Charles, 99. His avarice corrupts the Flemish court of Charles, 105. Negotiates a peace with France, 106. Endeavours to pre- vent an interview between Charles and Xi- menes, 107. Attends Charles to Spain, ib. His ascendancy over Charles, 109. His extor- tions, ib. His death, and the supposed causes of it, 149. Christians, primitive, why averse to the princi- ples of toleration, 446. Clement VII., pope, his election, i79. His cha- racter, ib. Grants cardinal Wolsey a legatinc commission in England for life, ib. Refuses to accede to the league against Francis, 181. La- bours to accommodate the difference between the contending parties, ib. His proceedings with regard to the reformers, 185. Concludes a treaty of neutrality with Francis, 190. En- ters into a separate treaty with Charles after the battle of Pavia, and the' consequences of it, 195. Joins in an alliance with Francis Sforza and the Venetians against the emperor, 209. Absolves Francis from his oath to observe the treaty of Madrid, ib. Cardinal Colonna seizes Rome, and invests him in the castle of St. Angelo, 212, 213. Is forced to an accom- modation with the imperialists, 213. His re- venge against the Colonna family, 214. In- vades Naples, ib. His territories Invaded by Bouibon, and his perplexity on the occasion, 215. Concludes a treaty with Lannoy viceroy of Naples, ib. His consternation on Bourbon's motions towards Rome, 216. Rome taken, and himself besieged in the castle of St. Angelo, 218. Surrenders himself prisoner, ib. The Florentines revolt against him, 221. Pays Charles a ransom for his liberty, with other stipulations, 223. Makes his escape from con- finement, 224. Writes a letter of thanks to Lautrec, ib. Is jealous of the intentions of Francis, and negotiates with Charles, 226. His motives and steps towards an accommo- dation, 230. Concludes a separate treaty with Charles, ib. His interview with the emperor at Bologna, 233. Crowns Charles king of Lom- bardy and emperor of the Romans, 234. His representations to the emperor against calling a general council, 236. Has another interview with Charles at Bologna, and the difficulties raised by him to the calling a general council, 241. Agrees to a league of the Italian states for the peace of Italy, 242. His interview and treaty with Francis, 243. Marries Catharine di Medici to the duke of Orleans, ib. His pro- traction of the affair of the divorce solicited by Henry VIII., 244 Reverses Cranmer's sen- tence of divorce, under penalty of excommu- nication, ib. Henry renounces his supremacy, ib. His death, 245. Reflections on Ms pontifi- cate, ib. Clergy, Romish, remarks on the immoral lives of, and how they contributed to the progress of the reformation, 136. The facility with which they obtained pardons, 137. Their usurpations in Germany, during the disputes concerning in- vestitures, 138. Their other opportunities of aggrandizing themselves there, ib. Their per- sonal immunities, ib. Their encroachments on the laity, 139. The dreadful effects of spiritual censures, ib. Their devices to secure their usurpations, ib. The united effect of all these circumstances, 141. Oppose the advancemen: of learning in Germany, 143. Cleves, invaded and overrun by the emperor Charles V.,308 Cruel treatment of Puren, ib. Humiliatinc submission of the duke, ib. Cnivperdoling, a leader of the anabaptists at Minister, Hn account of. 34& See J&nfiptit 694 1NDEA. Cognac, an alliance tortiied there against Charles V. by the pope, the Venetians, the duke of Milan, and Francis I., 209. Coligny, admiral, governor of Picardy, defends St. (Auintin against the Spanish general Ema- nuel Philihert duke of Savoy, 468. His brolhei Daudelot defeated in an endeavour to join the garrison, ib. But Daudelot enters the town, ib. His character, 470. The town taken by as- sault, and himself taken prisoner, ib Cologne, Ferdinand, king of Hungary and Bo- hemia, brother to the emperor Charles V., elected king of the Romans by the college of electors there, 239. , Herman, count de Wied, archbishop and elector of, inclines to the reformation, and is opposed by his canons, who appeal to the emperor and pope, 324. Is deprived and ex- communicated, 332. Resigns, 349. Coldnna, cardinal Pompeo, his character, and rivalship with pope Clement VII., 212. Seizes Rome, and invests St. Angelo, 212, 213. Is de- graded, and the rest of the family excommuni- cated by the pope, 214. Is prevailed on by the pope, when prisoner with the imperialists, to solicit his delivery, 223. — , Prosper, the Italian general, his charac- ter, 154. Appointed to command the troops in the invasion of Milan, ib. Drives the French out of Milan, 155. His army how weakened at the death of pope Leo X., ib. Defeats ma- reschal de Lautrec at Bicocca, 156, 157. Re- duces Genoa, 157. The bad state of his troops when the French invade Milan, 175. Is en- abled to defend the city by the ill conduct of Bonnivet the French commander, 178. Dies, and is succeeded by Lannoy, 181. Conchillos, an Arragonian gentleman, employed by Ferdinand of Arragon to obtain Joanna's consent to his regency of Castile, 92. Thrown into a dungeon by the archduke Philip, ib. Confession of Augsburg, drawn up by Melanc- thon, 237. Constance, the privileges of that city tafcen away by the emperor Charles V. for disobedience to the Interim, 380. Corsairs of Barbary, an account of the rise of, 252. See Algiers, Barbarossa. Cortes of Arragon, acknowledge the archduke Philip's title to the crown, 90. Not allowed to assemble in the name of Charles V., 109, 110. Their opposition to his desires, 110. Is pre- vailed on by the emperor to recognise his son Philip as successor to that kingdom, 306. See Spain. of Castile, acknowledges the archduke Philip's title to the crown, 90. Is prevailed on to acknowledge Ferdinand regent according to Isabella's will, 91 Acknowledges Philip and Joanna king and queen of Castile, and their son Charles prince of Asturias 95. Declares Charles king, and votes him a free gift, 98. Summoned by Charles to meet at Compostella in Galicia, 118. Turn ult uary proceedi ngs there- upon, 119. A donative voted, ib. Loses all its influence by the dissolution of the holy Junta, 172. Its backwardness to grant supplies for the emperor's wars in Italy, 213. Refuses his pressing solicitations for a supply, 223. Assem- bled at Toledo to grant supplies to the emperor, 280. The remonstrances of, ib. The ancient constitution of, subverted by Charles, ib. See Spain. of Valencia, prevailed on by the emperor Charles V. to acknowledge his son Philip suc- cessor to that kingdom, 306. See Spain. Cortona, cardinal di. governor of Florence for the pope, expelled 1 v the Florentines on the pope's captivity, 221. Cosmo di Medici." See Medici. Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, annuls the marriage of Henry VIII. with .Catharine of Arragon, which was refused to Henry by the pope, 244, His sentence reversed by the pope, i!i. Crcspy, peace of, between the emperor and Fran i is, 318, 319. Croy, William de, nephew to Chievres, made archbishop of Toledo by Charles V., 109. Dies, 172. D'Albrct, John, expelled from his kingdom of Navarre by Ferdinand of Arragon, 97. In- vades Navarre, but is defeated by cardinal Ximenes, 105. D'.ilembcrt, M., his observation on the order of Jfsiiits, 2il2, note. Dandelot. brother of Coligny, is defeated by the duke of Savoy in an endeavour to succour St. tAuintin, 468. But enters the town with the fugitives, ib. The town taken by assault, 471. Dauphin of France, eldest son of Francis I. is delivered up with the duke of Orleans to the emperor Charles V. in exchange for his father, as hostages for the performance of the treaty of Madrid, 204. His death imputed to poison, 270. The most probable cause of it, ib. , duke of Orleans, second son of Francis I. commands an army, and invades Spain, 305. Is forced to abandon the siege of Perpignan, ib. Is dissatisfied at the peace of Crespy, 321. Makes a secret protestation against it, ib. of France, son of Henry II., contracted to Mary the young queen of Scotland, 374. Is married to her, 477. Denmark, a summary view of the revolutions in, during the sixteenth century, 499. , king of, joins the protestant league at Smalkalde, 278. De Relz, cardinal, writes a history of Fiesco's conspiracy while a youth, 356, note. Diana of Poitiers, mistress to Henry II. of France, assists the Guises in persuading Henry to an alliance with pope Paul IV against the em- peror, 451. Induces Henry to break the treaty of Vaucclles, 460. Marries her granddaughter to one of Montmorency's sons. 480. Joins Montmorency against the Guises, ib. Doria, Andrew, assists Lautrec in subduing Ge- noa, 222. Conquers and kills Moncada in a sea engagement before the harbour of Naples, 226. His character, 227. Is disgusted with the be- haviour of the French, ib Revolts to the em- peror, ib. Opens to Naples a communication by sea, ib. Rescues Genoa from the French, 228. Restores the government of, to the citi- zens, ib. The respect paid to his memory, 229. Attends the emperor Charles in his disastrous expedi ion against Algiers, 299. His partial fondness for his kinsman Giannetino, 351. His narrow escape in Lavagno's insurrection, 354, 355. Returns on Lavagno's death, and (he dispersion of his party, 356. See Genoa and Lavagno. , Giannetino, his character, 351. Is mur- dered by Lavagno's conspirators, 354. Dover, an interview there between Henry VIII. and the emperor Charles V., 123. Drncrvt, a corsair, commands the Turkish fleet which ravages the coast of Naples, 422. Du Pratt, chancellor of France, his character, 177. Commences a law-suit against rharles duke of Bourbon for his estate, at the instlga tion of Louise the king's mother, ib. Dvrlling. the custom of, bow rendered general, 225 Its influence on manners, ib. Duren in Cleves, taken by the emperor Charles V , the inhabitants put to" the sword, and the town burnt, 308. Eccius, an adversary of Luther's, holds a public disputation with him at Leipsic; on the validity of the papal authority, J32. INDEX. o9i» Ecclesiastical censures 01' the Romish church, tlie dreadful effects of, 139. . reservation in the recess of the diet of Augsburg, remarks on, 2-10. Edinburgh plundered and burnt by the earl of Hertford, 317. Edward VI of England, his character, 431. Egmont, count of, commands the cavalry at the battle of St. Uuintin, and puts Montmorency's troops to flight, 468, 469. Engages marshal de Termes, and defeats him by the casual arrival of an English squadron, 478. Egypt, how and by whom added to the Ottoman empire, U2. Ehrenberg, the castle of, taken by Maurice of Saxony, 407. Eignotz, a faction in Geneva so termed, an ac- count of, 261. Elizabeth, sister of Mary, her accession to the crown of England, 484. Her character, ib. Is addressed by Philip of Spain and Henry of France for marriage, ib. Her prudent conduct between them, ib. How determined against Henry, 485. Her motives for rejecting Philip, ib. Returns Philip an evasive answer, ib. Demands restitution of Calais, at the confer- ences at Chateau-Cambresis, ib. Establishes the protestant religion in England, 486. Treaty between her and Henry signed at Chateau-Cam- bresis, ib. Emanuel Philibert, duke of Savoy. See Savtiy. England, by what means that kingdom was freed from the papal supremacy, and received the doctrines of the reformation, 244. Mary, queen of, married to prince Philip, son of the emperor Charles V., contrary to the sense of the nation, 432. The marriage ratified by parliament, 433. Is reluctantly engaged by Philip (now king of Spain) in the war against France, 467. Mary levies money by her prerogative, to carry on the war, ib. Calais taken by the duke of Guise, 475. Guisnes and Hames taken, ib. Death of Mary, and accession of Elizabeth, 484. The protestant religion established by Elizabeth, 486. Treaty with France signed at Chateau- Cambresis, ib. Its interior strength how in- creased by the conduct of Henry VIII., 493. Its power no longer fruitlessly wasted on the continent, ib. Alteration of its conduct towards Scotland, 494. l'.iiuuicn, the count de, besieges Carignan, 314. Desires of Francis permission to engage Guasto, 315. Defeats Guasto in a pitched battle, ib. Erard de la Marck, ambassador of Charles V. to the diet of Frankfort, his private motives for thwarting the pretensions of Francis I. of France to the imperial crown, 115. Signs tht capitulation of the Germanic body on behalf of Charles, 116. Erasmus, some account of, 143. Preceded Luther in his censures against the Romish church, ib. Concurs with him in his intentions of reforma- tion, 144. Motives which checked him in this, ib. Escurial, palace of, built by Philip II. in memory of the battle of St. Uuintin, 471. Europe, a short view of the state of, at the death of the emperor Maximilian, 110. The con- temporary monarchs of all, illustrious at the time of Charles V., 124. The method of car rying on war in, how improved beyond the practice of earlier ages, 180. The sentiments of, on Charles's treatment of the pope, 220 A review of the state of, during the reign of the emperor Charles V., 488. The remarkable change in, at this period, 489. How affected t>v the revolt of Luther against the church of Rome, 494. Eiitimi, kim.' of Algiers, engages BarbaroBsa in his service, and is murdered by him, 252, 253 E'xiommunitation in the Romish church, the ori- tfinal institution of, and the n* made of it, 139 Farnese, Alexander, his unanimous election to the papacy, 245. See Paul III. , cardinal, accompanies the troops sent by the pope to the emperor, against the army of the protestant league, 342. Returns disgusted, ib. Lends the troops home again by the pope's order, 350. Contributes to the election of car- dinal di Monte to the papacy, 384. -, Octavio, grandson of pope Paul HI., endeavours to surprise Parma, and enters into treaty with the emperor, 383. Is continued in Parma by Julius, 392. Procures an alliance witli France, ib. Is attacked by the imperial- ists, but successfully protected by the French, 393. Placentia restored to him by Philip II. of Spain, 472. , Peter Lewis, natural son of pope Paul III., obtains of his father the dutchies of Parma and Placentia, 325. His character, 373. Is assassinated, ib. Ferdinand, king of Arragon, how he acquired his kingdoms, 89. Invites his daughter Joanna, and her husband Philrp archduke of Austria, to Spain, 90. Becomes jealous of Philip, ib. Carries on his war with France vigorously, notwithstanding Philip's treaty with Lewis, 91. His queen Isabella dies, and leaves him regent of Castile, under restrictions, ib. Re- signs the kingdom of Castile, and is acknow- ledged regent by the Cortes, ib. His character, ib. His maxims of government odious to the Castilians, 92. Required by Philip to resign his regency, ib. Joanna's letter of consent procured by him, intercepted by Philip, and herself confined, ib. Is deserted by the Casti- lian nobility, ib. Determines to exclude bis daughter from the succession by marrying, 93. Marries Germaine de Foix, niece to Lewis XII. of France, ib. A treaty between him and Philip at Salamanca, by which the regency ot Castile is jointly vested in them and Joanna, ib. Prevails on Henry VII. of England to detain Philip for three months, when driven on that coast, 94. The Castilians declare agaiitst him, ib. Resigns the regency of Castile by treaty, ib. Interview between him and Philip, ib. Is absent, at Naples, when Philip died, 96. Re- turns and gains, with the regency of Castile, the good will of the natives by his prudent ad- ministration, ib. Acquires by dishonourable means the kingdom of Navarre, 97. How he destroyed his constitution, ib. Endeavours to diminish his grandson Charles's power, by a will in favour of Ferdinand, ib. Alters his wilt in favour of Charles, 98. Dies, ib. Review of his administration, 99 Ximenes appointed, by his will, regent of Castile until the arrival of Charles V., 100. , second son of Philip archduke of Austria, born, 89. Left regent of Arragon by his •grandfather Ferdinand, 97. This revoked by a subsequent will, by which lie obtains only a pension, 98. Discontented with his disap- pointment, lie is taken to Madrid under the eye of cardinal Ximenes, 101. Sent by Charles V. to visit their grandfather Maximilian, 109. Is elected king of Hungary and Bohemia, 219. Signs a deed called the Reverse, ib. The em- peror endeavours to get bim elected king of the Romans, 238. He is opposed by the protestant?, 239- Is crowned king of the Romans, ib. Forms a confederacy against the anabaptists at Minister, 249. Opposes the restoration of I'll ie duke of VVuitemberg, 250. Recognises bin title, ami concludes a treaty with him, ib. His kingdom of Hungary wrested from him by John Znpol Bcaepius, 296. Besieges the young king Stephen and his mother in Buda, but is de- feated by the Turks, 297. His mean offers ot' submission to the porte, 398. Which are re- jected, ib. < 'onrts the favour of the protestanfs, 3H . < ►pens the diet at WOWO, 322. Reunite* j«b ifst>EA. it to submit u> the decisions of the council of Trent, 323. Agrees to pay a tribute to Solyman lor Hungary, ib. £ncroacbes on tbe liberties of Bobemia, 371. His rigorous treatment of Prague, ib. Disarms the Bohemians, 372. Ob- tains tbe sovereignty of the city of Constance, 382. Invades Transylvania by invitation of Martinuzzi, 399. Obtains the resignation of Transylvania from queen Isabella, ib. Orders Martinuzzi to be assassinated, 400. Enters into negotiation with Maurice on behalf of the em- peror, 411. His motives for promoting the emperor's agreeing with Maurice, 412, 413. Isabella and her son Stephen recover possession of Transylvania, 427. Opens a diet at Augs- burg, and excites suspicions in the protestants, 443. The emperor leaves the internal admin- istration of the German atfairs to him, 444. Is again applied to by the emperor to resign his pretensions of succession to Philip, but refuses, ib. Endeavours therefore to gain the friend- ship of the diet, 445. Again refuses the em- peror's solicitations, 462. Charles resigns the imperial crown to him, ib. Assembles the col- lege of electors at Frankfort, which acknow- ledges him emperor of Germany, 476. The pope refuses to acknowledge him, 476, 477. Feudal government, a view of, as it existed in Spain, 162. Piesco, count of Lavagno. See Lavagno. , Jerome, engages in his brother's conspi- racy, and fails in securing Andrew Doria, 354, 3.55. His imprudent vanity on his brother's death, 355. Shuts himself up in a fort on his estate, 356. Is reduced, and put to death, 358. Flanders. See Netherlands. Florence, the inhabitants of, revolt against pope Clement VII. on the news of his captivity, and recover their liberty, 221. Are reduced to sub- jection to Alexander di Medici by the emperor, 234. Alexander di Medici, duke of, assassinated by his kinsman Lorenzo, 275. Cosmo di M edici advanced to the aoverignty, ib. Cosmo, sup- ported by the emperor, defeats the partisans of Lorenzo, 276. Cosmo asserts his independency on the emperor, 421. Funseca, Antonio de, commander-in-chief of the forces in Spain, ordered by cardinal Adrian to besiege the insurgents in Segovia, 161. Is de- nied liberty of taking military stores by the inhabitants* of Medina del Campo, ib. Attacks and almost burns the whole town, ib. Is re- pulsed, ib.. His house at Valladolid burnt, ib. France, the acquisitions of that kingdom during the reign of tbe emperor Charles V., 491. The character of the people of, ib. The good con- sequences of the civil wars in that kingdom to the rest of Europe, 492. Francis I., king of France, concludes a peace with Charles V., and the conditions of the treaty, 106. Sends a fruitless embassy to Charles for the restitution of Navarre to the young king, 110. Aspires to the imperial crown at the death of Maximilian, 111. Rea- sons by which he supported his pretensions, 112. Remarks on the equipages of his ambas- sadors to the German states, ib. His preten- sions adopted by the Venetians, 113. Loses the election, 116. Rise of the rivalship be- tween him and Charles, 120. Courts the fa- vour of cardinal Wolsey, 122. Promises Wol- sey his interest for the papacy, 123. Has an interview with Henry Vin. of England, ib. Wrestles with Henry, and throws him, ib. note. His advantages over Charles at the commence- ment of hostilities between them, 147. Con- cludes an alliance with the pope, 148. Invades and reduces Navarre, in the name of Henry d'Albret, son of John, the former king, 150. 'Die French driven out by the imprudence of 1' Esparre their general, who is taken prisoner by the. Spaniards, ib. Rotafces Mouson from the imperialists, 151. Invades the Low-Cowt- tries, but loses the opportunities of guece«s by imprudence, ib. Rejects the demands of Charles at the congress of Calais, 152. A league concluded between Charles and Henry \ 1 1 1 . against him, ib. His imprudent appoint- ment of the mareschal De Foix to the govern- ment of Milan, 153. De Foix attacks Reggio, but is repulsed by the governor Guicciardini the historian, ib. The pope declares against him, 153, 154. His embarrassments on the invasion of Milan, 154. His mother seizes the money appointed for the payment of the Milanese troops, ib. Milan taken, and the French driven out, 155. Levies a body of Swiss, 156. Who insist on giving a precipitate battle to the imperialists, which is lost, 157. War declared against him by Henry VIII., ib. His expedients to supply his treasury, 158. The plan pursued by him to resist the incur- sions of the English, ib. Picardy invaded by Henry, ib. The Venetians league with the emperor against him, 175. To which pope Adrian accedes, ib. His expeditious move- ment against the Milanese, 176. Disconcerted by the duke of Bourbon's conspiracy, ib. Taxes him with betraying his cause, which Bourbon denies, 178. Bourbon escapes to Italy, and Francis returns, ib. Appoints the admiral Bonnivet to command against the Milanese, ib. Picardy invaded by the duke of Suffolk, who is driven back, 180. Repulses the invasion of Guienue and Burgundy by Charles, ib. His successful close of the cam- paign, ih. His prudent care to disappoint the imperialists in their invasion of Provence, 187. Assembles an army, which causes the impe- rialists to retire from Marseilles, ib. Deter- mines to invade the Milanese, 188. Appoints his mother Louise regent during his absence,, ib. Enters Milan, and takes possession of the city, ib. Advised by Bonnivet to besiege Pavia, 189. His vigorous attacks on Pavia, ib. Con- cludes a treaty of neutrality with pope Cle- ment, 190. His imprudent invasion of Naples, ib. Resolves, by Bonnivet's advice, to attack Bourbon's army, advanced to the relief of Pavia, 191. Is rained at the battle of Pavia, 192. Is taken prisoner, ib. Is sent to the castle of Pizzichitone under the custody of Don Ferdinand Alaroon, 193. Refuses the proposi- tions made to him by Charles, 196. Is carried to Spain on his desire of a personal interview with Charles, 197. Is rigore... . treated in Spain, 200. Falls dangerously ill, ib. Is visited by Charles, ib. Resolves to resign his king- dom, 201. Is delivered from his captivity by the treaty of Madrid, 202. His secret protesta- tions against the validity of this treaty, 203. Marries the queen of Portugal, ib. Recovers his liberty, and the dauphin and the duke of Orleans delivered up hostages to Charles for the performance of the treaty of Madrid, 204. Writes a letter of acknowledgment to Henry VIII. of England, 208. His reply to the impe- rial ambassadors, 209. Enters into a league with the pope, the Venetians, and Sforza, against Charles, ib. Is absolved from his oath to observe the treaty of Madrid, 210. His be- haviour to the emperor's second embassy, ib. Is dispirited by his former ill success, 211. En- ters into a treaty with Henry VIII. of England against the emperor, 221. Successes of his general Lautrec in Italy, 222. His reply to the emperor's overtures, 224. Declares war against him, and challenges him to single combat, 224, 225. Treats Andrew Doria ill, who revolts from him to the emperor, 227. His army, under Snluces, driven out of Italy, 228. His troops in Milan routed, 229. His endeavours towards an accommodation, ib. Terms of the .*.' Carnbray, concluded by the mediation INDEX. 597 of his mother LouUe and Margaret of Austria, 230. Remarks on Uie sacrifices made by him in this treaty, and on iiis conduct of the war, 231. Leagues secretly with ttie protestant princes, 239. His measures to elude the treaty of Oambray, 242, 243. His negotiations witli the pope, 243. His interview and treaty witii the pope, lb. Gives the duke of Orleans in marriage to Catharine di Medici, ib. Nego- tiates a ireaiy wiin Francis Sforza, duke of Mi;au, 258. His envoy Merveiile executed at Miiau ior .nurde., 25J. is disappointed in ins endeavours to negotiate alliances against the emperor, ib. Invites Melancthon to Paris, ib. Evidences of his zeal for the Romish religion, 260. Causes of his quarrel with the duke of Savoy, 261. Seizes the duke's territories, ib. His pretensions to the dutchy of Milan, on the death of Francis Sforza, 263. The emperor's invective against him before the pope in coun- cil, 264. Is invaded by Charles, 266. His prudent plan of defence, 26". Joins the army under Montmorency, 269. Death of the dau- phin, 270. Obtains a decree of the parliament of Paris against the emperor, 271. Invades the Low-Countries, ib. A suspension of arms in Flanders, and how negotiated, ib. A truce in Piedmont, ib. Motives to these truces, 272. Concludes an alliance with Solyman the Mag- nificent, ib. Negotiations for a peace with the emperor, 273. Concludes a truce for ten years at Nice, ib. Reflections on the war, 273, 274. His interview with Charles, 274. Marries Mary of Guise to James V. of Scotland, 276. Re- fuses the offers of the deputies of Ghent, 283. Informs Charles of the offer made by them, ib. Grants the emperor leave to pass through France to the Netherlands, 284. His reception of the emperor, ib. Is deceived by the empe- sor in respect to Milan, 285. His ambassador to the Porte, Rincon, murdered by the imperial governor of the Milanese, 303. Prepares to resent the injury, ib. Attacks the emperor with five armies, 304. His first attempts ren- dered abortive by the imprudence of the duke of Orleans, ib. Renews his negotiations with sultan Solyman, 307. Invades the Low-Coun- tries, 308. Forces the emperor to raise the siege of Landrecy, 309. Dismisses Barba- lossa, 314. Gives the count d'Enguien per- mission to engage Guasto, 315. Relieves Paris, in danger of being surprised by the emperor, 318. Agrees to a separate peace with Charles, 318, 319. Henry's haughty return to his over- tures of peace, 320. Death of the duke of Orleans, 324. Peace of Campe, 338. Per- ceives a necessity of checking the emperor's ambitious designs, 357. Forms a general league against him, ib. Dies, 358. His life and cha- racter summarily compared with those of Charles, 359. Consequences of his death, 360. Francis II., his accession to the crown of Fiance and character, 488. Frankfort, the diet of, assembled for the choice of an emperor at the death of Maximilian, 114. •Names and views of the electors, ib. The empire offered to Frederick of Saxony, ib. Who rejects it, with his reasons, 114, 115. Chooses Charles V. emperor, 116. His con- firmation of the Germanic privileges required and agreed to, ib. City of, embraces the re- formed religion, 183. The college of electors assembled there by Ferdinand, who is acknow- ledged emperor of Germany, 476. Frederick, duke of Saxony, assembles with the other electors at the diet of Frankfort, to choose an emperor, 114. The empire offered to him, ib. Rejects it, and votes for Charles V., 114, 115. Refuses the presents of the Spa- nish ambassadors. 115. This disinterested be- haviour confirmed by the testimony of histo- rians, lb. noie. Ch«o<*»R Martin Luther philo- sophical professor at his university of Wittem- berg, 127. Encourages Luther in his opposi- tion to indulgences, 128. Protects liiniagamst L'ajetan, 130. Causes Luther to be seized at. his return from the diet of Worms, and con- ceals him at Wartburg, 146. Dies, 208. Fregoso, the French ambassador to Venice, murdered by the marquis del Guasto, the im- perial governor of the Milanese, 303. Fmnsperg, George, a German nobleman, some account of, he joins the army of Charles V., 213. General of the Jesuits, an inquiry into his office and despotic authority, 288, 289. Geneva, an account of its revolt against the duke of Savoy, 261. denoa, reduced by Lautrec, the French general, 222. The French endeavour to prejudice its trade in favour of Savona, 227. Is rescued from the French by Andrew Doria, 228. The government of, settled by the disinterestedness of Doria, 229. The honour paid to Doria's memory, ib. Is visited by the emperor, 233. A scheme formed to overturn the constitution of, by Fiesco count of Lavagno, 351. He as- sembles his adherents, 352. The conspirators sally forth from Lavagno's palace, 354. De- puties sent to know Lavagno's terms, 355. Lavagno drowned, ib. The insurrection ruined by the imprudence of his brother Jerome Fies- co, ib. The conspirators disperse, ib. Jerome reduced and put to death, 358. Oermanada, an association in Valencia so termed, on what occasion formed, 172. Refuse to lay down their arms, ib. Their resentment levelled at the nobility, who raise an army against them, 172, 173 Defeat the nobles in several actions, 173. But are routed and dispersed by them, ib. Germany, state of, at the death of the emperor Maximilian, 111. Charles V. of Spain and Francis I. of France form pretensions to the imperial crown, ib. Their respective reasons offered in favour of their claims, ib. Views and interests of the other European states in relation to the competitors, 113. Henry VHI. of England advances a claim, ib. But is dis- couraged from prosecuting it, ib. How the papacy was likely to be affected in the choice of an emperor, ib. Advice of pope Leo X. to the German princes, 114. Opening of the diet at Frankfort, ib. In whom the election of an emperor is vested, ib. Views of the electors, ib. The empire offered to Frederick of Saxon}', ib. Who rejects it, and his reasons, 114, 115. Charles V. choser, 116. The capitulation of the Germanic privileges confirmed by him, ib. Charles sets out for, 119. Charles crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle, 124. Commencement of the reformation there, by Martin Luther, ib. Treat- men* of the bull of excommunication published against Luther, 133. The usurpations of the clergy there, during the disputes concerning investitures, 138. The clergy of, mostly fo- reigners, 140. The benefices of, nominated by the pope, ib. The expedient of the emperors for restraining this power of the pope ineffec- tual, ib. The great progress of Luther's doc- trines in, 182. Grievances of the peasants, 204. Insurrection in Suabia, 205. The memorial of their grievances, ib. The insurrection quelled, 206. Another insurrection in Thuringia, ib. How the house of Austria became so formi- dable in, 219. Proceedings relating to the re- formation there, 220. Great progress of the reformation there, 235. Ferdinand, king of Hungary and Bohemia, brother to Charles V. elected king of the Romans. 238. The pro- testant religion established in Saxony, 279. The protestant religion established in the Pala- tinate. 32«. Th* league ofSmalkalilc. raise 698 INDEX. an army against the emperor, 338. Are put under the ban of the empire, 340. The pro- trstant army dispersed, 348. Tlie Interim en- forced by tlie emperor, 380. Maurice of Saxony /aises an army, and declares in favour of tile protestants, 4114, 405. Maurice favoured even by the catholic princes, and why, 411. Treaty of Passau, between the emperor and Maurice of Saxony, 414. Truce between tlie emperor and Henry of France, 458. diaries resigns the imperial crown to his brother Ferdinand, 462. Ghent, an insurrection there, 281. The preten- sions of the citizens, 282. Form a confederacy against the queen dowager of Hungary their governess, ib. Their deputies to the emperor, how treated by him, ib. Otter to submit to France, 283. Is reduced by Charles, 286. Ghibelline faction in Italy, a view of, 212. Giron, Don Pedro de, appointed to the command of the army of the holy Junta, 167. Resigns his commission, and Padilla replaced, 168. Goletta in Africa, taken by the emperor Charles V., 256. Gonzago, the imperial governor of Milan, pro- cures cardinal Farnese to be assassinated, and lakes possession of Placentia for the emperor, 373, 374. Prepares to seize Parma, 392. Is repulsed by the French, 393. Goitjjier, sent by Francis I. king of France to negotiate a peace with Charles V., 106. G ranvelle, cardinal, his artifice to prevail on the count de Sancerre to surrender St. Disiere to the emperor, 317. Endeavours to lull the pro- testants into security with regard to the em- peror's conduct towards them, 329. Is com- missioned by Philip to address the assembly at the emperor's resignation of his hereditary dominions, 456. Gravclines, an interview there between the em- peror Charles V. and Henry VIII. of England, 124. Oropper, canon of Cologne, is appointed a mana- ger of the protestant and catholic conferences before the diet at Ratisbon, 294. Writes a treatise to compose the differences between them, ib. The sentiments of both parties on this work, 295. Granada, archbishop of, president of the council of Castile, his imprudent advice to cardinal Adrian, relating to the insurrection in Segovia, 161. Guasto, the" marquis del, appointed governor of Milan by the emperor, 269. Procures Rincon, the French ambassador to the Porte, to be murdered on his journey thither, 303. Defends Carignan against the French, 314. Defeated by d'Enguien in a pitched battle, 315. Quicciardini, his account of the publication of indulgences contradicted, 128, note. Defends Reggio against the French, 153. Repulses an attack upon Parma by the French, 156. His sentiments of the pope's treaty with Lannoy viceroy of Naples, 215, 216. Guise, Francis of Lorrain, duke of, is made go- vernor of Metz by Henry II. of France, 417, 418. His character, 418. Prepares to defend it against tlie emperor, ib. His brother d'Au- male taken prisoner by tiie imperialists, 419. The emperor raises the siege, 420. His humane treatment of the distressed and sick Germans left behind, 421. Persuades Henry to an alli- ance with pope Paul IV., 451. Marches with troops into Italy, 464, 465. Is unable to effect any thing, 466. Is recalled from Italy after the defeat of St. Quintin, 471. His reception in France, 474. Takes the field against Philip, ib. Invests and lakes Calais from the English, 475. Takes also Guisnes and Hames, ib. Takes Thionville in Luxembourg, 477. , Mary of, married to James V. of Scot- land, 276. Frustrates the intended marriage between her daughter Mary and prince Edward of England, 314. G"rk, cardinal de, why he favoured the election of Charles V. to the imperial crown, 115. Signs the capitulation of the Germanic body on behalf of Charles, 116. Gasman, chancellor to the emperor Ferdinand, is sent to pope Paul IV. to notify the election, who refuses to see him, 476. Hamburg, city of, embraces the reformed reli- gion, 183. Haru, tlie Conde de, appointed to command the army of the Castilian nobles against the holy Junta, 167. Attacks TordesiUas, and gets pos- session of queen Joanna, ib. Routs the army of the Junta, and takes Padilla prisoner, who is executed, 170. Hascen Jiga, deputy-governor of Algiers, his piracies against the Christian states, 299. Is besieged in Algiers by the emperor Charles V., 300. Makes a successful sally, ib. The em- peror forced by bad weather to return back, again, 301. Hayradin, a potter's son of Lesbos, commences pirate, 252. See Barbarossa. Heathens, ancient, why the principles of mutual toleration were generally admitted among them, 446. Heldu, vice-chancellor to Charles V., attends the pope's nuncio to Smalkalde, 277. Forms a catholic league in opposition to the protestant one, 278. Henry II., king of France, his motives for de dining an alliance with pope Paul III. against the emperor, 374. Procures for Scotland a peace witli England, 393. The young queen Mary contracted to the dauphin, and sent to France for education, ib. Enters into an alli- ance with Octavio Farnese, duke of Parma, ib. Protest against the council of Trent, 394. Makes alliance with Maurice, elector of Sax- ony, 401. Seconds the operations of Maurice, 405. His army marches and seizes Metz, 406. Attempts to surprise Strasburg, 409, 410. la strongly solicited to spare it, 410. Returns, ib. The emperor prepares for war against him, 417. Insticales the Turks to invade Naples, 422. Terouanne taken and demolished by Charles, 425, 426. Hesden taken, 426. Leads an army into the Low-Countries against Charles, ib. Endeavours to obstruct the mar- riage of Mary of England with Philip of Spain, 434. The progress of his arms against the emperor, 435. Engages Charles, ib. Retires, ib. Cosmo dj Medici, duke of Florence, makes war against him, 436. Appoints Peter Strozzi commander of his army in Italy, 437. Strozzi defeated, 438. Sienna taken, 439. Pope Paul IV. makes overtures to an alliance with him against the emperor, 451. Montmorency's ar- guments aiaiust this alliance, ib. Is persuaded by the Guises to accept it, ib. Sends the car- dinal of Lorrain with powers to conclude it, 452. The pope signs the treaty, 453. A truce for five years concluded with the emperor, 458. Is exhorted by cardinal Caraffa to break the truce, 459. Is absolved from his oath, and concludes a new treaty with the pope, 460. Sends the duke of Guise into Italy, 465. The constable Montmorency de'eated and taken prisoner at St. Uuintin, 469. Henry prepares for the defence of Paris, ib. St. Quinfm taken by assault, 470. Collects his troops, and nego- tiates for assistance, 470, 471. His kind recep- tion of the duke of Guise, 474. Calais raken by Guise, 475. Empowers Montmorency to negotiate a peace with Philip, 480. Honours him highly on his return to France, ib. Writes to queen Elizabeth with proposals of marriage, 484. How he failed in his suit, ib. Terms of the treat v of Chateau Camhresis, 486, 487 INDEX. 599 Sits daughter married to Philip, and his sisler 10 the duke 01 Savoy, 487. The marriage ot his sister and daughter celebrated with great pomp, 488. His death, ib. Henry VII. ol England, detains the archduke Philip and his duchess, when driven on his coast, three months, at the instigation ot Fer- dinand, 94. VIII. ol England, sends an ambassador to Germany to propose fits ciatins to the impe- rial crown, 113. Is discouraged from his pre- tensions, and takes no part with the other coin- petiiois, ib. Uib personal character and political influence in Europe, 121. Entirely guidod by cardinal Wolsey, 122. Receives a visit from fhe emperoi diaries V., 123. Goes over to France to visit Francis, ib. Wrestles with Francis, and is thrown by him, ib. note. Has another interview with Charles at Gravelines, J24. Charles otters to submit his dirt'erences with Francis to his arbitration, ib. Publishes « treatise on the Seven Sacraments, against Martin Luther, 147. Obtains of the pope the title of Defender of the. Faith, ib. Takes part with Charles against Francis, ib. Sends Wol- sey to negotiate an accommodation between the emperor and Francis, 151. Concludes a league with Charles against Francis, 152. His avowed reasons for this treaty, ib. His private motives, ib. Declares war against Francis, 157. Is visited by • harles, ib. Makes descents upon the coast of France, 158. Advances with an army into Picardy, ib. Obliged to retire by the duke de Vendome, ib. Enters into a treaty with the emperor and Charles duke of Bourbon, 177. How he raised supplies for his wars beyond the giants of his parliament, 180. Sends the duke of Suffolk to invade Picardy, who penetrates almost to Paris, but is driven back, ib. Engages to assist Charles in an in- vasion of Provence, 187. Causes of his not supporting the imperialists, 187, 188. Effects of the battle of Pavia and captivity of Francis on him, 194. Particulars of his embassy to Charles, 194, 195. Concludes a defensive alli- ance with France, 197. Is declared protector of the league of Cognac against the emperor, 209. His motives for assisting the pope against the emperor, 221. Enters into a league with Francis, and renounces the English claim to the crown of France, ib. Declares war against the emperor, 224. Concludes a truce with the governess of the Low-Countries, 226. Projects his divorce from Catharine of Arragon, 232. Motives which withheld the pope from grant- ing ii, ib. Acquiesces in the peace of Cambray, 233. Sends a supply of money to the pi otestant league in Germany, 240. Procures his mar- riage to be annulled by Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, 244. The divorce reversed by the pope under penally of excommunication, ib. Renounces the papal supremacy, ib. Re- fuses to acknowledge any council called by the pope, 251. Opposes James V. of Scotland marrying Mary of Guise, 276. His disgusts With Francis, and intercourse with the em- peror, 276, 277. Concludes a league with Charles, 306. Makes war with Scotland, 307. Particulars of his treaty with Charles, ib. Invades France, and invests Boulogne, 317. Refuses the emperor's plan of operations, 318. Is deserted by the emperor, ib. Takes Bou- logne, 320. His haughty proposals to France, ib. Peace of Campe, 338. Is succeeded by his son Edward VI., 357. A review of his policy, 493. Hertford, earl of, plunders and burns Edinburgh. 317. Joins Henry after, in his invasions of France, ib. Hesse, the landgrave of, procures the restoration of his kinsman, Ulric duke of Wurtembiirg, 250. Hi* views compared with tho«e of the elector of Saxony, 328. The emperor's de- ceitful professions to him, 331. Uuiets th apprehensions ot the protestant league with regard to the emperor, ib. Is appointed joint commander of the army of the league with the elector of Saxony, 341. Their characters compared, ib. Urges an attack of the empe- ror, but is opposed by the elector, 343. His letter to Maurice duke ol Saxony, 346. The army of the league disperse, 348. Is reduced to accept harsh terms from Charles, 367. His humiliating reception by the emperor, 368. Is detained in confinement, 369. His offers of submission slighted by the emperor, 379. Is carried by the emperor with him into the Ne- therlands, 381. Renews his endeavours for liberty, 389. Charles releases arbitrarily the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice from their engagements to him, 390. Is closely confined in the citadel of Mechlin, ib. Obtains his liberty by the treaty of Passau, 414. Is arrested by the queen of Hungary, but freed by the emperor, 416. The effects of his confinement on him, ib. Heuterus, his account of Lewis XII. shown to contradict the relations given by Bellay, and other French historians, of the education of Charles V., 98, note. Holy Junta. See Junta. Holy League, against the emperor Charles V., formed at Cognac, under the protection of Henry VIII. of England, 209. Home, a potter's son of Lesbos, commences pirate with his brother Hayradin, 252. See Barbarossa. Hungary, is invaded by Solyman the Magnificent, and its king Lewis II. killed, 219. His suc- cesses, and the number of prisoners carried away, ib. The archduke Ferdinand elected king of, together with Bohemia, ib. John Zapol Sciepius wrests it from Ferdinand, 290. Stephen succeeds on the death of his father John, 297. Is treacherously seized by Solyman, 298. See Isabella and Martinuzii. James V. of Scotland, levies troops to assist Francis in Provence, but his intention frus- trated, 276. His negotiations for marriage; with Francis's daughter, ib. Marries Mary of Guise, ib. Dies, and leaves Mary his infant daughter to succeed him, 307. See Mary. Jesuits, the order of, by whom founded, 150. Character of that order, ib. Character of Ignatio Loyola, their founder, 287. The order confirmed by the pope, 288. An examination into the constitution of the order, ib. Office and power of their general, 288, 289. The rapid progress of the order, 290. Engage in trade, and establish an empire in South Ame- rica, ib. Bad tendency of the order, 291. Are responsible for most of the pernicious effects of popery since their institution, ib. Advan- tages resulting from their institution, ib. Ci- vilize the natives of Paraguay, 292. Their precautions for the independency of their em- pire there, 293. How the particulars of their government and institution came to be dis- closed, ib. Summary of their character, 294. Indulgences, in the Romish church, the doctrine of, explained, 125. By whom first invented, ib. Martin Luther preaches against them, 127. Writes against them to Albert elector of Mentz, ib. A bull issued in favour of, 131. The sale of, opposed in Switzerland by Zuinglius, 132. Infantado, duke of, his haughty resentment of a casual blow on his horse, 281. Is protected by the constable of Castile, ib. Iinmii nt, a young domestic of cardinal di Monte, obtains his cardinal's hat on his election to the papacy, 384. hi i en in, a system of theology so called, prepared bv order of the emneror Charles V. for the use mo INDEX. of Germany, 377. Is disapproved of, both by protectants and papists, 378. Investitures, usurpations of the Romish clergy in Germany, during the disputes between the emperors and popes, concerning, 138. Joanna, daughter of Ferdinand, and mother of Charles V., visits Spain with her husband Philip archduke of Austria, 90. Is slighted by her husband, ib. Her character, ib. Is abruptly left in Spain by her husband, ib. Sinks into melancholy on the occasion, and is delivered of her second son Ferdinand, ib. Her letter of consent to her father's regency of Castile intercepted, and herself confined, 92. Made joint regent of Castile with Ferdinand and Philip, by the treaty of Salamanca, 93. Sets out for Spain with Philip, are driven on the coast of England, and detained three months by Henry VII., 94. Acknowledged queen by the Cortes, 95. Her tenderness to her husband in his sickness, and extraordinary attachment to his body when dead, ib. Is in- capable of government, ib. Her son Charles assumes the crown, 101. The Cortes acknow- ledge her son king, with a reservation in her favour, 108. Her reception of Padilla, the chief of the Spanish malecontents, 163. The holy Junta removed to Tordesillas, the place of her residence, ib. Relapses into her former melancholy, ib. The proceedings of the holy Junta carried on in her name, ib. Is seized by the Conde de Haro, 167. Dies after near fifty years' confinement, 454, 455. John Zapol Scspius, by the assistance of sultan Solyma'n, establishes himself in the kingdom of Hungary, 296. Leaves the kingdom to his son Stephen, 297. See Hungary, Isabella, gnd Martinuzzi. Isabella, daughter of John II. of Castile, and wife of Ferdinand king of Arragon, her his- tory, 89. Her concern at the archduke Philip's treatment of her daughter Joanna, 90. Her death and character, ib. Appoints Ferdinand regent of Castile, under restrictions, 91. , daughter to-Sigismund king ofPoland, married to John king of Hungary, 296. Her character, 297. Is treacherously carried, with her infant son, into Transylvania by sultan Solyman, 298. The government of this pro- vince and the education of her son committed to her jointly with Martinuzzi, 398. Is jealous of Mnrtinuzzi's influence, and courts the Turks, ib. Is prevailed on to resign Transyl- vania to Ferdinand, 399. Retires to Silesia, ib. Recovers possession of Transylvania, 427. of Portugal, married to the emperor Charles V., 204. Italy, consequences of the league between pope Leo X. and the emperor Charles V to, 153. The characters of the Italians, Spaniards, and French contrasted, ib. State of, at the acces- sion of Clement VII. to the papacy, 181. Views of the Italian States with respect to the em- peror and Francis on the expulsion of the French from Genoa and the Milanese, 186. Their apprehensions on the battle of Pavia and captivity of Francis, 195. The principal states join in the holy league against the em- peror, 209. Are disgusted at the tardiness of Francis, 212. A view of the Ghibelline fac- tion, ib. Sentiments of the states of, on the peace of Cambray, 231. Is visited by the em- peror Charles, 233. The motives of his mo- deration towards the states of, 233, 234. A league among the states of, formed by Charles, 242. Placenlia granted to Octavio Farnese by Philip II. of Spain, 472. The investiture of Sienna given by PhiliptoCosmo di Medici, 473. The consequence of these grants, ib. Junta, holy, a view of the confederacy in Spain so termed, 162, 163. The authority of Adrian disclaimed by, 163. Removed to Tordesillas, where queen Joanna resided, ib. Their pro- ceedings carried on in the name of Joanna, ib. Receives letters from Charles to lay down their arms, with promises of pardon, 164. Remon- strances or grievances drawn up by, ib. The particulars of this remonstrance, 164, 165. Remarks on the spirit of it, 166. Are intimi- dated from presenting it to Charles, ib. Pro- pose to deprive Charles of his royalty during the life of Joanna, ib. Take the field, 167. Character of their army, ib. The queen seized by the Conde de Haro, ib. How they obtained money to support their army, 168. Lose time in negotiating with the nobles, 168, 169. Pro- pose to make their peace with Charles at the expense of the nobles, 169. Their irresolute conduct, ib. Their army defeated by Haro, and Padilla taken prisoner, 170. Padilla exe- cuted, ib. His letters to his wife, and the city of Toledo, 170, 171, note. The ruin of the confederacy, 172. Julius H., pope, observations on the Dontificatc of, 136. III., pope, his character, 384. Bestows his cardinal's hat infamously, ib. Is averse to the calling a council, 385. Summons one at Trent, ib. Asserts his supreme authority peremptorily in the bull for it, 389. Repents confirming Octavio Farnese in Parma, 392. Requires Octavio to relinquish his alliance with France, 393. The manner of his deaths 444. La Chau, a Flemish gentleman, associated by Charles V. with cardinal Ximenes in the re- gency of Castile, 101.- Landrecy, siege of, by the emperor Charles V., 309. Is abandoned by him, ib. Lannoy, mortgages the revenues of Naples, to supply the exigencies of the emperor, 189. Francis surrenders himself prisoner to him at the battle of Pavia, 192. His cautious disposal of him, ib. Delivers him up in pursuance of the treaty of Madrid, and receives the duke of ( trleans and the dauphin, as hostages in ex- change, 204. Is sent ambassador to Francis to require his fulfilment of the treaty of, 210. Concludes a treaty with the pope, 215. Marches to join the imperialists at Rome, where the troops refuse to obey him, 221, 222. I^anuza, Don John de, made viceroy of Arragon oir the departure of Charles V. for Germany, 119. Composes the disturbances there, 173. JLavagno, John Lewis Fiesco, count of, his cha- racter, 351. Meditates subverting the govern- ment of Genoa, ib. His preparations, 352. His artful method of assenrbling his adherents, 353. His exhortation to them, ib. His inter- view with his wife, 354. Sallies forth, ib. Airdrew Doria escapes, 355. Deputies sent to know his terms, ib. Is drowned, ib. His bro- ther's vanity ruins their designs, ib. See Fiesco. Lautrcc, Odet de Foix, mareschal de, the French governor of Milan, his character, 153. Alien- ates the affections of the Milanese from the French, ib. Invests Reggio, but is repulsed by Guicciardini the historian, then governor, ib. Is excommunicated by the pope, 154. The money for paying his troops seized by Louise of Savoy, ib. Is left by his Swiss troops, 155. Is driven out of the Milanese territories, ib. A new body of Swiss under him insist on giv- ing battle to the imperialists, who defeat him, 157. The Swiss leave him, ib. Retires into France with the residue of his troops, ib. De- livers up the dauphin and the duke of Orleans in exchange for Francis I., as hostages for the performance of the treaty of Madrid, 204. Is appointed generalissimo of the league against the emperor, 222. His successes in Italy, ib. Motives which withheld him from subduing IiNDKii. 601 tne Milanese, ib. Ooltgea tlie prince of Orange to retire to Naples, 2-23. Blockades Naples, •Z-26. His army wasted, and himself killed by the pestilence, 228. Learning, the revival of, favourable to the re- formation of religion, 142. Leipsw, a public disputation held there by MartLi Luther and Eccius, on the validity of the papal authority, 132. Leo X., pope of Rome, his character, 113. His apprehensions on the election of an emperor of Germany, at the death of Maximilian, ib. His counsel to the German princes, 114. Grants Charles V. a tenth of all ecclesiastical benefices in Castile, 117. Lays Castile under an inter- dict, but takes it otf at the instance of Charles, ib. His conduct on the prospect of war be- tween Charles and Francis, 120. Situation of the papacy at his accession, and his views of policy, 125. His inattention to Martin Luther's controversy with the Dominicans, concerning indulgences, 129. Is instigated against him and summons him to Koine, ib. Desires the elector of Saxony not to protect him, ib. Is prevailed on to permit Luther's doctrines to be examined in Germany, ib. Cardinal Cajetan appointed to try him, ib. Issues a bull in favour of indulgences, 131. A suspension of proceed- ings against Luther, and why, 132 Publishes a bull of excommunication against him, 133. The political views of his conduct between Charles and Francis, 148. Concludes a treaty with Francis, ib. Concludes a treaty also with Charles, 149. The conditions of the treaty • with Charles, ib. Its consequences to Italy, #153. Is disappointed in a scheme formed by Moroni, chancellor of Milan, for attacking that dutchy, ib. Excommunicates mareschal de Foix for his aUe:k of Reggio, and declares against France, 153, 154. Takes a body of Swiss into pay, 154. The French driven out of the Milanese, 155. He dies, ib. The spirit of confederacy broken by his death, ib. X' Esparre, Foix de, commands the French troops in Navarre for Henry d'Albret, 150. Reduces that kingdom, ib. His imprudent progress into Castile, ib. Is taken prisoner by the Spaniards, and the French driven out of Navarre, ib. Leonard, Father, forms a scheme of betraying Metz to the imperialists, 440, 441. Introduces soldiers clad like friars, 441. Is detected, ib. Is murdered by his monks, 442. Levesque, Don, his account of the motives which induced the emperor Charles V. to resign his hereditary dominions, 454, note. Lewis II., king of Hungary and Bohemia, his character, 219. Is invaded and killed by Soly- man the Magnificent, ib. XII., king of France, receives homage of the archduke Philip, for the earldom of Flan- ders, 90. Concludes a treaty with him, while at war with Ferdinand of Arragon, 91. Be- stows his niece, Germain de Foix, on Ferdi- nand, and concludes a peace with him, 93. Loses the confidence of Philip on that occa- sion, 98, note. Bestows his eldest daughter, already betrothed to Charles V., on the count of Anffouleme, ib. Leyva, Antonio de, defends Pavia for the emperor against Francis, 189. His vigorous defence, 190. Sallies out at the battle of Pavia, and contributes to the defeat of Francis, 192. Is left governor of Milan by the duke of Bour- bon, 214. Defeats the forces there, 229. Is appointed seneralissimn of the Italian league, 242. Directs the operations of the invasion of France, under the emperor, 266. Dies, 269. Literature, its obligations to the order of Jesuits, 291. Lorenzo di Medici. See Medici. Lorrain, cardinal of, persuades Henry H. of ' France to accept the offered alliance with none Vol. II.— 7fi Paul IV., and is sent to Rome to negotiate it, 451, 452. His imprudent behaviour towards the duchess of Valentinois, 479. Louise ol Savoy, mother of Francis I. of France, her character, 154. Her motives for seizing the money appointed for payment of mareschal Lautrec's troops, ib. Cause of her aversion to the house of Bourbon, 176. Her advances towards a marriage with Charles duke of Bourbon, rejected by him, 177. Determines to ruin him, ib. Instigates a law-suit against him for his estates, ib. Goes to dissuade Francis from his intended invasion of the Mi- lanese, who will not wait for her, 188. Is ap- pointed regent during his absence, ib. Her prudent conduct on the defeat of Pavia, and captivity of her son Francis, 193. Concludes a defensive alliance with Henry VIII., 197. Ratifies the treaty of Madrid for the recovery of her son's liberty, 203. Undertakes with Margaret of Savoy to accommodate the differ- ences between the emperor and Francis, 230. Articles of the peace of Cambray, ib. Loyola, Ignatio, commands the castle of Pam- peluna, in Navarre, and is wounded in its de- fence, 150. His enthusiastic turn of mind, ib. The founder of the society of Jesuits, ib. Pre- vails on the pope to establish the order, 287, 288. An examination into the constitution of the order, 288. Office and power of the gene- ral, 288, 289. The rapid progress of the order, 290. See Jesuits. Lunenburgh, duke of, avows the opinions of Luther, 183. Luther, Martin, the happy consequences of the opinions propagated by him, 124. Attacks in- dulgences, 126. His birth and education, ib. Chosen philosophical professor at the univer- sity of Wittemberg, 127. Inveighs against the publishers of indulgences, ib. Writes to Albert elector of Mentz against them, ib. Composes theses against indulgences, ib. Is supported by the Augustinians, and encouraged by Frede- rick elector of Saxony, 128. Is summoned te Rome by pope Leo, 129. Obtains of the pope leave to have his doctrines examined in Ger- many, ib. Appears before cardinal Cajetan at Augsburg, ib. His resolute reply to the pe- remptory order of Cajetan, to retract his prin- ciples, 130. Withdraws from Augsburg, and appeals from the pope ill-informed, to the pope when better informed, concerning him, ib. Appeals to a general council, 131. The death of Maximilian, how of service to him, 132. Questions the papal authority in a public dis- putation, ib. His opinions condemned by the universities of Cologne and Louvain, ib. A bull of excommunication published against him, 133. Pronounces the pope to be anti- christ, and burns the bull, ib. Reflections on. the conduct of the court of Rome towards him, 134. Reflections on his conduct, ib. Causes which contributed to favour his oppo- sition to the church of Rome, 135. Particu- larly the art of printing, 142. And the revival of learnine, ib. He is summoned to appear at the diet of Worms, 145. A safe-conduct, granted him thither, ib. His reception there, ib. Refuses to retract his opinions, ib. De- parts, 146. An edict published against him, ib. He is seized and concealed at Warthure, ib. Progress of his doctrines, ib. The uni- versity of Paris publishes a decree against him, ib. Wrote against by Henry VIII. of England, 146, 147. Answers both, 147. Withdraws from his retreat to check the inconsiderate zeal of Carlostadius, 182. Undertakes a transla- tion of the Bible, ib. His doctrines avowed by several of the German princes, 183. His moderate and prudent conduct, 207. Marries Catharine a Boria, a nun, ib. The gTeat pro- gress of his doctrines among the Germaniri GOS fN DE*. States, 235. Encouragestheprotestants, ilispi rited by trio emperor's decree against mm, 2:t8. His concern at the practices ot the anabaptists at Monster, 249. Is invited to Leipsic by Henry duke of Saxony, 279. His opinion ot Gropper's treatise to unite the protectants and catholics, 295. Dies, 329. Sununary ot his character, 329, 330. Extract from his last will, 331, note. See Protestants. A view of the extraordinary effects of his revolt from the church ol Koine, on that court, and on Europe in general, 494—497. /Luxembourg, invaded by Robert de la Marck, lord of Bouillon, 151. Invaded and overrun by the duke of Orleans, 305. Is again invaded by Fraucis, 308. Madrid, treaty of, between the emperor Charles V. and his prisoner Francis 1. kins of France, 202. Sentiments of the public with regard to this treaty, 203. .Magdeburg, the city of, refuses to admit the In- terim enforced by Charles V., and prepares for defence, 388. Maurice elector of Saxony ap- pointed to reduce it, 389. Is put under the ban of the empire, 395. The territories of, invaded by George of Mecklenburgh, ib. The inhabit- ants defeated in a sally, ib. Maurice of Sax- ony arrives and besieges the city, ib. Surren- ders, 396. The senate elects Maurice their burgrave, ib. Mahmcd, king of Tunis, history of his sons, 253. Majorca, an insurrection there, 173. Which is quelled with difficulty, ib. The moderation of Charles towards the insurgents, on his arrival in Spain, 174. Majesty, the appellation of, assumed by Charles V. on his election to the imperial crown, and taken by all the other monarchs of Europe, 116. Malines, council of, an account of, 282. Malta, the island of, granted by the emperor Charles V. to the knights of St. John, expelled from Rhodes by the Turks, 159. Mamaluk.es, extirpated by sultan Selhn II., 112. Mammelukes, a faction in Geneva so. termed, some account of, 361. Manuel, Don John, Ferdinand's ambassador at the imperial court, pays his court to the arch- duke Philip on queen Isabella's death, 92. In- tercepts Joanna's letter of consent to Ferdi- nand's regency of Castile, ib. Negotiates a treaty between Ferdinand and Philip, 93. De- clares for Maximilian's regency on Philip's death, 90.- Is made imperial ambassador at Rome, and concludes an alliance between Charles V. and Leo X., 149. The conditions of the treaty, ib. Procures Adrian of Utrecht to be elected pope, 156. Marcellus II., pope, his character, 448. Dies, ib. Marciano, battle of, between Peter Strozzi and the marquis de Marignano, 438. Margaret of Austria, and dowager of Savoy, aunt to Charles V., undertakes with Louise, mother of Francis I. of France, to accommo- date the differences between those two mon- archs, 230. Articles of the peace of Cambrav, 230, 231. Marignano, marquis of, appointed commander of the Florentine army, acting against the French, 437. Defeats the French army under Peter Strozzi, 438. Lays siege to Sienna, ib. Converts the siese into a blockade, ib. Sienna surrenders, 439. Reduces Porto Ercole, ib. His troops ordered into Piedmont by the em- peror, ib. Marck, Robert de la, lord of Bouillon, declares war asainst the emperor Charles V., 150. Ra- vages Luxembourg with French troops, 151. 19 commanded to disband his troops by Francis, ib. His territories reduced by the emperor, ib. Marseilles, besieged bv the imrtertalisrs-. JK7. Rescued by Francis, ib. interview and treaty there between the pope and Francis, 243. Jltirtinuzzt. bishop ol' Waradin, is appointed guardian to Stephen king of Hungary, 297. His character, ib. Solicits the assistance "I sultan Solyman against Ferdinand, ib. Soly- nian seizes the kingdom, 297, -£J8. Is appointed to the government of Transylvania and the education of the young king, jointly with the queen, 398. Negotiates with Ferdinand, 399. Prevails with the queen to resign Transylvania to Ferdinand, ib. Is appointed governor of Transylvania, and made a cardinal, 399, 400. Is assassinated by Ferdinand's order, 400. Martyr, Peter, his authority cited in proof of the extortions of the Flemish ministers of Charles V., 109. Mary of Burgundy, contracted to Lewis XII. of France, but married to the emperor Maximi- lian, 89. of England, her accession, 431. Receives proposals from the emperor Charles V. of mar- rying his son Philip, ib. The English averse to this union, ib. The house of commons re- monstrates against the match, 432. The arti- cles of marriage, ib. The marriage ratified by parliament and completed, 433. Re-esta- liiishes the Romish religion, ib. Persecutes the reformers, ib. Invites Charles to England on his resignation and passage to Spain, which he declines, 463. Is engaged by Philip to assist him in his war aaainst France, 467. Levies money by her prerogative to carry on the war, ib. Her neclect in the security of Calais, 475. Calais invested and taken by the duke of Guise* ib. Dies, 4?<4. . , daughter of James V. of Scotland, suc- ceeds to the crown an infant, 307. Is con- tracted to the dauphin of France, 374. Is educated at the court of France, 393. The marriage completed, ib. Assumes the title and arms of England on the death of Mary, 485. Matthias, John, a baker, becomes a leader of the anabaptists at Munster, 246. Seizes the city, and establishes a new form of government there, 246, 247. Repulses the bishop of Munster, 247. Iskilled, ib. See Rocioldand-lnahaptist.- Maurice, duke of Saxony, his motives for not acceding to the protestant leacueof Smalkalde, 310. Marches to the assistance of Ferdinand in Hungary, ib. His difference with his cousin the elector, ib. His conduct at the diet of Worms, 323. Joins the emperor against the protectants, 339. His motives, 344. His in-i dious conduct towards the elector, 345. Seizes the electorate of Saxony, 346. Saxony reco- vered by the elector, 349. His ineffectual en- deavours to reduce Wittemberg for the empe- ror, 364. Obtains possession of the electorate, 366. Is formally invested at the diet of Augs- burg, 378. Becomes dissatisfied with the empe- ror, 386. His motives for discontent explained, ib. His address and caution in his conduct, 387. Makes, nevertheless, professions of his attachment to the reformation, ib. Undertakes to reduce Magdeburg to submit to the Interim, 388. Protests against the council of Trent, ib. Is commissioned by the emperor to reduce Magdeburg, 389. Joins Geome of Mecklenburg before Magdeburg, 395. The city capitulates, 396. Begins to intrigue with count Mansfeldf, ib. Is elected burgrave of Maedeburg, ib. Dismisses his troops, 397. His address in amusing the emperor, ib. Makes an alliance with Henry II. of France, to make war on the emperor, 401. Makes a formal requisition of the landgrave's liberty, 402. Joins his troops, and publishes a manifesto, 404, 405. Takes possession of Aussburg and other cities, 405. An ineffectual negotiation with Charles, 406. Defeats a bodv of the emperor's troops, 407. Takes the eastleof Ehrenbere. ib- T" retarget INDEX. COS by a mutiny iu his troops, ib. Enters Inspruck, and narrowly misses taking Charles, 408. A negotiation between Dim and Ferdinand, 411. Besieges Frankfort on the Maine, 413. His in- ducements to an accommodation, 414. Signs a treaty with the emperor at Passau, ib. tie- flections on his conduct in this war, 413. Marches into Hungary to oppose the Turks, 416. Is placed at the head of the league against Albert of Brandenburg, 424. Defeats Albert, but is killed in the battle, ib. His character, ib. Is succeeded by his brother Augustus, 435. Maximilian, emperor of Germany, claims the regency of Castile on his son Philip's death, 95. Is supported iu his claim by Don John Manuel, 96. Loses it, ib. Obtains the govern- ment of the Low-Countries by the death of Philip, 98. Appoints William de Croy, lord of Chievres, to superintend the education of his grandson Charles, ib. Concludes a peace with France and Venice, 106. Dies, 110. Stale of Europe at this period, 111. His endeavours to secure the imperial crown to his grandson Charles, ib. How obstructed, ib. Mecklenburg, George of, invades the territories of Magdeburg for the emperor, 395. Defeats the Magdeburgers, who sally out on him, ib. Is joined by Maurice of Saxony, who assumes the supreme command, ib. Medecino, John James. See Marignano. Medici, Alexander, restored to the dominions of Florence by the emperor Charles, 234. Is assassinated, 275. , cardinal de, elected pope, and assumes the title of Clement VII., 179. See Clement VII. , Catharine di, is married to the duke of Orleans, 243. Is conjectured by the emperor Charles V. to have poisoned the dauphin, 270. , Cosmo de, made duke of Florence,. 275. Is supported by the emperor, and defeats the partisans of Lorenzo, 276. Asserts his inde- pendency against the emperor, 421. Offers to reduce Sienna for the emperor, 436. Enters into a war with France, ib. See Marignano. His address in procuring the investiture of Sienna from Philip II. of Spain, 472. It is granted to him, 473. , Lorenzo de, assassinates his kinsman Alexander, 275. Flies, ib. Attempts to oppose Cosmo, but is defeated, 275, 276. Medina del Campo, the inhabitants of, refuse to let Fonseca take the military stores there for the siege of the insurgents in Segovia, 161. The town almost burnt by Fonseca, ib. The inhabitants repulse him, ib. Surrenders after the battle of Villalar, and dissolution of the holy Junta, 171. Jdclancthon, imbibes the opinions of Martin Lu- ther, 134. Is employed to draw up a confession of faith by the protestant princes at the diet of Aussburg, 237. Is dejected by the emperor's decree against the protestants, but comforted by Luther, 238. Is invited to Paris by Francis, 2H9. His conference with Eccius, 294. Is prevailed upon to favour the Interim enforced by the emperor, 387. Melito, Conde de, made viceroy of Valencia, on the departure of Charles V. for Germany, 119. Appointed to command the troops of the nobles asainst theGermanada, 173. Defeated by them in several actions, ib. Destroys the associa- tion, ib. Mint;, archbishop of, artfully declares before the emperor, the dier of Augsburg's acceptance of the Inti run. without being authorized by it, 377. Mcrvnlle, a Milanese gentleman, employed as envov from Francis I. to Francis Sforza, duke of Milan, his fate, 358, 250. Metz, seized by Montmorency, tin- French gene- ral,406. Thedukeof Cuise made governor of, 418. Is besieeed by the emperor, 419. The emperor decisis, and retires in a ("stressed condition, 4-Jtt. A scheme formed by father Leonard to betray the city to the imperialists, 440, 441. The conspiracy detected by the governor, 441. Leonard murdered by his monks, and his associates executed, 442. Mezieres, in France, besieged by the imperialists, 151. Gallant defence of, by the chevalier Bayard, ib. The siege raised, ib. Milan, mareschal de Foix appointed to be the French governor of, 153. His character, ib. The Milanese alienated from the French by his oppressions, ib. Invaded by the ecclesiastical troops under Prosper Colonna, 154. The French driven out, 157. Oppressed by the imperial troops, 175. invad d by the French, 178. Who are driven out by Colonna, 178, 179. The im- perial troops there mutiny for pay, but. are appeased by Morone, 181. Abandoned by the French, ib. Overrun again by Francis, who seizes the city, 188, 189. The French retire on news of the battle of Pavia, 192. The invest] • ture of, granted to Sforza, 197. Taken from him and granted to the duke of Bourbon. 201. Disorders committed by the imperial troops there, 209. Oppressive measures of Bourbon to supply his mutinous troops, 213. The French forces there defeated by Antonio de Ley va, 229. Is again granted by the emperor to Sforza, 234- Death of Sforza, 262. The pretensions of Francis to that dutchy, 263. Is seized by the emperor, 266. The marquis del Guasto ap pointed governor, 269. Mohaci, battle of, between Solyman the Magni- ficent and the Hungarians, 219. Monastic orders, inquiry into the fundamental principles of, 288. Peculiar constitution of the order of Jesuits, ib. Moncado, Don Hugo de, the imperial ambassador at Rome, his intrigues with cardinal Colonna, against pope Clement, 212. Reduces the pope to an accommodation, 213. Is defeated and killed by Andrew Doria in a naval engagement before the harbour of Naples, 226. Monluc, is sent by the count d'Enguien to Francis for permission to give battle to the marquis del Guasto, 315. Obtains his suit by his spirited arguments, ib. Commands in Sienna, when besieged by the marquis de Marignano, 438. His vigorous defence, ib. Is reduced by famine, and capitulates, 438, 439. Monte Alciuo, numbers of the citizens of Sienna retire thither after the reduction of that city by the Florentines, and establish a free govern- ment there, 439. Mvntecuculi, count of, accused and tortured for poisoning the dauphin, charges the emperor with instigating it, 270. Montmorency, mareschal, his character, 267. Francis adopts his plan for resisting the empe- ror, and commits the execution to him, ib. His precautions, ib. His troops despise his con- duct, 268. Observations on his operations, ib. Is disgraced, 304. Conducts the army of Henry II. to join Maurice of Saxony, and seizes Metz, 406. Dissuades Henry from accepting the offered alliance with pope Paul IV., 451. ( 1 im- mands the French army against the duke of Savoy, 468. Detaches Dandelol to relieve St. Quintin, ib. Exposes himself imprudently to an action, and is defeated, ib. Is taken "pri- soner, 460. N( g0tiaj.es a peace between Philip and Demy, 480. Returns to France, and is hijhU ho lOUred by ii-nrs,, lb. Hi assiduity in forwarding the negotiations, 484. His ex- pedient tor promoting the treaty of Chateau- Cambresis, 485. Montpelier, a fruitless conference held there for the restitution of the kingdom of Navarre, 110. Moroni, Jerome, chancellor of Milan, his charac- ter, 153. Retires from the French exactions in Milan to Francis Sforza. ih. His intrigues how rendered al>ortive, ib. Quiets the mutinv of 604 INDEX. the imperial troops in Milan, 181. Is disgusted with the behaviour of Ulna les, 197. Intrigues against the emperor with Pescara, 198. Is be- trayed to the emperor by Pescara, 199. Is ar- rested at his visit to . escara, lb. Is set at liberty by the duke of Bourbon, and becomes his confidant, 213, 214. Jlouson, in France, taken by the imperialists, 151. Retakeu by Francis, ib. Jltulhausen, battle ol, between the emperor Charles V. and the electoi of Saxony, 362. Jfulcy-Hascen, king of Tunis, his inhuman treatment of his father and brothers, 253. Is expelled by Bai baiossa, 254. Engages the em- peror to restore him, 255. Is established again by the surrender of Tunis, 257. His trtaty with Chailes, ib. Muncer, Thomas, a disciple of Luther, opposes him with fanatical notions, 206. Heads the insurrection of the peasants in Thuringia, ib. His extravagant schemes, ib. Is defeated and put to dealli, 207. .Minister, the first settlement of the anabaptists in that city, 240. The city seized by them, ib. They establish a new form of government there, 240, 247. Is called Mount Sion, 247. The bishop of, repulsed by them, ib. Is block- aded by the bishop, 249. Tiie city taken, ib. See Anabaptists. .Warder, the prices of composition for, by the Romish clergy, 137. Jllustapha, the declared heir to sultan Solyinan the Magnificent, is invested with the adminis- tration of Diarbequir, 428. His father ren- dered jealous of his popularity by the arts of Roxalana, 428, 429. Is strangled by his father's order, 430. His only son murdered, ib. Naples, the revenues of, mortgaged by Lannoy to supply the emperor in his exigencies, 189. Invaded by the French under the duke of Al- bany, 190. Invaded by pope Clement VII., 214. Treaty between the pope and Lannoy, viceroy of, 215. The prince of Orange retreats thither before Lautrec, 225, 226. Is blockaded by Lautrec, 226. Sea engagement in the harbour of, between Andrew Doria and Moncada, ib. Causes which disappointed the French opera- tions against, 226, 227. Doria revolts and opens the communication by sea again, 227. Oppressed by the Spanish viceroy Don Pedro de Toledo, becomes disaffected to the emperor Charles V., 422. Is harassed by a Turkish fleet, ib. Nassau, count of, invades Bouillon at the head of the imperialists, 151. Invades France, takes Mouson, and besieges Mezieres, but is re- pulsed, ib. Navarre, the kingdom of, unjustly acquired by Ferdinand of Arragon,97. D'Albret's invasion of, defeated by cardinal Ximenes, 105. Its castles dismantled, except Pampeluna, which Ximenes strengthens, ih. Invaded by Francis J. in the name of Henry D'Albret, 150. Re- duced by I'Esparre, the French general, ib. The French driven out by the Spaniards, and I'Esparre taken prisoner, ib. Netherlands, the government of, first assumed by Charles V., 99. The Flemings averse to Charles's going to Spain, 107. Invaded by- Francis 1. king of France, 151. A truce con- cluded with, by Henry VIII. of England, 226, 227. Invaded by Francis again, 271. A sus- pension of arms there, ih. An insurrection at Ghent, 281, 282. See Ghent. Is once more invaded by Francis, 308. Resigned by the emperor to his son Philip, 455. A review of the alterations in, during the sixteenth century, 499 Nice, a truce for ten years concluded there be- tween the emperor and Francis, 273. Besieged by the French and Turks. 309. Noyon, treaty of, between Charles V.and Francis I. of France, 106. The terms of, neglected by Charles, 120 Nuremberg, the city of, embraces the reformed religion, 183. Diet of, particulars of Pope Adrian's brief to, respecting the reformers, ib. The reply to, 184. Proposes a general council, ib. Presents a list ot grievances to the pope. ib. The recess, or edict of, ib. This diet of great advantage to the reformers, 185. Pro- ceedings of a second diet there, 185, 186. Re- cess of the diet, 186. A n accommodation agreed to there, between the emperor Charles V. and the protectants, 240. Oran, and other places in Barbary. annexed to the crown of Castile, by Ximenes, 97. Orange, Pi.ilibeit de Chalons, prince of, general of the impei ial army on the death of the duke of Bourbon, takes the castle ol St. Angelo, and pope Clement VII. prisoner, 218. Retires to Naples mi the approach of Lautrec, 225,226. Takes his successor, the marquis de Saluces, prisoner at Aversa, 228. Orleans, duke of, delivered up to the emperor Charles V. with the dauphin, as hostages for the performance of the treaty of Madrid, 204. Is married to Catharine di Medici, 243. Be- comes dauphin by the death of his brother, 271. See Dauphin. duke of, brother to the former, com- mands the army appointed by Francis I. for the invasion of Luxembourg, 304. Is prompted by envy to abandon his conquests, and join his brother the dauphin in Roussillon, 305. Dies, 324. Pacheeo, Donna Maria, wife to Don John de Pa- dilla, her artful scheme to raise money to supply the army of the holy Junta, 168. Her husband taken prisoner and executed, 170. His letter to her, ib. Note. Raises forces to revenge his death, 171. Is reduced, and retires to Portu- gal, 172. Padilla, Don John de, his family and character, 160. Heads the insurrection at Toledo, ib. Routs the troops undei Ronquillo, 161. Calls a convention of the malecontents at A viln, 162. Forms the confederacy called The Holy Junta, 163. Disclaims Adrian's authority, ib. Gets possession of queen Joanna, ib. Removes the holy Junta to Tordesillas, the place of her resi- dence, ib. Sent with troops to Valladolid, and deprives Adrian of all power of government, 163, 164. Is superseded in the command of the army of the Junta by Don Pedro de Giron, 167. Is appointed commander at the resignation of Giron, 168. His army supplied with money by an expedient of his wife, ib. Besieges Tor- relobaton, 169. Takes and plunders it, ib. Concludes a truce with the nobles, ib. Is wounded and taken prisoner in an action with the Conde de Haro, 170. Is put to death, ib. His letter to his wife, ib. Note. His letter to the city of Toledo, 171. Note. Palatinate, the reformation established there by the elector Frederick, 326. Palatine, count, ambassador from the diet at Francfort, brings Charles V. the offer of the imperial crown, which he accepts, 117. Pampeluna, castle of, in Navarre, its fortifica- tions strengthened by cardinal Ximenes, 105. Taken by I'Esparre. the French general, for Henry d'Albret, 150. Retaken from the France, ib. Papacy, now liable to be affected by the disposal of the imperial crown, 113. Paraguay, a sovereignty established there by the order of Jesuits, 292. ' The inhabitants of civil- ized by them, ib. Precautions used by the Jesuits to preserve the independency of f he! r empire there. 293. iNDfcX. 605 Parts, a decree published by the university of, against Martin Luther the reformer, 146. A decree of the parliament of, published against the emperor Charles V., 270, 271. Parma, the dutchy of, confirmed to Octavio Far- nese, by pope Julius III., 392. Is attacked by the imperialists, and successfully protected by the French, 393. Passau, a treaty concluded there between the emperor Charles V. and Maurice of Saxony, 414. Reflections on this peace, and the con- duct of Maurice, 415. Pavia, besieged by Francis I. of France, 189. Vigorously defended by Antonio de Leyva, 190. Battle of, between Francis and the duke of Bourbon, 191, 192. The imperial troops in that city mutiny, 195. Paul III. pope, elected, 245. His character, ib. Proposes a general council to be held at Man- tua, 251. Negotiates personally between the emperor and Francis, 273. Issues a bull for a council at Mantua, 277. Prorogues and trans- fers it to Vicenza, 278. A partial reformation of abuses by, ib. Summons the council of Trent, 311. Prorogues it, ib. Summons it again, 322. Grants the dntchies of Parma and Piacentia to his illegitimate son, 325. Deprives and excommunicates the electoral bishop of Cologne, 332. Presses the emperor to declare war against the protestants, 333. Concludes an alliance with him against the protestants, 334. Indiscreetly publishes this treaty, 336. His troops join the emperor, 341. Recalls them, 350. Removes the council from Trent to Bo- logna, 373. Refuses the emperor's request to carry the council back to Trent, ib. His resent- ment against the emperor for the murder of his son cardinal Farnesc, 374. Is petitioned by the diet of Augsburg for the return of the coun- cil of Trent, 375. Eludes the complying with this request, 375, 376. His sentiments of the Interim, published by Charles, 378, 379. Dis- misses the council of Bologna, 381. Annexes Parma and Piacentia to the holy see, 383. Dies, ib. The manner of his death inquired- into, ib. Note. Paul IV. pope, elected, 448. His character and history, 449. Founds the order of Theatines, ib. Is the principal occasion of establishing the inquisition in the papal territories, jb. Lays aside his austerity on his election, ib. His partiality to his nephews, 450. Is alienated from the emperor by his nephews, ib. Makes overtures to an alliance with France, 451. Is enraged by the recess of the diet of Augsburg, 452. Signs a treaty with France, 453. Is in- cluded in the truce for five years, concluded be- tween the emperor and Henry, 458. His insi- dious artifices to defeat this truce, 458, 459. Absolves Henry from his oath, and concludes a new treaty with him, 460. His violent pro- ceedings against Philip, now king of Spain, ib. The Compagna Romana seized by the duke d'Alva, 461. Concludes a truce with Alva, 461, 462. Contrast between his conduct and that of Charles, 464. Renews his hostilities against Philip, 465. Is unprovided for military operations, ib. Is reduced to make peace with Philip, by the recall of the duke of Guise after the defeat of St. Qnintin, 471, 472. Receives an ambassador from the emperor Ferdinand to notify his election, but refuses to see him, or to acknowledge the emperor, 476, 477. Dies, 483. Puulin, a French officer, sent ambassador from Francis I. to sultan Solyman, 307. His suc- cessful negotiations at the Porte, 307, 308. Pembroke, earl of, sent by queen Mary of Eng- land with a body of men to join the Spanish army in the Low-Countries, 467. Perpignan, the capital of Roussillon, besieged by the dauphin of France. 305. The siege rafaed, ;•> Pescara, marquis de, takes Milan by assault, 155. Drives Bonnivet back to France, 181. His generous care of the chevalier Bayard, 182. Commands in the invasion of Provence, 187. Besieges Marseilles, ib. His army retires to- ward Italy, on the appearance of the French troops, ib. Resigns Milan to the French, 189. Prevails on die Spanish troops not to murmur at present for their pay, ib. Contributes to the defeat of Francis, at the battle of Pavia, 192. Is disgusted at Francis being taken to Spain without his concurrence, 198. His resentment inflamed by Morone, ib. Betrays Moroni's designs to the emperor, 199. Arrests Morone, ib. Dies, 201 Philip, archduke of Austria, and father of Charles V., visits Spain, with his wife Joanna, 9fl. Does homage by the way to Lewis XII. of France tor the earldom of Flanders, ib. His title to the crown acknowledged by the Cortes, ib. Is disgusted with the formality of the Spanish court, ib. Ferdinand becomes jealous of his power, ib. Slights his wife, ib. His abrupt departure from Spain, ib. Passes through France, and enters into a treaty with Lewis, 91. His sentiments on Ferdinand's obtaining the regency of Castile, 92. Re- quires Ferdinand to retire to Arragon, and resign his regency of Castile, ib. The regency of Castile vested jointly in him, Ferdinand, and Joanna, by the treaty of Salamanca, 93. Sets out for Spain, and is driven on the coast of England, wherahe is detained three months by Henry VII., 94. Arrives at Corunna, ib. The Castilian nobility d< dare openly for him, ib. Ferdinand resigns the regency of Castile lohim,ib. Interview between them, ib. Ac- knowledged king of Castile by the Cortes, 95. Dies, ib. Joanna's extraordinary conduct in regard to his body, ib. See Joanna. Philip, prince, son to the emperor Charles V., his right of succession recognised by the Cortes of Arragon and Valencia, 306. Is acknowledged by the states of the Netherlands, 382. His de- portment disgusts the Flemings, ib. His cha- racter, 391. Is married to Mary queen of Eng- land, 432, 433. The English parliament jealous of him, 43*. His father resigns his hereditary dominions to him, 453. Is called by his father out of England, 455. The ceremony of invest- ing him, ib. His father's address to him, 456. Commissions Cardinal Granvelle toaddressthe assembly in his name, ib. Mary queen dowa- ger of Hungary resigns her regency, ib. The dominions of Spain resigned to him, 457. His unpoliteness to the French ambassador Colig- ny, 458. Note. The pope's violent proceed- ings against him, 460. His scruples concerning; commencing hostilities against the pope, 461. His ungrateful neglect in paying his father's pension, 463. The pope renews hostilities against him, 465. Assembles an army in the Low-Countries against France, 466. Goes over to England to engage that kingdom in the war. 466, 467. Visits the camp at St. Quintin. after the victory, 469. Opposes the scheme of penetrating to Paris, and orders the siege of St. Quintin to be prosecuted, 470 St. Quintin taken by assault, ib. The small advantages he reaped by these successes, 471. Builds the Es- curial in memory of the bottle of St. Quintin, ib. Concludes a peace with the pope, 472. Restores Piacentia to Octavio Famese, ib. Grants the investiture of Sienna to Cosmo cU Medici, 473. Enters into negotiations for peace with his prisoner Montmorency, 480 Death of queen Mary, 484. Addresses her successor Elizabeth for marriage, ib. Elizabet' 's mo- tives for rejecting him, 485. Her evasive an- swer to him, ib. Supplants his son Don Carlos, and marries Henry's daughter Elizabeth, 487. irticles vf the 'rea.ty of Cltatean Cambrcis.-il- 606 INDEX. Philibert, Emanuel, duke of Savoy. See Savoy. Philippine, nephew to Andrew Doria, defeats Moncada in a sea engagement betbre the har- bour of Naples, 220. Piadena, marquis de, invades Transylvania for Ferdinand, 309. Misrepresents cardinal Mar- tinuzzi to Ferdinand, and obtains a commis- sion to assassinate him, 400. Is forced to abandon Transylvania, 427. Picardy, invaded by Henry VIII., 158. Henry forced by the duke de Veudonie to retire, 158, 150. Invaded again under the duke of Suffolk, 180. Penetrates almost to Paris, but is driven back, ib. Ineffectual invasion by the impe- rialists, 270. I'lacentia, the dutchy of, granted together with that of Parma, by pope Paul III. to his natural son, cardinal Farnese, 325. Farnese assassi- nated there, 374. Is taken possession of by the imperial troops, ib. Restored to Octavio Far- nese, by Philip II. of Spain, 472 Pole, cardinal, arrives in England with a lega- tine commission, 433. Endeavours to mediate a peace between the emperor and the king of France, without success, 442. Is recalled from the court of England by pope Paul IV., 465 Printing, its en"ects on the progress of the refor- mation, 142. Prague, its privileges abridged by Ferdinand king of Bohemia, 371. Protestants, the derivation of the name,236. Of whom they originally consisted, ib. A severe decree published against them by the emperor, 237. They enter into a league, 238. See Smalkalde. Renew their league, and apply to Francis, king of France, and Henry VIII. of England, for protection, 230. Are secretly en- couraged by Francis, ib. Receive a supply of money from Henry, 240. Terms of the pacifi- cation agreed to between them and the em- peror at Nuremberg, ib. Assist the emperor against the Turks, ib. Their negotiations with the pope, relative to a general council, 241. Renew the league of Smalkalde for Jen years, 251. The motives for refusing to assist the king of France against the emperor, 260. Refuse to acknowledge the council summoned by the pope at Mantua, 277. A conference lietween their principal divines and a deputation of catholics, at Ratisbon, 204. This conference liow rendered fruitless, 204, 205. Obtain a pri- vate grant from Charles in their favour, 296. Drive the' duke of Brunswick from his do- minions, 312. All rigorous edicts against them suspended by a recess of the diet of Spires, 313. Their remonstrances to Ferdinand at the diet of Worms, 322. Their inflexible adherence to the recess of Spires, 323. Disclaim all con- nection with the council of Trent, ib. Are strengthened by the accession of Frederick, elector palatine, 326. Are alarmed at the pro- ceedings of the emperor, 328. The emperor leagues with the pope against them, 335. Pre- pare to resist the emperor, 337. Levy an army, 338. The operations of the army distracted by the joint commanders, 341. The army dis- persed, 348. The elector of Saxony reduced, 363. The landgrave deceived by treaty, and confined, 368. The emperor's cruel treatment of him, 370. The Interim, a system of theology recommended by the emperor to the diet at Augsburg, 377. Are promised protection by the emperor at the council of Trent, 389. The "mperor proceeds rigorously against them, 394. Their dpputies obtain a safe conduct from the emperor, but are refused by the council, 398. Mauiiee of Saxony raises an army in their cause, 404. See Maurice. Treaty of Passau, 414. The protestant princes again unite to Strengthen the protestant interest, 445. Recess Of the diet of Augsburg mi the subject of reli- gion, ib. Why originally averse to the prin- • ' is of toleration, 440 Provence, is laid waste by the maresehal Mont- morency on the approach of the emperor Charles V., 267. Is entered by the emperor, 26H. The disastrous retreat of the emperor from, 269. Prussia, when conquered by the Teutonic order, 208. Is erected into a dutchy, and finally into a kingdom, and enjoyed by the house of 1! rait denburg, ib. Ratisbon, a conference between a deputation of protestant and catholic divines, before the emperor and diet there, 294. This conference how rendered fruitless, 294, 295. A diet opened there by the emperor, 333. The catholic mem- bers of, assert the authority of the council of Trent, ib. The protestants present a memo- rial against it, ib. The protestant deputies retire, 335. Reformation in religion, the rise of, explained, 124. The diet at Worms called by Charles V., to check the progress of, ib. Account of Mar tin Luther, the reformer, 126. Beginning of, in Switzerland, by Zuinglius, 132. State of, in Germany, at the arrival of Charles V., 133. Reflections on the conduct of the court of Rome toward Luther, 134. And on Luther's con duct, ib. Inquiry into the causes which con- tributed to the progress of, 135, 136. Observa- tions on the pontificate of Alexander VI. and Julius II., 136. The immoral lives of the Romish clergy, ib. The progress of, favoured by the invention of printing, 142. And the re vival of learning, 142, 143. The great progress of, in Germany, 182. Advantages derived to, from the diet at Nuremberg, 185. Its tendency in favour of civil liberty, 205. The dissensions between the emperor and the pope, favourable to, 220. The great spread of, among the Ger- man princes, 235. The confession of Augs- burg drawn up by Melancthon, 237. Causes which led to that of England, 244. Thcexcesses it gave rise to, 245. See Protestants, Mau- rice, and Smalkalde. Is established in Saxony, 279. The great alteration occasioned by, in the court of Rome, 494. Contributed to im- prove both the morals and learning of the Romish church, 496. Reggio, invested by the French, who are re- pulsed by the governor Guicciardini, the histo- rian, 153. Remonstrance of grievances drawn up by the holy Junta, the particulars of, 164, 165. Re- marks on, 166. Reverse, a deed so called, signed by the arch- duke Ferdinand on being elected king of Bohe- mia, 219. Rheggio, plundered and burnt by Barbarossa, 300. Rhodes, the island of, besieged by Solyman the Magnificent, 159. Taken by him, ib. The island of Malta granted to the knights of, by the emperor Charles V., ib. Richlieu, cardinal, his remarks on De Retz's his- tory of Fiesco's conspiracy, 356. Note. Rineon, the French ambassador at the Porte, the motives of his return to France, 303. Is mur- dered in his jourAey back to Constantinople, by order of the imperial governor of the Mi lanese, ib. Rome, reflections on the conduct.of the court of, respecting the proceedings against Martin Lu- ther,134. The exorbitant wealth of the church of, previous to the reformation, 139. Venality of, 140. How it drained other countries W their wealth, 141. The city seized by cardinal Colonna, and pope Clement VII. besieged in the Castle of St. Angelo, 212, 213. The city taken bv the imperialists, and Bourbon killed. 217. Is plundered, 218. The great revolution in the court of, dining the sixteenth eentur 494, 405. How affected by tin' revolt of Lu flier. 496. Thespirftofitsgoverriment changed by, ib. 1 N D E X. 607 liouqutilo, sent by cardinal Adrian with troops to suppress the insurrection in Segovia, 101. Is routed by the insurgents, ib. Roveri, Francesco Maria de, restored to liis dutchy of U rhino, by pope Adrian, 175. Roxalana, a Russian captive, becomes the fa- vourite mistress of sultan Solyman the Magni- ficent, 427. her only daughter married to Rtistan tlie grand vizier, ib. Procures herself to be declared a free woman by the sultan, 428. Is formally married to linn, ib. Renders Soly- man jralousoi the virtues ol his son Mustapha, 428, 429. Musiapha strangled, 430. Rustan,%i and vizier to Solyman the Magnificent, is married to his daughter by Roxalana, 427. Enters into Roxalana's scheme to ruin Soly- man's son Mustaplia, ib. Is sent with an army to destroy him, 42'J. Draws Solyman to the army by false reports, 429, 430. Salamanca, treaty of, between Ferdinand of Ar- ragon, and his son-in-law Philip, 93. Salerno, prince of, heads the disaffected Neapoli- tans, against the oppressions of the viceroy Don Pedro de Toledo, 422. Solicits aid fioiu Henry II. of France, who instigates the Turks to in- vade Naples, ib. Saluccs, marquis de, succeeds Lautrec in the command of the French army before Naples, 228. Retires to Aversa, where he is taken pri- soner by the prince of Orange, ib. Betray- his charge in Piedmont, 266. Sancei-re, count de, defends St. Disier against the emperor Charles, 316. Is deceived into a sur- render by the cardinal Granvelle, 317. Sauvage, a Fleming, made chancellor of Castile by Charles, on the death of Ximenes, 109. His extortions, Hi. Savona, is lortified, and its harbour cleared by the French to favour its rivalship with Ge- noa, 227. Savoij, diaries, duke of, marries Beatrix of Por- tugal, sister to the emperor Charles V., 260. The cause of Francis's displeasure against him, 261. His territories over-run by tiie French troops, ib. Geneva recovers its liberty, 262. His situation by the truce of Nice, between the emperor and Francis, 274. Is besieged at Nice, by the French and Turks, 309. Savoy, Emanuel Philibert, duke of, appointed by Philip of Spain to command his army in the Low-Countries, 467. Invests St. Quintih, ib. Defeats Dandelot in an endeavour to join the garrison, 468. But does not hinder him from entering the town, ib. Defeats the constable Montmorency, .and takes him prisoner, 468. 469. Is graciously visited in the camp by Philip, 469. Takes St. Quintin by assault, 470. As- sists Montmorency in negotiating peace be- tween Philip and Henry, 480. Marrii s Henry's sister Elizabeth, 488. Saxony, elector of, appointed joint commanderof the army oft lie protestani league, with the land- grave of Hesse, 341. Their characters com- pared, ib. Opposes the landgrave's intention of giving battle tothe emperor, 343. His elect- orate seized by Mam ice, 346. The army of the league disperse, 348. Recovers Saxony, 349. Is amused by Maurice with a negotiation, ib. Raises an army to defend himself against the emperor 361. Is irresolute in hi9 measures, ib. Charles passes the Elbe, 361, 362. Is at- tacked by the Imperialists, 362. Is taken pri- soner'and harshly received by the emperor, 363, Is condemned to death by a court martial, 364. His resolution on the occasion, 364, 365. Is in dun il by regard to his family to surrender his electorate, 365. Refuses the emperor's desire of his approving the Interim, 379. The rigour of his confinement increased, ib. Is carried by the emperor with him into the Netherlands, 881 I? released by tiie emperor on Maurice's taking arms against bun, but chooses to conti- nue with the emperor, 408. Obtains his liberty alter the .real) ol Passau, 416, 417. - George, duk. of, an enemy to tiie refor- mation, 27H. His death an advantage to the reformation, ib. The protestanf religion estab- lished there by Henry, duke of, ib. Henry is succeeded by hisson Maui ice, 310. His motives for mil acceding to the lcngucol Smalkalde, ib. Marches to the assistance oi Ferdinand in Hungary, ib. Joins the emperor against the protestants, 339. 345. See Maurice. Sc/tertel, Sebastian, a commander in the army ol" the protestani league, his vigorous commence- ment ol hostilities, 340. Is injudiciously re- called, 341. Is expelled from Augsburg on the dispersion of the protestant army, 348. Scotland, James V. of, married to Mary of Guise, duchess dowager of Longueville. 276. Death ol James and accession of his infant daughter Mary, 307. Mary contracted to the dauphin of France, 374. The marriage celebrated, 477. Mary assumes the title and arms ol England on the death oi Mary ol England, 484. Included in the treaty of Chateau-Cambresis, 486. Al- teration in the conduct of England toward, 494. Sects in religion, reflections on the origin of, 245. Segovia, an insurrection there, on account of their representative Tordesillas voting for the donative to Charles V., 160. Is killed by the populace, ib. The insurgents there defeat Ronquillo, sent to suppress them by cardinal Adrian, 161. Surrenders after the battle of Villalar, 171. Selim II. Sultan, extirpates tiie Mamalukes, and adds Egypt and Syria to his empire, 112. Considered as formidable to the European powers, ib. ftforza, obtains of Charles V. the investiture of Milan, 197. Forfeits the dutchy by his intrigues with Moroitr}, 199. Joins in a league against Charlos for the recovery of Milan, 209. Is forced to surrender Milan to the imperialists, 211, 212. Obtains again of the emperor the in- vestiture of Milan, 234. Enters into a private treaty with Francis, 258. Merveillc, Francis's envoy, executed for murder, 259. Dies, 262. Sienna, the inhabitants of, implore the assistance of the emperor Charles V. to defend them against their nobles, 421. The imperial troops endeavour to enslave them, ib. Regain pos- session of their city, 422. Repulse an attack of the Germans, 426. Are besieged by the mar- quis de Marignano, 438. The commander Monluc repulses the assaults vigorously, ib. The town reduced by famine, ib. Nunmers of the citizens retire, and establish a free govern- ment at Monte Alcino, 439. The remaining citizens oppressed, ib. And (lock to Monte Al- cino, ib. Is granted by the emperor to his son Philip, ib. The investiture given by Philip to Cosmo di Medici, 473. Sievcrhausen, battle of, between Maurice of Saxony and Albert of Brandenburgh, 424. Sion, cardinal of, his scheme for weakening the French army in the Milanese, 155. Leaves the imperial army to attend the conclave on the death of Leo X., ib. Smalkalde, the protestanls enter into a league there for their mutual support, 238. The league renewed at a second meeting there, 239. The league of, renewed tor ten years, 251. A mani- festo, refusing to acknowledge a council called by the pope, 277. The king of Denmark joins the league, 278. The princesof, protest against the authority of the imperial chamber, and the recess of the diet at Nuremberg, nil. Publish a manifesto against the proceedings of the council at Trent, 327. Are alarmed at the pro- ceedings of the emperor, ib. A want of unity among the members, 327, 328. The views of (he elector of Saxony, and the landgrave, ex 60S INDEX. plained, 328. Appear at the diet of Ratisbon by deputies, 333. Their deputies protest against the council of Trent, 334. Their deputies, alarmed at the emperor's proceedings and de- clarations, leave the diet, 335. The emperor leagues with the pope against them, lb. Pre- pare to resist the emperor, 337. Are disap- pointed in their application to the Venetians and Swiss, 337, 338. As also with Henry VIII. and Francis, 338. Assemble a large army, 338, 339. Are put under the ban of the empire, 340. Declare war against the emperor, ib. Hostili- ties begun by Schertel, ib. They recall him, 341. The elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse appointed joint commanders of their army, ib. Tiie characters of the two com- manders compared, ib. Their operations dis- tracted by this joint command, 342, 343. Can- nonade the emperor's camp, 343. Make over- tures of peace to the emperor, 347 Their army disperse, 348. The elector of Saxony re- duced, 363. The landgrave deceived and con- fined, 368, 369. Their warlike stores seized by the emperor, 37&. See Maurice. Solyman, the Magnificent, ascends the Ottoman throne, 124. Invades Hungary and takes Bel- grade, 159. Takes the island of Rhodes, ib. Defeats the Hungarians at Mohacz, 219. His successes, and the number of prisoners he car- ried away, ib. Besieges Vienna, 233. Enters Hungary again with a vast army, but is forced to retire by the emperor Charles, 240, 241. Takes Barbarossa, the pirate, under his protec- tion, 253. Concludes an alliance with Francis, kiig of France, 272. Prepares to invade Na- ples, ib. Protects Stephen, king of Hungary, and defeats Ferdinand, 296, 297. Seizes Hun- gary for himself, 297, 298. Overruns Hungary again, in fulfilment of his treaty with Francis, 309. Concludes a truce with the emperor, 333. Loses Transylvania, 399. Ravages the coasts of Italy, 412. 422. Carries a mighty army into Hungary, 413. Re-establishes Isabella and her son in Transylvania, 427. His violent attach- ment to his concubine Roxalana, ib. Is pre- vailed on to declare her a free woman, 428. Formally marries her, ib. Is rendered jealous of the virtues of his son Mustapha, by the arts of Roxalana, 428, 429. Orders him to be strangled, 429. Orders the murder of Musta- pha's son, 430. Spain, the state of, at the death of Ferdinand of Arragon, 99, 100. Charles, king of, aspires to the imperial crown oh the deathof Maximilian, 111. Is elected emperor, 116. Reflections of the Spaniards on that event, ib. Charles ap- points viceroys, and departs for Germany, 119. Insurrections there, 160. A view of the feudal system in, 162. An account of the confederacy termed the holy Junta, 162, 163. Causes which prevented an union of the malecontents in the respective provinces, 174". The moderation of Charles toward them on his arrival, ib. In- stance of the haughty spirit of the grandees, 281. Is invaded by the dauphin, 304. The dominions of, resigned by Charles to his son Pliilip, 457. The arrival of Charles, and his re- ception there, 463. The place of his retreat de- scribed, 464. The regal power in, how en- larged by Charles, 490. The foreign acquisi- tions added to, ib. See Arragon, Castile, Ga- iicia, Valentia, Cortes, Germanada, and Holy Junta. .Spires, diet of, its proceedings relative to the re formation, 220. Another diet called there by the emperor, 235. Another diet at, 311. Re- cess of, in favour of the protestants, 313. Spiritual censures of the Romish church, the dreadful effects of, 139. St. Dialer, in Champagne, invested by the em- peror, 316. Is obtained by the artifice of car- dinal fiinnveHe. 317. St. Justus, monastery of, in Placcutia, is chosen by the emperor Charles V. for his retreat after his resignation, 464. His situation described, ib. His apartments, ib. St. Quintin, invested by the Spanish troops, and defended by admiral Coligny, 467, 468. Dan- delot defeated in an endeavour to join the gar- rison, 468. But enters the town, ib. Mont- morency defeated by the duke of Savoy, 468, 469. The town taken by assault, 471. Strozzi, Peter, some account of, 437. Is intrusted with the command of the French army in Italy, ib. Is defeated by the marquis de Man: nam i, 438. Suabia, an insurrection of the peasants against the nobles there, 205. They publish a memo- rial of tlieir grievances, ib. The insurgents dispersed, 206. The protestant religion sup- pressed there by the emperor Charles V., 394. Suffolk, duke of, invades Picardy, penetrates al- most to Paris, but is driven back, 180. Surrey, earl of, created high admiral to the em- peror Charles V.. 158. Obliged to retire out of Picardy by the duke de Vendome, 158, 159. Sweden, a summary view of the revolutions in; during the sixteenth century, 499. Switzerland, the Cantons of, espouse the preten- sions of Charles V. to the imperial crown, 113. Commencement of the reformation there by Zuinglius, 132. The regulation under which they hire out their troops, 154. The precipitate battle, insisted on by their troops under Lau- trec, lost, 157. Syria, how and- by whom added to the Ottoman empire, 112. Term.es, mareschal de, governor of Calais, takes Dunkirk by storm, 478. Engages the count of Egmont, and is defeated by the accidental ar- rival of an English squadron on the coast, ib. Is taken prisoner, ib. Terouane, taken, and demolished by the emperor Charles V., 425, 426. Tetzel, a Dominican friar, his shameful conduct in the sale of indulgences in Germany, 125. His form of absolution, and recommendation of the virtues of indulgences, 126. Note. His debauched course of life, ib. Publishes theses against Luther, 128. Teutonic order, a character of, 208. Conquer the province of Prussia, ib. Their grand-mas- ter Albert made duke of Prussia, ib. Theatines, the order of, by whom founded, 449. Thionville, in Luxembourg, taken by the duke of Guise, 477. Thuringia, an insurrection of the peasants there, against the nobility, 206. The fanatical notions inspired into them by Thomas Muncer, ib. Their disorderly army defeated, 207. Toledo, insurrection in, at the departure of Charles V. for Germany, 119. 160. The cathe- dral of, stripped of its riches to support the. army of the holy Junta, 168. Padilla's letter to, at his execution, 171. Note. Is instigated to continue in arms by Padilla's wife, ib. Is reduced, 172. Ludovico de, nephew to Cosmo di Medici, sent by his uncle to negotiate with Philip II. of Spain, for the investiture of Sienna, 473. Don Pedro de, viceroy of Naples, op- presses the Neapolitans, 422. And occasions the Turks to ravage the coasts of Naples, ib. Toleration, reflections on the progress of, in Ger- many, 445, 446. Why mutually allowed among the ancient Heathens, 446. How the primitive Christians became averse to, 446, 447. Tomorri, Paul, a Franciscan monk, archbishop of Golocza, is made general of the Hungarian army against Solyman the Magnificent, and is defeated by him, 219. Tordesillas, the residence of queen Joanna, the confederacy of malcontents called the Hnlv !M)EX. 60b Junta, removed (hither, 103. The quern taken there by the Conde de Ha.ro, 167. TordesiUas, one of the representatives of Sego- via, killed by the populace for voting the dona- tive to Charles V., at the Cortes assembled in ■*'£ wp • -• VflH && I «^dk