THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES V

BOOK X.

NEW LEAGUE AGAINST CHARLES

While Charles labored, with such unwearied industry, to persuade or to force the protestants to adopt his regulations with respect to religion, the effects of his steadiness in the execution of his plan were rendered less considerable by his rupture with the pope, which daily increased. The firm resolution which the emperor seemed to have taken against restoring Placentia, together with his repeated encroachments on the ecclesiastical jurisdiction, not only by the regulations contained in the Interim, but by his attempt to reassemble the council at Trent, exasperated Paul to the utmost, 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, notwithstanding the hereditary enmity between him and Charles, and the jealousy 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 encroachments, 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 he reannexed 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 endeavored to surprise Parma, which attempt was frustrated by the fidelity of the governor to whom the pope had entrusted the defence of the town, he made overtures to the emperor, of renouncing all connection with the pope, and of depending entirely on him for his future fortune. This unexpected defection of one of the pope’s own family to an enemy whom he hated, irritated, almost to madness, a mind peevish with old age; and there was no degree et 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 carrying into execution the harsh resolutions which he had taken with respect to him, and put an end to his pontificate in the sixteenth year of his administration, and the eighty-second year of his age.

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 number, and had, by turns, the prospect of success. But as Paul, during a long pontificate, had 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, 1550], whom Paul had employed as his principal legate in the council of Trent, and trusted with his most secret intentions. He assumed the name of Julius III, and in order to express his gratitude towards his benefactor, the first act of his administration was to put Octavio 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 cardinals, he briskly replied, “That he would rather be a poor pope, with the reputation of a gentleman, than a rich one, with the infamy of having forgotten the obligations conferred upon him, and the promises which he had made”. But all the luster of this candor or generosity he quickly effaced by an action most shockingly indecent.

According to an ancient and established 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 disposed 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 superstition of the people emboldened ecclesiastics to venture on the most flagrant 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 character was everywhere abated, and one half of Christendom in open rebellion 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 passions. The protestants exclaimed against the absurdity of supposing that the infallible spirit of divine truth could dwell in a breast so impure, and called more loudly than ever, and with greater appearance of justice, for the immediate and thorough reformation of a church, the head of which was a disgrace to the Christian name. The rest of the pope’s conduct was of a piece with this first specimen of his dispositions. Having now reached the summit of ecclesiastical ambition, he seemed eager to indemnify himself, by an unrestrained indulgence of his desires, for the self-denial or dissimulation which he had thought it prudent to practice 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.

The pope, however, ready to fulfill 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 princes 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 accomplishing 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, in consequence of that persuasion, continued to solicit earnestly that a new bull of convocation 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 endeavored 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 lie 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 procure a more authentic act of the supreme court in the empire, acknowledging 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 authority with which he had given law in the empire during two years, knew that the spirit of independence among the Germans was not entirely subdued, and for that reason took care to overawe the diet by a considerable body of Spanish troops which escorted him thither. The first point submitted to the consideration of the diet, was the necessity of holding a council. All the popish members agreed, without difficulty, that the meeting of that assembly should be renewed at Trent, and promised an implicit acquiescence in its decrees. The protestants, intimidated and disunited, must have followed their example, and the resolution of the diet would have proved unanimous, if Maurice of Saxony had not begun at this time to disclose new intentions, and to act a part very different from that which he had so long assumed.

By an artful dissimulation of his own sentiments; by address in paying court to the emperor; and by the seeming zeal with which he forwarded all his ambitious schemes, Maurice had raised himself to the electoral dignity; and having added the dominions of the elder branch of the Saxon family to his own, he was become the most powerful prince in Germany. But his long and intimate union with the emperor had afforded him many opportunities of observing narrowly the dangerous tendency of that monarch's schemes. He saw the yoke that was preparing for his country; and from the rapid as well as formidable progress of the Imperial power, was convinced that but a few steps more remained to be taken, in order to render Charles as absolute a monarch in Germany as he had become in Spain. The more eminent the condition was to which he himself had been exalted, the more solicitous did Maurice naturally become to maintain all its rights and privileges, and the more did he dread the thoughts of 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 perceived that Charles was bent on exacting a rigid conformity to the doctrines and rites of the Romish church, instead of allowing liberty of conscience, the promise of which had allured several protestant princes to assist him in the war against the confederates of Smalkalde. As he himself, notwithstanding all the compliances which he had made from motives of interest, or an excess of confidence in the emperor, was sincerely attached to the Lutheran tenets, he determined not to be a tame spectator of the overthrow of a system which he believed to be founded in truth.

This resolution, flowing from 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 prospects 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 reanimate a body after he himself had been the chief instrument in breaking its union and vigor. These considerations were sufficient to have discouraged 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 suggested. Maurice, by his authority, had prevailed on the landgrave of Hesse to put his person in the emperor’s power, and had obtained a promise 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 Charles. The princes of Hesse incessantly required Maurice to fulfill his engagements to their father, who had lost his liberty by trusting to him; and all Germany suspected him of having betrayed, to an implacable enemy, the friend whom he was most bound to protect. Roused by these solicitations or reproaches, as well as prompted by duty and affection to his father-in-law, Maurice had employed not only entreaties but remonstrances in order to procure his release. All these Charles had disregarded; and the shame of having been first deceived, and then slighted, by a prince whom he had served with zeal as well as success, which merited a very different return, made such a deep impression on Maurice, that he waited with impatience for an opportunity of being revenged.

The utmost caution as well as the most delicate address 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 of 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 endeavored to render their obedience a voluntary, deed of their own. For this purpose, he had assembled the clergy of his country at Leipzig, 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 rigor with which obedience to the Interim was extorted in the neighboring provinces. Even Melanchthon, 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, the assembly was prevailed on to declare, “that, in points which were purely indifferent, obedience was due to the commands of a lawful superior”. Founding upon this maxim, no less incontrovertible in theory, than dangerous when carried into practice, especially in religious matters, many of the protestant ecclesiastics whom Maurice consulted, proceeded to class, among the number of things indifferent, several doctrines, which Luther had pointed out as gross and 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 provinces. But though the Saxons submitted, the more zealous Lutherans exclaimed against Melanchthon 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 color of probability his past conduct gave to those accusations, as well as afraid of losing entirely the confidence of the protestants, issued a declaration containing professions of his zealous attachment to the reformed religion, and of his resolution to guard against all the errors or encroachments of the papal see.

Having gone so far in order to remove the fears and jealousies of the protestants, he found it necessary to efface the impression which such a declaration might make upon the emperor. For that purpose, he not only renewed his professions of an inviolable adherence to his alliance with him, but as the city of Magdeburg still persisted in 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 declaration, and left them more than ever at a loss to guess at his real intentions. Their former suspicion and distrust of him revived, and the divines of Magdeburg filled Germany with writings in which they represented him as the most formidable enemy of the protestant religion, who treacherously assumed an appearance of zeal for its interest, that he might more effectually execute his schemes for its destruction.

This charge, supported by the evidence of recent facts, as well as by his present dubious conduct, gained such 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 ambassadors 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 reformers had ventured to make, even when the zeal of their party was warmest, or their affairs most prosperous, counterbalanced in some degree, the impression 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 historians 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 ardor, but to place the same confidence in Maurice, with regard to the execution of both.

The pope’s resolution concerning the council not being yet known at Augsburg, the chief business of the diet was to enforce the observation of the Interim. As the senate of Magdeburg, notwithstanding various endeavors to frighten or to soothe them into compliance, not only persevered obstinately in their opposition to the Interim, but began to strengthen the fortifications of their city, and to levy troops in their own defence, Charles required the diet to assist him in quelling this audacious rebellion against a decree of the empire. Had the members of the diet been left to act agreeably to their own inclination, this demand would have been rejected without hesitation. All the Germans who favored, 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 rigorous decrees, which Charles had issued by his own authority against the Magdeburgers, were confirmed; a resolution was taken to raise troops in order to besiege the city in form; and persons were named to fix the contingent in men or money to be furnished by each state. At the same time the diet petitioned that Maurice might be entrusted with the command of that army; to which Charles gave his consent with great alacrity, and with high encomiums upon the wisdom of the choice which they had made. As Maurice conducted all his schemes with profound and impenetrable secrecy, it is probable that he took no step avowedly in order to obtain this charge. The 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 recognized, 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 neighborhood of Trent, that he might protect the members of the council by his presence, and take care that by conducting their deliberations agreeably to scripture and the doctrine of the fathers, they might bring them to a desirable issue. In this recess, the observation of the Interim was more 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 perform what was contained in the bond which they had granted him, by surrendering themselves into their hands to be treated with the same rigor as the emperor had used film. 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 their incessant importunity, he endeavored to prevail on the landgrave to give up the bond which he had received from the two electors. But that prince refusing to part with a 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 Brandenburg 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 honor, and most formal obligations of public faith, had hitherto been formed by any but the Roman pontiffs, who, in consequence of their claim of supreme power on earth, arrogate the right of dispensing with precepts and duties of every kind. All Germany was filled with astonishment, when Charles assumed the same prerogative. The state of subjection, to which the empire was reduced, appeared to be more rigorous, as well as intolerable, than that of the most wretched and enslaved nations, if the emperor, by an arbitrary decree, might cancel those solemn contracts which are the foundation of that mutual 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 endeavored 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 favor his escape, were put to death, and he was confined in the citadel of Mechlin more closely than ever.

Character of Philip II

Another transaction was carried on during this diet, with respect to an affair more nearly interesting to the emperor, and which occasioned likewise a general alarm among the princes of the empire.

Charles, though formed with talents which fitted him for conceiving and conducting great designs, was not capable, as has been often observed, of bearing extraordinary success. Its operation on his mind was so violent and intoxicating, that it elevated him beyond what was moderate or attainable, and turned his whole attention to the pursuit of vast but chimerical objects. Such had been the effect of his victory over the confederates of Smalkalde. He did not long rest satisfied with the substantial and certain advantages which were the result of that event, but, despising these, as poor or inconsiderable fruits of such great success, he aimed at nothing less than at bringing all Germany to a uniformity in religion, and at rendering the Imperial power despotic. These were objects extremely splendid indeed, and alluring to an ambitious mind; the pursuit of them, however, was attended with manifest danger, and the hope of attaining them very uncertain. But the steps which he had already taken towards them, having been accompanied with such success, his imagination, warmed with contemplating this alluring object, overlooked or despised all remaining difficulties. As he conceived the execution of his plan to be certain, he began to be solicitous how he might render the possession of such an important acquisition perpetual in his family, by transmitting the German empire, together with the kingdoms of Spain, and his dominions in Italy and the Low-Countries, to his son. Having long revolved this flattering idea in his mind, without communicating it, even to those ministers whom he most trusted, he had called Philip out of Spain, in hopes that his presence would facilitate the carrying forward the scheme.

Great obstacles, however, and such as would have deterred any ambition less accustomed to overcome 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 favor of his nephew, the near prospect of the Imperial throne, which Charles’s infirmities and declining state of health opened to himself. This did not deter the emperor from venturing to make the proposition; and when Ferdinand, notwithstanding his profound reverence for his brother, and obsequious submission to his will in other instances, rejected it in a 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 disposition, had acquired an extraordinary influence over both the brothers. She entered warmly into a measure, which tended so manifestly to aggrandize the house of Austria, and flattering herself that she could tempt Ferdinand to renounce the reversionary possession of the Imperial dignity for an immediate establishment, she assured him that the emperor, by way of 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 Württemberg, 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 Ferdinand, 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 favorable ear to the proposal. But no sooner did he venture upon mentioning it to them, than they, at once saw and trembled at the consequences with which it would be attended. They had long felt all the inconveniences of having placed at the head of the empire a prince whose power and dominions were so extensive; if they should now repeat the folly, and continue the Imperial crown, like an hereditary dignity in the same family, they foresaw that they would give the son an opportunity of carrying on that system of oppression which the father had begun; and would put it in his power to overturn whatever was yet left entire in the ancient and venerable fabric of the German constitution.

The character of the prince, in whose favor this extraordinary proposition was made, rendered it still less agreeable. Philip, though possessed with an insatiable desire of power, was a stranger to all the arts of conciliating good will. Haughty, reserved, and severe, he, instead of gaining new friends, disgusted the ancient and most devoted partisans of the Austrian interest. He scorned to take the trouble of acquiring the language of the country to the government of which he aspired; nor would he condescend 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 demeanor, which the greatest of the German emperors, and even Charles himself, amidst the pride of power and victory, had never assumed. On the other hand, Ferdinand, from the time of his arrival in Germany, had studied to render himself acceptable to the people, by a conformity to their manners, which seemed to flow from choice; and his son Maximilian, who was born in Germany, possessed, in an eminent degree, such amiable qualities as rendered him the darling of his countrymen, and induced them to look forward to his election as a most desirable event. Their esteem and affection 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 ecclesiastical 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 his unseasonable perseverance in pushing it, he had not only filled the Germans with new jealousy of his ambitious designs, but laid the foundation 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 disappoint­ment, was sent back to Spain, to be called thence when any new scheme of ambition should render his presence necessary.

Having relinquished this plan of domestic ambition which had long occupied and engrossed him, Charles imagined that he would now have leisure to turn all his attention towards his grand scheme of establishing uniformity of religion in the empire, by forcing, all the contending parties to acquiesce in the decisions of the council of Trent. But such was the extent of his dominions, the variety of 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 duchy of Parma, during the first effusions of his joy and gratitude on his promotion to the papal throne, soon began to repent of his own generosity, and to be apprehensive of consequences which either he did not foresee, or had disregarded, while the sense of his obligations to the family of Farnese was recent. The emperor still retained Placentia in his hands, and had not relinquished his pretensions to Parma as a fief of the empire. 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 necessary, for his own safety, to increase the garrison of his capital, and to levy soldiers for defending the rest of the country. But as the expense of such an effort far exceeded his scanty revenues, he represented his situation to the pope, and implored that protection and assistance which was due to him as a vassal of the church. The Imperial minister, however, had already preoccupied 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 sonic 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 had hitherto diverted his attention from the affairs of the continent, to such an issue as he desired. This he had effected partly by the vigour of his arms, partly by his dexterity in taking advantage of the political factions which raged in both kingdoms to such a degree, as rendered the councils of the Scots violent and precipitate, and the operations of the English feeble and unsteady. He had procured from the English favorable conditions of peace for his allies the Scots; he had prevailed on the nobles of Scotland not only to affiance their young queen to his son the dauphin, but even to send her into France, that she might be educated under his eye; and had recovered Boulogne, together with its dependencies, which had been conquered by Henry VIII.

The French king having gained points of so much consequence to his crown, and disengaged himself with such honor from the burden of supporting the Scots, and maintaining a war against England, was now at full leisure to pursue the measures which his hereditary jealousy of the emperor’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 commenced 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 Palma 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 Parmesan; and the latter, after having begun to besiege Parma in form, were obliged to abandon the enterprise with disgrace.

But the motions and alarm which this war, or the 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 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 ecclesiastical state, or from Spain, together with a few Germans, convened. The session was opened with the accustomed formalities, and the fathers were about to proceed to business, when the abbot of Bellozane appeared, and presenting letters of credence as ambassador from the king of France, demanded audience. Having obtained it, he protested, in Henry’s name, against an assembly called at such an improper juncture, when a war, wantonly kindled by the pope, made it impossible for the deputies from the Gallican church to resort to Trent in safety, or to deliberate concerning articles of faith and discipline with the requisite tranquility; he declared, that his master did not acknowledge this to be a general or ecumenical 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 Württemberg, and other protestants, to attend the council and exhorted them to send their divines thither, in order to propound, explain, and defend their doctrine. At the same time, his zeal anticipated the decrees of the council; and as if the opinions of the protestants had already been condemned, he took large steps towards exterminating them. With this intention, he called together the ministers of Augsburg; and after interrogating them concerning several controverted points, enjoined them to teach nothing with respect to these contrary to the tenets of the Romish church. Upon their declining to comply with a requisition so contrary to the dictates of their consciences, he commanded them to leave the town in three days, without revealing to any person the cause of their banishment; he prohibited them to preach for the future in any province of the empire; and obliged them to take an oath that they would punctually obey these injunctions.

They were not the only victims to his zeal. The protestant clergy, in most of the cities in the circle of Swabia, were ejected with the same violence; and in many places, such magistrates as had distinguished themselves by their attachment to the new opinions, were dismissed with the most abrupt irregularity, and their offices filled, in consequence of the emperor's arbitrary appointment, with the most bigotted of their adversaries. The reformed worship was almost entirely suppressed throughout that extensive province. The ancient and fundamental privileges of the free cities were violated. The people were compelled to attend the ministration of priests, whom they regarded with horror as idolaters; and to submit to the jurisdiction of magistrates, whom they detested 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 constitution, as well as to extirpate the protestant religion, set out for Innsbruck in the Tyrol. He fixed his residence in that city [Novem.], as, by its situation in the neighborhood of Trent, and on the confines of Italy, it appeared a commodious station, whence he might inspect the operations of the council, and observe the progress of the war in the Parmesan without losing sight of such occurrences as might happen in Germany.

During these transactions, the siege of Magdeburg was carried on with various success. At the time when Charles proscribed the citizens of Magdeburg, and put them under the ban of the empire, he had exhorted and even enjoined all the neighboring states to take arms against them, as rebels arid 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 territories 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 establishment. The citizens, unaccustomed as yet to endure patiently the calamities of war, could not be restrained from sallying out in order to save their lands from being laid waste. They attacked the duke of Mecklenburg with more resolution than conduct, and were repulsed with great slaughter. But as they were animated with that unconquerable spirit, which flows from zeal for religion cooperating with the love of civil liberty, far from being disheartened by their misfortune, they prepared to defend themselves with vigour. 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 military skill by degrees, and added all the advantages of that to the efforts of undaunted courage. The duke of Mecklenburg, notwithstanding the severe blow which he had given the Magdeburgers, not daring to invest a town strongly fortified, and defended by such a garrison, continued to ravage the open country.

The Siege of Magdeburg

As the hopes of booty drew many adventurers to the camp of this young prince, Maurice of Saxony began to be jealous of the power which he possessed by being at the head of such a numerous body, and marching towards Magdeburg with his own troops, assumed the supreme command of the whole army, an honor 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, leveled 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 ardor which they had at first discovered; the troops of the besiegers acted with extreme remissness, repaving at everything that they suffered in a service which they disliked. They broke out more than once into an open mutiny, demanding the arrears of their pay, which, as the members of the Germanic body sent in their contributions towards defraying the expenses of the war sparingly, and with great reluctance, amounted to a considerable 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 disconcerted 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 communicated a scheme, which he had long revolved in his mind, for procuring liberty to his father-in-law the landgrave, for vindicating the privileges of the Germanic body, and setting bounds to the dangerous encroachments of the Imperial power.

Having deliberated with them concerning the measures which might be necessary for securing the success of such an arduous enterprise, he gave Mansfeldt secret assurances that the fortifications of Magdeburg should not be destroyed, and that the inhabitants should neither be disturbed in the exercise of their religion, nor be deprived of any of their ancient immunities. In order to engage Maurice more thoroughly: from considerations of interest to fulfill 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 fortitude, worthy of the cause in which it was exerted, had at last the good fortune to conclude a treaty which left them in a better condition than the rest of their countrymen, whom their timidity or want of 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 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 anything 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 immediately. He was afraid that it would give a premature alarm to the emperor, if he should retain such a considerable body in his pay until the season of action returned in the spring.

As soon then as Magdeburg opened its gates, he sent home his Saxon subjects, whom he could 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 suspicions 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 pre­sent security. As he knew that the chief object of the emperor’s solicitude at this juncture, was how he might prevail with the protestant states of Germany to recognize 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 Melanchthon 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 pro­bably in consequence of his solicitations, the duke of Württemberg, the city of Strasburg, and other protestant states, appointed ambassadors and divines to attend the council.

They all applied to the emperor for his safe-conduct, which they obtained in the most ample form. This was deemed sufficient for journey; security of the ambassadors, and they proceeded accordingly on their journey; but a separate safe-conduct from the council itself was demanded for the protestant divines. The fate of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, whom the council of Constance, in the preceding century, had condemned to the flames without regarding the Imperial safe-conduct which had been granted them, rendered this precaution prudent and necessary.

But as the pope was no less unwilling that the protestants should be admitted to a hearing in the council, than the emperor had been eager in bringing them to demand it, the legate by promises and threats prevailed on the fathers of the council to decline issuing a safe-conduct in the same form 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 form of the writ were proposed; expedients were suggested; protests and counter-protests were taken: the legate, together with his associates, labored to gain their point by artifice and chicane; the protestants adhered to theirs with firmness and obstinacy. An account of everything that passed in Trent was transmitted to the emperor at Innsbruck, 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 carry on his intrigues, and to finish his preparations, before he threw off the mask, and struck the blow which he had so long meditated.

Revolution in Hungary

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 magnanimity 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 of 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 coordinate 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 neighboring 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 from the calamities of a civil war, he secretly despatched one of his confidants to Vienna, and entered into a negotiation with Ferdinand. As it was no difficult matter to persuade Ferdinand, that the same man whose enmity and intrigues had driven him out of a great part of his Hungarian dominions, might, upon a reconciliation, become equally instrumental in recovering them, he listened eagerly to the first overtures of 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 favor, that Ferdinand, notwithstanding his truce with Solyman, agreed to invade Transylvania.

The command of the troops destined for that service, consisting of veteran Spanish and German soldiers, was given to 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 a safety. Martinuzzi did not suffer this favorable 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 conjured her, therefore, as she regarded her own dignity, the safety of her son, or the security of Christendom, rather to give up Transylvania to Ferdinand, and to make over to him her son's title to the crown of Hungary, than to allow both to be usurped by the inveterate enemy of the Christian faith. At the same time he promised her, in Ferdinand's name, a compensation for herself, as well as for her son, suitable to their rank, and proportional to the value of 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, particularly a crown of gold which, as the Hungarians believed, had descended from heaven, and conferred on him who wore it an undoubted right to the throne. As she could not bear to remain a private person in a country where she had once enjoyed sovereign power, she instantly set out 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 favor 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 appointments; he nominated him archbishop of Gran, and prevailed on the pope to raise him to the dignity of a cardinal.

All this ostentation of good-will, however, was void of sincerity, and calculated to conceal sentiments the most perfectly its reverse. Ferdinand dreaded Martinuzzi’s abilities; distrusted his fidelity; and foresaw, that as his extensive authority enabled him to check any attempt towards circumscribing or abolishing the extensive privileges which the Hungarian nobility possessed, he would stand forth on every occasion, the guardian of the liberties of his country, rather than act the part of a viceroy devoted to the will of his sovereign.

For this reason, he secretly gave it in charge to Castaldo to watch his motions, to guard against his designs, and to thwart his measures. But Martinuzzi, either because he did not perceive that Castaldo was 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 Ferdinand’s authority not only in Transylvania, but in the Bannat of Temeswar, and several of the countries adjacent. In carrying on these operations, he often differed in sentiment from Castaldo and his officers, and treated the Turkish prisoners with a degree not only of humanity, but even of generosity, 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 justification 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 everything that could endanger his own authority in Hungary, in proportion as he knew it to be precarious and ill-established.

These suspicions Castaldo confirmed and strengthened, by the intelligence which he transmitted continually to his confidants at Vienna. By misrepresenting what was innocent, and putting the worst construction on what seemed dubious in Martinuzzi’s conduct; by imputing to him designs which he never formed, and charging him with actions of which he was not guilty; he at last convinced Ferdinand, that, in order to preserve his Hungarian crown, he must cut off that ambitious prelate. But Ferdinand, foreseeing that it would be dangerous to proceed in the regular course of law against a subject of such exorbitant power as might enable him to set his sovereign at defiance, determined to employ violence in order to obtain that satisfaction which the laws were too feeble to afford him.

He issued his orders accordingly to Castaldo, who willingly undertook that infamous service. Having 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 dispatches which were to be sent off immediately to Vienna; and while he perused a paper with attention, one of their number struck him with 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 important services, nor reverence for a character considered as sacred and inviolable among Christians, could restrain from shedding the blood of a man, whose only crime was attachment to his native country. The nobles detesting the jealous as well as cruel policy of a court, which, upon uncertain and improbable surmises, had given up a poison, 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 bad expected from the removal of Martinuzzi, it was evident that his territories in Hungary were about to be attacked with greater vigour, and defended with less zeal than ever.

New League against Charles

By this time, Maurice having almost finished his intrigues and preparations, 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 resolution, 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 bad 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 duchy, but in Piedmont. Having terminated the war with England by a peace, no less advantageous to himself than honorable for his allies the Scots, the restless and enterprising courage of his nobles was impatient to display itself on some theatre of 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 command, Maurice should be acknowledged as head of the German confederates, with absolute authority in all military affairs; that Maurice and his associates should bring into the field seven thousand horse, with a proportional number of infantry; that, towards the subsistence of this army, during the three first months of the war, Henry should contribute two hundred and forty thousand crowns, and afterwards sixty thousand crowns a-month, as long as they continued in arms; that Henry should attack the emperor on the side of Lorrain with a powerful 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, sometime before Magdeburg surrendered, and the preparatory negotiations were conducted 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 rumor 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 them to grant him.

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 Innsbruck [Decem.].

After resuming, at great length, all the facts and arguments upon which they founded their claim, and representing, in the strongest terms, the peculiar engagements which bound them to be so assiduous in their solicitations, they renewed their request in behalf of the unfortunate prisoner, which they had so often preferred in vain. The elector palatine, the duke of Württemberg, the dukes of Mecklenburg, the dukes of Deux-Ponts, the marquis of Brandenburg Bareith, and the marquis of Baden, by their ambassadors, concurred with them in their suit. Letters were likewise delivered to the same effect from the king of Denmark, the duke of Bavaria, and the dukes of Lunenburg. Even the king of the Romans joined in this application, being moved with compassion towards the landgrave in his wretched situation, or influenced, perhaps, by a secret jealousy of his brother's power and designs, which, since his attempt to alter the order of succession in the empire, he had come to view with other eyes than formerly, and dreaded to a great degree.

But Charles, constant to his own system with regard to the landgrave, eluded a demand urged by such powerful intercessors; and having declared that he would communicate his resolution concerning the matter to Maurice as soon as he arrived at Innsbruck, where he was every day expected, he did not deign to descend into any more particular explication of his intentions. This application, though of no benefit to the landgrave, was of great advantage to Maurice. It served to justify his subsequent proceedings, and to demonstrate the necessity of employing 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 princes were drawn in to enforce it, led him to conclude that they placed all their hopes of restoring the landgrave to liberty, in gaining his consent to dismiss him.

1552] Maurice employed artifices still more refined to conceal his machinations, to amuse the emperor, and to gain time. He affected to be more solicitous than ever to find out some expedient for removing the difficulties wills 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 conferences concerning this matter 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 give credit to this opinion, he commanded Melanchthon, together with his brethren, to set out on their journey to Trent. At the same time he held a close correspondence with the Imperial court at Innsbruck, and renewed on every occasion his professions not only of fidelity but of attachment to the emperor. He talked continually of his intention of going to Innsbruck in person; he gave orders to hire a house for him in that city, and to fit it up with the greatest dispatch for his reception.

But profoundly skilled as Maurice was in the arts of deceit, and impenetrable 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 Maurice’s address; and the emperor would not, lightly, give up his confidence in a man, whom he had once trusted and loaded with favors. One particular alone seemed to be of such consequence, that he thought it necessary to demand an explanation with regard to it. The troops, which George of Mecklenburg had taken into pay after the capitulation of Magdeburg, having fixed their quarters in Thuringia, lived at discretion on the lands of the rich ecclesiastics in their neighborhood. 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 representing the impossibility of disbanding these troops, or of keeping them to regular discipline, unless the arrears still due to them by the emperor were paid, either removed the apprehensions which this had occasioned, or, as Charles was not in a condition to satisfy the demands of these soldiers, obliged him to be silent with regard to the matter.

The time of action was now approaching. Maurice had privately 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 he held the troops in Thuringia, on which he chiefly depended, ready to advance on a moment’s warning. All these complicated operations were carried on without being discovered by the court at Innsbruck and the emperor remained there in perfect tranquility, busied entirely in counteracting the intrigues of the pope's legate at Trent, and in settling the conditions on which the protestant divines should be admitted into the council, as if there had not been any transaction of greater moment in agitation.

This credulous security in a prince, who, by his sagacity in observing the conduct of all around him, was 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 Innsbruck, with an increase of violence; and his constitution being broken by such frequent attacks, he was seldom able to exert his natural vigour of mind, or to consider affairs with his usual vigilance and penetration; and Granvelle, bishop of Arras, his prime minister, though one of the most subtle statesmen of 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 Germans in such contempt, that he despised all the intimations given him concerning Maurice's secret machinations, or the dangerous designs which he was carrying on. When the duke of Alva, whose dark suspicious mind harbored 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 information 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 Innsbruck such accounts as possessed Granvelle with a firm belief of his sincerity as well as good intentions. The emperor himself, in the fullness of security, was so little moved by a memorial, in the name of the ecclesiastical electors, admonishing him to be on his guard against Maurice, that he made 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.

At last Maurice's preparations were completed, and he had the satisfaction to find that his intrigues and designs were still unknown. But, though now ready to take the field, he did not lay aside the arts which he had hitherto employed; and by one piece of craft more, he deceived his enemies a few days longer. He gave out, that he was about to begin that journey to Innsbruck of which he had so often talked, and he took one of the ministers whom Granvelle had bribed, to attend him thither. After travelling post a few stages, he pretended to be indisposed by the fatigue of the journey, and dispatching the suspected minister to make his apology to the emperor for this delay, and to assure him that he would be at Innsbruck 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 18].

At the same time he published a manifesto containing his reasons for taking arms.

These were three in number: that he might secure the protestant religion, which was threatened with immediate destruction; that he might maintain the constitution and laws of the empire, and save Germany from being subjected to the dominion of an 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 favorers of the reformation, a party formidable by their zeal as well as numbers, and rendered 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 fulfill 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 rigor 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 mentioning 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 reestablish 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 1], 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 of a formidable army, while he, through negligence and credulity, which exposed him no less to scorn than to danger, had neither made, nor was in a condition 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 duchy of Parma. The bands of veteran Germans had been dismissed, because he was not able to pay them; or had entered into Maurice’s service after the siege of Magdeburg; and he remained at Innsbruck 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 undoubtedly the most considerable potentate in Christendom, and capable of exerting the greatest strength, his power, notwithstanding the violent 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 present 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 subjects 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 Ferdinand in the town of Lintz in Austria; and having left his army to proceed on its march under the command of the duke of Mecklenburg, he repaired thither.

Meanwhile the king of France punctually fulfilled his engagements to 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 prince, too haughty to submit, at once, to conditions dictated by an enemy. But, 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 proposed 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. He put his troops in motion next morning; and as sixteen days yet remained for action before the commencement of the truce, he resolved during that period, to venture upon an enterprise, the success of which would be so decisive, as to render the negotiations at Passau extremely short, and entitle him to treat upon his own terms. He foresaw that the prospect of a cessation of arms, which was to take place so soon, together with the opinion of his earnestness to re-establish peace, with which he had artfully amused Ferdinand, could hardly fail of inspiring the emperor with such false hopes, that he would naturally become remiss, and relapse into some degree of that security which had already been so fatal to him. Relying on this conjecture, he marched directly at the head of his army towards Innsbruck, and advanced with the most rapid motion that could be given to so great a body of troops. On the eighteenth, he arrived at Fiessen, a post of great consequence, at the entrance into the Tyrolese. There he found a body of eight hundred men, whom the emperor had assembled, strongly entrenched, 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 Mecklenburg, was instantly ordered to follow this guide. They set out in the evening, and clambering up the rugged track with infinite fatigue as well as danger, they reached the 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, immediately threw down their arms. Maurice, almost without bloodshed, and, which was of greater consequence to him, without loss of time, took possession of a place, the reduction of which might have retarded him long, and have required the utmost efforts of his valor and skill.

Maurice was now only two days march from Innsbruck, 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 of mercenaries mutinied, declaring that they would not stir until they had received the gratuity, which, according to the custom of that age, they claimed as the recompense due to them for having taken a place by assault. It was with great difficulty, as well as danger, and not without some considerable loss of time, that Maurice quieted this insurrection, and prevailed on the soldiers to follow him to a place where he promised them such rich booty as would be an ample reward for all their services

To the delay, occasioned by this unforeseen accident, the emperor owed his safety. He was informed of the approaching danger late in the evening, and knowing that nothing could save him but a speedy flight, he instantly left Innsbruck, without regarding the darkness of the night, or the violence of the rain which happened to fall at that time; and notwithstanding 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 conqueror of Germany, he arrived at length with his dejected train at Villach in Carinthia, and scarcely thought himself secure even at that remote inaccessible corner.

Maurice entered Innsbruck a few hours after the emperor and his attendants 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 everything belonging to the king of the Romans, either because he had formed some friendly connection with that prince, or because he wished to have it believed that such a connection subsisted between them. As there now remained only three days to the commencement of the truce, (with such nicety had Maurice calculated his operations), he set out for Passau, that he might meet Ferdinand on the day appointed.

Before Charles left Innsbruck, he withdrew the guards placed on the degraded elector of Saxony, whom, during five years, he had carried about with him as a prisoner, and set him entirely at liberty, either with an intention to 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 the final decision of his fate from the treaty which was now approaching.

These were not the only effects which Maurice’s operations produced. It was no sooner known at Trent that he had taken arms, than a general consternation seized the fathers of the council. The German prelates immediately returned home, that they might provide for the safety of their 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 protestant divines, laid hold with joy on such a plausible pretext for dismissing an assembly, which he had found it so difficult to govern. In a congregation 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 prorogation, 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

History of the council of Trent

The convocation of this assembly had been passionately desired by all the states and princes in Christendom who, from the wisdom as well as piety of prelates representing the whole body of the faithful, expected some charitable and efficacious endeavors towards composing the dissensions which unhappily had arisen in the church.

But the several popes by whose authority it was called, had other objects in view. They exerted all their power or policy to attain these; and by the abilities as well as address of their legates, by the ignorance of many of the prelates, and by the servility of the indigent Italian bishops, acquired such influence in the council, that they dictated all its decrees, and framed them not with an intention to restore unity and concord to the church, but to establish their own dominion, or to confirm those tenets, upon which they imagined that dominion to be founded. Doctrines which had hitherto been admitted upon the credit of tradition alone, and received with some latitude of interpretation, were defined with a scrupulous nicety, and confirmed by the sanction of 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 perspicuity, 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 labors 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 candor.

Vargas, a Spanish doctor of laws, who was appointed to attend the Imperial ambassadors at Trent, sent the bishop of Arras a regular account of the transactions there, explaining all the arts which the legate employed to influence or overawe the council. His letters have been published in which he inveighs against the papal court with that asperity of censure, which was natural to a man whose situation enabled him to observe its intrigues thoroughly, and who was obliged to exert all his attention and talents in order to disappoint them.

But whichsoever of these authors an intelligent person takes for his guide, in forming a judgment concerning the spirit of the council, he must discover so much ambition as well as artifice among some of the members; so much ignorance and corruption among others; he must observe such a large infusion of human policy and passions, mingled with such a scanty portion of that simplicity of heart, sanctity of 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 extraordinary influence of the Holy Ghost hovered over this assembly, and dictated its decrees.

While Maurice was employed in negotiating with the king of the Romans at Lintz, or in making war on the emperor in the Tyrol, the French king had advanced into Alsace as far as Strasburg; and having demanded leave of the senate to march through the city, he hoped that, by repeating the same fraud which he had practised at Metz, he might render himself master of the place, and by that means secure a passage over the Rhine into the heart of Germany. But the Strasburgers, instructed and put on their guard by the credulity and misfortune of their neighbors, shut their gates; and having assembled a garrison of five thousand soldiers, repaired their fortifications, razed the houses in their suburbs, and determined to defend themselves to the utmost. At the same time they sent a deputation of their most respectable citizens to the king, in order to divert him from making any hostile attempt upon them. The electors of Treves and Cologne, the duke of Cleves, and other princes in the neighborhood, interposed in their behalf; beseeching Henry that he would not forget so soon the title which he had generously assumed; and instead of being the deliverer of Germany, become its oppressor. The Swiss Cantons seconded them with zeal, soliciting Henry to spare a city which had long been connected 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. But, in that age, the method of subsisting numerous armies at a distance from the frontiers of their own country, was imperfectly understood, 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 provision, 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 entrusted 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 confederates.

He endeavored to spread the terror of his arms by the rapidity of his motions, as well as the extent and rigor of his devastations; 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 labored 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 seat of his power. But, finding these cities on their guard, and in a condition to resist his attacks, he turned all his rage against the popish ecclesiastics, whose territories he plundered with such wanton and merciless barbarity as gave them a very unfavorable impression of the spirit of that reforma­tion in religion, with zeal for which he pretended to be animated. The bishops of Bambergh and Würzburg, by their situation, lay particularly exposed to his ravages; he obliged the former to transfer to him, in property, almost one half of his extensive diocese; and compelled the latter to advance a great sum of money in order to save his territories from ruin and desolation. During all those wild 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 emolument, without any solicitude about the common cause, or the general objects which had induced them to take arms.

Maurice having ordered his army to march back into Bavaria, and having published a proclamation enjoining the Lutheran clergy and instructers of youth, to resume the exercise of their functions, in all the cities, schools, and universities from which they had been ejected, met Ferdinand at Passau on the twenty-sixth day of May. As matters of the greatest 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 Salzburg 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 exercise 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, beseeching him to deliver Germany from the calamities of a civil war, by giving such satisfaction to Maurice and his party as might induce them to lay down their arms; and at the same time they prevailed upon Maurice to grant a prolongation of the truce for a short time, during which they undertook to procure the emperor's final answer to his demands.

This request was presented to the emperor in the name of all the princes of the empire, popish as well as protestant, in the name of such as had lent a helping hand to forward his ambitious schemes, as well as of those who had viewed the progress of his power with jealousy and dread. The uncommon and cordial unanimity with which they concurred at this juncture 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 emperor alone, and the more complete any victory proved which they should gain, the faster would they bind their own fetters, and render them the more intolerable.

These reflections made them cautious how they contributed a second time, by their indiscreet zeal, to put the emperor in possession of power which would be fatal to the liberties of their country. Notwithstanding the intolerant spirit of bigotry in that age, they chose rather that the protestants should acquire that security for their religion which they demanded, than by assisting Charles to oppress them, to give such additional force to the Imperial prerogative, as would overturn the constitution of the empire. To all these considerations, the dread of seeing Germany laid waste by a civil war added new force. Many states of the empire already felt the destruc­tive rage of Albert's arms, others dreaded it, and all wished for an accommodation 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 confederates 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 supply 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 service in the present exigency of his affairs. His treasury was drained; his veteran forces were dispersed or disbanded, and he could not depend much either on the fidelity or courage of the new levied soldiers whom he was collecting. There was no hope of repeating with success the same artifices which had weakened and ruined the Smalkaldic league. As the end at which he aimed was now known, he could no longer employ the specious pretexts which had formerly concealed his ambitious designs. Every prince in Germany was alarmed and on his guard; and it was vain to think of blinding them a second time to such a degree, as to make one part of them instruments to enslave the other. The spirit of a confederacy whereof Maurice was the head, experience had taught him to be very different from that of the league of Smalkalde; and from what he had already felt, he had no reason to flatter 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 favorable 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 malcontent 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 solicita­tions of the French king, as well as stimulated by resentment against Ferdinand for having violated the truce in Hungary, had prepared a powerful fleet to ravage the coasts of Naples and Sicily, which he had left almost defenseless, 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 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 ambitious prince would immediately resume, with increased eagerness, and with a better chance of success, his favorite 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 confederates could have employed to urge their claims, and there was hardly anything that they could have demanded which he would not have chosen to grant, rather than have retarded a 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 of the emperor's temper, together with his unwillingness at once to relinquish objects which he had long pursued with such earnestness and assiduity, counterbalanced, for some time, the force of all the motives which disposed him to peace, and not only put that event at a distance, but seemed to render it uncertain. When Maurice's demands, together with the letter of the mediators at Passau, were presented to him, he peremptorily refused to redress the grievances 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 repa­ration should be made to all who, during the present war, had suffered either by the licentiousness of the confederate troops, or the exactions of their leaders.

Maurice, who was well acquainted with the emperor's arts, immediately concluded that he had nothing in view by these overtures but to arouse 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 Teutonic 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 neighboring 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 carried on his approaches against the town, gave such an alarm to the emperor, as disposed him to lend a more favorable ear to Ferdinand's arguments in behalf of an accommodation. Firm and haughty as his nature was, he found it necessary to bend, and signified his willingness to make concessions on his part, if Maurice, in return, would abate somewhat of the rigor of his demands. Ferdinand, as soon as he perceived that his brother began to yield, 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 endeavors 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.

The Treaty of Passau

Maurice, notwithstanding the prosperous situation of his affairs, was strongly inclined to listen to this advice.

The emperor, though over­reached and surprised, had now begun to assemble troops, and however slow his motions might be, while the first effects of his consternation remained, he was sensible that Charles must at last act with vigor proportional 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 himself 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 subordination. 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 honors and dominions, the emperor had it in his power to wound him in the most tender part. The efforts of a prince beloved by his ancient sub­jects, and revered by all the protestant party, in order to recover what had been unjustly taken from him, could hardly have failed of exciting commotions in Saxony, which would endanger all that he had acquired at the expense of so much dissimulation and artifice. It was no less in the emperor's power to render vain all the solicitations of the confederates in behalf of the landgrave. He had only to add one act of violence more to the injustice and rigor with which he had already treated him; and he had accordingly threatened the sons of that unfortunate prince, that if they persisted in their present enterprise, instead of seeing their father restored to liberty, they should hear of his having suffered the punishment which his rebellion had merited.

Having deliberated upon all these points with his 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 want. 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 Rheinfels;

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 meantime, neither the emperor, nor any other prince, shall upon any pretext whatever, offer any injury or violence to such as adhered to the confession of Augsburg, but allow them to enjoy the free and undisturbed exercise of their religion;

That, 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 if the next diet should not be able to terminate the disputes with regard to religion, the stipulations in the present treaty in behalf of the protestants shall continue forever in full force and vigour;

That none of the confederates shall be liable to any action on account of what had happened during the course of the war;

That the consideration of those encroachments which had been made, as Maurice pretended, upon the constitution and liberties of the empire, shall be remitted to the 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 established the protestant church, which had hitherto subsisted precariously in Germany, through connivance, or by expedients, upon a firm and secure basis. Maurice reaped all the glory of having concerted and completed this unexpected revolution. It is a singular circumstance, that the reformation should be indebted for its security and full establishment in Germany, to the same hand which had brought it to the brink of destruction, and that both events should have been accomplished by the same arts of dissimulation. The ends, however, which Maurice had in view, at those different junctures, seem to have been more attended to than the means by which he attained them; and he was now as universally extolled for his zeal and public spirit as he had lately been condemned for his indifference and interested policy. It is no less worthy of observation, that the French king, a monarch zealous for the catholic faith, should employ his power in order to protect and maintain the reformation in the empire, at the very time when he was persecuting his own protestant subjects with all the fierceness of bigotry, and that the league for this purpose, which proved so fatal to the Romish church, should be negotiated and signed by a Roman catholic bishop.

So wonderfully does the wisdom of God superintend and regulate the caprice of 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 they 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 that 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 abandoned their protector.

But how much soever Henry might he enraged at the perfidy of his allies, or at the impatience with which they hastened to make their peace with the emperor, at his expense, he was perfectly sensible that it was more his interest to keep well with the Germanic body, than to resent the indignities offered him by any particular members of it. For that reason, he dismissed the hostages which he had received from Maurice and his associates, and affected to talk in the same strain as formerly, concerning his zeal for maintaining the ancient constitution and liberties of the empire.

BOOK XI.  

ABDICATION OF CHARLES V