THE REIGN OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES V

BOOK IX.

DEATH OF FRANCIS I

THE emperor’s dread of the hostile intentions of the pope and French king did not proceed from any imaginary or ill-grounded suspicion. Paul had already given the strongest proofs both of his jealousy and enmity.

Charles could not hope that Francis, after a rivalship of so long continuance, would behold the great advantages which he had gained over the confederate protestants, without feeling his ancient emulation revive. He was not deceived in this conjecture. Francis had observed the rapid progress of his arms with deep concern, and though hitherto prevented by circumstances which have been mentioned, from interposing in order to check them, he was now convinced that, if he did not make some extraordinary and timely effort, Charles must acquire such a degree of power as would enable him to give law to the rest of Europe. This apprehension, which did not take its rise from the jealousy of rivalship alone, but was entertained by the wisest politicians of the age, suggested various expedients which might serve to retard the course of the emperor's victories, and to form by degrees such a combination against him as might put a stop to his dangerous career.

With this view, Francis instructed his emissaries in Germany to employ all their address in order to revive the courage of the confederates, and to prevent them from submitting to the emperor. He made liberal offers of his assistance to the elector and landgrave, whom he knew to be the most zealous as well as the most powerful of the whole body; he used every argument and proposed every advantage which could either confirm their dread of the emperor's designs, or determine them not to imitate the inconsiderate credulity of their associates, in giving up their religion and liberties to his disposal. While he took this step towards continuing the civil war which raged in Germany, he endeavored likewise to stir up foreign enemies against the emperor. He solicited Solyman to seize this favorable opportunity of invading Hungary, which had been drained of all the troops necessary for its defence, in order to form the army against the confederates of Smalkalde. He exhorted the pope to repair, by a vigorous and seasonable effort, the error of which he had been guilty in contributing to raise the emperor to such a formidable height of power. Finding Paul, both from the consciousness of his own mistake, and his dread of its consequences, abundantly disposed to listen to what he suggested, he availed himself of this favorable disposition which the pontiff began to discover, as an argument to gain the Venetians. He endeavored to convince them that nothing could save Italy, and even Europe, from oppression and servitude, but their joining with the pope and him, in giving the first beginning to a general confederacy, in order to humble that ambitious potentate, whom they had all equal reason to dread.

Having set on foot these negotiations, in the southern courts, he turned his attention next towards those in the north of Europe. As the king of Denmark had particular reasons to be offended with the emperor, Francis imagined that the object of the league which he had projected would be highly acceptable to him: and lest considerations of caution or prudence would restrain him from joining in it, he attempted to overcome these, by offering him the young queen of Scots in marriage to his son. As the ministers who governed England in the name of Edward VI had openly declared themselves converts to the opinions of the reformers, as soon as it became safe upon Henry's death to lay aside that disguise which his intolerant bigotry had forced them to assume, Francis flattered himself that their zeal would not allow them to remain inactive spectators of the overthrow and destruction of those who professed the same faith with themselves. He hoped, that notwithstanding the struggles of faction incident to a minority, and the prospect of an approaching rupture with the Scots, he might prevail on them likewise to take part in the common cause.

While Francis employed such a variety of expedients, and exerted himself with such extraordinary activity, to rouse the different states of Europe against his rival, he did not neglect what depended on himself alone. He levied troops in all parts of his dominions; he collected military stores; he contracted with the Swiss cantons for a considerable body of men; he put his finances in admirable order; he remitted considerable sums to the elector and landgrave; and took all the other steps necessary towards commencing hostilities on the shortest warning, and with the greatest vigour.

Operations so complicated, and which required the putting so many instruments in motion, did not escape the emperor's observation. He was early informed of Francis’s intrigues in the several courts of Europe, as well as of his domestic preparations; and sensible how fatal an interruption a foreign war would prove to his designs in Germany, he trembled at the prospect of that event. The danger, however, appeared to him as unavoidable as it was great. He knew the insatiable and well directed ambition of Solyman, and that he always chose the season for beginning his military enterprises with prudence equal to the valor with which he conducted them. The pope, as he had good reason to believe, wanted not pretexts to justify a rupture, nor inclination to begin hostilities. He had already made some discovery of his sentiments, by expressing a joy altogether unbecoming the head of the church, upon receiving an account of the advantage which the elector of Saxony had gained over Albert of Brandenburg; and as he was now secure of finding, in the French king, an ally of sufficient power to support him, he was at no pains to conceal the violence and extent of his enmity. The Venetians, Charles was well assured, had long observed the growth of his power with jealousy, which, added to the solicitations and promises of France, might at last quicken their slow counsels, and overcome their natural caution. The Danes and English, it was evident, had both peculiar reason to be disgusted, as well as strong motives to act against him. But above all, he dreaded the active emulation of Francis himself, whom he considered as the soul and mover of any confederacy that could be formed against him; and as that monarch had afforded protection to Verrina, who sailed directly to Marseilles upon the miscarriage of Fiesco’s conspiracy, Charles expected every moment to see the commencement of those hostile operations in Italy, of which he conceived the insurrection in Genoa to have been only the prelude.

But while he remained in this state of suspense and solicitude, there was one circumstance which afforded him some prospect of avoiding the danger. The French king’s health began to decline. A disease, which was the effect of his intemperance and inconsiderate pursuit of pleasure, preyed gradually on his constitution. The preparations for war, as well as the negotiations in the different courts, began to languish, together with the monarch who gave spirit to both. The Genoese, during that interval [March] reduced Montobbio, took Jerome Fiesco prisoner, and having put him to death, together with his chief adherents, extinguished all remains of the conspiracy. Several of the Imperial cities in Germany, despairing of timely assistance from France, submitted to the emperor. Even the landgrave seemed disposed to abandon the elector, and to bring matters to a speedy accommodation, on such terms as he could obtain. In the meantime, Charles waited with impatience the issue of a distemper, which was to decide whether he must relinquish all other schemes, in order to pre­pare for resisting a combination of the greater part of Europe against him, or whether he might proceed to invade Saxony, without interruption or fear of danger.

The good fortune, so remarkably propitious to his family, that some historians have called it the Star of the House of Austria, did not desert him on this occasion. Francis died at Rambouillet, on the last day of March, in the fifty-third year of his age, and the thirty-third of his reign. During twenty-eight years of that time, an avowed rivalship subsisted between him and the emperor, which involved not only their own dominions, but the greater part of Europe, in wars, which were prosecuted with more violent animosity, and drawn out to a greater length, than had been known in any former period. Many circumstances contributed to this. Their animosity was founded in opposition of interest, heightened by personal emulation, and exasperated not only by mutual injuries, but by reciprocal insults. At the same time, whatever advantage one seemed to possess towards gaining the ascendant, was wonderfully balanced by some favorable circumstance peculiar to the other.

The emperor's dominions were of greater extent, the French king's lay more compact; Francis governed his kingdom with absolute power; that of Charles was limited, but he supplied the want of authority by address : the troops of the former were more impetuous and enterprising; those of the latter better disciplined, and more patient of fatigue. The talents and abilities of the two monarchs were as different as the advantages which they possessed, and contributed no less to prolong the contest between them. Francis took his resolutions suddenly, prosecuted them at first with warmth, and pushed them into execution with a most adventurous courage; but being destitute of the perseverance necessary to surmount difficulties, he often abandoned his designs, or relaxed the vigor of pursuit, from impatience, and sometimes from levity. Charles deliberated long, and determined with coolness; but having once fixed his plan, he adhered to it with inflexible obstinacy, and neither danger nor discouragement could turn him aside from the execution of it. The success of their enterprises was suitable to the diversity of their characters, and was uniformly influenced by it. Francis, by his impetuous activity, often disconcerted the emperor’s best laid schemes; Charles, by a more calm but steady prosecution of his designs, checked the rapidity of his rival’s career, and baffled or repulsed his most vigorous efforts. The former, at the opening of a war or of a campaign broke in upon his enemy with the violence of a torrent, and carried all before him; the latter, waiting until he saw the force of his rival begin to abate, recovered in the end not only all that he had lost, but made new acquisitions. Few of the French monarch's attempts towards conquest, whatever promising aspect they might wear at first, were conducted to a happy issue; many of the emperor’s enterprises, even after they appeared desperate and impracticable, terminated in the most prosperous manner. Francis was dazzled with the splendor of an undertaking; Charles was allured by the prospect of its turning to his advantage.

The degree, however, of their comparative merit and reputation has not been fixed either by a strict scrutiny into their abilities for government, or by an impartial consideration of the greatness and success of their undertakings; and Francis is one of those monarchs who occupies a higher rank in the temple of Fame, than either his talents or performances entitle him to hold. This pre-eminence he owed to many different circumstances.

The superiority which Charles acquired by the victory of Pavia, and which from that period he preserved through the remainder of his reign, was so manifest, that Francis’s struggle against his exorbitant and growing dominion was viewed by most of the other powers, not only with the partiality which naturally arises for those who gallantly maintain an unequal contest, but with the favor due to one who was resisting a common enemy, and endeavoring to set bounds to a monarch equally formidable to them all. The characters of princes, too, especially among their contemporaries, depend not only upon their talents for government, but upon their qualities as men. Francis, notwithstanding the many errors conspicuous in his foreign policy and domestic administration, was nevertheless humane, beneficent, and generous. He possessed dignity without pride; affability free from meanness; and courtesy exempt from deceit. All who had access to him, and no man of merit was ever denied that privilege, respected and loved him. Captivated with his personal qualities, his subjects forgot his defects as a monarch, and admiring him as the most accomplished and amiable gentleman in his dominions, they hardly murmured at acts of maladministration, which, in a prince of less engaging dispositions, would have been deemed unpardonable.

This admiration, however, must have been temporary only, and would have died away, with the courtiers who bestowed it; the illusion arising from his private virtues must have ceased, and posterity would have judged of his public conduct with its usual impartiality; but another circumstance prevented this, and his name hath been transmitted to posterity with increasing reputation. Science and the arts had, at that time, made little progress in France. They were just beginning to advance beyond the limits of Italy, where they had revived, and which had hitherto been their only seat. Francis took them immediately under his protection, and vied with Leo himself, in the zeal and munificence with which he encouraged them. He invited learned men to his court, he conversed with them familiarly, he employed them in business, he raised them to offices of dignity, and honored them with his confidence. That order of men, not more prone to complain when denied the respect to which they conceive themselves entitled, than apt to be pleased when treated with the distinction which they consider as their due, thought they could not exceed in gratitude to such a benefactor, and strained their invention, and employed all their ingenuity in panegyric. Succeeding authors, warmed with their descriptions of Francis’s bounty, adopted their encomiums, and even added to them. The appellation of Father of Letters bestowed upon Francis, hath rendered his memory sacred among historians and they seem to has e regarded it as a sort of impiety to uncover his infirmities, or to point out his defects. Thus Francis, notwithstanding his inferior abilities, and want of success, hath more than equaled the fame of Charles. The good qualities which he possessed as a man, have entitled him to greater admiration and praise than have been bestowed upon the extensive genius and fortunate arts of a more capable, but less amiable rival.

By his death a considerable change was made in the state of Europe. Charles, grown old in the arts of government and command, had now to contend only with younger monarchs, who could not be regarded as worthy to enter the lists with him, who had stood so many encounters with Henry VIII and Francis I, and come off with honor in all those different struggles. By this event, he was eased of all his disquietude, and was happy to find that he might begin with safety those operations against the elector of Saxony, which he had hitherto been obliged to suspend. He knew the abilities of Henry II, who had just mounted the throne of France, to be greatly inferior to those of his father, and foresaw that he would be so much occupied for some time in displacing the late king's ministers, whom he hated, and in gratifying the ambitious demands of his own favorites, that he had nothing to dread, either from his personal efforts, or from any confederacy which this inexperienced prince could form.

But as it was uncertain how long such an interval of security might continue, Charles determined instantly to improve it: and as soon as he heard of Francis’s demise, he began his march [April 13] from Egra on the borders of Bohemia. But the departure of the papal troops, together with the retreat of the Flemings, had so much diminished his army, that sixteen thousand men were all he could assemble.

With this inconsiderable body he set out on an expedition, the event of which was to decide what degree of authority he should possess from that period in Germany; but as this little army consisted chiefly of the veteran Spanish and Italian, bands, he did not, in trusting to them, commit much to the decision of most sanguine hopes of success. The Elector had levied an army greatly superior in number; but neither the experience and discipline of his troops, nor the abilities of his officers, were to be compared with those of the emperor. The elector, besides, had already been guilty of an error, which deprived him of all the advantage which he might have derived from his superiority in number, and was alone sufficient to have occasioned his ruin. Instead of keeping his forces united, he detached one great body towards the frontiers of Bohemia, in order to facilitate his junction with the malcontents of that kingdom, and cantoned a considerable part of what remained in different places of Saxony, where he expected the emperor would make the first impression, vainly imagining that open towns, with small garrisons, might be rendered tenable against an enemy.

The emperor entered the southern frontier of Saxony, and attacked Altorl upon the Elster. The impropriety of the measure which the elector had taken was immediately seen, the troops posted in that town surrendering without resistance; and those in all the other places between that and the Elbe, either imitated their example, or fled as the Imperialists approached. Charles, that they might not recover from the panic with which they seemed to be struck, advanced without losing a moment.

The elector, who had fixed his head quarters at Meissen, continued in his wonted state of fluctuation and uncertainly. He even became more undetermined, in proportion as the danger drew near, and called for prompt and decisive resolutions. Sometimes he acted as if he had resolved to defend the banks of the Elbe, and to hazard a battle with the enemy, as soon as the detachments which he had called in were able to join him. At other times he abandoned this as rash and perilous, seeming to adopt the more prudent counsels of those who advised him to endeavor at protracting the war, and for that end to retire under the fortifications of Wittenberg, where the Imperialists could not attack him without manifest disadvantage, and where he might wait, in safety, for the succors which he expected from Mecklenburg, Pomerania, and the protestant cities on the Baltic. Without fixing upon either of these plans, he broke down the bridge at Meissen, and marched along the east bank of the Elbe to Muhlberg. There he deliberated anew, and, after much hesitation, adopted one of those middle schemes, which are always acceptable to feeble minds incapable of deciding. He left a detachment at Muhlberg to oppose the Imperialists, if they should attempt to pass at that place, and advancing a few miles with his main body, encamped there in expectation of the event, according to which lie proposed to regulate his subsequent motions.

Charles, meanwhile, pushing forward incessantly, arrived the evening of the twenty-third of April on the banks of the Elbe, opposite to Muhlberg. The river, at that place, was three hundred paces in breadth, above four feet in depth, its current rapid, and the bank possessed by the Saxons was higher than that which he occupied. Undismayed, however, by all these obstacles, he called together his general officers, and, without asking their opinions, communicated to them his intention of attempting next morning to force his passage over the river, and to attack the enemy wherever he could come up with them. They all expressed their astonishment at such a bold resolution and even the duke of Alva, though naturally daring and impetuous, and Maurice of Saxony, notwithstanding his impatience to crush his rival the elector, remonstrated earnestly against it. But the emperor, confiding in his own judgment or good fortune, paid no regard to their arguments, and gave the orders necessary for executing his designs.

Early in the morning a body of Spanish and Italian foot marched towards the river, and began an incessant fire upon the enemy. The long heavy muskets used in that age, did execution on the opposite bank, and many of the soldiers, hurried on by martial ardor, in order to get nearer the enemy, rushed into the stream, and, advancing breast high, fired with a more certain aim, and with greater effect. Under cover of their fire, a bridge of boats was begun to be laid for the infantry; and a peasant having undertaken to conduct the cavalry through the river by a ford with which he was well acquainted, they also were put in motion. The Saxons posted in Muhlberg endeavored to obstruct these operations by a brisk fire from a battery which they had erected, but as a thick fog covered all the low grounds upon the river, they could not take aim with any certainty, and the Imperialists suffered very little; at the same time the Saxons being much galled by the Spaniards and Italians, they set on tire some boats which had been collected near the village, and prepared to retire. The Imperialists perceiving this, ten Spanish soldiers instantly strip themselves, and holding their swords with their teeth, swam across the river, put to flight such of the Saxons as ventured to oppose them, saved from the flames as many boats as were sufficient to complete their own bridge, and by this spirited and successful action, encouraged their companions no less than they intimidated the enemy.

By this time the cavalry, each trooper having a foot soldier behind him, began to enter the river, the light horse marching in the front, followed by the men at arms, whom the emperor led in person, mounted on a Spanish horse, dressed in a sumptuous habit, and carrying a javelin in his hand. Such a numerous body struggling through a great river, in which, according to the directions of their guide, they were obliged to make several turns, sometimes treading on a firm bottom, sometimes swimming, presented to their companions, whom they left behind, a spectacle equally magnificent and interesting. Their courage, at last, surmounted every obstacle, no man betraying any symptom of fear, when the emperor shared in the danger no less than the meanest soldier. The moment that they reached the opposite side, Charles, without waiting the arrival of the rest of the infantry, advanced towards the Saxons with the troops which had passed along with him, who, flushed with their good fortune, and despising an enemy who had neglected to oppose them, when it might have been done with such advantage, made no account of their superior numbers, and marched on as to a certain victory.

During all these operations, which necessarily consumed much lime, the elector remained inactive in his camp and from an infatuation which appears to be so amazing, that the best informed historians impute it to the treacherous arts of his generals, who deceived him by false intelligence, he would not believe that the emperor had passed the river, or could be so near at hand. Being convinced, at last, of his fatal mistake, by the concurring testimony of eye-witnesses, he gave orders for retreating towards Wittenberg. But a German army, encumbered, as usual, with baggage and artillery, could not be put suddenly in motion. They had just begun to march when the light troops of the enemy came in view, and the elector saw an engagement to be unavoidable. As he was no less bold in action than irresolute in council, he made the disposition for battle with the greatest presence of mind, and in the most proper manner, taking advantage of a great forest to cover his wings, so as to prevent his being surrounded by the enemy’s cavalry, which were far more numerous than his own. The emperor, likewise, ranged his men in order as they came up, and riding along the ranks, exhorted them with few but efficacious words to do their duty. It was with a very different spirit that the two armies advanced to the charge.

As the day, which had hitherto been dark and cloudy, happened to clear up at that moment, this accidental circumstance made an impression on the different parties corresponding to the tone of their minds; the Saxons, surprised and disheartened, felt pain at being exposed fully to the view of the enemy; the Imperialists, being now secure that the protestant forces could not escape from them, rejoiced at the return of sunshine, as a certain presage of victory.

The shock of battle would not have been long doubtful, if the personal courage which the elector displayed, together with the activity which he exerted from the moment that the approach of the enemy rendered an engagement certain, and cut off all possibility of hesitation, had not revived in some degree the spirit of his troops. They repulsed the Hungarian light-horse who began the attack, and received with firmness the men at arms who next advanced to the charge; but as these were the flower of the Imperial army, were commanded by experienced officers, and fought under the emperor’s eye, the Saxons soon began to give way, and the light troops rallying at the same time, and falling on their flanks, the flight became general. A small body of chosen soldiers, among whom the elector had fought in person, still continued to defend themselves, and endeavored to save their master by retiring into the forest; but being surrounded on every side, the elector wounded in the face, exhausted with fatigue, and perceiving all resistance to be vain, surrendered himself a prisoner.

He was conducted immediately towards the emperor, whom he found just returned from the pursuit, standing on the field of battle in the full exultation of success, and receiving the congratulations of his officers, upon this complete victory obtained by his valor and conduct. Even in such an unfortunate and humbling situation, the elector's behavior was equally magnanimous and decent. Sensible of his condition, he approached his conqueror without any of the sullenness or pride which would have been improper in a captive; and conscious of his own dignity, he descended to no mean submission, unbecoming the high station which he held among the German princes. “The fortune of war”, said he, “has made me your prisoner, most gracious emperor, and I hope to be treated”—Here Charles harshly interrupted him: “And am I then, at last, acknowledged to be emperor? Charles of Ghent was the only title you lately allowed me. You shall be treated as you deserve”. At these words he turned from him abruptly with a haughty air. To this cruel repulse, the king of the Romans added reproaches in his own name, using expressions still more ungenerous and insulting. The elector made no reply; but, with an unaltered countenance, which discovered neither astonishment nor dejection, accompanied the Spanish soldiers appointed to guard him.

THE SURRENDER OF WITTENBERG

This decisive victory cost the Imperialists only fifty men. Twelve hundred of the Saxons were killed, chiefly in the pursuit, and a greater number taken prisoners. About four hundred kept in a body, and escaped to Wittenberg, together with the electoral prince, who had likewise been wounded in the action. After resting two days in the field of battle, partly to refresh his army, and partly to receive the deputies of the adjacent towns, which were impatient to secure his protection by submitting to his will, the emperor began to move towards Wittenberg, that he might terminate the war at once, by the reduction of that city. The unfortunate elector was carried along in a sort of triumph, and exposed everywhere, as a captive, to his own subjects; a spectacle extremely afflicting to them, who both honored and loved him; though the insult was so far from subduing his firm spirit, that it did not even ruffle the wonted tranquility and composure of his mind.

As Wittenberg, the residence, in that age, of the electoral branch of the Saxon family, was one of the strongest cities in Germany, and could not be taken, if properly defended, without great difficulty, the emperor marched thither with the utmost dispatch, hoping that while the consternation occasioned by his victory was still recent, the inhabitants might imitate the example of their countrymen, and submit to his power, as soon as he appeared before their walls.

But Sybilla of Cleves, the elector’s wife, a woman no less distinguished by her abilities than her virtue, instead of abandoning herself to tears and lamentations upon her husband’s misfortune, endeavored by her example as well as exhortations, to animate the citizens. She inspired them with such resolution, that, when summoned to surrender, they returned a vigorous answer, warning the emperor to behave towards their sovereign with the respect due to his rank, as they were determined to treat Albert of Brandenburg, who was still a prisoner, precisely in the same manner that he treated the elector. The spirit of the inhabitants, no less than the strength of the city, seemed now to render a siege in form necessary. After such a signal victory, it would have beer disgraceful not to have undertaken it, though at the same time the emperor was destitute of everything requisite for carrying it on. But Maurice removed all difficulties by engaging to furnish provisions, artillery, ammunition, pioneers, and whatever else should be needed. Trusting to this, Charles gave orders to open the trenches before the town. It quickly appeared, that Maurice’s eagerness to reduce the capital of those dominions, which he expected as his reward for taking arms against his kinsman and deserting the protestant cause, had led him to promise what exceeded his power to perform. A battering train was, indeed, carried safely down the Elbe from Dresden to Wittenberg; but as Maurice had not sufficient force to preserve a secure communication between his own territories and the camp of the besiegers, count Mansfeldt, who commanded a body of electoral troops, intercepted and destroyed a convoy of provisions and military stores, and dispersed a band of pioneers destined for the service of the Imperialists. This put a stop to the progress of the siege, and convinced the emperor, that as he could not rely on Maurice’s promises, recourse ought to be had to some more expeditious as well as more certain method of getting possession of the town.

The unfortunate elector was in his hands and Charles was ungenerous and hard-hearted enough to take advantage of this, in order to make an experiment whether he might not bring about his design, by working upon the tenderness of a wife for her husband, or upon the piety of children towards their parent. With this view, he summoned Sybilla a second time to open the gates, letting her know that if she again refused to comply, the elector should answer with his head for her obstinacy. To convince her that this was not an empty threat, he brought his prisoner to an immediate trial. The proceedings against him were as irregular as the stratagem was barbarous. Instead of consulting the states of the empire, or remitting the cause to any court, which, according to the German constitution, might have legally taken cognizance of the elector’s crime, he subjected the greatest prince in the empire to the jurisdiction of a court-martial, composed of Spanish and Italian officers, and in which the unrelenting duke of Alva, a fit instrument for any act of violence, presided [May 101]. This strange tribunal founded its charge upon the ban of the empire which had been issued against the prisoner by the sole authority of the emperor, and was destitute of every legal formality which could render it valid. But the court-martial, presuming the elector to be thereby manifestly convicted of treason and rebellion, condemned him to stiffer death by being beheaded. This decree was intimated to the elector while he was amusing himself in playing at chess with Ernest of Brunswick his fellow-prisoner. He paused for a moment, thought without discovering any symptom either of surprise or terror; and after taking notice of the irregularity as well as injustice of the emperor's proceedings: “It is easy, continued he, to comprehend his scheme. I must die, because Wittemberg will not surrender; and I shall lay down my life with pleasure, if, by that sacrifice, I can preserve the dignity of my house, and transmit to my posterity the inheritance which belongs to them. Would to God that this sentence may not affect my wife and children more than it intimidates me! and that they, for the sake of adding a few days to a life already too long, may not renounce honors and territories which they were born to possess!”. He then turned to his antagonist, whom he challenged to continue the game. He played with his usual attention and ingenuity, and having beat Ernest, expressed all the satisfaction which is commonly felt on gaining such victories. After this, he withdrew to his own apartment, that he might employ the rest of his time in such religious exercises as were proper in his situation.

It was not with the same indifference, or composure, that the account of the elector's danger was received in Wittenberg. Sybilla, who had supported with such undaunted fortitude her husband’s misfortunes, while she imagined that they could reach no farther than to diminish his power or territories, felt all her resolution fail as soon as his life was threatened.

Solicitous to save that, she despised every other consideration; and was willing to make any sacrifice, in order to appease an incensed conqueror. At the same time, the duke of Cleves, the elector of Brandenburg, and Maurice, to none of whom Charles had communicated the true motives of his violent proceedings against the elector, interceded warmly with him to spare his life. The first was prompted so to do merely in compassion for his sister, and regard for his brother-in-law. The two others dreaded the universal reproach that they would incur, if, after having boasted so often of the ample security which the emperor had promised them with respect to their religion, the first effect of their union with him should be the public execution of a prince, who was justly held in reverence as the most zealous protector of the protestant cause. Maurice, in particular, foresaw that he must become the object of detestation to the Saxons, and could never hope to govern them with tranquility, if he were considered by them as accessary to the death of his nearest kinsman, in order that he might obtain possession of his dominions.

While they, from such various motives, solicited Charles, with the most earnest importunity, not to execute the sentence; Sybilla, and his children, conjured the elector, by letters as well as messengers, to scruple at no concession that would extricate him out of the present danger, and deliver them from their fears and anguish on his account. The emperor, perceiving that the expedient which he had tried began to produce the effect that he intended, fell by degrees from his former rigor, and allowed himself to soften into promises of clemency and forgiveness, if the elector would show himself worthy of his favor, by submitting to reasonable terms. The elector, on whom the consideration of what he might suffer himself had made no impression, was melted by the tears of his wife whom he loved, and could not resist the entreaties of his family. In compliance with their repeated solicitations, he agreed to articles of accommodation [May 191], which he would otherwise have rejected with disdain. The chief of them were, that he should resign the electoral dignity, as well for himself as for his posterity, into the emperor’s hands, to be disposed of entirely at his pleasure; that he should instantly put the Imperial troops in possession of the cities of Wittenberg and Gotha; that he should set Albert of Brandenburg at liberty without ransom; that he should submit to the decrees of the Imperial chamber, and acquiesce in whatever reformation the emperor should make in the constitution of that court; that he should renounce ill leagues against the emperor or king of the Romans, and enter into no alliance for the future, in which they were not comprehended.

In return for these important concessions, the emperor not only promised to spare his life, but to settle on him and his posterity the city of Gotha and its territories, together with an annual pension of fifty thousand florins, payable out of the revenues of the electorate; and likewise to grant him a sum in ready money to be applied towards the discharge of his debts. Even these articles of grace were clogged with the mortifying condition of his remaining, the emperor’s prisoner during the rest of his life. To the whole, Charles had subjoined, that he should submit to the decrees of the pope and council with regard to the controverted points in religion; but the elector, though he had been persuaded to sacrifice all the objects which men commonly hold to be the dearest and most valuable, was inflexible with regard to this point; and neither threats nor entreaties could prevail to make him renounce what he deemed to be truth, or persuade him to act in opposition to the dictates of his conscience.

As soon as the Saxon garrison marched out of Wittenberg, the emperor fulfilled his engagements to Maurice; and in reward for his merit in having deserted the protestant cause, and having contributed with such success towards the dissolution of the Smalkaldic league, he gave him possession of that city, together with all the other towns in the electorate.

It was not without reluctance, however, that he made such a sacrifice; the extraordinary success of his arms had begun to operate in its usual manner, upon his ambitious mind, suggesting new and vast projects for the aggrandizement of his family, towards the accomplishment of which the retaining of Saxony would have been of the utmost consequence. But as this scheme was not then ripe for execution, he durst not yet venture to disclose it; nor would it have been either safe or prudent to offend Maurice at this juncture, by such a manifest violation of all the promises which had seduced him to abandon his natural allies.

THE REDUCTION OF SAXONY

The landgrave, Maurice’s father-in-law, was still in arms; and though now left alone to maintain the protestant cause, was neither a feeble nor contemptible enemy. His dominions were of considerable extent; his subjects animated with zeal for the reformation; and if he could have held the Imperialists at bay for a short time, he had much to hope from a party whose strength was still unbroken, whose union as well as vigour might return, and which had reason to depend, with certainty, on being effectually supported by the king of France. The landgrave thought not of anything so bold or adventurous; but being seized with the same consternation which had taken possession of his associates, be was intent only on the means of procuring favorable terms from the emperor whom he viewed as a conqueror, to whose will there was a necessity of submitting. Maurice encouraged this tame and pacific spirit, by magnifying, on the one hand, the emperor's power; by boasting, on the other, of his own interest with his victorious ally; and by representing the advantageous conditions which he could not fail of obtaining by his intercession for a friend, whom he was so solicitous to save. Sometimes the landgrave was induced to place such unbounded confidence in his promises, that he was impatient to bring matters to a final accommodation. On other occasions, the emperor's exorbitant ambition, restrained neither by the scruples of decency, nor the maxims of justice, together with the recent and shocking proof which he had given of this in his treatment of the elector of Saxony, came so full into his thoughts, and made such a lively impression on them, that he broke off abruptly the negotiations which he had begun seeming to be convinced that it was more prudent to depend for safety on his own arms, than to confide in Charles’s generosity. But this bold resolution, which despair had suggested to an impatient spirit, fretted by disappointments, was not of long continuance. Upon a more deliberate survey of the enemy’s power, as well as his own weakness, his doubts and fears returned upon him, and together with them the spirit of negotiating, and the desire of accommodation.

Maurice and the elector of Brandenburg acted as mediators between him and the emperor; and after all that the former had vaunted of his influence, the conditions prescribed to the landgrave were extremely rigorous. The articles with regard to his renouncing the league of Smalkalde, acknowledging the emperor’s authority, and submitting to the decrees of the Imperial chamber, were the same which had been imposed on the elector of Saxony. Besides these, he was required to surrender his person and territories to the emperor; to implore for pardon on his knees; to pay a hundred and fifty thousand crowns towards defraying the expenses of the war; to demolish the fortifications of all the towns in his dominions except one; to oblige the garrison which he placed in it to take an oath of fidelity to the emperor; to allow a free passage through his territories to the Imperial troops as often as it shall be demanded; to deliver up all his artillery and ammunition to the emperor; to set at liberty, without ransom, Henry of Brunswick, together with the other prisoners whom he had taken during the war; and neither to take arms himself, nor to permit any of his subjects to serve against the emperor or his allies for the future.

The landgrave ratified these articles, though with the utmost reluctance, as they contained no stipulation with regard to the manner in which he was to be treated, and left him entirely at the emperor's mercy. Necessity, however, compelled him to give his assent to them. Charles, who had assumed the haughty and imperious tone of a conqueror, ever since the reduction of Saxony, insisted on unconditional submission, and would permit nothing to be added to the terms which he had prescribed, that could in any degree limit the fullness of his power, or restrain him from behaving as he saw meet towards a prince whom he regarded as absolutely at his disposal. But though he would not vouchsafe to negotiate with the landgrave on such a footing of equality, as to suffer any article to be inserted among those which he had dictated to him, that could be considered as a formal stipulation for the security and freedom of his own person; he, or his ministers in his name, gave the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice such full satisfaction with regard to this point, that they assured the landgrave, that Charles would behave to him in the same way as he had done to the duke of Württemberg, and would allow him, whenever he had made his submission, to return to his own territories. Upon finding the landgrave to be still possessed with his former suspicions of the emperor's intentions, and unwilling to trust verbal or ambiguous declarations, in a matter of such essential-concern as his own liberty, they sent him a bond signed by them both, containing the most solemn obligations, that if any violence whatsoever was offered to his person, during his interview with the emperor, they would instantly surrender themselves to his sons, and remain in their hands to be treated by them in the same manner as the emperor should treat him.

This, together with the indispensable obligation of performing what was contained in the articles of which he had accepted, removed his doubts and scruples, or made it necessary to get over them. He repaired for that purpose, to the Imperial camp at Halle in Saxony, where a circumstance occurred which revived his suspicions and increased his fears. Just as he was about to enter the chamber of presence, in order to make his public submission to the emperor, a copy of the articles which he had approved of was put into his hands, in order that he might ratify them anew. Upon perusing them, he perceived that the imperial ministers had added two new articles; one importing, that if any dispute should arise concerning the meaning of the former conditions, the emperor should have the right of putting what interpretation upon them he thought most reasonable; the other, that the landgrave was bound to submit implicitly to the decisions of the council of Trent. This unworthy artifice, calculated to surprise him into an approbation of articles, to which he had not the most idea of assenting, by proposing them to him at a time when his mind was engrossed and disquieted with the thoughts of that humiliating ceremony which he had to perform, filled the landgrave with indignation, and made him break out into all those violent expressions of rage to which his temper was prone. With some difficulty, the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice prevailed at length on the emperor’s ministers to drop the former article as unjust, and to explain the latter in such a manner that he could agree to it, without openly renouncing the protestant religion.

This obstacle being surmounted, the landgrave was impatient to finish a ceremony which, how mortifying soever, had been declared necessary towards has obtaining pardon. The emperor was seated on a magnificent throne, with all the ensigns of his dignity, surrounded by a numerous train of the princes of the empire, among whom was Henry of Brunswick, lately the landgrave’s prisoner, and now, by a sudden reverse of fortune, a spectator of his humiliation. The landgrave was introduced with great solemnity, and advancing towards the throne, fell upon his knees. His chancellor, who walked behind him, immediately read, by his master’s command, a paper which contained an humble confession of the crime whereof he had been guilty; an acknowledgment that he had merited on that account the most severe punishment; an absolute resignation of himself and his dominions to be disposed of at the emperor’s pleasure; a submissive petition for pardon, his hopes of which were founded entirely on the emperor’s clemency; and it concluded with promises of behaving, for the future, like a subject whose principles of loyalty and obedience would be confirmed, and would even derive new force from the sentiments of gratitude which must hereafter fill and animate his heart. While the chancellor was reading this abject declaration, the eyes of all the spectators were fixed on the unfortunate landgrave; few could behold a prince, so powerful as well as high-spirited, suing for mercy in the posture of a suppliant, without being touched with commiseration, and perceiving serious reflections arise in their minds upon the instability and emptiness of human grandeur.

The emperor viewed the whole transaction with a haughty unfeeling composure; and preserving a profound silence himself, made a sign to one of his secretaries to read his answer : the tenor of which was: That though he might have justly inflicted on him the grievous punishment which his crimes deserved, yet, prompted by his own generosity, moved by the solicitations of several princes in behalf of the landgrave, and influenced by his penitential acknowledgments, he would not deal with him according to the rigor of justice, and would subject him to no penalty that was not specified in the articles which he had already subscribed. The moment the secretary had finished, Charles turned away abruptly, without deigning to give the unhappy suppliant any sign of compassion or reconcilement. He did not even desire him to rise from his knees; which the landgrave having ventured to do unbidden, advanced towards the emperor with an intention to kiss his hand, flattering himself, that his guilt being now fully expiated, he might presume to take that liberty. But the elector of Brandenburg, perceiving that this familiarity would be offensive to the emperor, interposed, and desired the landgrave to go along with him and Maurice to the duke of Alva’s apartments in the castle.

He was received and entertained by that nobleman with the respect and courtesy due to such a guest. But after supper, while he was engaged in play, the duke took the elector and Maurice aside, and communicated to them the emperor’s orders, that the landgrave must remain a prisoner in that place under the custody of a Spanish guard.

As they had not hitherto entertained the most distant suspicion of the emperor’s sincerity or rectitude of intention, their surprise was excessive, and their indignation not inferior to it, on discovering how greatly they had been deceived themselves, and how infamously abused, in having been made the instruments of deceiving and ruining their friend. They had recourse to complaints, to arguments, and to entreaties, in order to save themselves from that disgrace, and to extricate him out of the wretched situation into which he had been betrayed by too great confidence in them. But the duke of Alva remained inflexible, and pleaded the necessity of executing the emperor’s commands. By this time it grew late, and the landgrave, who knew nothing of what had passed, nor dreaded the snare in which he was entangled, prepared for departing, when the fatal orders were intimated to him. He was struck dumb at first with astonishment, but after being silent a few moments, he broke out into all the violent expressions which horror, at injustice accompanied with fraud, naturally suggests.

He complained, expostulated, exclaimed; sometimes inveighing against the emperor's artifices as unworthy of a great and generous prince; sometimes censuring the credulity of his friends in trusting to Charles's insidious promises; sometimes charging them with meanness in stooping to lend their assistance towards the execution of such a perfidious and dishonorable scheme, and in the end he required them to remember their engagements to his children, and instantly to fulfill them. They, after giving way for a little to the torrent of his passion, solemnly asserted their own innocence and upright intention in the whole transaction, and encouraged him to hope, that as soon as they saw the emperor, they would obtain redress of an injury which affected their own honor, no less than it did his liberty. At the same time, in order to soothe his rage and impatience, Maurice remained with him during the night in the apartment where he was confined.

Next morning, the elector and Maurice applied jointly to the emperor, representing the infamy to which they would be exposed throughout Germany, if the landgrave were detained in custody; that they would not have advised, nor would he himself have consented to an interview, if they had suspected that the loss of his liberty was to be the consequence of his submission; that they were bound to procure his release, having plighted their faith to that effect, and engaged their own persons as sureties for his.

Charles listened to their earnest remonstrances with the utmost coolness. As he now stood no longer in need of their services, they had the mortification to find that their former obsequiousness was forgotten, and little regard paid to their intercession. He was ignorant, he told them, of their particular or private transactions with the landgrave, nor was his conduct to be regulated by any engagements into which they had thought fit to enter; though he knew well what he himself had promised, which was not that the landgrave should be exempt from all restraint, but that he should not be kept a prisoner during life.

Having said this with a peremptory and decisive tone, he put an end to the conference; and they seeing no probability, at that time, of making any impression upon the emperor, who seemed to have taken this resolution deliberately, and to be obstinately bent on adhering to it, were obliged to acquaint the unfortunate prisoner with the ill success of their endeavors in his behalf. The disappointment threw him into a new and more violent transport of rage, so that to prevent his proceeding to some desperate extremity, the elector and Maurice promised that they would not quit the emperor, until, by the frequency and fervor of their intercessions, they had extorted his consent to set him free.

They accordingly renewed their solicitations a few days afterwards, but found Charles more haughty and intractable than before, and were warned that if they touched again upon a subject so disagreeable, and with regard to which he had determined to hear nothing farther, he would instantly give orders to convey the prisoner into Spain. Afraid of hurting the landgrave by an officious or ill-timed zeal to serve him, they not only desisted, but left the court, and as they did not choose to meet the first sallies of the landgrave's rage upon his learning the cause of their departure, they informed him of it by a letter, wherein they exhorted him to fulfill all that he had promised to the emperor, as the most certain means of procuring a speedy release.

Whatever violent emotions their abandoning his cause in this manner occasioned, the landgrave's impatience to recover liberty made him follow their advice. He paid the sum which had been imposed on him, ordered his fortresses to be razed, and renounced all alliances which could give offence. This prompt compliance with the will of the conqueror produced no effect. He was still guarded with the same vigilant severity; and being carried about, together with the degraded elector of Saxony, wherever the emperor went, their disgrace and his triumph was each day renewed. The fortitude as well as equanimity, with which the elector bore these repeated insults, were not more remarkable than the landgrave's fretfulness and impatience. His active impetuous mind could ill brook restraint; and reflection upon the shameful artifices, by which he had been decoyed into that situation, as well as indignation at the injustice with which he was still detained in it, drove him often to the wildest excesses of passion.

The people of the different cities, to whom Charles thus wantonly exposed those illustrious prisoners as a public spectacle, were sensibly touched with such an insult offered to the Germanic body, and murmured loudly at this indecent treatment of two of its greatest princes. They had soon other causes of complaint, and such as affected them more nearly. Charles proceeded to add oppression to insult, and arrogating to himself all the rights of a conqueror, exercised them with the utmost rigor. He ordered his troops to seize the artillery and military stores belonging to such as had been members of the Smalkaldic league, and having collected upwards of five hundred pieces of cannon, a great number in that age, he sent part of them into the Low-Countries, part into Italy, and part into Spain, in order to spread by this means the fame of his success, and that they might serve as monuments of his having subdued a nation hitherto deemed invincible He then levied, by his sole authority, large sums of money, as well upon those who had served him with fidelity during the war, as upon such as had been in arms against him; upon the former, as their contingent towards a war, which, having been undertaken, as he pretended, for the common benefit, ought to be carried on at the common charge; upon the latter, as a fine by way of punishment for their rebellion.

By these exactions, he amassed above one million six hundred thousand crowns, a sum which appeared prodigious in the sixteenth century. But so general was the consternation which bad seized the Germans upon his rapid success, and such the dread of his victorious troops, that all implicitly obeyed his commands; though, at the same time, these extraordinary stretches of power greatly alarmed a people jealous of their privileges, and habituated, during several ages, to consider the Imperial authority as neither extensive nor formidable. This discontent and resentment, how industriously soever they concealed them, became universal; and the more these passions were restrained and kept down for the present, the more likely were they to burst out soon with additional violence.

KING FERDINAND AND THE BOHEMIAN REBELS

While Charles gave law to the Germans like a conquered people, Ferdinand treated his subjects in Bohemia with still greater rigor.

That kingdom possessed privileges and immunities as extensive as those of any nation in which the feudal institutions were established. The prerogative of their kings was extremely limited, and the crown itself elective. Ferdinand, when raised to the throne, had confirmed their liberties with every solemnity prescribed by their excessive solicitude for the security of a constitution of government to which they were extremely attached.

He soon began, however, to be weary of a jurisdiction so much circumscribed, and to despise a scepter which he could not transmit to his posterity; and notwithstanding all his former engagements, he attempted to overturn the constitution from its foundations; that, instead of an elective kingdom, he might render it hereditary.

But the Bohemians were too high-spirited tamely to relinquish privileges which they had long enjoyed. At the same time, many of them having embraced the doctrines of the reformers, the seeds of which John Huss and Jerome of Prague had planted in their country about the beginning of the preceding century, the desire of acquiring religious liberty mingled itself with their zeal for their civil rights; and these two kindred passions heightening, as usual, each other's force, precipitated them immediately into violent measures.

They had not only refused to serve their sovereign against the confederates of Smalkalde, but having entered into a close alliance with the elector of Saxony, they had bound themselves, by a solemn association, to defend their ancient constitution; and to persist, until they should obtain such additional privileges as they thought necessary towards perfecting the present model of their government, or rendering it more permanent.

They chose Caspar Phlug, a nobleman of distinction, to be their general; and raised an army of thirty thousand men to enforce their petitions. But either from the weakness of their leader, or from the dissensions in a great unwieldy body, which having united hastily, was not thoroughly compacted, or from some other unknown cause, the subsequent operations of the Bohemians bore no proportion to the zeal and ardor with which they took their first resolutions. They suffered themselves to be amused so long with negotiations and overtures of different kinds, that before they could enter Saxony, the battle of Muhlberg was fought, the elector deprived of his dignity and territories, the landgrave confined to close custody, and the league of Smalkalde entirely dissipated.

The same dread of the emperor’s power which had seized the rest of the Germans, reached them. As soon as their sovereign approached with a body of Imperial troops, they instantly dispersed, thinking of nothing but how to atone for their past guilt, and to acquire some hope of forgiveness by a prompt submission. But Ferdinand, who entered his dominions full of that implacable resentment which inflames monarchs whose authority has been despised, was not to be mollified by the late repentance and involuntary return of rebellious subjects to their duty. He even heard, unmoved, the entreaties and tears of the citizens of Prague, who appeared before him in the posture of suppliants, and implored for mercy.

The sentence which he pronounced against them was rigorous to extremity; he abolished many of their privileges, he abridged others, and new-modeled the constitution according to his pleasure. He condemned to death many of those who had been most active in forming the late association against him, and punished a still greater number with confiscation of their goods, or perpetual banishment. He obliged all his subjects, of every condition, to give up their arms to be deposited in forts where be planted garrisons; and after disarming his people, he loaded them with new and exorbitant taxes. Thus, by an ill-conducted and unsuccessful effort to extend their privileges, the Bohemians not only enlarged the sphere of the royal prerogative, when they intended to have circumscribed it, but they almost annihilated those liberties which they aimed at establishing on a broader and more secure foundation.

THE MURDER OF THE SON OF THE POPE

The emperor, having now humbled, and, as he imagined, subdued the independent and stubborn spirit of the Germans by the terror of arms and the rigor of punishment, held a diet at Augsburg, in order to compose finally the controversies with regard to religion, which had so long disturbed the empire.

He durst not, however, trust the determination of a matter so interesting to the free suffrage of the Germans, broken as their minds now were to subjection. He entered the city at the head of his Spanish troops, and assigned them quarters there. The rest of his soldiers he cantoned in the adjacent villages; so that the members of the diet, while they carried on their deliberations, were surrounded by the same army which had overcome their countrymen. Immediately after his public entry, Charles gave a proof of the violence with which he intended to proceed. He took possession by force of the cathedral, together with one of the principal churches; and his priests having, by various ceremonies, purified them from the pollution with which they supposed the unhallowed ministrations of the protestants to have defiled them, they re­established with great pomp the rites of the Romish worship.

The concourse of members to this diet was extraordinary; the importance of the affairs concerning which it was to deliberate, added to the tear of giving offence to the emperor by an absence which lay open to misconstruction, brought together almost all the princes, nobles, and representatives of cities who had a right to sit in that assembly. The emperor, in the speech with which he opened the meeting, called their attention immediately to that point, which seemed chiefly to merit it. Having mentioned the fatal effects of the religious dissensions which had arisen in Germany, and taken notice of his own unwearied endeavors to procure a general council, which alone could provide a remedy adequate to those evils, he exhorted them to recognize its authority, and to acquiesce in the decisions of an assembly to which they had originally appealed, as having the sole right of judgment in the case.

But the council, to which Charles wished them to refer all their controversies, had, by this time, undergone a violent change. The fear and jealousy, with which the emperor's first successes against the confederates of Smalkalde had inspired the pope, continued to increase. Not satisfied with attempting to retard the progress of the Imperial arms, by the sudden recall of his troops, Paul began to consider the emperor as an enemy, the weight of whose power he must soon feel, and against whom he could not be too hasty in taking precautions. He foresaw that the immediate effect of the emperor's acquiring absolute power in Germany, would be to render him entirely master of all the decisions of the council, if it should continue to meet in Trent. It was dangerous to allow a monarch, so ambitious, to get the command of this formidable engine, which he might employ at pleasure to limit or overturn the papal authority. As the only method of preventing this, he determined to remove the council to some city more immediately under his own jurisdiction, and at a greater distance from the terror of the emperor's arms, or the reach of his influence. An incident fortunately occurred, which gave this measure the appearance of being necessary.

One or two of the fathers of the council, together with some of their domestics, happening to die suddenly, the physicians, deceived by the symptoms, or suborned by the pope’s legates, pronounced the distemper to be infectious and pestilential. Some of the prelates, struck with a panic, retired; others were impatient to be gone; and after a short consultation, the council was translated to Bologna [March 11], a city subject to the pope. All the bishops in the Imperial interest warmly opposed this resolution, as taken without necessity, and founded on false or frivolous pretexts.

All the Spanish prelates, and most of the Neapolitan, by the emperor's express command, remained at Trent; the rest, to the number of thirty-four, accompanying the legates to Bologna. Thus a schism commenced in that very assembly, which had been called to heal the divisions of Christendom; the fathers of Bologna inveighed against those who stayed at Trent, as contumacious and regardless of the pope’s authority; while the other accused them of being so far intimidated by the fears of imaginary danger, as to remove to a place where their consultations could prove of no service towards reestablishing peace and order in Germany.

The emperor, at the same time, employed all his interest to procure the return of the council to Trent. But Paul, who highly applauded his own sagacity in having taken a step which put it out of Charles’s power to acquire the direction of that assembly, paid no regard to a request, the object of which was so extremely obvious. The summer was consumed in fruitless negotiations with respect to this point, the importunity of the one and the obstinacy of the other daily increasing. At last, an event happened which widened the breach irreparably, and rendered the pope utterly averse from listening to any proposal that came from the emperor. Charles, as has been already observed, had so violently exasperated Peter Lewis Farnese, the pope’s son, by refusing to grant him the investiture of Parma and Placentia, that he had watched ever since that time with all the vigilance of resentment for an opportunity of revenging that injury. He had endeavored to precipitate the pope into open hostilities against the emperor, and had earnestly solicited the king of France to invade Italy. His hatred and resentment extended to all those whom he knew that the emperor favored, he did every ill office in his power to Gonzaga, governor of Milan, and had encouraged Fiesco in his attempt upon the life of Andrew Doria, because both Gonzaga and Doria possessed a great degree of the emperor’s esteem and confidence. His malevolence and secret intrigues were not unknown to the emperor, who could not be more desirous to take vengeance on him, than Gonzaga and Doria were to be employed as his instruments in inflicting it.

Farnese, by the profligacy of his life, and by enormities of every kind, equal to those committed by the worst tyrants who have disgraced human nature, had rendered himself so odious, that it was thought any violence whatever might be lawfully attempted against him. Gonzaga and Doria soon found among his own subjects, persons who were eager, and even deemed it meritorious, to lend their hands in such a service. As Farnese, animated with the jealousy which usually possesses petty sovereigns, had employed all the cruelty and fraud, whereby they endeavor to supply their defect of power, in order to humble and extirpate the nobility subject to his government, five noblemen of the greatest distinction in Placentia combined to avenge the injuries which they themselves had suffered, as well as those which he had offered to their order.

They formed their plan in conjunction with Gonzaga; but it remains uncertain whether he originally suggested the scheme to them, or only approved of what they proposed, and co-operated in carrying it on. They concerted all the previous steps with such foresight, conducted their intrigues with such secrecy, and displayed such courage in the execution of their design, that it may be ranked among the most audacious deeds of that nature mentioned in history.

One body of the conspirators surprised, at midday [Sept. 101], the gates of the citadel of Placentia where Farnese resided, overpowered his guards, and murdered him. Another party of them made themselves masters of the town, and called upon their fellow-citizens to take arms, in order to recover their liberty. The multitude ran towards the citadel, from which three great guns, a signal concerted with Gonzaga, had been fired; and before they could guess the cause or the authors of the tumult, they saw the lifeless body of the tyrant hanging by the heels from one of the windows of the citadel.

But so universally detestable had he become, that not one expressed any sentiment of concern at such a sad reverse of fortune, or discovered the least indignation at this ignominious treatment of a sovereign prince. The exultation at the success of the conspiracy was general, and all applauded the actors in it as the deliverers of their country. The body was tumbled into the ditch that surrounded the citadel, and exposed to the insults of the rabble; the rest of the citizens returned to their usual occupations, as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

Before next morning, a body of troops arriving from the frontiers of the Milanese, where they had been posted in expectation of the event, took possession of the city in the emperor's name, and reinstated the inhabitants in the possession of their ancient privileges. Parma, which the Imperialists attempted likewise to surprise, was saved by the vigilance and fidelity of the officers whom Farnese had entrusted with the command of the garrison.

The death of a son whom, notwithstanding his infamous vices, Paul loved with an excess of parental tenderness, overwhelmed him with the deepest affliction; and the loss of a city of such consequence as Placentia, greatly embittered his sorrow. He accused Gonzaga, in open consistory, of having committed a cruel murder, in order to prepare the way for an unjust usurpation, and immediately demanded of the emperor satisfaction for both; for the former, by the punishment of Gonzaga; for the latter, by the restitution of Placentia to his grandson, Octavia, its rightful owner. But Charles, who, rather than quit a prize of such value, was willing not only to expose himself to the imputation of being accessary to the crime which had given an opportunity of seizing it, but to bear the infamy of defrauding his own son-in-law of the inheritance which belonged to him, eluded all his solicitations, and determined to keep possession of the city, together with its territories.

This resolution, flowing from an ambition so rapacious, as to be restrained by no consideration either of decency or justice, transported the pope so far beyond his usual moderation and prudence, that he was eager to take arms against the emperor, in order to be avenged on the murderers of his son, and to recover the inheritance wrested from his family. Conscious, however, of his own inability to contend with such an enemy, he warmly solicited the French king and the republic of Venice to join in an offensive league against Charles. But Henry was intent at that time on other objects. His ancient allies, the Scots, having been defeated by the English in one of the greatest battles ever fought between these two rival nations, be was about to send a numerous body of veteran troops into that country, as well to preserve it from being conquered, as to gain the acquisition of a new kingdom to the French monarchy, by marrying his son the dauphin to the young queen of Scotland. An undertaking accompanied with such manifest advantages, the success of which appeared to be so certain, was not to be relinquished for the remote prospect of benefit from an alliance depending upon the precarious life of a pope of fourscore, who had nothing at heart but the gratification of his own private resentment. Instead, therefore, of rushing headlong into the alliance proposed, Henry amused the pope with such general professions and promises, as might keep him from any thoughts of endeavoring to accommodate his differences with the emperor, but at the same time he avoided any such engagement as might occasion an immediate rupture with Charles, or precipitate him into a war for which he was not prepared. The Venetians, though much alarmed at seeing Placentia in the hands of the Imperialists, imitated the wary conduct of the French king, as it nearly resembled the spirit which usually regulated their own conduct.

But though the pope found that it was not in his power to kindle immediately the flames of war, he did not forget the injuries which he was obliged for the present to endure; resentment settled deeper in his mind, and became more rancorous in proportion as he felt the difficulty of gratifying it. It was while these sentiments of enmity were in full force, and the desire of vengeance at its height, that the diet of Augsburg, by the emperor's command, petitioned the pope, in the name of the whole Germanic body, to enjoin the prelates who had retired to Bologna to return again to Trent, and to renew their deliberations in that place

TRENT IN THE WAITING ROOM OF THE STATION OF HISTORY

Charles had been at great pains in bringing the members to join in this request. Having observed a considerable variety of sentiments among the protestants with respect to the submission which he had required to the decrees of the council, some of them being altogether intractable, while others were ready to acknowledge its right of jurisdiction upon certain conditions, he employed all his address in order to gain or to divide them.

He threatened and overawed the elector Palatine, a weak prince, and afraid that the emperor might inflict on him the punishment to which lie had made himself liable by the assistance that he had given to the confederates of Smalkalde. The hope of procuring liberty for the landgrave, together with the formal confirmation of his own electoral dignity, overcame Maurice’s scruples, or prevented him from opposing what he knew would be agreeable to the emperor. The elector of Brandenburg, less influenced by religious zeal than any prince of that age, was easily induced to imitate their example, in assenting to all that the emperor required. The deputies of the cities remained still to be brought over.

They were more tenacious of their principles, and though everything that could operate either on their hopes or fears was tried, the utmost that they would promise was, to acknowledge the jurisdiction of the council, if effectual provision were made for securing to the divines of all parties free access to that assembly, with entire liberty of debate; and if all points in controversy were decided according to scripture, and the usage of the primitive church. But when the memorial containing this declaration was presented to the emperor, he ventured to put in practice a very extraordinary artifice. Without reading, the paper, or taking any notice of the conditions on which they had insisted, he seemed to take it for granted that they had complied with his demand, and gave thanks to the deputies for their full and unreserved submission to the decrees of the council [Oct. 9]. The deputies, though astonished at what they had heard, did not attempt to set him right, both parties being better pleased that the matter should remain under this state of ambiguity, than to push for an explanation, which must have occasioned a dispute, and would have led, perhaps, to a rupture.

Having obtained this seeming submission from the members of the diet to the authority of the council, Charles employed that as an argument to enforce their petition for its return to Trent. But the pope, from the satisfaction which he felt in mortifying the emperor, as well as from his own aversion to what was demanded, resolved, without hesitation, that his petition should not be granted; though, in order to avoid the imputation of being influenced wholly by resentment, he had the address to throw it upon the fathers at Bologna, to put a direct negative upon the request.

With this view he referred to their consideration the petition of the diet [Dec. 20], and they, ready to confirm by their assent whatever the legates were pleased to dictate, declared that the council could not, consistently with its dignity, return to Trent, unless the prelates who, by remaining there, had discovered a schismatic spirit, would first repair to Bologna, and join their brethren; and that, even after their junction, the council could not renew its consultations with any prospect of benefit to the church, if the Germans did not prove their intention of obeying its future decrees to be sincere, by yielding immediate obedience to those which it bad already passed.

This answer was communicated to the emperor by the pope, who at the same time exhorted him to comply with demands which appeared to be so reasonable. But Charles was better acquainted with the duplicity of the pope's character than to be deceived by such a gross artifice, he knew that the prelates of Bologna durst utter no sentiment but what Paul inspired; and, therefore, overlooking them as mere tools in the band of another, be considered their reply as a full discovery of the pope's intentions. As he could no longer hope to acquire such an ascendant in the council as to render it subservient to his own plan, he saw it to be necessary that Paul should not have it in his power to turn against him the authority of so venerable an assembly.

In order to prevent this, he sent two Spanish lawyers to Bologna [Jan. 16, 1548], who, in the presence of the legates, protested. That the translation of the council to that place had been unnecessary, and founded on false or frivolous pretexts; that while it continued to meet there, it ought to be deemed an unlawful and schismatical conventicle; that all its decisions ought of course to be held as null and invalid; and that since the pope, together with the corrupt ecclesiastics who depended on him, had abandoned the care of the church, the emperor, as its protector, would employ all the power which God had committed to him, in order to preserve it from those calamities with which it was threatened. A few days after [Jan. 23], the Imperial ambassador at Rome demanded an audience of the pope, and in presence of all the cardinals, as well as foreign ministers, protested against the proceedings of the prelates at Bologna, in terms equally harsh and disrespectful

It was not long before Charles proceeded to carry these threats, which greatly alarmed both the pope and council at Bologna, into execution. He let the diet know the ill success of his endeavors to procure a favorable answer to their petition, and that the pope, equally regardless of their entreaties, and of his services to the church, had refused to gratify them by allowing the council to meet again at Trent; that, though all hope of holding this assembly in a place, where they might look for freedom of debate and judgment, was not to be given up, the prospect of it was, at present, distant and uncertain; that in the meantime, Germany was torn in pieces by religious dissensions, the purity of the faith corrupted, and the minds of the people disquieted with a multiplicity of new opinions and controversies formerly unknown among Christians; that, moved by the duty which he owed to them as their sovereign, and to the church as its protector, he had employed some divines of known abilities and learning, to prepare a system of doctrine, to which all should conform, until a council, such as they wished for, could be convocated. This system was compiled by Pflug, Helding, and Agricola, of whom the two former were dignitaries in the Romish church, but remarkable for their pacific and healing spirit; the last was a protestant divine, suspected, not without reason, of having been gained by bribes and promises, to betray or mislead his party on this occasion. The articles presented to the diet of Ratisbon in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-one, in order to reconcile the contending parties, served as a model for the present work.

THE INTERIM OF THE EMPEROR

But as the emperor’s situation was much changed since that time, and he found it no longer necessary to manage the protestants with the same delicacy as at that juncture, the concessions in their favor were not now so numerous, nor did they extend to points of so much consequence. The treatise contained a complete system of theology, conformable in almost every article to the tenets of the Romish church, though expressed, for the most part, in the softest words, or in scriptural phrases, or in terms of studied ambiguity. Every doctrine, however, peculiar to popery, was retained, and the observation of all the rites, which the protestants condemned as inventions of men introduced into the worship of God, was enjoined. With regard to two points only, some relaxation in the rigor of opinion as well as some latitude in the practice were admitted. Such ecclesiastics as had married, and would not put away their wives, were allowed, nevertheless, to perform all the functions of their sacred office; and those provinces which had been accustomed to partake of the cup as well as of the bread in the sacrament of the Lord's supper, were still indulged in the privilege of receiving both. Even these were declared to be concessions for the sake of peace, and granted only for a season, in compliance with the weakness or prejudices of their countrymen.

This system of doctrine, known afterwards by the name of the Interim, because it contained temporary regulations, which were to continue no longer in force than until a free general council could be held, the emperor presented to the diet [May 15], with a pompous declaration of his sincere intention to re-establish tranquility and order in the church, as well as of his hopes that their adopting these regulations would contribute greatly to bring about that desirable event. It was read in presence of the diet, according to form. As soon as it was finished, the archbishop of Mentz (Mayence), president of the electoral college, rose up hastily; and having thanked the emperor for his unwearied and pious endeavors in order to restore peace to the church, he, in the name of the diet, signified their approbation of the system of doctrine which had been read, together with their resolution of conforming to it in every particular.

The whole assembly was amazed at a declaration so unprecedented and unconstitutional, as well as at the elector's presumption in pretending to deliver the sense of the diet, upon a point which had not hitherto been the subject of consultation or debate. But not one member had the courage to contradict what the elector had said; some being overawed by fear, others remaining silent through complaisance. The emperor held the archbishop's declaration to be a full constitutional ratification of the Interim, and prepared to enforce the observance of it, as a decree of the empire.

During this diet, the wife and children of the landgrave, warmly seconded by Maurice of Saxony, endeavoured to interest the members in behalf of that unhappy prince, who still languished in confinement. But Charles, who did not choose to be brought under the necessity of rejecting any request that came from such a respectable body, in order to prevent their representations, laid before the diet an account of his transactions with the landgrave, together with the motives which had at first induced him to detain that prince in custody, and which rendered it prudent, as he alleged, to keep him still under restraint. It was no easy matter to give any good reason, for an action, incapable of being justified. But he thought the most frivolous pretexts might be produced in an assembly the members of which were willing to be deceived, arid afraid of nothing so much as of discovering that they saw his conduct in its true colors. His account of his own conduct was accordingly admitted to be fully satisfactory, and after some feeble entreaties that he would extend his clemency to his unfortunate prisoner, the landgrave's concerns were no more mentioned.

In order to counterbalance the unfavorable impression which this inflexible rigor might make, Charles, as a proof that his gratitude was no less permanent and unchangeable than his resentment, invested Maurice in the electoral dignity, with all the legal formalities. The ceremony was performed, with extraordinary pomp, in an open court, so near the apartment in which the degraded elector was kept a prisoner, that he could view it from his windows. Even this insult did not ruffle his usual tranquility; and turning his eyes that way, he beheld a prosperous rival receiving those ensigns of dignity of which he had been stripped, without uttering one sentiment unbecoming the fortitude that he had preserved amidst all his calamities.

Immediately after the dissolution of the diet, the emperor ordered the Interim to be published in the German as well as Latin language. It met with the usual reception of conciliating schemes, when proposed to men heated with disputation; both parties declaimed against it with equal violence. The protestants condemned it as a system containing the grossest errors of popery, disguised with so little art, that it could impose only on the most ignorant, or on those who, by willfully shutting their eyes, favored the deception. The papists inveighed against it, as a work in which some doctrines of the church were impiously given up, others meanly concealed, and all of them delivered in terms calculated rather to deceive the unwary, than to instruct the ignorant, or to reclaim such as were enemies to the truth. While the Lutheran divines fiercely attacked it on the one hand, the general of the Dominicans with no less vehemence impugned it on the other.

But at Rome, as soon as the contents of the Interim came to be known, the indignation of the courtiers and ecclesiastics rose to the greatest height. They exclaimed against the emperor’s profane encroachment on the sacerdotal function, in presuming, with the concurrence of an assembly of laymen, to define articles of faith and to regulate modes of worship. They compared this rash deed to that of Uzziah, who, with an unhallowed hand, had touched the ark of God; or to the bold attempts of those emperors, who had rendered their memory detestable, by endeavoring to model the Christian church according to their pleasure. They even affected to find out a resemblance between the emperor's conduct and that of Henry VIII, and expressed their fear of his imitating the example of that apostate, by usurping the title as well as jurisdiction belonging to the head of the church. All therefore, contended with one voice, that as the foundations of ecclesiastical authority were now shaken, and the whole fabric ready to be overturned by a new enemy, some powerful method of defence should be provided, and a vigorous resistance must be made, in the beginning, before he grew too formidable to be opposed.

The pope, whose judgment was improved by longer experience in great transactions, as well as by a more extensive observation of human affairs, viewed the matter with more acute discernment, and derived comfort from the very circumstance which filled them with apprehension. He was astonished that a prince of such superior sagacity as the emperor, should be so intoxicated with a single victory, as to imagine that he might give law to mankind, and decide even in those matters, with regard to which they are most impatient of dominion. He saw that by joining any one of the contending parties in Germany, Charles might have had it in his power to have oppressed the other, but that the presumption of success had now inspired him with the vain thought of his being able to domineer over both. He foretold that a system which all attacked, and none defended, could not be of long duration ; and that, for this reason, there was no need of his interposing in order to hasten its fall ; for as soon as the powerful hand which now upheld it was withdrawn, it would sink of its own accord, and be forgotten, forever.

The emperor, fond of his own plan, adhered to his resolution of carrying it into full execution. But though the elector Palatine, the elector of Brandenburg, and Maurice, influenced by the same considerations as formerly, seemed ready to yield implicit obedience to whatever he should enjoin, he met not everywhere with a like obsequious submission. John marquis of Brandenburg Anspach, although he had taken part with great zeal in the war against the confederates of Smalkalde, refused to renounce doctrines which he held to be sacred; and reminding the emperor of the repeated promises which he had given his protestant allies, of allowing them the free exercise of their religion, he claimed, in consequence of these, to be exempted from receiving the Interim. Some other princes, also, ventured to mention the same scruples, and to plead the same indulgence. But on this, as on other trying occasions, the firmness of the elector of Saxony was most distinguished, and merited the highest praise.

Charles, well knowing the authority of his example with all the protestant party, labored with the utmost earnestness, to gain his approbation of the Interim, and by employing sometimes promises of setting him at liberty, sometimes threats of treating him with greater harshness, attempted alternately to work upon his hopes and his fears. But he was alike regardless of both. After having declared his fixed belief in the doctrines of the reformation, “I cannot now”, said he, “in my old age, abandon the principles for which I early contended; nor, in order to procure freedom during a few declining years, will I betray that good cause, on account of which I have suffered so much, and am still willing to suffer. Better for me to enjoy, in this solitude, the esteem of virtuous men, together with the approbation of my own conscience, than to return into the world, with the imputation and guilt of apostasy, to disgrace and embitter the remainder of my days”. By this magnanimous resolution, he set his countrymen a pattern of conduct so very different from that which the emperor wished him to have exhibited to them, that it drew upon him fresh marks of his displeasure. The rigor of his confinement was increased; the number of his servants abridged; the Lutheran clergymen, who had hitherto been permitted to attend him, were dismissed; and even the books of devotion, which had been his chief consolation during a tedious imprisonment, were taken from him. The landgrave of Hesse, his companion in misfortune, did not maintain the same constancy. His patience and fortitude were both so much exhausted by the length of his confinement, that, willing to purchase freedom at any price, he wrote to the emperor, offering not only to approve of the Interim, but to yield an unreserved submission to his will in every other particular. But Charles who knew that whatever course the landgrave might hold, neither his example nor his authority would prevail on his children or subjects to receive the Interim, paid no regard to his offers. He was kept confined as strictly as ever; and while he suffered the cruel mortification of having his conduct set in contrast to that of the elector, he derived not the smallest benefit from the mean step which exposed him to such deserved censure.

But it was in the Imperial cities that Charles met with the most violent opposition to the Interim. These small commonwealths, the citizens of which were accustomed to liberty and independence, had embraced the doctrines of the reformation when they were first published, with remarkable eagerness; the bold spirit of innovation being peculiarly suited to the genius of free government. Among them, the protestant teachers had made the greatest number of proselytes. The most eminent divines of the party were settled in them as pastors. By having the direction of the schools and other seminaries of learning, they bad trained up disciples, who were as well instructed in the articles of their faith, as they were zealous to defend them. Such persons were not to be guided by example, or swayed by authority but having been taught to employ their own understanding in examining and deciding with respect to the points in controversy, they thought that they were both qualified and entitled to judge for themselves. As soon as the contents of the Interim were known. they, with one voice, joined in refusing to admit it. Augsburg, Ulm, Strasburg, Constance, Bremen, Magdeburg, together with many other towns of less note, presented remonstrances to the emperor, setting forth the irregular and unconstitutional manner in which the Interim had been enacted, and beseeching him not to offer such violence to their consciences, as to require their assent to a form of doctrine and worship, which appeared to them repugnant to the express precepts of the divine law. But Charles having prevailed on so many princes of the empire to approve of his new model, was not much moved by the representations of those cities, which, how formidable soever they might have proved, if they could have been formed into one body, lay so remote from each other, that it was easy to oppress them separately, before it was possible for them to unite.

In order to accomplish this, the emperor saw it to be requisite that his measures should be vigorous, and executed with such rapidity as to allow no time for concerting any common plan of opposition. Having laid down this maxim as the rule of his proceedings his first attempt was upon the city of Augsburg, which, though overawed by the presence of the Spanish troops, he knew to be as much dissatisfied with the Interim as any in the empire. He ordered one body of these troops to seize the gates; he posted the rest in different quarters of the city; and assembling all the burgesses in the town-hall [Aug. 3], he, by his sole absolute authority, published a decree abolishing their present form of government, dissolving all their corporations and fraternities, and nominating a small number of persons, in whom he vested for the future all the powers of government. Each of the persons, thus chosen, took an oath to observe the Interim. An act of power so unprecedented as well as arbitrary, which excluded the body of the inhabitants from any share in the government of their own community, and subjected them to men who had no other merit than their servile devotion to the emperor's will, gave general disgust; but as they durst not venture upon resistance, they were obliged to submit in silence. From Augsburg, in which he left a garrison, he proceeded to Ulm, and new-modeled its government with the same violent hand; he seized such of their pastors as refused to subscribe the Interim, committed them to prison, and at his departure carried them along with him in chains. By this severity he not only secured the reception of the Interim, in two of the most powerful cities, but gave warning to the rest what such as continued refectory had to expect. The effect of the example was as great as he could have wished; and many towns, in order to save themselves from the like treatment, found it necessary to comply with what he enjoined. This obedience, extorted by the rigor of authority, produced no change in the sentiments of the Germans, and extended no farther than to make them conform so far to what he required, as was barely sufficient to screen them from punishment. The protestant preachers accompanied those religious rites, the observation of which the Interim prescribed, with such an explication of their tendency, as served rather to confirm than to remove the scruples of their hearers with regard to them. The people, many of whom had grown up to mature years since the establishment of the reformed religion, and never known any other form of public worship, beheld the pompous pageantry of the popish service with contempt or horror; and in most places the Romish ecclesiastics who returned to take possession of their churches, could hardly be protected from insult, or their ministrations from interruption.

Thus, notwithstanding the apparent compliance of so many cities, the inhabitants being accustomed to freedom, submitted with reluctance to the power which now oppressed them. Their understanding as well as inclination revolted against the doctrines and ceremonies imposed on them; and though, for the present, they concealed their disgust and resentment, it was evident that these passions could not always be kept under restraint, but would break out at last in effects proportional to their violence.

Charles, however, highly pleased with having bent the stubborn spirit of the Germans to such general submission, departed for the Low-Countries, fully determined to compel the cities, which still stood out, to receive the Interim. He carried his two prisoners, the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse, along with him, either because he durst not leave them behind him in Germany, or because he wished to give his countrymen the Flemings this illustrious proof of the success of his arms, and the extent of his power. Before Charles arrived at Brussels [Sept. 17], he was informed that the pope’s legates at Bologna had dismissed the council by an indefinite prorogation, and that the prelates assembled there had returned to their respective countries. Necessity had driven the pope into this measure. By the secession of those who had voted against the translation, together with the departure of others, who grew weary of continuing in a place where they were not suffered to proceed to business, so few and such inconsiderable members remained, that the pompous appellation of a General Council could not, with decency, be bestowed any longer upon them. Paul had no choice but to dissolve an assembly which was become the object of contempt, and exhibited to all Christendom a most glaring proof of the impotence of the Romish see. But unavoidable as the measure was, it lay open to be unfavorably interpreted, and had the appearance of withdrawing the remedy, at the very time when those for whose recovery it was provided, were prevailed on to acknowledge its virtue, and to make trial of its efficacy. Charles did not fail to put this construction on the conduct of the pope; and by an artful comparison of his own efforts to suppress heresy, with Paul’s scandalous inattention to a point so essential, he endeavored to render the pontiff odious to all zealous catholics. At the same time he commanded the prelates of his faction to remain at Trent, that the council might still appear to have a being, and might be ready, whenever it was thought expedient, to resume its deliberations for the good of the church.

The motive of Charles’s journey to the Low-Countries, besides gratifying his favorite passion of travelling from one part of his dominions to another, was to receive Philip his only son, who was now in the twenty-first year of his age, and whom he had called thither, not only that he might be recognized by the states of the Netherlands as heir-apparent, but in order to facilitate the execution of a vast scheme, the object of which, and the reception it met with, shall be hereafter explained. Philip having left the government of Spain to Maximilian, Ferdinand’s eldest son, to whom the emperor had given the princess Mary his daughter in marriage, embarked for Italy, attended by a numerous retinue of Spanish nobles. The squadron which escorted him, was commanded by Andrew Doria, who, notwithstanding his advanced age, insisted on the honor of performing, in person, the same duty to the son, which he had often discharged towards the father. He landed safely at Genoa [Nov. 25]; from thence he went to Milan, and proceeding through Germany, arrived at the Imperial court in Brussels [April, 1549]. The states of Brabant, in the first place, and those of the other provinces in their order, acknowledged his right of succession in common form, and he took the customary oath to preserve all their privileges inviolate. In all the towns of the Low-Countries through which Philip passed, he was received with extraordinary pomp. Nothing that could either express the respect of the people, or contribute to his amusement, was neglected; pageants, tournaments, and public spectacles of every kind, were exhibited with that expensive magnificence which commercial nations are fond of displaying, when, on any occasion, they depart from their usual maxims of frugality. But amidst these scenes of festivity and pleasure, Philip’s natural severity of temper was discernible. Youth itself could not render him agreeable, nor his being a candidate for power form him to courtesy. He maintained a haughty reserve in his behavior, and discovered such manifest partiality towards his Spanish attendants, together with such an avowed preference to the manners of their country, as highly disgusted the Flemings, and gave rise to that antipathy, which afterwards occasioned a revolution so fatal to him in that part of his dominions.

Charles was long detained in the Netherlands by a violent attack of the gout, which returned upon him so frequently, and with such increasing violence, that it had broken, to a great degree, the vigour of his constitution. He nevertheless did not slacken his endeavors to enforce the Interim. The inhabitants of Strasburg, after a long struggle, found it necessary to yield obedience; those of Constance, who had taken arms in their own defence, were compelled by force, not only to conform to the Interim, but to renounce their privileges as a free city, to do homage to Ferdinand as archduke of Austria, and as his vassals, to admit an Austrian governor and garrison. Magdeburg, Bremen, Hamburg, and Lübeck, were the only Imperial cities of note that still continued refractory.

BOOK X.

NEW LEAGUE AGAINST CHARLES