BOOK VII.

THE COUNCIL OF TRENT

 

 

The calamities which the emperor suffered in his unfortunate enterprise against Algiers were great; and the account of these, which augmented in proportion as it spread at a greater distance from the scene of his disasters, encouraged Francis to begin hostilities, on which he had been for some time resolved. But he did not think it prudent to produce as the motives of this resolution either his ancient pretensions to the duchy of Milan or the emperor’s disingenuity in violating his repeated promises with regard to the restitution of that country. The former might have been a good reason against concluding the truce of Nice, but was none for breaking it; the latter could not be urged without exposing his own credulity as much as the emperor’s want of integrity. A violent and unwarrantable action of one of the imperial generals furnished him with a reason sufficient to justify his taking arms, which was of greater weight than either of these, and such as would have roused him if he had been as desirous of peace as he was eager for war. Francis, by signing the treaty of truce at Nice without consulting Solyman, gave (as he foresaw) great offence to that haughty monarch, who considered an alliance with him as an honor of which a Christian prince had cause to be proud. The friendly interview of the French king with the emperor in Provence, followed by such extraordinary appearances of union and confidence which distinguished the reception of Charles when he passed through the dominions of Francis to the Low Countries, induced the sultan to suspect that the two rivals had at last forgotten their ancient enmity in order that they might form such a general confederacy against the Ottoman power as had been long wished for in Christendom and often attempted in vain. Charles, with his usual art, endeavored to confirm and strengthen these suspicions, by instructing his emissaries at Constantinople, as well as in those courts with which Solyman held any intelligence, to represent the concord between him and Francis to be so entire that their sentiments, views, and pursuits would be the same for the future. It was not without difficulty that Francis effaced these impressions; but the address of Rincon, the French ambassador at the Porte, together with the manifest advantage of carrying on hostilities against the house of Austria in concert with France, prevailed at length on the sultan not only to banish his suspicions, but to enter into a closer conjunction with Francis than ever. Rincon returned into France, in order to communicate to his master a scheme of the sultan’s for gaining the concurrence of the Venetians in their operations against the common enemy. Solyman, having lately concluded a peace with that republic, to which the mediation of Francis and the good offices of Rincon had greatly contributed, thought it not impossible to allure the senate by such advantages as, together with the example of the French monarch, might overbalance any scruples, arising either from decency or caution, that could operate on the other side. Francis, warmly approving of this measure, despatched Rincon back to Constantinople, and, directing him to go by Venice along with Fregoso, a Genoese exile, whom he appointed his ambassador to that republic, empowered them to negotiate the matter with the senate, to whom Solyman had sent an envoy for the same purpose. The marquis del Guasto, governor of the Milanese, an officer of great abilities, but capable of attempting and executing the most atrocious designs, got intelligence of the motions and destinations of these ambassadors. As he knew how much his master wished to discover the intentions of the French king, and of what consequence it was to retard the execution of his measures, he employed some soldiers belonging to the garrison of Pavia to lie in wait for Rincon and Fregoso as they sailed down the Po, who murdered them and most of their attendants and seized their papers. Upon receiving an account of this barbarous outrage, committed during the subsistence of a truce, against persons held sacred by the most uncivilized nations, Francis’s grief for the unhappy fate of two servants whom he loved and trusted, his uneasiness at the interruption of his schemes by their death, and every other passion, were swallowed up and lost in the indignation which this insult on the honor of his crown excited. He exclaimed loudly against Guasto, who, having drawn upon himself all the infamy of assassination without making any discovery of importance, as the ambassadors had left their instructions and other papers of consequence behind them, now boldly denied his being accessory in any wise to the crime. He sent an ambassador to the emperor, to demand suitable reparation for an indignity which no prince, how inconsiderable or pusillanimous soever, could tamely endure; and when Charles, impatient at that time to set out on his African expedition, endeavored to put him off with an evasive answer, he appealed to all the courts in Europe, setting forth the heinousness of the injury, the spirit of moderation with which he had applied for redress, and the iniquity of the emperor in disregarding this just request.

Notwithstanding the confidence with which Guasto asserted his own innocence, the accusations of the French gained greater credit than all his protestations; and Bellay, the French commander in Piedmont, procured at length, by his industry and address, such a minute detail of the transaction, with the testimony of so many of the parties concerned, as amounted almost to a legal proof of the marquis’s guilt. In consequence of this opinion of the public, confirmed by such strong evidence, Francis’s complaints were universally allowed to be well founded; and the steps which he took towards renewing hostilities were ascribed not merely to ambition or resentment, but to the unavoidable necessity of vindicating the honor of his crown.

However just Francis might esteem his own cause, he did not trust so much to that as to neglect the proper precautions for gaining other allies besides the sultan, by whose aid he might counterbalance the emperor’s superior power. But his negotiations to this effect were attended with very little success. Henry VIII, eagerly bent at that time upon schemes against Scotland, which he knew would at once dissolve his union with France, was inclinable rather to take part with the emperor than to contribute in any degree towards favoring the operations against him. The pope adhered inviolably to his ancient system of neutrality. The Venetians, notwithstanding Solyman’s solicitations, imitated the pope’s example. The Germans, satisfied with the religious liberty which they enjoyed, found it more their interest to gratify than to irritate the emperor; so that the kings of Denmark and Sweden, who on this occasion were first drawn in to interest themselves in the quarrels of the more potent monarchs of the south, and the duke of Cleves, who had a dispute with the emperor about the possession of Gueldres, were the only confederates whom Francis secured. But the dominions of the two former lay at such a distance, and the power of the latter was so inconsiderable, that he gained little by their alliance.

But Francis, by vigorous efforts of his own activity, supplied every defect. Being afflicted at this time with a distemper which was the effect of his irregular pleasures and which prevented his pursuing them with the same licentious indulgence, he applied to business with more than his usual industry. The same cause which occasioned this extraordinary attention to his affairs rendered him morose and dissatisfied with the ministers whom he had hitherto employed. This accidental peevishness being sharpened by reflecting on the false steps into which he had lately been betrayed, as  well as the insults to which he had been exposed, some of those in whom he had usually placed the greatest confidence felt the effects of this change in his temper, and were deprived of their offices. At last he disgraced Montmorency himself, who had long directed affairs, as well civil as military, with all the authority of a minister no less beloved than trusted by his master; and, Francis being fond of showing that the fall of such a powerful favorite did not affect the vigor or prudence of his administration, this was a new motive to redouble his diligence in preparing to open the war by some splendid and extraordinary effort.

He accordingly brought into the field five armies. One to act in Luxembourg, under the duke of Orleans, accompanied by the duke of Lorraine as his instructor in the art of war. Another, commanded by the dauphin, marched towards the frontiers of Spain. A third, led by Van Rossem, the marshal of Gueldres, and composed chiefly of the troops of Cleves, had Brabant allotted for the theatre of its operations. A fourth, of which the duke of Vendome was general, hovered on the holders of Flanders. The last, consisting of the forces cantoned in Piedmont, was destined for the Admiral Annebaut. The dauphin and his brother were appointed to command where the chief exertions were intended and the greatest honor to be reaped; the army of the former amounted to forty thousand, that of the latter to thirty thousand men. Nothing appears more surprising than that Francis did not pour with these numerous and irresistible armies into the Milanese, which had so long been the object of his wishes as well as enterprises, and that he should choose rather to turn almost his whole strength into another direction and towards new conquests. But the remembrance of the disasters which he had met with in his former expeditions into Italy, together with the difficulty of supporting a war carried on at such a distance from his own dominions, had gradually abated his violent inclination to obtain footing in that country, and made him willing to try the fortune of his arms in another quarter. At the same time he expected to make such a powerful impression on the frontier of Spain, where there were few towns of any strength, and no army assembled to oppose him, as might enable him to recover possession of the country of Roussillon, lately dismembered from the French crown, before Charles could bring into the field any force able to obstruct his progress. The necessity of supporting his ally the duke of Cleves, and the hope of drawing a considerable body of soldiers out of Germany by his means, determined him to act with vigor in the Low Countries.

The dauphin and duke of Orleans opened the campaign much about the same time, the former laying siege to Perpignan, the capital of Roussillon, and the latter entering Luxembourg. The duke of Orleans pushed his operations with the greatest rapidity and success, one town falling after another, until no place in that large duchy remained in the emperor’s hands but Thionville. Nor could he have failed of overrunning the adjacent provinces with the same ease, if he had not voluntarily stopped short in this career of victory. But, a report prevailing that the emperor had determined to hazard a battle in order to save Perpignan, on a sudden the duke, prompted by youthful ardor, or moved, perhaps, by jealousy of his brother, whom he both envied and hated, abandoned his own conquest, and hastened towards Roussillon, in order to divide with him the glory of the victory.

On his departure, some of his troops were disbanded, others deserted their colors, and the rest, cantoned in the towns which he had taken, remained inactive. By this conduct, which leaves a dishonorable imputation either on his understanding or his heart, or on both, he not only renounced whatever he could have hoped from such a promising commencement of the campaign, but gave the enemy an opportunity of recovering, before the end of summer, all the conquests which he had gained. On the Spanish frontier, the emperor was not so inconsiderate as to venture on a battle, the loss of which might have endangered his kingdom. Perpignan, though poorly fortified and briskly attacked, having been largely supplied with ammunition and provisions by the vigilance of Doria, was defended so long and so vigorously by the duke of Alva, the persevering obstinacy of whose temper fitted him admirably for such a service, that at last the French, after a siege of three months, wasted by diseases, repulsed in several assaults, and despairing of success, relinquished the undertaking and retired into their own country. Thus all Francis’s mighty preparations, either from some defect in his own conduct or from the superior power and prudence of his rival, produced no effects which bore any proportion to his expense and efforts, or such as gratified in any degree his own hopes or answered the expectation of Europe. The only solid advantage of the campaign was the acquisition of a few towns in Piedmont, which Bellay gained rather by stratagem and address than by force of arms.

 

1543. CHARLES GET READY TO STRIKE BACK

 

The emperor and Francis, though both considerably exhausted by such great but indecisive efforts, discovering no abatement of their mutual animosity, employed all their attention, tried every expedient, and turned themselves towards every quarter, in order to acquire new allies, together with such a reinforcement of strength as would give them the superiority in the ensuing campaign.

Charles, taking advantage of the terror and resentment of the Spaniards, upon the sudden invasion of their country, prevailed on the Cortes of the several kingdoms to grant him subsidies with a more liberal hand than usual. At the same time he borrowed a huge sum from John king of Portugal, and, by way of security for his repayment, put him in possession of the Molucca isles in the East Indies, with the gainful commerce of precious spices, which that sequestered corner of the globe yield. Not satisfied with this, he negotiated a marriage between Philip his only son, now in his sixteenth year, and Mary, daughter of that monarch, with whom her father, the most opulent prince in Europe, gave a large dower; and having likewise persuaded the Cortes of Aragon and Valencia to recognize Philip as the heir of these crowns, he obtained from them the donative usual on such occasions. These extraordinary supplies enabled him to make such additions to his forces in Spain that he could detach a great body into the Low-Countries, and yet reserve as many as were sufficient for the defence of the kingdom.

Having thus provided for the security of Spain, and committed the government of it to his son, he sailed for Italy [May], in his way to Germany. But how attentive soever to raise the funds for carrying on the war, or eager to grasp at any new expedient for that purpose, he was not so inconsiderate as to accept of an overture which Paul, knowing his necessities, artfully threw out to him. That ambitious pontiff, no less sagacious to discern, than watchful to seize opportunities of aggrandizing his family, solicited him to grant Octavio his grandchild, whom the emperor had admitted to the honor of being his son-in-law, the investiture of the duchy of Milan, in return for which he promised such a sum of money as would have gone far towards supplying all his present exigencies. But Charles, as well from unwillingness to alienate a province of so much value, as from disgust at the pope, who had hitherto refused to join in the war against Francis, rejected the proposal.

His dissatisfaction with Paul at that juncture was so great, that he even refused to approve his alienating Parma and Placentia from the patrimony of St. Peter, and settling them on his son and grandson as a fief to be held of the holy see. As no other expedient for raising money among the Italian states remained, he consented to withdraw the garrisons which he had hitherto kept in the citadels of Florence and Leghorn; in consideration for which he received a large present from Cosmo di Medici, who by this means secured his own independence, and got possession of two forts, which were justly called the fetters of Tuscany.

But Charles, while he seemed to have turned his whole attention towards raising the sums necessary for defraying the expenses of the year, had not been negligent of objects more distant, though no less important, and had concluded a league offensive and defensive with Henry VIII, from which he derived, in the end, greater advantage than from all his other preparations. Several slight circumstances which have already been mentioned, had begun to alienate the affections of that monarch from Francis, with whom he had been for some time in close alliance; and new incidents of greater moment had occurred to increase his disgust and animosity. Henry, desirous of establishing an uniformity in religion in both the British kingdoms, as well as fond of making proselytes to his own opinions, had formed a scheme of persuading his nephew the king of Scots to renounce the pope’s supremacy, and to adopt the same system of reformation, which he had introduced into England. This measure he pursued with his usual eagerness and impetuosity, making such advantageous offers to James, whom he considered as not over scrupulously attached to any religious tenets, that he hardly doubted of success. His propositions were accordingly received in such a manner, that he flattered himself with having gained his point. But the Scottish ecclesiastics, foreseeing how fatal the union of their sovereign with England must prove both to their own power, and to the established system of religion; and the partisans of France, no less convinced that it would put an end to the influence of that crown upon the public councils of Scotland; combined together, and by their insinuations defeated Henry’s scheme at the very moment when he expected it to have taken effect. 

Too haughty to brook such a disappointment, which he imputed as much to the arts of the French, as to the levity of the Scottish monarch, he took arms against Scotland, threatening to subdue the kingdom, since he could not gain the friendship of its king. At the same time, his resentment against Francis quickened his negotiations with the emperor, an alliance with whom he was now as forward to accept as the other could be to offer it. During this war with Scotland, and before the conclusion of his negotiations with Charles, James V died, leaving his crown to Mary his only daughter, an infant of a few days old. Upon this event, Henry altered at once his whole system with regard to Scotland, and abandoning all thoughts of conquering it, aimed at what was more advantageous as well as more practicable, a union with that kingdom by a marriage between Edward his only son and the young queen. But here, too, he apprehended a vigorous opposition from the French faction in Scot­land, which began to bestir itself in order to thwart the measure. The necessity of crushing this party among the Scots, and of preventing Francis from furnishing them any effectual aid, confirmed Henry's resolution of breaking with France, and pushed him on to put a finishing hand to the treaty of confederacy with the emperor.

In this league [Feb. 11] were contained first of all, articles for securing their future amity and mutual defence; then were enumerated the demands which they were respectively to make upon Francis; and the plan of their operations was fixed, if he should refuse to grant them satisfaction. They agreed to require that Francis should not only renounce his alliance with Solyman, which had been the source of infinite calamities to Christendom but also that he should make reparation for the damages which that unnatural union had occasioned; that he should restore Burgundy to the emperor, that he should desist immediately from hostilities, and leave Charles at leisure to oppose the common enemy of the Christian faith; and that he should immediately pay the sums due to Henry, or put some towns in his hands as security to that effect. If, within forty days, he did not comply with these demands, they then engaged to invade France each with twenty-thousand foot and five thousand horse, and not lay down their arms until they had recovered Burgundy, together with the towns on the Somme, for the emperor, and Normandy and Guienne, or even the whole realm of France, for Henry. Their heralds, accordingly, set out with these haughty requisitions; and though they were not permitted to enter France, the two monarchs held themselves fully entitled to execute whatever was stipulated in their treaty.

Francis, on his part, was not less diligent in preparing for the approaching campaign. Having early observed symptoms of Henry’s disgust and alienation, and finding all his endeavors to soothe and reconcile him ineffectual, he knew his temper too well not to expect that open hostilities would quickly follow upon this secession of friendship.

For this reason he redoubled his endeavors to obtain from Solyman such aid as might counterbalance the great accession of strength which the emperor would receive by his alliance with England. In order to supply the place of the two ambassadors murdered by Guasto, he sent as his envoy, first to Venice, and then to Constantinople, Paulin, who, though in no higher rank than a captain of foot, was deemed worthy of being raised to this important station, to which he was recommended by Bellay, who had trained him to the arts of negotiation, and made trial of his address and talents on several occasions.

Nor did he belie the opinion conceived of his courage and abilities. Hastening to Constantinople, without regarding the dangers to which he was exposed, he urged his master’s demands with such boldness, and availed himself of every circumstance with such dexterity, that be soon removed all the sultan’s difficulties. As some of the bashaws, swayed either by their own opinion, or influenced by the emperor's emissaries, who had made their way even into this court, had declared in the divan against acting in concert with France, he found means either to convince or silence them. At last he obtained orders for Barbarossa to sail with a powerful fleet, and to regulate all his operations by the directions of the French king. Francis was not equally successful in his attempts to gain the princes of the empire.

The extraordinary rigor with which he thought it necessary to punish such of his subjects as had embraced the protestant opinions, in order to give some notable evidence of his own zeal for the catholic faith, and to wipe off the imputations to which he was liable from his confederacy with the Turks, placed an insuperable barrier between him and such of join Germans as interest or inclination would have prompted most readily to him. His chief advantage, however, over the emperor, he derived on this, as on other occasions, from the contiguity of his dominions, as well as from the extent of the royal authority in France, which exempted him from all the delays and disappointments unavoidable wherever popular assemblies provide for the expenses of government by occasional and frugal subsidies. Hence his domestic preparations were always carried on with vigor and rapidity, while those of the emperor, unless when quickened by some foreign supply, or some temporary expedient, were extremely slow and dilatory.

Long before any army was in readiness to oppose him, Francis took the field in the Low-Countries, against which he turned the whole weight of the war. He made himself master of Landrecy, which he determined to keep as the key to the whole province of Hainault; and ordered it to be fortified with great care. Turning from thence to the right, he entered the duchy of Luxemburg, and found it in the same defenseless state as in the former year. While he was thus employed, the emperor, having drawn together an army, composed of all the different nations subject to his government, entered the territories of the duke of Cleves, on whom he had vowed to inflict exemplary vengeance. This prince, whose conduct and situation were similar to that of Robert de la Mark in the first war between Charles and Francis, resembled him likewise in his fate. Unable, with his feeble army, to face the emperor, who advanced at the head of forty-four thousand men, he retired at his approach; and the Imperialists, being at liberty to act as they pleased, immediately invested Duren. That town, though gallantly defended, was taken by assault; all the inhabitants were put to the sword, and the place itself reduced to ashes. This dreadful example of severity struck the people of the country with such general terror, that all the other towns, even such as were capable of resistance, sent their keys to the emperor [August 24]; and before a body of French, detached to his assistance, could come up, the duke himself was obliged to make his submission to Charles in the most abject manner. Being admitted into the Imperial presence, he kneeled, together with eight of his principal subjects, and implored mercy. The emperor allowed him to remain in that ignominious posture, and eyeing him with a haughty and severe look, without deigning to answer a single word, remitted him to his ministers. The conditions, however, which they prescribed, were not so rigorous as he had reason to have expected after such a reception. He was obliged [Sept. 7] to renounce his alliance with France and Denmark; to resign all his pretensions to the duchy of Gueldres; to enter into perpetual amity with the emperor and king of the Romans. In return for which, all his hereditary dominions were restored, except two towns which the emperor kept as pledges of the duke’s fidelity during the continuance of the war; and he was reinstated in his privileges as a prince of the empire. Not long after, Charles, as a proof of the sincerity of his reconcilement, gave him in marriage one of the daughters of his brother Ferdinand.

Having thus chastised the presumption of the duke of Cleves, detached one of his allies from Francis, and annexed to his own dominions in the Low-Countries a considerable province which lay contiguous to them, Charles advanced towards Hainault, and laid siege to Landrecy. There, as the first fruits of his alliance with Henry, he was joined by six thousand English under Sir John Wallop. The garrison, consisting of veteran troops commanded by De La Lande and Desse, two officers of reputation, made a vigorous resistance. Francis approached with all his forces to relieve that place; Charles covered the siege; both were determined to hazard an engagement; and all Europe expected to see this contest, which had continued so long, decided at last by a battle between two great armies led by their respective monarchs in person.

But the ground which separated their two camps was such, as put the disadvantage manifestly on his side who should venture to attack, and neither of them chose to run that risk. Amidst a variety of movements in order to draw the enemy into the snare, or to avoid it themselves, Francis, with admirable conduct and equally good fortune, threw first a supply of fresh troops, and then a convoy of provisions, into the town, so that the emperor, despairing of success, withdrew into winter-quarters, in order to preserve his army from being entirely ruined by the rigor of the season.

During this campaign, Solyman fulfilled his engagements to the French king with great punctuality. He himself marched into Hungary with a numerous army [November]; and as the princes of the empire made no great effort to save a country which Charles, by employing his own force against Francis, seemed willing to sacrifice, there was no appearance of any body of troops to oppose his progress. He besieged, one after another, Quinque Ecclesiae, Alba, and Gran, the three most considerable towns in the kingdom, of which Ferdinand had kept possession.

The first was taken by storm; the other two surrendered; and the whole kingdom, a small corner excepted, was subjected to the Turkish yoke. About the same time, Barbarossa sailed with a fleet of a hundred and ten galleys, and coasting along the shore of Calabria, made a descent at Rheggio, which he plundered and burnt; and advancing from thence to the mouth of the Tiber, he stopped there to water. The citizens of Rome, ignorant of his destination, and filled with terror, began to fly with such general precipitation, that the city would have been totally deserted, if they had not resumed courage upon letters from Paulin the French envoy, assuring them that no violence or injury would be offered by the Turks to any state in alliance with the king his master.$ From Ostia, Barbarossa sailed to Marseilles, and being joined by the French fleet with a body of land forces on board, under the count d'Enguien, a gallant young prince of the house of Bourbon, they directed their course towards Nice, the sole retreat of the unfortunate duke of Savoy [August 10].

There, to the astonishment and scandal of all Christendom, the lilies of France and crescent of Mahomet appeared in conjunction against a fortress on which the cross of Savoy was displayed. The town, however, was bravely defended against their combined force by Montfort, a Savoyard gentleman, who stood a general assault, and repulsed the enemy with great loss before he retired into the castle. That fort, situated upon a rock, on which the artillery made no impression, and which could not be undermined, he held out so long, that Doria had time to approach with his fleet, and the marquis del Guasto to march with a body of troops from Milan. Upon intelligence of this, the French and Turks raised the siege [Sept. 8]; and Francis had not even the consolation of success, to render the infamy which he drew on himself, by calling in such an auxiliary, more pardonable.

 

THE REFORM MAKING ITS OWN WAY THROUGHT

 

From the small progress of either party during this campaign, it was obvious to what a length the war might he drawn out between two princes, whose power was so equally balanced, and who, by their own talents or activity, could so vary and multiply their resources.

The trial which they had now made of each other’s strength might have taught them the imprudence of persisting in a war, wherein there was greater appearance of their distressing their own dominions than of conquering those of their adversary, and should have disposed both to wish for peace. If Charles and Francis had been influenced by considerations of interest or prudence alone, this, without doubt, must have been the manner in which they would have reasoned. But the personal animosity, which mingled itself in all their quarrels, had grown to be so violent and implacable, that, for the pleasure of gratifying it, they disregarded everything else; and were infinitely more solicitous how to hurt each other, than how to secure what would be of advantage to themselves. No sooner then did the season force them to suspend hostilities, than, without paying any attention to the pope’s repeated endeavors or paternal exhortations to re-establish peace, they began to provide for the operations of the next year with new vigour, and an activity increasing with their hatred. Charles turned his chief attention towards gaining the princes of the empire, and endeavored to rouse the formidable but unwieldy strength of the Germanic body against Francis. In order to understand the propriety of the steps which he took for that purpose, it is necessary to review the chief transactions in that country since the diet of Ratisbon in the year 1541.

Much about the time that that assembly broke up, Maurice succeeded his father Henry in the government of that part of Saxony which belonged to the Albertine branch of the Saxon family. This young prince, then only in his twentieth year, had, even at that early period, begun to discover the great talents which qualified him for acting such a distinguished part in the affairs of Germany. As soon as he entered upon the administration, he struck out into such a new and singular path, as showed that be aimed from the beginning, at something great and uncommon. Though zealously attached to the protestant opinions, both from education and principle, he refused to accede to the league of Smalkalde, being determined, as he said, to maintain the purity of religion, which was the original object of that confederacy, but not to entangle himself in the political interests or combinations to which it had given rise. At the same time, foreseeing a rupture between Charles and the confederates or Smalkalde, and perceiving which of them was most likely to prevail in the contest, instead of that jealousy and distrust which the other protestants expressed of all the emperor’s designs, he affected to place in him an unbounded confidence: and courted his favor with the utmost assiduity. When the other protestants, in the year 1542, either declined assisting Ferdinand in Hungary, or afforded him reluctant and feeble aid, Maurice marched thither in person, and rendered himself conspicuous by his zeal and courage. From the same motive, he had led to the emperor’s assistance, during the last campaign, a body of his own troops; and the gracefulness of his person, his dexterity in all military exercises, together with his intrepidity, which courted and delighted in danger, did not distinguish him more in the field, than his great abilities and insinuating address won upon the emperor's confidence and favor.

While by this conduct, which appeared extraordinary to those who held the same opinions with him concerning religion, Maurice endeavored to pay court to the emperor, he began to discover some degree of jealousy of his cousin the elector of Saxony. This, which proved in the sequel so fatal to the elector, had almost occasioned an open rupture between them, and soon after Maurice's accession to the government, they both took arms with equal rage, upon account of a dispute about the right of jurisdiction over a paltry town situated on the Moldaw. They were prevented, however, from proceeding to action by the mediation of the landgrave of Hesse, whose daughter Maurice had married, as well as by the powerful and authoritative admonitions of Luther.

Amidst these transactions, the pope, though extremely irritated at the emperor's concessions to the Protestants at the Diet of Ratisbon, was so warmly solicited on all hands, by such as were most devoutly attached to the see of Rome, no less than by those whose fidelity or designs he suspected, to summon a general council, that he found it impossible to avoid any longer calling that assembly. The impatience for its meeting, and the expectations of great effects from its decisions, seemed to grow in proportion to the difficulty of obtaining it. He still adhered, however, to his original resolution of holding it in some town of Italy, where, by the number of ecclesiastics, retainers to his court, and depending on his favor, who could repair to it without difficulty or expense, he might influence and even direct all its proceedings. This proposition, though often rejected by the Germans, he instructed his nuncio to the diet held at Spires [March 3], in the year 1542, to renew once more; and if he found it gave no greater satisfaction than formerly, he empowered him, as a last concession, to propose for the place of meeting, Trent, a city in the Tyrol, subject to the king of the Romans, and situated on the confines between Germany and Italy. The catholic princes in the diet, after giving it as their opinion that the council might have been held with greater advantage in Ratisbone, Cologne, or some of the great cities of the empire, were at length induce to approve of the place which the pope had named. The protestants unanimously expressed their dissatisfaction, and protested that they would pay no regard to a council held beyond the precincts of the empire, called by the pope’s authority, and in which he assumed the right of presiding.

The pope, without taking any notice of their objections, published the bull of intimation [May 22, 1542], named three cardinals to preside as his legates, and appointed them to repair to Trent before the first of November, the day he had fixed for opening the council. But if Paul had desired the meeting of a council as sincerely as he pretended, he would not have pitched on such an improper time for calling it. Instead of that general union and tranquility, without which the deliberations of a council could neither be conducted with security, nor attended with authority, such a fierce war was just kindled between the emperor and Francis, as rendered it impossible for the ecclesiastics from many parts of Europe to resort thither in safety. The legates, accordingly, remained several months at Trent; but as no person appeared there, except a few prelates from the ecclesiastical state, the pope, in order to avoid the ridicule and contempt which this drew upon him from the enemies of the church, recalled them, and prorogued the council.

Unhappily for the authority of the papal see, at the very time that the German protestants took every occasion of pouring contempt upon it, the emperor and king of the Romans found it necessary not only to connive at their conduct, but to court their favor by repeated acts of indulgence. In the same diet of Spires, in which they had protested in the most disrespectful terms against assembling a council at Trent, Ferdinand, who depended on their aid for the defence of Hungary, not only permitted that protestation to be inserted in the records of the diet, but renewed in their favor all the emperor’s concessions at Ratisbon, adding to them whatever they demanded for their farther security. Among other particulars, he granted a suspension of a decree of the Imperial chamber against the city Goslar (one of those which had entered into the league of Smalkalde), on account of its having seized the ecclesiastical revenues within its domains, and enjoined Henry duke of Brunswick to desist from his attempts to carry that decree into execution. But Henry, a furious bigot, and no less obstinate than rash in all his undertakings, continuing to disquiet the people of Goslar by his incursions, the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse, that they might not suffer any member of the Smalkaldic body to be oppressed, assembled their forces, declared war in form against Henry, and in the space of a few weeks, stripping him entirely of his dominions, drove him as a wretched exile to take refuge in the court of Bavaria. By this act of vengeance, no less severe than sudden, they filled all Ger­many with dread of their power, and the confederates of Smalkalde appeared, by this first effort of their arms, to be as ready as they were able to protect those who had joined their association.

Emboldened by so many concessions in their favor, as well as by the progress which their opinions daily made, the princes of the league of Smalkalde took a solemn protest against the Imperial chamber, and declined its jurisdiction for the future, because that court had not been visited or reformed according to the decree of Ratisbon, and continued to discover a most indecent partiality in all its proceedings. Not long after this, they ventured a step farther; and protesting against the recess of a diet held at Nuremberg [April 23, 1543], which provided for the defence of Hun­gary, refused to furnish heir contingent for that purpose unless the Impe­rial chamber were reformed, and full security were granted them in every point with regard to religion.

 

1544.THE DIET OF SPIRES

 

Such were the lengths to which the protestants had proceeded, and such their confidence in their own power when the emperor returned from the Low-Countries, to hold a diet which he had summoned to meet at Spires.

The respect due to the emperor, as well as the importance of the affairs which were to be laid before it, rendered this assembly extremely full. All the electors, a great number of princes ecclesiastical and secular, with the deputies of most of the cities, were present. Charles soon perceived that this was not a time to offend the jealous spirit of the protestants, by asserting in any high tone the authority and doctrines of the church, or by abridging, in the smallest article, the liberty which they now enjoyed; but that, on the contrary, if he expected any support from them, or wished to preserve Germany from intestine disorders while he was engaged in a foreign war, he must soothe them by new concessions, and a more ample extension of their religious privileges. He began accordingly with courting the elector of Saxony, and landgrave of Hesse, the heads of the protestant party, and by giving up some things in their favor, and granting liberal promises with regard to others, he secured himself from any danger of opposition on their part. Having gained this capital point, he then ventured to address the diet with greater freedom. He began by representing his own zeal, and unwearied efforts with regard to two things most essential to Christendom, the procuring of a general council in order to compose the religious dissensions which had unhappily arisen in Germany, and the providing some proper means for checking the formidable progress of the Turkish arms.

But he observed, with deep regret, that his pious endeavors had been entirely defeated by the unjustifiable ambition of the French king, who having wantonly kindled the flame of war in Europe, which had been so lately extinguished by the truce of Nice, rendered it impossible for the fathers of the church to assemble in council, or to deliberate with security; and obliged him to employ those forces in his own defence, which, with greater satisfaction to himself, as well as more honor to Christendom, he would have turned against the infidels: that Francis, not thinking it enough to have called him oil from opposing the Mahometans, had, with unexampled impiety, invited them into the heart of Christendom, and joining his arms to theirs, had openly attacked the duke of Savoy, a member of the empire; that Barbarossa's fleet was now in one of the ports of France, waiting only the return of spring to carry terror and desolation to the coast or some Christian state: that in such a situation it was folly to think of distant expeditions against the Turk, or of marching to oppose his armies in Hungary, while such a powerful ally received him into the centre of Europe, and gave him footing there. It was a dictate of prudence, he added, to oppose the nearest and most imminent danger, first of all, and by humbling the power of France, to deprive Solyman of the advantages which he derived from the unnatural confederacy formed between him and a monarch, who still arrogated the name of Most Christian: that, in truth, a war against the French king and the sultan ought to be considered as the same thing; and that every advantage gained over the former was a severe and sensible blow to the latter: on all these accounts, he concluded with demanding their aid against Francis, not merely as an enemy of the Germanic body, or of him who was its head, but as an avowed ally of the infidels, and a public enemy to the Christian name.

In order to give greater weight to this violent invective of the emperor, the king of the Romans stood up, and related the rapid conquests of the sultan in Hungary, occasioned, as he said, by the fatal necessity imposed on his brother, of employing his arms against France. When he had finished, the ambassadors of Savoy gave a detail of Barbarossa’s operations at Nice, and of the ravages which he had committed on that coast. All these, added to the general indignation which Francis’s unprecedented union with the Turks excited in Europe, made such an impression on the diet as the emperor wished, and disposed most of the members to grant him such effectual aid as he had demanded. The ambassadors whom Francis had sent to explain the motives of his conduct, were not permitted to enter the bounds of the empire; and the apology which they published far their master, vindicating his alliance with Solyman, by examples drawn from scripture, and the practice of Christian princes, was little regarded by men who were irritated already, or prejudiced against him to such a degree, as to be incapable of allowing their proper weight to any arguments in his behalf.

Such being the favorable disposition of the Germans, Charles perceived that nothing could now obstruct his gaining all that he aimed at, but the fears and jealousies of the protestants, which he determined to quiet by granting everything that the utmost solicitude of these passions could desire for the security of their religion. With this view, he consented to a recess, whereby all the rigorous edicts hitherto issued against the protestants were suspended; a council either general or national to be assembled in Germany was declared necessary, in order to reestablish peace in the church; until one of these should be held (which the emperor undertook to bring about as soon as possible), the free and public exercise of the protestant religion was authorized; the Imperial chamber was enjoined to give no molestation to the protestants; and when the term, for which the present judges in that court were elected, should expire, persons duly qualified were then to be admitted as members, without any distinction on account of religion. In return for these extraordinary acts of indulgence, the protestants concurred with the other members of the diet, in declaring war against Francis in name of the empire; in voting the emperor a body of twenty-four thousand foot, and four thousand horse, to be maintained at the public expense for six months, and to be employed against France, and at the same time the diet imposed a poll-tax to be levied throughout Germany on every person without exception, for the support of the war against the Turks.

Charles, while he gave the greatest attention to the minute and intricate detail of particulars necessary towards conducting the deliberations of a numerous and divided assembly to such a successful period, negotiated a separate peace with the king of Denmark; who, though he had hitherto performed nothing considerable in consequence of his alliance with Francis, had it in his power, however, to make a troublesome diversion in favor of that monarch. At the same time, he did not neglect proper applications to the king of England, in order to rouse him to more vigorous efforts against their common enemy. Little, indeed, was wanting to accomplish this; for such events had happened in Scotland as inflamed Henry to the most violent pitch of resentment against Francis. Having concluded with the parliament of Scotland a treaty of marriage between his son and their young queen, by which he reckoned himself secure of effecting the union of the two kingdoms, which had been long desired, and often attempted without success by his predecessors, Mary of Guise the queen mother, cardinal Beatoun, and other partisans of France, found means not only to break off the match, but to alienate the Scottish nation entirely from the friendship of England, and to strengthen its ancient attachment to France. Henry, however, did not abandon an object of so much importance; and as the humbling of Francis, besides the pleasure of taking revenge upon an enemy who had disappointed a favorite measure, appeared the most effectual method of bringing the Scots to accept once more of the treaty which they had relinquished, he was so eager to accomplish this, that he was ready to second whatever the emperor could propose to be attempted against the French king. The plan, accordingly, which they concerted, was such, if it had been punctually executed, as must have ruined France in the first place, and would have augmented so prodigiously the emperor’s power and territories, as might in the end have proved fatal to the liberties of Europe. They agreed to invade France each with an army of twenty-five thousand men, and, without losing time in besieging the frontier towns, to advance directly towards the interior provinces, and to join their forces near Paris.

 

PEACE OF CRESPY

 

Francis stood alone in opposition to all the enemies whom Charles was mustering against him.

Solyman had been the only ally who did not desert him; but the assistance which he received from him had rendered him so odious to all Christendom, that he resolved rather to forego all the advantages of his friendship, than to become, on that account, the object of general detestation. For this reason, he dismissed Barbarossa as soon as winter was over, who, after ravaging the coast of Naples and Tuscany, returned to Constantinople. As Francis could not hope to equal the forces of so many powers combined against him, he endeavored to supply that defect by dispatch, which was more in his power, and to get the start of them in taking the field.

Early in the spring the count d'Enguien invested Carignan, a town in Piedmont, which the marquis del Guasto the Imperial general having surprised the former year, considered of so much importance, that he had fortified it at great expense. The count pushed the siege with such vigour, that Guasto, fond of his own conquest, and seeing no other way of saving it from falling into the hands of the French, resolved to hazard a battle in order to relieve it. He began his march from Milan for this purpose, and as he was at no pains to conceal his intention, it was soon known in the French camp. Enguien, a gallant and enterprising young man, wished passionately to try the fortune of a battle; his troops desired it with no less ardor; but the peremptory injunction of the king not to venture a general engagement, flowing from a prudent attention to the present situation of affairs, as well as from the remembrance of former disasters, restrained him from venturing upon it. Unwilling, however, to abandon Carignan, when it was just ready to yield, and eager to distinguish his command by some memorable action, he despatched Monluc to court, in order to lay before the king the advantages of fighting the enemy, and the hopes which he had of victory.

The king referred the matter to his privy council; all the ministers declared one after another, against fighting, and supported their sentiments by reasons extremely plausible. While they were delivering their opinions, Monluc, who was permitted to be present, discovered such visible and extravagant symptoms of impatience to speak, as well as such dissatisfaction with what he heard, that Francis, diverted with his appearance, called on him to declare what he could offer in reply to sentiments which seemed to be as just as they were general. Upon this, Monluc, a plain but spirited soldier, and of known courage, represented the good condition of the troops, their eagerness to meet the enemy in the field, their confidence in their officers, together with the everlasting infamy which the declining of a battle would bring on the French arms; and he urged his arguments with such lively impetuosity, and such a flow of military eloquence, as gained over to his opinion, not only the king, naturally fond of daring actions, but several of the council. Francis, catching the same enthusiasm which had animated his troops, suddenly started up, and having lifted his hands to heaven, and implored the Divine protection, he then addressed himself to Monluc, “Go”, says he, “return to Piedmont, and fight in the name of God”.

No sooner was it known that the king had given Enguien leave to fight the Imperialists, than such was the martial ardor of the gallant and high spirited gentlemen of that age, that the court was quite deserted, every person desirous of reputation or capable of service, hurrying to Piedmont, in order to share, as volunteers, in the danger and glory of the action.

Encouraged by the arrival of so many brave officers, Enguien immediately prepared for battle, nor did Guasto decline the combat. The number of cavalry was almost equal, but the Imperial infantry exceeded the French by at least ten thousand men. They met near Cerisoles [April 11], in an open plain, which afforded to neither any advantage of ground, and both had full time to form their army in proper order. The shock was such as might have been expected between veteran troops, violent and obstinate. The French cavalry rushing forward to the charge with their usual vivacity, bore down everything that opposed them; but, on the other hand, the steady and disciplined valor of the Spanish infantry having forced the body which they encountered to give way, victory remained in suspense, ready to declare for whichever general could make the best use of that critical moment.

Guasto, engaged in that part of his army which was thrown into disorder, and afraid of failing into the hands of the French, whose vengeance he dreaded on account of the murder of Rincon and Fregoso, lost his presence of mind, and forgot to order a large body of reserve to advance; whereas Enguien, with admirable courage and equal conduct, supported at the head of his gens d'armes, such of his battalions as began to yield; and at the same time he ordered the Swiss in his service, who had been victorious wherever they fought, to fall upon the Spaniards. This motion proved decisive. All that followed was confusion and slaughter. The marquis del Guasto, wounded in the thigh, escaped only by the swiftness of his horse. The victory of the French was complete, ten thousand of the Imperialists being slain, and a considerable number, with all their tents, baggage, and artillery, taken. On the part of the conquerors, their joy was without allay, a few only being killed, and among these no officer of distinction.

This splendid action, beside the reputation with which it was attended, delivered France from an imminent danger, as it ruined the army with which Guasto had intended to invade the country between the Rhone and Saone, where there were neither fortified towns nor regular forces to oppose his progress. But it was not in Francis’s power to pursue the victory with such vigor as to reap all the advantages which it might have yielded; for though the Milanese remained now almost defenseless; though the inhabitants who had long murmured under the rigor of the Imperial government, were ready to throw off the yoke; though Enguien, flushed with success, urged the king to seize this happy opportunity of recovering a country, the acquisition of which had been long his favorite object; yet, as the emperor and the king of England were preparing to break in upon the opposite frontier of France with numerous armies, it became necessary to sacrifice all thoughts of conquest to the public safety; and to recall twelve thousand of Enguien’s best troops to be employed in defence of the kingdom. Enguien’s subsequent operations were, of consequence, so languid and inconsiderable, that the reduction of Carignan and some other towns in Piedmont, was all that he gained by his great victory at Cerisoles.

The emperor, as usual, was late in taking the field, but he appeared, towards the beginning of June, at the head of an army more numerous and better appointed than any which he had hitherto led against France. It amounted almost to fifty thousand men, and part of it having reduced Luxemburg and some other towns in the Netherlands, before he himself joined it, he now marched with the whole towards the frontiers of Champagne [June]. Charles, according to his agreement with the king of England, ought to have advanced directly towards Paris; and the dauphin, who commanded the only army to which Francis trusted for the security of his dominions in that quarter, was in no condition to oppose him.

But the success with which the French had defended Provence in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-six, had taught them the most effectual method of distressing an invading enemy.

Champagne, a country abounding more in vines than corn, was incapable of maintaining a great army; and before the emperor's approach, whatever could be of any use to his troops had been carried off or destroyed. This rendered it necessary for him to be master of some places of strength in order to secure the convoys, on which alone he now perceived that he must depend for subsistence; and he found the frontier towns so ill provided for defence, that he hoped it would not be a work either of much time or difficulty to reduce them. Accordingly Ligny and Commercy, which he first attacked, surrendered after a short resistance. He then invested St. Disier [July 8], which, though it commanded an important pass on the Marne, was destitute of everything necessary for sustaining a siege. But the count de Sancerre and M. De la Lande, who had acquired such reputation by the defence of Landrecy, generously threw themselves into the town, and undertook to hold it out to the last extremity. The emperor soon found how capable they were of making good their promise, and that he could not expect to take the town without besieging it in form. This accordingly he undertook; and as it was his nature never to abandon any enterprise in which he had once engaged, he persisted in it with an inconsiderate obstinacy.

The king of England’s preparations for the campaign were completed long before the emperor's; but as he did not choose, on the one hand, to encounter alone the whole power of France, and was unwilling, on the other, that his troops should remain inactive, he took that opportunity of chastising the Scots, by sending his fleet, together with a considerable part of his infantry, under the earl of Hertford, to invade their country. Hertford executed his commission with vigor, plundered and burnt Edinburgh and Leith, laid waste the adjacent country, and re-embarked his men with such dispatch that they joined their sovereign soon after his landing in France [July 14]. When Henry arrived in that kingdom, he found the emperor engaged in the siege of St. Disier; an ambassador, however, whom he sent to congratulate the English monarch on his safe arrival on the continent, solicited him to march, in terms of the treaty, directly to Paris. But Charles had set his ally such an ill example of fulfilling the conditions of their confederacy with exactness, that Henry, observing him employ his time and forces in taking towns for his own behalf, saw no reason why he should not attempt the reduction of some places that lay conveniently for himself. Without paying any regard to the emperor’s remonstrances, he immediately invested Boulogne, and commanded the duke of Norfolk to press the siege of Montreuil, which had been begun before his arrival, by a body of Flemings, in conjunction with some English troops. While Charles and Henry shoved such attention each to his own interest, they both neglected the common cause. Instead of the union and confidence requisite towards conducting the great plan that they had formed, they early had discovered a mutual jealousy of each other, which, by degrees, begot distrust, and ended in open hatred.

By this time, Francis had, with unwearied industry, drawn together an army, capable, as well from the number as from the valor of the troops, of making head against the enemy. But the dauphin, who still acted as general, prudently declining a battle, the loss of which would have endangered the kingdom, satisfied himself with harassing the emperor with his light troops, cutting off his convoys, and laying waste the country around him. Though extremely distressed by these operations, Charles still pressed the siege of St. Disier, which Sancerre defended with astonishing fortitude and conduct. He stood repeated assaults, repulsing the enemy, in them all; and undismayed even by the death of his brave associate, De la Lande, who was killed by a cannon-ball, he continued to show the same bold countenance and obstinate resolution. At the end of five weeks, he was still in a condition to hold out some time longer, when an artifice of Granville's induced him to surrender. That crafty politician, having intercepted the key to the cipher which the duke of Guise used in communicating intelligence to Sancerre, forged a letter in his name, authorizing Sancerre to capitulate, as the king, though highly satisfied with his behavior, thought it imprudent to hazard a battle for his relief. This letter he conveyed into the town in a manner which could raise no suspicion, and the governor fell into the snare. Even then, he obtained such honorable conditions as his gallant defence merited, and among others, a cessation of hostilities for eight days, at the expiration of which he bound himself to open the gates, if Francis, during that time, did not attack the Imperial army, and throw fresh troops into the town. Thus Sancerre, by detaining the emperor so long before an inconsiderable place, afforded his sovereign full time to assemble all his forces, and, what rarely falls to the lot of an officer in such an inferior command, acquired the glory of having saved his country.

 

As soon as St. Disier surrendered, the emperor advanced into the heart of Champagne [August 17], but Sancerre's obstinate resistance had damped his sanguine hopes of penetrating to Paris, and led him seriously to reflect on what he might expect before towns of greater strength, and defended by more numerous garrisons. At the same time, the procuring subsistence for his army was attended with great difficulty, which increased in proportion as he withdrew farther from his own frontier. He had lost a great number of his best troops in the siege of St. Disier, and many fell daily in skirmishes, which it was not in his power to avoid, though they wasted his army insensibly, without leading to any decisive action.

The season advanced apace, and he had not yet the command either of a sufficient extent of territory, or of any such considerable town as rendered it safe to winter in the enemy's country. Great arrears, too, were now due to his soldiers, who were upon the point of mutinying for their pay, while he knew not from what funds to satisfy them. All these considerations induced him to listen to the overtures of peace, which a Spanish Dominican, the confessor of his sister, the queen of France, had secretly made to his confessor, a monk of the same order. In consequence of this, plenipotentiaries were named on both sides, and began their conferences in Chause, a small village near Chalons. At the same time, Charles, either from a desire of making one great final effort against France, or merely to gain a pretext for deserting his ally, and concluding a separate peace, sent an ambassador formally to require Henry, according to the stipulation in their treaty, to advance towards Paris. While he expected a return from him, and waited the issue of the conferences at Chause, he continued to march forward, though in the utmost distress from scarcity of provisions. But at last, by a fortunate motion on his part, or through some neglect or treachery on that of the French, he surprised first Epernay, and then Chateau Thierry, in both of which were considerable magazines. No sooner was it known that these towns, the latter of which is not two days march from Paris, were in the hands of the enemy, than that great capital, defenseless, and susceptible of any violent alarm in proportion to its greatness, was filled with consternation.

The inhabitants, as if the emperor had been already at their gates, fled in the wildest confusion and despair, many sending their wives and children down the Seine to Rouen, others to Orleans, and the towns upon the Loire. Francis himself, more afflicted with this than with any other event during his reign, and sensible as well of the triumph that his rival would enjoy in insulting his capital, as of the danger to which the kingdom was exposed, could not refrain from crying out, in the first emotion of his surprise and sorrow, “How dear, 0 my God, do I pay for this crown, which I thought thou hadst granted me freely!”. But recovering in a moment from this sudden sally of peevishness and impatience, he devoutly added, “Thy will, however, be done”; and proceeded to issue the necessary orders for opposing the enemy with his usual activity and presence of mind. The dauphin detached eight thousand men to Paris, which revived the courage of the affrighted citizens; he threw a strong garrison into Meaux, and, by a forced march, got into Ferté, between the Imperialists and the capital.

Upon this, the emperor, who began again to feel the want of provisions, perceiving that the dauphin still prudently declined a battle, and not daring to attack his camp with forces so much shattered and reduced by hard service, turned suddenly to the right, and began to fall back towards Soissons. Having about this time received Henry’s answer, whereby he refused to abandon the sieges of Boulogne and Montreuil, of both which he expected every moment to get possession, he thought himself absolved from all obligations of adhering to the treaty with him, and at full liberty to consult his own interest in what manner soever he pleased. He consented, therefore, to renew the conference, which the surprise of Epernay had broken off. To conclude a peace between two princes, one of whom greatly desired, and the other greatly needed it, did not require a long negotiation. It was signed at Crespy, a small town near Meaux, on the eighteenth of September. The chief articles of it were, that all the conquests which either party had made since the truce of Nice shall be restored: that the emperor shall give in marriage to the Duke of Orleans, either his own eldest daughter, or the second daughter of his brother Ferdinand; that if he choose to bestow on him his own daughter, he shall settle on her all the provinces of the Low-Countries, to be erected into an independent state, which shall descend to the male issue of the marriage; that if he determine to give him his niece, he shall, with her, grant him the investiture of Milan and its dependencies; that he shall within four months declare which of these two princesses he had pitched upon, and fulfill the respective conditions upon the consummation of the marriage, which shall take place within a year from the date of the treaty; that as soon as the duke of Orleans is put in possession either of the Low-Countries or of Milan, Francis shall restore to the duke of Savoy all that he now possesses of his territories, except Pignerol and Montmilian;that Francis shall renounce all pretensions to the kingdom of Naples, or to the sovereignty of Flanders and Artois, and Charles shall give up his claim to the duchy of Burgundy and county of Charolois; that Francis shall give no aid to the exiled king of Navarre; that both monarchs shall join in making war upon the Turks, towards which the king shall furnish, when required by the emperor and empire, six hundred men at arms, and ten thousand foot.

 

THE POPE,THE EMPEROR AND THE PROTESTANTS

 

Besides the immediate motives to this peace, arising from the distress of his army through want of provisions; from the difficulty of retreating out of France, and the impossibility of securing winter quarters there; the emperor was influenced, by other considerations, more distant indeed, but not less weighty.

The pope was offended to a great degree, as well at his concessions to the protestants in the late diet, as at his consenting to call a council, and to admit of public disputations in Germany, with a view of determining the doctrines in controversy. Paul considering both these steps as sacrilegious encroachments on the jurisdiction as well as privileges of the holy see, had addressed to the emperor a remonstrance rather than a letter on this subject, written with such acrimony of language, and in a style of such high authority, as discovered more or an intention to draw on a quarrel, than of a desire to reclaim him. This ill humor was not a little inflamed by the emperor's league with Henry of England, which, being contracted with a heretic excommunicated by the apostolic see, appeared to the pope a profane alliance, and was not less dreaded by him than that of Francis with Solyman. Paul's son and grandson, highly incensed at the emperor for having refused to gratify them with regard to the alienation of Parma and Placentia, contributed by their suggestions to sour and disgust him still more. To all which was added the powerful operation of the flattery and promises which Francis incessantly employed to gain him.

Though from his desire of maintaining a neutrality, the pope had hitherto suppressed his own resentment, had eluded the artifices of his own family, and resisted the solicitations of the French king, it was not safe to rely much on the steadiness of a man whom his passions, his friends, and his interest combined to shake. The union of the pope with France, Charles well knew, would instantly expose his dominions in Italy to be attacked. The Venetians, he foresaw, would probably follow the example of a pontiff, who was considered as a model of political wisdom among the Italians; and thus, at a juncture when he felt himself hardly equal to the burden of the present war, he would be overwhelmed with the weight of a new confederacy against him. At the same time, the Turks, almost unresisted, made such progress in Hungary, reducing town after town, that they approached near to the confines of the Austrian provinces. Above all these, the extraordinary progress of the protestant doctrines in Germany, and the dangerous combination into which the princes of that profession had entered, called for his immediate attention.

Almost one half of Germany had revolted from the established church; the fidelity of the rest was much shaken; the nobility of Austria had demanded of Ferdinand the free exercise of religion; the Bohemians, among whom some seeds of the doctrines of Huss still remained, openly favored the new opinions; the archbishop of Cologne, with a zeal which is seldom found among ecclesiastics, had begun the reformation of his dioceses; nor was it possible unless some timely and effectual check were given to the spirit of innovation, to foresee where it would end. He himself had been a witness, in the late diet, to the peremptory and decisive tone which the protestants had now assumed. He had seen how, from confidence in their number and union, they had forgotten the humble style of their first petitions, and had grown to such boldness as openly to despise the pope, and to show no great reverence for the Imperial dignity itself. If, therefore, he wished to maintain either the ancient religion or his own authority, and would not choose to dwindle into a mere nominal head of the empire, some vigorous and speedy effort was requisite on his part, which could not be made during a war that required the greatest exertion of his strength against a foreign and powerful enemy.

Such being the emperor's inducements to peace, he had the address to frame the treaty of Crespy so as to promote all the ends which he had in view. By coming to an agreement with Francis, he took from the pope all prospect of advantage in courting the friendship of that monarch in preference to his. By the proviso with regard to a war with the Turks, he not only deprived Solyman of a powerful ally, but turned the arms of that ally against him. By a private article, not inserted in the treaty, that it might not raise any unseasonable alarm, he agreed with Francis that both should exert all their influence and power in order to procure a general council, to assert its authority, and to exterminate the protestant heresy out of their dominions. This cut off all chance of assistance which the confederates of Smalkalde might expect from the French king; and lest their solicitations, or his jealousy of an ancient rival, should hereafter tempt Francis to forget this engagement, he left him embarrassed with a war against England, which would put it out of his power to take any consider­able part in the affairs of Germany.

Henry, possessed at all times with a high idea of his own power and importance, felt, in the most sensible manner, the neglect with which the emperor had treated him in concluding a separate peace. But the situation of his affairs was such as somewhat alleviated the mortification which this occasioned. For though he was obliged to recall the duke of Norfolk from the siege of Montreuil [Sept. 14], because the Flemish troops received orders to retire, Boulogne had surrendered before the negotiations at Crespy were brought to an issue. While elated with vanity on account of this conquest, and inflamed with indignation against the emperor, the ambassadors whom Francis sent to make overtures of peace, found him too arrogant to grant what was moderate or equitable. His demands were indeed extravagant, and made in the tone of a conqueror; that Francis should renounce his alliance with Scotland, and not only pay up the arrears of former debts, but reimburse the money which Henry had expended in the present war. Francis, though sincerely desirous of peace, and willing to yield a great deal in order to obtain it, being now free from the pressure of the Imperial arms, rejected these ignominious propositions with disdain; and Henry departing for England, hostilities continued between the two nations.

The treaty of peace, how acceptable soever to the people of France, whom it delivered from the dread of an enemy who had penetrated into the heart of the kingdom, was loudly complained of by the dauphin. He considered it as a manifest proof of the king his father's extraordinary partiality towards his younger brother, now duke of Orleans, and complained that, from his eagerness to gain an establishment for a favorite son, he had sacrificed the honor of the kingdom, and renounced the most ancient as well as valuable rights of the crown.

But as he durst not venture to offend the king by refusing to ratify it, though extremely desirous at the same time of securing to himself the privilege of reclaiming what was now alienated so much to his detriment, he secretly protested, in presence of some of his adherents, against the whole transaction; and declared whatever he should be obliged to do in order to confirm it, null in itself, and void of all obligation. The parliament of Toulouse, probably by the instigation of his partisans, did the same. But Francis, highly pleased as well with having delivered his subjects from the miseries of an invasion, as with the prospect of acquiring an independent settlement for his son at no greater price than that of renouncing conquests to which he had no just claim; titles which had brought so much expense and so many disasters upon the nation; and rights grown obsolete and of no value; ratified the treaty with great joy. Charles, within the time prescribed by the treaty, declared his intention of giving Ferdinand’s daughter in marriage to the duke of Orleans, together with the duchy of Milan as her dowry. Every circumstance seemed to promise the continuance of peace.

The emperor, cruelly afflicted with the gout, appeared to be in no condition to undertake any enterprise where great activity was requisite, or much fatigue to be endured. He himself felt this, or wished at least that it should be believed; and being so much disabled by this excruciating distemper, when a French ambassador followed him to Brussels, in order to be present at his ratification of the treaty of peace, that it was with the utmost difficulty that he signed his name, he observed, that there was no great danger of his violating these articles, as a hand that could hardly hold a pen, was little able to brandish a lance.

The violence of his disease confined the emperor several months in Brussels, and was the apparent cause of putting off the execution of the great scheme which he had formed in order to humble the protestant party in Germany. But there were other reasons for this delay. For, however prevalent the motives were which determined him to undertake this enterprise, the nature of that great body which he was about to attack, as well as the situation of his own affairs, made it necessary to deliberate long, to proceed with caution, and not too suddenly to throw aside the veil under which he had hitherto concealed his real sentiments and schemes. He was sensible that the protestants, conscious of their own strength, but under continual apprehensions of his designs, had all the boldness of a powerful confederacy joined to the jealousy of a feeble faction; and were no less quick-sighted to discern the first appearance of danger, than ready to take arms in order to repel it. At the same time, he still continued involved in a Turkish war; and though, in order to deliver himself from this encumbrance, he had determined to send an envoy to the Porte with most advantageous and even submissive overtures of peace, the resolutions of that haughty court were so uncertain, that before these were known, it would have been highly imprudent to have kindled the flames of civil war in his own dominions.

Upon this account, he appeared dissatisfied with a bull issued by the pope immediately after the peace of Crespy [Nov. 19], summoning the council to assemble at Trent early next spring, and exhorting all Christian princes to embrace the opportunity that the present happy interval of tranquility afforded them, of suppressing those heresies which threatened to subvert whatever was sacred or venerable among Christians. But after such a slight expression of dislike, as was necessary in order to cover his designs, he determined to countenance the council, which might become no inconsiderable instrument towards accomplishing his projects, and therefore not only appointed ambassadors to appear there in his name, but ordered the ecclesiastics in his dominions to attend at the time prefixed.

 

1545. IMPERIAL DIET OF WORMS

 

Such were the emperor’s views when the Imperial diet, after several prorogations, was opened at Worms [March 24].

The protestants, who enjoyed the free exercise of their religion by a very precarious tenure, having no other security for it than the recess of the last diet, which was to continue in force only until the meeting of a council, wished earnestly to establish that important privilege upon some firmer basis, and to hold it by a perpetual not a temporary title. But instead of offering them any additional security, Ferdinand opened the diet with observing that there were two points which chiefly required consideration, the prosecution of the war against the Turks, and the state of religion; that the former was the most urgent, as Solyman, after conquering the greatest part of Hungary; was now ready to fall upon the Austrian provinces; that the emperor, who, from the beginning of his reign, had neglected no opportunity of annoying this formidable enemy, and with the hazard of his own person had resisted his attacks, being animated still with the same zeal, had now consented to stop short in the career of his success against France, that, in conjunction with his ancient rival, he might turn his arms with greater vigour against the common adversary of the Christian faith; that it became all the members of the empire to second those pious endeavors of its head; that, therefore, they ought, without delay, to vote him such effectual aid as not only their duty but their interest called upon them to furnish; that the controversies about religion were so intricate, and of such difficult discussion, as to give no hope of its being possible to bring them at present to any final issue; that by perseverance and repeated solicitations the emperor had at length prevailed on the pope to call a council, for which they had so often wished and petitioned; that the time appointed for its meeting was now come, and both parties ought to wait for its decrees, and submit to them as the decisions of the universal church.

The popish members of the diet received this declaration with great applause, and signified their entire acquiescence in every particular which it contained. The protestants expressed great surprise at propositions, which were so manifestly repugnant to the recess of the former diet; they insisted that the questions with regard to religion, as first in dignity and importance, ought to come first under deliberation; that, alarming as the progress of the Turks was to all Germany, the securing the free exercise of their religion touched them still more nearly, nor could they prosecute a foreign war with spirit, while solicitous and uncertain about their domestic tranquility; that if the latter were once rendered firm and permanent, they would concur with their countrymen in pushing the former, and yield to none of them in activity or zeal. But if the danger from the Turkish aims was indeed so imminent, as not to admit of such a delay as would be occasioned by an immediate examination of the controverted points in religion, they required that a diet should be instantly appointed, to which the final settlement of their religious disputes should be referred; and that in the meantime the decree of the former diet concerning religion should be explained in a point which they deemed essential. By the recess of Spires it was provided, that they should enjoy unmolested the public exercise of their religion, until the meeting of a legal council; but as the pope had now called a council, to which Ferdinand had required them to submit, they began to suspect that their adversaries might take advantage of an ambiguity in the terms of the recess, and pretending that the event therein mentioned had now taken place, might pronounce them to be no longer entitled to the same indulgence. In order to guard against this interpretation, they renewed their former remonstrances against a council called to meet without the bounds of the empire, summoned by the pope's authority, and in which lie assumed the right of presiding; and declared that, notwithstanding the convocation of any such illegal assembly, they still held the recess of the late diet to be in full force.

At other junctures, when the emperor thought it of advantage to soothe and gain the protestants, he had devised expedients for giving them satisfaction with regard to demands seemingly more extravagant; but his views at present being very different, Ferdinand, by his command, adhered inflexibly to his first propositions, and would make no concessions which had the most remote tendency to throw discredit on the council, or to weaken its authority. The protestants, on their part, were no less inflexible; and after much time spent in fruitless endeavors to convince each other, they came to no agreement. Nor did the presence of the emperor, who upon his recovery arrived at Worms [May 15], contribute in any degree to render the protestants more compliant. Fully convinced that they were maintaining the cause of God and of truth, they showed themselves superior to the allurements of interest, or the suggestions of fear; and in proportion as the emperor redoubled his solicitations, or discovered his designs, their boldness seems to have increased. At last they openly declared, that they would not even deign to vindicate their tenets in presence of a council, assembled not to examine, but to condemn them; and that they would pay no regard to an assembly held under the influence of a pope, who had already precluded himself from all title to act as a judge, by his having stigmatized their opinions with the name of heresy, and denounced against them the heaviest censures, which, in the plenitude of his usurped power, he could inflict.

While the protestants, with such union as well as firmness, rejected all intercourse with the council, and refused their assent to the Imperial demands, in respect to the Turkish war, Maurice of Saxony alone showed an inclination to gratify the emperor with regard to both. Though he professed an inviolable regard for the protestant religion, be assumed an appearance of moderation peculiar to himself, by which he confirmed the favorable sentiments which the emperor already entertained of him, and gradually paved the way for executing the ambitious designs which always occupied his active and enterprising mind. His example, however, had little influence upon such as agreed with him in their religious opinions; and Charles perceived that he could not hope either to procure present aid from the protestants against the Turks, or to quiet their fears and jealousies on account of their religion. But as his schemes were not yet ripe for execution, nor his preparations so far advanced that he could force the compliance of the protestants, or punish their obstinacy, he artfully concealed his own intentions. That he might augment their security, he [August 4] appointed a diet to be held at Ratisbon early next year, in order to adjust what was now left undetermined; and previous to it, he agreed that a certain number of divines of each party should meet, in order to confer upon the points in dispute.

But, how far soever this appearance of a desire to maintain the present tranquility might have imposed upon the protestants, the emperor was incapable of such uniform and thorough dissimulation, as to hide altogether from their view the dangerous designs which he was meditating against them. Herman count de Wied, archbishop and elector of Cologne, a prelate conspicuous for his virtue and primitive simplicity of manners, though not more distinguished for learning than the other descendants of noble families, who in that age possessed most of the great benefices in Germany, having become a proselyte to the doctrines of the reformers, had begun in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-three, with the assistance of Melanchthon and Bucer, to abolish the ancient superstition in his diocese, and to introduce in its place the rites established among the protestants. But the canons of his cathedral, who were not possessed with the same spirit of innovation, and who foresaw how fatal the leveling genius of the new sect would prove to their dignity and wealth, opposed, from the beginning, this unprecedented enterprise of their archbishop, with all the zeal flowing from reverence for old institutions, heightened by concern for their own interest. This opposition, which the archbishop considered only as a new argument to demonstrate the necessity of a reformation, neither shook his resolution, nor slackened his ardor in prosecuting his plan. The canons, perceiving all their endeavors to check his career to be ineffectual, solemnly protested against his proceedings, and appealed for redress to the pope and emperor, the former as ecclesiastical, the latter as his civil superior. This appeal being laid before the emperor, during his residence in Worms, he took the canons of Cologne under his immediate protection; enjoined them to proceed with rigor against all who revolted from the established church; prohibited the archbishop to make any innovation in his diocese; and summoned him to appear at Brussels within thirty days, to answer the accusations which should be preferred against him.

To this clear evidence of his hostile intentions against the protestant party, Charles added other proofs still more explicit. In his hereditary dominions of the Low-Countries, he persecuted all who were suspected of Lutheranism with unrelenting rigor. As soon as he arrived at Worms, he silenced the protestant preachers in that city. He allowed an Italian monk to inveigh against the Lutherans from the pulpit of his chapel, and to call upon him, as he regarded the favor of God, to exterminate that pestilent heresy. He despatched the embassy, which has been already mentioned, to Constantinople, with overtures of peace, that he might be free from any apprehension of danger or interruption from that quarter. Nor did any of these steps, or their dangerous tendency, escape the jealous observation of the protestants, or fail to alarm their fears, and to excite their solicitude for the safety of their sect.

Meanwhile, Charles’s good fortune, which predominated on all occasions over that of his rival Francis, extricated him out of a difficulty, from which, with all his sagacity and address, he would have found it no easy matter to have disentangled himself. Just about the time when the duke of Orleans should have received Ferdinand’s daughter in marriage, and together with her the possession of the Milanese, he died of a malignant fever [Sept. 8]. By this event, the emperor was freed from the necessity of giving up a valuable province into the hands of an enemy, or from the indecency of violating a recent and solemn engagement, which must have occasioned an immediate rupture with France. He affected, however, to express great sorrow for the untimely death of a young prince, who was to have been so nearly allied to him; but he carefully avoided entering into any fresh discussions concerning the Milanese; and would not listen to a proposal which came from Francis of new-modeling the treaty of Crespy, so as to make him some reparation for the advantages which he had lost by the demise of his son. In the more active and vigorous part of Francis's reign, a declaration of war would have been the certain and instantaneous consequence of such a flat refusal to comply with a demand seemingly so equitable; but the declining state of his own health, the exhausted condition of his kingdom, together with the burden of the war against England, obliged him, at present, to dissemble his resentment, and to put off thoughts of revenge to some other juncture. In consequence of this event, the unfortunate duke of Savoy lost all hope of obtaining the restitution of his territories; and the rights or claims relinquished by the treaty of Crespy returned in full force to the crown of France, to serve as pretexts for future wars.

Upon the first intelligence of the duke of Orleans' death, the confederates of Smalkalde flattered themselves that time essential alterations which appeared to be unavoidable consequences of it could hardly fail of producing a rupture, which would prove the means of their safety. But they were not more disappointed with regard to this, than in their expectations from an event which seemed to be the certain prelude of a quarrel between the emperor and the pope. When Paul, whose passion for aggrandizing his family increased as he advanced in years, and as he saw the dignity and power which they derived immediately from him becoming more precarious, found that he could not bring Charles to approve of his ambitious schemes, he ventured to grant his son Peter Lewis the investiture of Parma and Placentia, though at the risk of incurring the displeasure of the emperor. At a time when a great part of Europe inveighed openly against the corrupt manners and exorbitant power of ecclesiastics, and when a council was summoned to reform the disorders in the church, this indecent grant of such a principality, to a son, of whose illegitimate birth the pope ought to have been ashamed, and whose licentious morals all good men detested, gave general offence. Some cardinals in the Imperial interest remonstrated against such an unbecoming alienation of the patrimony of the church; the Spanish ambassador would not be present at the solemnity of his infeoffment; and upon pretext that these cities were part of the Milanese state, the emperor peremptorily refused to confirm the deed of investiture. But both the emperor and pope being intent upon one common object in Germany, they sacrificed their particular passions to that public cause, and suppressed the emotions of jealousy or resentment which were rising on this occasion, that they might jointly pursue what each deemed to be of greater importance.

About this time the peace of Germany was disturbed by a violent but short eruption of Henry duke of Brunswick. This prince, though still stript of his dominions, which the emperor held in sequestration, until his differences with the confederates of Smalkalde should be adjusted, possessed however so much credit in Germany, that he undertook to raise for the French king a considerable body of troops to be employed in the war against England. The money stipulated for this purpose was duly advanced by Francis; the troops were levied; but Henry, instead of leading them towards France, suddenly entered his own dominions at their head, in hopes of recovering possession of them before any army could be assembled to oppose him. The confederates were not more surprised at this unexpected attack, than the king of France was astonished at a mean thievish fraud, so unbecoming the character of a prince. But the landgrave of Hesse, with incredible expedition, collected as many men as put a stop to the progress of Henry's undisciplined forces, and being joined by his son-in-law, Maurice, and by some troops belonging to the elector of Saxony, he gained such advantages over Henry, who was rash and bold in forming his schemes, but feeble and undetermined in executing them, as obliged him to disband his army, and to surrender himself, together with his eldest son, prisoners at discretion. He was kept inclose confinement, until a new reverse of affairs procured him liberty.

As this defeat of Henry's wild enterprise added new reputation to the arms of the protestants, the establishment of the protestant religion in the palatinate brought a great accession of strength to their party. Frederick, who succeeded his brother Lewis in that electorate, had long been suspected of a secret propensity to the doctrines of the reformers, which, upon his accession to the principality, he openly manifested. But as he expected that something effectual towards a general and legal establishment of religion, would be the fruit of so many diets, conferences, and negotiations, he did not, at first, attempt any public innovation in his dominions. Finding all these issue in nothing, he thought himself called, at length [Jan. 10, 1546], to countenance by his authority the system which he approved of, and to gratify the wishes of his subjects, who, by their intercourse with the protestant states, had almost universally imbibed their opinions. As the warmth and impetuosity, which accompanied the spirit of reformation in its first efforts, had somewhat abated, this change was made with great order and regularity; the ancient rites were abolished, and new forms introduced, without any acts of violence, or symptom of discontent. Though Frederick adopted the religious system of the protestants, he imitated the example of Maurice, and did not accede to the league of Smalkalde.

A few weeks before this revolution in the palatinate, the general council was opened with the accustomed solemnities at Trent. The eyes of the catholic states were turned with much expectation towards an assembly, which all had considered as capable of applying an effectual remedy for the disorders of the church when they first broke out, though many were afraid that it was now too late to hope for great benefit from it, when the malady, by being suffered to increase during twenty-eight years, had become inveterate, and grown to such extreme violence. The pope, by his last bull of convocation, had appointed the first meeting to be held in March. But his views and those of the emperor were so different, that almost the whole year was spent in negotiations. Charles, who foresaw that the rigorous decrees of the council against the protestants would soon drive them, in self-defence as well as from resentment, to some desperate extreme, labored to put off its meeting until his warlike preparations were so far advanced, that he might be in a condition to second its decisions by the force of his arms. The pope, who had early sent to Trent the legates who were to preside in his name, knowing to what con­tempt it would expose his authority, and what suspicions it would beget of his intentions, if the fathers of the council should remain in a state of inactivity, when the church was in such danger as to require their immediate and vigorous interposition, insisted either upon translating the council to some city in Italy, or upon suspending altogether its proceedings at that juncture, or upon authorizing it to begin its deliberations immediately. The emperor rejected the two former expedients as equally offensive to the Germans of every denomination; but finding it impossible to elude the latter, he proposed that the council should begin with reforming the disorders in the church, before it proceeded to examine or define articles of faith. This was the very thing which the court of Rome dreaded most, and which had prompted it to employ so many artifices in order to prevent the meeting of such a dangerous judicatory. Paul, though more compliant than some of his predecessors with regard to calling a council, was no less jealous than they had been of its jurisdiction, and saw what matter of triumph such a method of proceeding would afford the heretics. He apprehended consequences not only humbling but fatal to the papal see, if the council came to consider an inquest into abuses as their only business; or if inferior prelates were allowed to gratify their own envy and peevishness, by prescribing rules to those who arc exalted above them in dignity and power. Without listening, therefore, to this insidious proposal of the emperor, he instructed his legates to open the council.

 

Jan. 18. THE OPENING OF THE COUNCIL OF TRENT

 

The first session was spent in matters of form.

In a subsequent one, it was agreed that the framing a confession of faith, wherein should be contained all the articles which the church required its members to believe, ought to be the first and principal business of the council, but that, at the same time, due attention should be given to what was necessary towards the reformation of manners and discipline. From this first symptom of the spirit with which the council was animated, from the high tone of authority which the legates who presided in it assumed, and from the implicit deference with which most of the members followed their directions, the protestants conjectured with ease what decisions they might expect. It astonished them, however, to see forty prelates (for no greater number were yet assembled) assume authority as representatives of the universal church, and proceed to determine the most important points of doctrine in its name. Sensible of this indecency, as well as of the ridicule with which it might be attended, the council advanced slowly in its deliberations, and all its proceedings were for some time languishing and feeble. As soon as the confederates of Smalkalde received information of the opening of the council, they published a long manifesto, containing a renewal of their protest against its meeting, together with the reasons which induced them to decline its jurisdictions. The pope and emperor, on their part, were so little solicitous to quicken or add vigour to its operations, as plainly discovered that some object of greater importance occupied and interested them.

The protestants were not inattentive or unconcerned spectators of the motions of the sovereign pontiff and of Charles, and they entertained every day more violent suspicions of their intentions, in consequence of intelligence received from different quarters of the machinations carrying on against them. The king of England informed them, that the emperor, having long resolved to exterminate their opinions, would not fail to employ this interval of tranquility which he now enjoyed, as the most favorable juncture for carrying his design into execution. The merchants of Augsburg, which was at that time a city of extensive trade, received advice, by means of their correspondents in Italy, among whom were some who secretly favored the protestant cause, that a dangerous confederacy against it was forming between the pope and emperor. In confirmation of this they heard from the Low-Countries, that Charles had issued orders, though with every precaution which could keep the measure concealed, for raising troops both there and in other parts of his dominions.

Such a variety raising information, and corroborating all that their own jealousy or observation led them to apprehend, left the protestants little reason to doubt of the emperor’s hostile intentions. Under this impression, the deputies of the confederates of Smalkalde assembled at Frankfort, and by communicating their intelligence and sentiments to each other, reciprocally heightened their sense of the impending danger. But their union was not such as their situation required, or the preparations of their enemies rendered necessary. Their league had now subsisted ten years. Among so many members, whose territories were intermingled with each other, and who, according to the custom of Germany, had created an infinite variety of mutual rights and claims by intermarriages, alliances, and contracts of different kinds, subjects of jealousy and discord had unavoidably arisen. Some of the confederates, being connected with the duke of Brunswick, were highly disgusted with the landgrave, on account of the rigor with which he had treated that rash and unfortunate prince. Others taxed the elector of Saxony and landgrave, the heads of the league, with having involved the members in unnecessary and exorbitant expenses by their profuseness or want of economy.

The views, likewise, and temper of those two princes, who by their superior power and authority, influenced and directed the whole body, being extremely different, rendered all its motions languid at a time when the utmost vigour and dispatch were requisite. The landgrave, of a violent and enterprising temper, but not forgetful, amidst his zeal for religion, of the usual maxims of human policy, insisted that as the danger which threatened them was manifest and unavoidable, they should have recourse to the most effectual expedient for securing their own safety, by courting the protection of the kings of France and England, or by joining in alliance with the protestant cantons of Switzerland, from whom they might expect such powerful and present assistance as their situation demanded.

The elector on the other hand, with the most upright intentions of any prince in that age, and with talents which might have qualified him abundantly for the administration of government in any tranquil period, was possessed with such superstitious veneration for all the parts of the Lutheran system, and such bigotten attachment to all its tenets, as made him averse to a union with those who differed from him in any article of faith, and rendered him very incapable of undertaking its defence in times of difficulty and danger. He seemed to think, that the concerns of religion were to be regulated by principles and maxims totally different from those which apply to the common affairs of life; and being swayed too much by the opinions of Luther, who was not only a stranger to the rules of political conduct, but despised them; he often discovered an uncomplying spirit, that proved of the greatest detriment to the cause which he wished to support.

Influenced, on this occasion, by the severe and rigid notions of that reformer, he refused to enter into any confederacy with Francis, because he was a persecutor of the truth; or to solicit the friendship of Henry, because he was no less impious and profane than the pope himself; or even to join in alliance with the Swiss, because they differed from the Germans in several essential articles of faith. This dissension, about a point of such consequence, produced its natural effects. Each secretly censured and reproached the other.

The landgrave considered the elector as fettered by narrow prejudices, unworthy of a prince called to act a chief part in a scene of such importance. The elector suspected the landgrave of loose principles and ambitious views, which corresponded ill with the sacred cause wherein they were engaged. But though the elector's scruples prevented their timely application for foreign aid; and the jealousy or discontent of the other princes defeated a proposal for renewing their original confederacy, the term during which it was to continue in force being on the point of expiring; yet the sense of their common danger induced them to agree with regard to other points, particularly that they would never acknowledge the assembly at Trent as a lawful council, nor suffer the archbishop of Cologne to be oppressed on account of the steps which he had taken towards the reformation of his diocese.

The landgrave, about this time, desirous of penetrating to the bottom of the emperor's intentions, wrote to Granvelle, whom he knew to be thoroughly acquainted with all his masters schemes, informing him of the several particulars which raised the suspicions of the protestants, and begging an explicit declaration of what they had to fear or to hope. Granvelle, in return, assured them, that the intelligence which they had received of the emperor's military preparations was exaggerated, and all their suspicions destitute of foundation; that though, in order to guard his frontiers against any insult of the French or English, he had commanded a small body of men to be raised in the Low-Countries, he was as solicitous as ever to maintain tranquility in Germany.

But the emperor's actions did not correspond with these professions of his minister. For instead of appointing men of known moderation and a pacific temper to appear in defence of the catholic doctrines at the conference which had been agreed on, he made choice of fierce bigots, attached to their own system with a blind obstinacy, that rendered all hope of a reconcilement desperate. Malvenda, a Spanish divine, who took upon him the conduct of the debate on the part of the catholics, managed it with all the subtle dexterity of a scholastic metaphysician, more studious to perplex his adversaries than to convince them, and more intent on palliating error than on discovering truth. The protestants, tilled with indignation, as well at his sophistry as at some regulations which the emperor endeavored to impose on the disputants, broke off the conference abruptly, being now fully convinced that, in all his late measures, the emperor could have no other view than to amuse them, and to gain time for ripening his own schemes.

 

 

BOOK VIII.

DEATH OF MARTIN LUTHER