Corvinus diverted Maximilian's attention to those ancestral dominions
from which his father had been so ignominiously expelled, and justified
him in the hope of restoring the old Hapsburg influence over Hungary.
Frederick's claim to the latter kingdom was based on the agreement of
1463, ratified by Matthias and the leading Magyar nobles, by which
Frederick or his son was to succeed, if Matthias should die childless.
Though this condition was now fulfilled, the Hungarians were by no
means disposed to act upon it; and Uladislas, King of Bohemia, was a
dangerous rival to the Hapsburgs, both by reason of the nearness of his
dominions and the strength of his hereditary claims.[31] Several
causes {29} combined to handicap Maximilian. His father, with his
usual jealousy, refused to waive his rights in favour of Maximilian,
who alone was capable of carrying the enterprise to a successful issue.
Want of money, his curse throughout life, told heavily against him; nor
was any assistance to be obtained from the German Princes without
concessions on the Emperor's part, and these Frederick stubbornly
declined to make. Finally, Austria claimed first attention, and till
it had been recovered, Uladislas was left unassailed in Hungary.
Whatever might be the feeling in the latter country, there was no doubt
as to the popularity of Maximilian's cause in Austria. Great
enthusiasm prevailed, and his advance was as rapid and bloodless as it
was triumphant. Vienna University declared unanimously in his favour,
and, by the end of June, 12,000 men had enlisted in his service. In
July Maximilian entered Graz, and on August 19, made his triumphal
entry into Vienna, which had been hastily abandoned by the Hungarian
forces.[32] The oath of allegiance was taken to Maximilian only: the
citizens remembered Frederick too well to entrust themselves a second
time to his mismanagement. Meanwhile Uladislas had been proclaimed
King of Hungary on July 15, 1490,[33] and in September was crowned at
Stuhlweissenburg. Maximilian on this occasion displayed great
activity, and, aided by a liberal grant of money from the Tyrolese
Estates, invaded Hungary at the head of an army of about 17,000 men.
Crossing the Raab late in October, he met with but slight opposition;
Uladislas was unprepared, and by nature averse to energetic measures;
and the invader was joined by a number {30} of Hungarian magnates. But
this phenomenal success was fatal to the invaders; and by the time that
it reached Stuhlweissenburg, the army was virtually out of hand. In
spite of a firm resistance, the city was cannonaded (Maximilian
personally directing the artillery) and taken by storm; but a
disgraceful scene of plunder and slaughter ensued. Maximilian and his
captains were quite unable to restrain the soldiers, and on the next
day an open mutiny broke out. Their refusal to advance upon Buda, and
the consequent delay, proved fatal to the whole enterprise. When
summoned to surrender, the capital indignantly declined, and Uladislas
found time to bring up his Bohemians and to threaten Vienna. Frederick
III., true to his ultra-Fabian motto--"Mit der Zeit lohnt oder rächt
sich alles"[34]--sent no assistance, and Maximilian, seeing his base
endangered, and hampered by want of money and discipline, found it
necessary to withdraw westwards. His overtures to Poland met with no
response, and he was quite unable to continue the struggle alone. By
July 1491 Stuhlweissenburg fell into the hands of Uladislas, and all
Maximilian's recent conquests were lost. The urgent appeals of
Reichenburg to Maximilian for reinforcements and of Maximilian to his
father for money were all in vain. His position was absolutely
desperate from sheer want of funds,[35] while the turn which Breton
affairs were taking seemed to render peace necessary, at whatever
price. Frederick, who {31} throughout the war had thwarted his aims
and damped his ardour,[36] now offered his mediation, and negotiations
were opened in August. By the Treaty of Pressburg (November 7, 1491),
Uladislas was formally recognized as King of Hungary, but, failing his
lawful issue, the crown was to fall to Maximilian or his son. This
promise was to be solemnly ratified by the Hungarian Estates in
presence of the Imperial envoys. Moreover, Uladislas renounced all
claims upon Austria, and undertook to refund Maximilian for the
expenses of the war.[37]
The old Emperor's attitude during the late war had not improved his
relations with Maximilian; and the friction was rendered the more
acute, when Frederick refused to see his son, and shut off various
sources of income from him, thus seriously injuring his chances of
success against France. Moreover, Frederick's hostility to the
Bavarian Dukes formed a marked contrast to Maximilian's conciliatory
position, which was mainly due to the influence of his sister
Cunigunda, wife of Albert IV.[38] Duke Albert's high-handed conduct in
imposing a general tax on his subjects, in spite of the refusal of the
Estates, had led to the formation of a League of discontented nobles,
known as the Löwlerbund, which united with the Swabian League and was
openly encouraged by the Emperor. By the end of 1491 the movement had
ended in hostilities, and on January 23, 1492, Frederick {32} III.
published the ban of the Empire against Duke Albert of Bavaria. The
Swabian League began to arm. The French were ready to invade the
Empire, if the League should attack Bavaria. An outbreak which would
involve the whole of South-West Germany seemed wellnigh inevitable, and
the entire credit of the preservation of peace, must rest with
Maximilian. At the last moment, when the armies were actually encamped
and facing each other in the field, his influence secured an adjustment
of the quarrel. He had appeased his father's anger by freeing the
Austrian dominions from the oath which they had taken to himself, and
by referring them to the Emperor as their ruler. Frederick was now
satisfied with the restoration of Regensburg to the Empire[39] and the
cancelling of Bavarian claims on Tyrol; while a full pardon was granted
by Albert to all members of the Löwlerbund. (May 1492.)
Maximilian, notwithstanding this triumph of his diplomacy, met with the
utmost difficulty in raising money for his operations against the
French; while a new enemy had arisen in the young Charles of Egmont,
who had recently recovered the Duchy of Gueldres, and who was destined
to be a thorn in Maximilian's side for the rest of the reign. Though
his position in West Germany was strengthened by a League with the
"Lower Union,"[40] the sole result of his efforts at the Diet of
Coblenz was a prospective grant of 94,000 gulden, of which only 16,000
actually came in. His campaign against the French has already been
sketched (p. 25). Scarcely were his {33} hands freed by the Peace of
Senlis, when an incursion of the Turks into Styria (August 1493) made a
fresh demand upon his attention. Then, as usual, the necessary aid
arrived too late, and the marauders returned home almost unchallenged.
In the midst of this danger Frederick III., whose health had been
failing for some time, and whose foot it had been found necessary to
amputate,[41] died at Linz, in the seventy-eighth year of his age
(August 19, 1493).
The old Emperor had lived to see his dreams of Hapsburg revival and
consolidation to a great extent realized; but his irritable nature had
led him to thwart the family aspirations on Hungary. In his dread lest
the acquisition of a throne should make his son more powerful than
himself, he afforded him no assistance, nay rather, threw every
hindrance in his way. Frederick's death was an undoubted gain to
Maximilian, for it left him Emperor elect and unquestioned ruler of the
Hapsburg dominions. Family divisions were no longer possible, since no
relative capable of resistance survived.[42]
But while his position was rendered more definite and imposing, there
seems to have been at this period a general cooling of Maximilian's
popularity, at least among the ruling classes. A powerful party in the
Empire, led by Berthold of Mainz, now claimed the fulfilment of those
promises of reform which he had made at the Diet of 1489,[43] and his
reluctance to devote {34} his time to its discussion produced a
distinctly bad impression among the Princes. Moreover, the part which
he now began to play in Italian politics, exposing, as it did, the
Imperial person to indignity and failure, roused all the old prejudices
of the caste of nobles, and acted as a damper to their enthusiasm.
Gladly as we should avoid threading the intricate maze of Italian
politics--a task which is after all more apposite to a general
history--some treatment of Maximilian's attitude during these momentous
years is inevitable, even in so slight a sketch as the present. A
general idea of Maximilian's ambitions in Italy will best be conveyed
by his own words. "Italy has for centuries experienced what it means
for the people, if no Emperor is there to restrain unruly passions, and
hence the friends of the people have ever looked with favour on the
Imperial power, and longed for the return of the Emperor."[44]
[Illustration: BIANCA MARIA SFORZA Painting by A. de Predis]
The fortunes of Milan were at this moment in the hands of Ludovico il
Moro, who, at first merely Regent for Gian Galeazzo, had retained the
whole powers of government in his own hands, even after his nephew had
come of age. The young Duke's wife, Isabella of Naples, deeply
resented her husband's sudordinate position, and Ludovico lived in
terror of intervention on the part of Ferrante and his Florentine
allies. Hoping to veil the injustice of his cause under Imperial
recognition, he turned to Maximilian, and offered, in return for his
own investiture as Duke of Milan, the hand of his niece, Bianca Maria
Sforza, and a substantial dowry of 300,000 ducats.[45] So much hard
cash seemed to promise to the needy Maximilian the fulfilment of many a
golden {35} dream; and the bride's want of pedigree was atoned for by
the practical possession of her uncle's money bags. The marriage was
duly celebrated on March 9, 1494, at Halle in Tyrol, when the heir of
all the Caesars linked himself with the granddaughter of a Romagnol
peasant.[46] Thus his first entry into Italian politics rightly
exposed him with justice to the nickname afterwards bestowed upon
him--Massimiliano Pochi Danari. "On the altar of politics the heart is
often the lamb of sacrifice." Maximilian's second marriage is not the
most creditable episode in his life. The luckless Bianca Maria never
filled the place of Mary in her husband's affections, and remained till
her death[47] a mere cipher, with next to no influence over him, and,
though never ill-treated, entirely neglected and overlooked. The
unpopularity of his marriage in Germany induced Maximilian to postpone
the investiture of Ludovico with the Milanese, and Gian Galeazzo dying
in the interval, the Emperor was able, with less offence to his
conscience, to fulfil his promise in May 1495.[48]
Maximilian's first intention was to employ his wife's dowry in a
Crusade against the Turks; and he plunged eagerly into projects of
forming active alliances abroad and of raising permanent forces at home
to stem the tide of infidel invasion.[49] But disturbing {36} rumours
of the doings of Charles VIII. diverted his attention to the Italian
Peninsula.
By the death of Lorenzo de' Medici in 1492, the balance of power, which
his skill had so long preserved in Italy, was seriously endangered.
The incapable Piero inclined towards Naples, whose attitude was now
little short of openly hostile to the Milanese usurper. Ludovico, in
dire need of some influential ally, made advances to the new Pope and
to Venice. But his alliance with these powers was shortlived: Spanish
diplomacy effected a reconciliation between Naples and Alexander VI.,
and Ludovico found himself more isolated than ever. The death of the
old King of Naples, in January 1494, hastened events. The universal
hatred with which his successor, Alfonso II., was regarded, while it
drove the exiled Barons to extreme measures, was favourable to the
cause of Ludovico. He turned naturally to Charles VIII., who had
recently acquired the Angevin claims to the throne of Naples, and whose
feeble mind was filled with all the clap-trap of mediaeval chivalry.
The appeal met with an enthusiastic response: every other trend of
policy was sacrificed that this might succeed. By the end of August
1494, all was prepared for the invasion of Italy, and, with a
magnificently appointed army of 60,000 men, Charles crossed the Alps
and was welcomed by the traitor Ludovico. Florence opened her gates to
the deliverer: the Pope abandoned Rome at his approach, and looked on
in sullen anxiety from Sant' Angelo; and Naples itself was occupied
amid general rejoicings, almost before a single blow had been struck.
Dazzled by such unprecedented success, Charles VIII. lost all restraint
and began to indulge in the {37} wildest dreams. He was to recover
Jerusalem, to eject the infidel from Europe, and to restore in his own
person the fallen Empire of Constantinople. Rightly or wrongly, he was
credited with the intention of forcing the Pope to crown him Emperor of
the West, or of driving him from the Papal throne and instituting a
thorough reform of the Church. Such rumours could not but fill
Maximilian with an uneasiness which Borgia's letters did not fail to
augment.[50] It was only owing to the skilful diplomacy of Charles'
envoys and his own strained relations with Venice, that he preserved
neutrality for so long as he did.[51] Had not others taken alarm at
the turn of affairs, he might have prevaricated till the time for
action had passed. Ludovico, who was before all others responsible for
the French expedition, was the first to be disillusioned. Alarmed at
the open designs of the Duke of Orleans on Milan, he soon became as
anxious for Charles' ruin as he had been eager for his success, and
looked for assistance to his more powerful neighbours. But it was
Ferdinand of Spain who really brought about Maximilian's change of
policy, by holding out the tempting bait of a double marriage alliance
with his House. The Emperor's[52] suspicions of Venice were overcome,
and the Signoria became {38} the centre of opposition to France. The
various intrigues were conducted with such skill and secrecy, that even
Comines, who then held the post of French Ambassador in Venice, was
completely outwitted. But their details do not leave us with a
favourable impression of the confederates' straightforwardness. The
itch of the Republic's patriotic palm was allayed by a promise of the
Apulian ports; while the Pope displayed to the full his talent for
shifty intrigue and prevarication, and Maximilian kept up a stream of
friendly assurances which effectively duped his young and incapable
rival.
Thus the proclamation of the Holy League, between the Pope, Maximilian,
Ferdinand, Ludovico and the Venetians, (March 31, 1495) came upon the
French as a bolt from the blue. Its ostensible objects were to defend
the Papacy, and to secure peace in Italy and mutual protection against
the attacks of other Princes. But from the very first its members made
little attempt to conceal their genuine aim--the expulsion of the
French from the Peninsula. The massing of troops by each of the allies
removed all doubts upon the subject; and Charles VIII. saw himself
compelled to abandon Naples. On July 6, 1495, ne encountered the
forces of the League at the battle of Fornovo, and after a running
engagement made good his retreat westwards. Even then the German and
Venetian troops might have inflicted serious losses on his armies ere
they recrossed the Alps; but the treachery of Ludovico, who concluded a
treaty with Charles without consulting any of his allies, forced them
to retire and leave the French unmolested.
Meanwhile Maximilian was engaged at the famous {39} Diet of Worms (26
March-August, 1495). Burning to strike a blow which might tend to the
humiliation of his rival, he found himself once more, so to speak, the
prisoner of his pocket. The Electors and the other Estates were
determined that redress should precede supply, and stubbornly refused
to grant a single florin, until the question of reform had been placed
on a satisfactory basis. Nor can they be accused of any want of
patriotism; for the interests of the Empire were by no means coincident
with those of Austria. Indeed, had not Maximilian's territorial
instincts triumphed so completely over his feelings as Emperor, he
might have been the first to recognize the deep and sterling patriotism
which inspired the Elector Berthold. As it was, his first intention
had been to remain fourteen days at Worms, and, after obtaining the
Diet's sanction for the Imperial levies, to conduct a vigorous campaign
against the French. But here he was met by the practical impossibility
of inducing a body mainly constituted for peace, to undertake a long
and tedious war at a distance. The feudal system had fallen into
decay, and the old military power of the Empire was no more. New
circumstances demanded new measures; and the triumph achieved by a
standing army in France pointed the direction which military reform
should take. The proposal, then, which Maximilian laid before the
Diet, was for a continuous money aid for ten or twelve years; with this
he might form an army of landsknechts. But the Diet was wholly
unsympathetic, and rigidly confined itself to schemes of reform.
Meetings were sometimes held without any reference to the Emperor, and,
as he indignantly exclaimed, he found himself treated with {40} less
consideration than some petty burgomaster. The struggle of parties
lasted throughout the summer, Maximilian adopting a highly undignified
attitude of sulking. On three occasions he was particularly pressing,
especially in August, when Novara was threatened by the Swiss, and a
mutiny of the lands-knechts might be expected, if their pay was not
forthcoming. At last nothing was left for Maximilian but submission,
and he accepted the Elector Berthold's proposals for reform. But
Charles VIII. had already recrossed the Alps, and the time for action
was past.
Yet, notwithstanding his enforced inactivity, Maximilian's presence at
Worms had not been in vain. The brilliancy of the Court and the
gallant ceremonies of the lists hid from the casual observer the true
meaning of this great assembly of princes and nobles. Yet the two
important results of Maximilian's policy form a striking contrast to
his humiliation at the hands of the Electors. In return for the
services of Count Eberhard, he erected Würtemberg into a Duchy, at the
same time limiting the succession to heirs-male. Since the hopes of
the new ducal family rested upon one delicate youth,[53] this
arrangement held out to Maximilian or his successors the prospect of
acquiring the fair valley of the upper Neckar. But the other
achievement of his policy was destined to have far more momentous
consequences. This was the fulfilment of his agreement with Ferdinand
the Catholic, in accordance with which the Prince of Asturias was
betrothed to Margaret of Austria, and the Archduke Philip to Joanna of
Spain. By an extraordinary fatality, the latter marriage, which at the
time had {41} seemed the less important of the two, came to exercise a
vast influence on the history of Europe. The Spanish heir died within
a year of his marriage (1497), and Margaret's child lived but a few
days. Isabella Queen of Portugal was now heiress of Castile and
Arragon; but the fates fought against the unity of the Peninsula. In
1498 Isabella died, and in 1500 her only child, Prince Miguel, followed
her to the grave. Philip's wife, Joanna, became heiress of Spain and
all its splendid dependencies in the New World.
Though Maximilian had been thwarted in the hope of meeting his rival on
the open field, the next year brought a prospect of intervention in
Italian affairs. Charles VIII., on his return to France, had set on
foot preparations for a fresh invasion. The success of his overtures
to the Swiss Cantons, and the servile attitude of Florence, filled the
Venetians and Ludovico with alarm; and the two powers invited
Maximilian to make an expedition to Italy in person. His eagerness to
restore Imperial influence in that country, coupled with his knightly
thirst for renown, led him, with curious inconsistency, to submit to
the indignity of becoming the pensioner of States whose feudal superior
he claimed to be. Each promised 30,000 ducats for three months towards
the payment of his troops and engaged a number of Swiss mercenaries in
addition. The Emperor's sanguine nature already saw the French party
in Italy crushed, and frontier provinces wrested from the grasp of
Charles. But the Estates of the Empire, which had been summoned to
meet at Lindau, proved more unmanageable than ever. Even had his
condottiere-contract not filled them with disgust, they were wholly
disinclined to {42} repay his grudging and half-cancelled concessions
by grants of money for an object which the Empire viewed with
indifference. His penury may be judged by a letter which he received
from his councillors at Worms, containing an urgent request for more
money, as the maintenance of the courtiers has been stopped, and the
Queen and her ladies will be provided for "only three or four days
more; and if within that time no money comes, even their food-supplies
will come to an end."[54]
[Illustration: LUDOVICO SFORZA (Duke of Milan)]