CHARLES VI.
From 1716 to 1727.
Heroic Decision of Eugene.--Battle of Belgrade.--Utter Rout of the
Turks.--Possessions of Charles VI.--The Elector of Hanover Succeeds to
the English Throne.--Preparations for War.--State of Italy.--Philip V.
of Spain.--Diplomatic Agitations.--Palace of St. Ildefonso.--Order of
the Golden Fleece.--Rejection of Maria Anne.--Contest for the Rock of
Gibraltar.--Dismissal of Ripperda.--Treaty of Vienna.--Peace Concluded.
The enterprise upon which Eugene had resolved was bold in the extreme.
It could only be accomplished by consummate bravery aided by equal
military skill. The foe they were to attack were five to one, and were
protected by well-constructed redoubts, armed with the most formidable
batteries. They were also abundantly supplied with cavalry, and the
Turkish cavalry were esteemed the finest horsemen in the world. There
was but one circumstance in favor of Eugene. The Turks did not dream
that he would have the audacity to march from the protection of his
intrenchments and assail them behind their own strong ramparts. There
was consequently but little difficulty in effecting a surprise.
All the arrangements were made with the utmost precision and secrecy for
a midnight attack. The favorable hour came. The sun went down in clouds,
and a night of Egyptian darkness enveloped the armies. The glimmer of
innumerable camp-fires only pointed out the position of the foe, without
throwing any illumination upon the field. Eugene visited all the posts
of the army, ordered abundant refreshment to be distributed to the
troops, addressed them in encouraging words, to impress upon them the
importance of the enterprise, and minutely assigned to each battalion,
regiment, brigade and division its duty, that there might be no
confusion. The whole plan was carefully arranged in all its details and
in all its grand combination. As the bells of Belgrade tolled the hour
of twelve at midnight, three bombs, simultaneously discharged, put the
whole Austrian army in rapid and noiseless motion.
A dense fog had now descended, through which they could with difficulty
discern the twinkling lights of the Turkish camp. Rapidly they traversed
the intervening space, and in dense, solid columns, rushed over the
ramparts of the foe. Bombs, cannon, musketry, bayonets, cavalry, all
were employed, amidst the thunderings and the lightnings of that
midnight storm of war, in the work of destruction. The Turks, roused
from their slumber, amazed, bewildered, fought for a short time with
maniacal fury, often pouring volleys of bullets into the bosoms of their
friends, and with bloody cimeters smiting indiscriminately on the right
hand and the left, till, in the midst of a scene of confusion and horror
which no imagination can conceive, they broke and fled. Two hundred
thousand men, lighted only by the flash of guns which mowed their ranks,
with thousands of panic-stricken cavalry trampling over them, while the
crash of musketry, the explosions of artillery, the shouts of the
assailants and the fugitives, and the shrieks of the dying, blended in a
roar more appalling than heaven's heaviest thunders, presented a scene
which has few parallels even in the horrid annals of war.
The morning dawned upon a field of blood and death. The victory of the
Austrians was most decisive. The flower of the Turkish army was cut to
pieces, and the remnant was utterly dispersed. The Turkish camp, with
all its abundant booty of tents, provisions, ammunition and artillery,
fell into the hands of the conqueror. So signal was the victory, that
the disheartened Turks made no attempt to retrieve their loss. Belgrade
was surrendered to the Austrians, and the sultan implored peace. The
articles were signed in Passarovitz, a small town of Servia, in July,
1718. By this treaty the emperor added Belgrade to his dominions, and
also a large part of Wallachia and Servia.
Austria and Spain were still in heart at war, as the emperor claimed the
crown of Spain, and was only delaying active hostilities until he could
dispose of his more immediate foes. Charles, soon after the death of his
cousin, the Portuguese princess, with whom he had formed a matrimonial
engagement, married Elizabeth Christina, a princess of Brunswick. The
imperial family now consisted of three daughters, Maria Theresa, Maria
Anne and Maria Amelia. It will be remembered that by the family compact
established by Leopold, the succession was entailed upon Charles in
preference to the daughters of Joseph, in case Joseph should die without
male issue. But should Charles die without male issue, the crown was to
revert to the daughters of Joseph in preference to those of Charles. The
emperor, having three daughters and no sons, with natural parental
partiality, but unjustly, and with great want of magnanimity, was
anxious to deprive the daughters of Joseph of their rights, that he
might secure the crown for his own daughters. He accordingly issued a
decree reversing this contract, and settling the right of succession
first upon his daughters, should he die without sons, then upon the
daughters of Joseph, one of whom had married the Elector of Saxony and
the other the Elector of Bavaria. After them he declared his sister, who
had married the King of Portugal, and then his other sisters, the
daughters of Leopold, to be in the line of succession. This new law of
succession Charles issued under the name of the Pragmatic Sanction. He
compelled his nieces, the daughters of Joseph, to give their assent to
this Sanction, and then, for the remainder of his reign, made the
greatest efforts to induce all the powers of Europe to acknowledge its
validity.
Charles VI. was now, as to the extent of territory over which he reigned
and the population subject to his sway, decidedly the most powerful
monarch in Christendom. Three hundred princes of the German empire
acknowledged him as their elected sovereign. By hereditary right he
claimed dominion over Bohemia, Hungary, Transylvania, Wallachia, Servia,
Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, the Tyrol, and all the rich and populous
States of the Netherlands. Naples, Sicily, Mantua and Milan in Italy,
also recognized his sovereignty. To enlightened reason nothing can seem
more absurd than that one man, of very moderate capacities, luxuriating
in his palace at Vienna, should pretend to hold dominion over so many
millions so widely dispersed. But the progress of the world towards
intelligent liberty has been very slow. When we contrast the
constitution of the United States with such a political condition, all
our evils and difficulties dwindle to utter insignificance.
Still the power of the emperor was in many respects apparent rather than
real. Each of these States had its own customs and laws. The nobles were
tumultuary, and ever ready, if their privileges were infringed, to rise
in insurrection. Military force alone could hold these turbulent realms
in awe; and the old feudal servitude which crushed the millions, was but
another name for anarchy. The peace establishment of the emperor
amounted to one hundred thousand men, and every one of these was
necessary simply to garrison his fortresses. The enormous expense of the
support of such an army, with all the outlays for the materiel of war,
the cavalry, and the structure of vast fortresses, exhausted the
revenues of a kingdom in which the masses of the people were so
miserably poor that they were scarcely elevated above the beasts of the
field, and where the finances had long been in almost irreparable
disorder. The years of peace, however, were very few. War, a maelstrom
which ingulfs uncounted millions, seems to have been the normal state of
Germany. But the treasury of Charles was so constantly drained that he
could never, even in his greatest straits, raise more than one hundred
and sixty thousand men; and he was often compelled to call upon the aid
of a foreign purse to meet the expense which that number involved.
Within a hundred years the nations have made vast strides in wealth, and
in the consequent ability to throw away millions in war.
Charles VI. commenced his reign with intense devotion to business. He
resolved to be an illustrious emperor, vigorously superintending all the
interests of the empire, legislative, judicial and executive. For a few
weeks he was busy night and day, buried in a hopeless mass of diplomatic
papers. But he soon became weary of this, and leaving all the ordinary
affairs of the State in the hands of agents, amused himself with his
violin and in chasing rabbits. As more serious employment, he gave
pompous receptions, and enveloped himself in imperial ceremony and the
most approved courtly etiquette. He still, however, insisted upon giving
his approval to all measures adopted by his ministers, before they were
carried into execution. But as he was too busy with his entertainments,
his music and the chase, to devote much time to the dry details of
government, papers were accumulating in a mountainous heap in his
cabinet, and the most important business was neglected.
Charles XII. was now King of Sweden; Peter the Great, Emperor of Russia;
George I., King of England; and the shameful regency had succeeded, in
France, the reign of Louis XIV. For eighteen years a bloody war had been
sweeping the plains of Poland, Russia and Sweden. Thousands had been
torn to pieces by the enginery of war, and trampled beneath iron hoofs.
Millions of women and children had been impoverished, beggared, and
turned out houseless into the fields to moan and starve and die. The
claims of humanity must ever yield to the requisitions of war. This
fierce battle of eighteen years was fought to decide which of three men,
Peter of Russia, Charles of Sweden, or Augustus of Poland, should have
the right to exact tribute from Livonia. This province was a vast
pasture on the Baltic, containing about seventeen thousand square miles,
and inhabited by about five hundred thousand poor herdsmen and tillers
of the soil.
Peter the Great was in the end victorious in this long conflict; and
having attached large portions of Sweden to his territory, with a navy
upon the Baltic, and a disciplined army, began to be regarded as a
European power, and was quite disposed to make his voice heard in the
diplomacy of Europe. Queen Anne having died, leaving no children, the
law of hereditary descent carried the crown of England to Germany, and
placed it upon the brow of the Elector of Hanover, who, as grandson of
James I., was the nearest heir, but who could not speak a word of
English, who knew nothing of constitutional law, and who was about as
well qualified to govern England as a Patagonian or Esquimaux would have
been. But obedience to this law of hereditary descent was a political
necessity. There were thousands of able men in England who could have
administered the government with honor to themselves and to the country.
But it is said in reply that the people of England, as a body, were not
then, and probably are not even now, sufficiently enlightened to be
intrusted with the choice of their own rulers. Respect for the
ballot-box is one of the last and highest attainments of civilization.
Recent developments in our own land have led many to fear that barbarism
is gaining upon the people. If the _ballot-box_ be overturned, the
_cartridge-box_ must take its place. The great battle we have to fight
is the battle against popular ignorance. The great army we are to
support is the army of teachers in the schools and in the pulpit,
elevating the mind to the highest possible intelligence, and guiding the
heart by the pure spirit of the gospel.
The emperor was so crowded with affairs of immediate urgency, and it was
so evident that he could not drive Philip from the throne, now that he
was recognized by all Europe, that he postponed the attempt for a
season, while he still adopted the title of King of Spain. His troops
had hardly returned from the brilliant campaign of Belgrade, ere the
emperor saw a cloud gathering in the north, which excited his most
serious apprehension. Russia and Sweden, irritated by some of the acts
of the emperor, formed an alliance for the invasion of the German
empire. The fierce warriors of the north, led by such captains as
Charles XII. and Peter the Great, were foes not to be despised. This
threatened invasion not only alarmed the emperor, but alarmed George I.
of England, as his electorate of Hanover was imperiled; and also excited
the fears of Augustus, the Elector of Saxony, who had regained the
throne of Poland. England and Poland consequently united with the
emperor, and formidable preparations were in progress for a terrible
war, when one single chance bullet, upon the field of Pultowa, struck
Charles XII., as he was looking over the parapet, and dispersed this
cloud which threatened the desolation of all Europe.
Austria was now the preponderating power in degenerate Italy. Even those
States which were not in subjection to the emperor, were overawed by his
imperious spirit. Genoa was nominally independent. The Genoese arrested
one of the imperial officers for some violation of the laws of the
republic. The emperor sent an army to the gates of the city, threatening
it with bombardment and utter destruction. They were thus compelled
immediately to liberate the officer, to pay a fine of three hundred
thousand dollars, and to send a senator to Vienna with humble
expressions of contrition, and to implore pardon.
The kingdom of Sardinia was at this time the most powerful State in
Italy, if we except those united Italian States which now composed an
integral part of the Austrian empire. Victor Asmedeus, the energetic
king, had a small but vigorous army, and held himself ready, with this
army, for a suitable remuneration, to engage in the service of any
sovereign, without asking any troublesome questions as to the
righteousness of the expedition in which he was to serve. The Sardinian
king was growing rich, and consequently ambitious. He wished to rise
from the rank of a secondary to that of a primary power in Europe. There
was but one direction in which he could hope to extend his territories,
and that was by pressing into Lombardy. He had made the remark, which
was repeated to the emperor, "I must acquire Lombardy piece by piece, as
I eat an artichoke." Charles, consequently, watched Victor with a
suspicious eye.
The four great powers of middle and southern Europe were Austria,
England, France, and Spain. All the other minor States, innumerable in
name as well as number, were compelled to take refuge, openly or
secretly, beneath one or another of these great monarchies.
In France, the Duke of Orleans, the regent during the minority of Louis
XV., whose court, in the enormous expenditures of vice, exhausted the
yearly earnings of a population of twenty millions, was anxious to unite
the Bourbon' branches of France and Spain in more intimate alliance. He
accordingly affianced the young sovereign of France to Mary Anne,
daughter of Philip V. of Spain. At the same time he married his own
daughter to the king's oldest son, the Prince of Asturias, who was heir
to the throne. Mary Anne, to whom the young king was affianced, was only
four years of age.
The personal history of the monarchs of Europe is, almost without
exception, a melancholy history. By their ambition and their wars they
whelmed the cottages in misery, and by a righteous retribution misery
also inundated the palace. Philip V. became the victim of the most
insupportable melancholy. Earth had no joy which could lift the cloud of
gloom from his soul. For months he was never known to smile. Imprisoning
himself in his palace he refused to see any company, and left all the
cares of government in the hands of his wife, Elizabeth Farnese.
Germany was still agitated by the great religious contest between the
Catholics and the Protestants, which divided the empire into two nearly
equal parties, bitterly hostile to each other. Various fruitless
attempts had been made to bring the parties together, into _unity of
faith_, by compromise. Neither party were reconciled to cordial
_toleration_, free and full, in which alone harmony can be obtained. In
all the States of the empire the Catholics and the Protestants were
coming continually into collision. Charles, though a very decided
Catholic, was not disposed to persecute the Protestants, as most of his
predecessors had done, for he feared to rouse them to despair.
England, France, Austria and Spain, were now involved in an inextricable
maze of diplomacy. Congresses were assembled and dissolved; treaties
made and violated; alliances formed and broken. Weary of the conflict of
arms, they were engaged in the more harmless squabbles of intrigue, each
seeking its own aggrandizement. Philip V., who had fought so many bloody
battles to acquire the crown of Spain, now, disgusted with the cares
which that crown involved, overwhelmed with melancholy, and trembling in
view of the final judgment of God, suddenly abdicated the throne in
favor of his son Louis, and took a solemn oath that he would never
resume it again. This event, which surprised Europe, took place on the
10th of February, 1724. Philip retired to St. Ildefonso.
The celebrated palace of St. Ildefonso, which became the retreat of the
monarch, was about forty miles north of Madrid, in an elevated ravine
among the mountains of Gaudarruma. It was an enormous pile, nearly four
thousand feet above the level of the sea, and reared by the Spanish
monarchs at an expense exceeding thirty millions of dollars. The palace,
two stories high, and occupying three sides of a square, presents a
front five hundred and thirty feet in length. In this front alone there
are, upon each story, twelve gorgeous apartments in a suite. The
interior is decorated in the richest style of art, with frescoed
ceilings, and splendid mirrors, and tesselated floors of variegated
marble. The furniture was embellishcd with gorgeous carvings, and
enriched with marble, jasper and verd-antique. The galleries were filled
with the most costly productions of the chisel and the pencil. The
spacious garden, spread out before the palace, was cultivated with the
utmost care, and ornamented with fountains surpassing even those of
Versailles.
To this magnificent retreat Philip V. retired with his imperious,
ambitious wife. She was the step-mother of his son who had succeeded to
the throne. For a long time, by the vigor of her mind, she had dominated
over her husband, and had in reality been the sovereign of Spain. In the
magnificent palace of St. Ildefonso, she was by no means inclined to
relinquish her power. Gathering a brilliant court around her, she still
issued her decrees, and exerted a powerful influence over the kingdom.
The young Louis, who was but a boy, was not disposed to engage in a
quarrel with his mother, and for a time submitted to this interference;
but gradually he was roused by his adherents, to emancipate himself from
these shackles, and to assume the authority of a sovereign. This led to
very serious trouble. The abdicated king, in his moping melancholy, was
entirely in subjection to his wife. There were now two rival courts.
Parties were organizing. Some were for deposing the son; others for
imprisoning the father. The kingdom was on the eve of a civil war, when
death kindly came to settle the difficulty.
The young King Louis, but eighteen years of age, after a nominal reign
of but eight months, was seized with that awful scourge the small-pox,
and, after a few days of suffering and delirium, was consigned to the
tomb. Philip, notwithstanding his vow, was constrained by his wife to
resume the crown, she probably promising to relieve him of all care.
Such are the vicissitudes of a hereditary government. Elizabeth, with
woman's spirit, now commanded the emperor to renounce the title of King
of Spain, which he still claimed. Charles, with the spirit of an
emperor, declared that he would do no such thing.
There was another serious source of difficulty between the two monarchs,
which has descended, generation after generation, to our own time, and
to this day is only settled by each party quietly persisting in his own
claim.
In the year 1430 Philip III., Duke of Burgundy, instituted a new order
of knighthood for the protection of the Catholic church, to be called
the order of the Golden Fleece. But twenty-four members were to be
admitted, and Philip himself was the grand master. Annual meetings were
held to fill vacancies. Charles V., as grand master, increased the
number of knights to fifty-one. After his death, as the Burgundian
provinces and the Netherlands passed under the dominion of Spain, the
Spanish monarchs exercised the office of grand master, and conferred the
dignity, which was now regarded the highest order of knighthood in
Europe, according to their pleasure. But Charles VI., now in admitted
possession of the Netherlands, by virtue of that possession claimed the
office of grand master of the Golden Fleece. Philip also claimed it as
the inheritance of the kings of Spain. The dispute has never been
settled. Both parties still claim it, and the order is still conferred
both at Vienna and Madrid.
Other powers interfered, in the endeavor to promote reconciliation
between the hostile courts, but, as usual, only increased the acrimony
of the two parties. The young Spanish princess Mary Anne, who was
affianced to the Dauphin of France, was sent to Paris for her education,
and that she might become familiar with the etiquette of a court over
which she was to preside as queen. For a time she was treated with great
attention, and child as she was, received all the homage which the
courtiers were accustomed to pay to the Queen of France. But amidst the
intrigues of the times a change arose, and it was deemed a matter of
state policy to marry the boy-king to another princess. The French court
consequently rejected Maria Anne and sent her back to Spain, and married
Louis, then but fifteen years of age, to Maria Lebrinsky, daughter of
the King of Poland. The rejected child was too young fully to appreciate
the mortification. Her parents, however, felt the insult most keenly.
The whole Spanish court was roused to resent it as a national outrage.
The queen was so indignant that she tore from her arm a bracelet which
she wore, containing a portrait of Louis XV., and dashing it upon the
floor, trampled it beneath her feet. Even the king was roused from his
gloom by the humiliation of his child, and declared that no amount of
blood could atone for such an indignity.
Under the influence of this exasperation, the queen resolved to seek
reconciliation with Austria, that all friendly relations might be
abandoned with France, and that Spain and Austria might be brought into
intimate alliance to operate against their common foe. A renowned
Spanish diplomatist, the Baron of Ripperda, had been for some time a
secret agent of the queen at the court of Vienna, watching the progress
of events there. He resided in the suburbs under a fictitious name, and
eluding the vigilance of the ministry, had held by night several secret
interviews with the emperor, proposing to him, in the name of the queen,
plans of reconciliation. Letters were immediately dispatched to Ripperda
urging him to come to an accommodation with the emperor upon almost any
terms.
A treaty was soon concluded, early in the spring of 1725. The emperor
renounced all claim to the Spanish crown, entered into an alliance, both
offensive and defensive, with Philip, and promised to aid, both with men
and money, to help recover Gibraltar from the English, which fortress
they had held since they seized upon it in the war of the Spanish
succession. In consideration of these great concessions Philip agreed to
recognize the right of the emperor to the Netherlands and to his
acquisitions in Italy. He opened all the ports of Spain to the subjects
of the emperor, and pledged himself to support the Pragmatic Sanction,
which wrested the crown of Austria from the daughters of Joseph, and
transmitted it to the daughters of Charles. It was this last clause
which influenced the emperor, for his whole heart was set upon the
accomplishment of this important result, and he was willing to make
almost any sacrifice to attain it. There were also some secret articles
attached which have never been divulged.
The immediate demand of Spain for the surrender of the rock of Gibraltar
was the signal for all Europe to marshal itself for war--a war which
threatened the destruction of hundreds of thousands of lives, millions
of property, and which was sure to spread far and wide over populous
cities and extended provinces, carnage, conflagration, and unspeakable
woe. The question was, whether England or Spain should have possession
of a rock seven miles long and one mile broad, which was supposed, but
very erroneously, to command the Mediterranean. To the rest of Europe it
was hardly a matter of the slightest moment whether the flag of England
or Spain waved over those granite cliffs. It seems incredible that
beings endowed with reason could be guilty of such madness.
England, with great vigor, immediately rallied on her side France,
Hanover, Holland, Denmark and Sweden. On the other side were Spain,
Austria, Russia, Prussia and a large number of the minor States of
Germany. Many months were occupied in consolidating these coalitions,
and in raising the armies and gathering the materials for the war.
In the meantime Ripperda, having so successfully, as he supposed,
concluded his negotiations at Vienna, in a high state of exultation
commenced his journey back to Spain. Passing down through the Tyrol and
traversing Italy he embarked at Genoa and landed at Barcelona. Here he
boasted loudly of what he had accomplished.
"Spain and the emperor now united," he said, "will give the law to
Europe. The emperor has one hundred and fifty thousand troops under
arms, and in six months can bring as many more into the field. France
shall be pillaged. George I. shall be driven both from his German and
his British territories."
From Barcelona Ripperda traveled rapidly to Madrid, where he was
received with almost regal honors by the queen, who was now in reality
the sovereign. She immediately appointed him Secretary of State, and
transferred to him the reins of government which she had taken from the
unresisting hands of her moping husband. Thus Ripperda became, in all
but title, the King of Spain. He was a weak man, of just those traits of
character which would make him a haughty woman's favorite. He was so
elated with this success, became so insufferably vain, and assumed such
imperious airs as to disgust all parties. He made the most extravagant
promises of the subsidies the emperor was to furnish, and of the powers
which were to combine to trample England and France beneath their feet.
It was soon seen that these promises were merely the vain-glorious
boasts of his own heated brain. Even the imperial ambassador at Madrid
was so repelled by his arrogance, that he avoided as far as possible all
social and even diplomatic intercourse with him. There was a general
combination of the courtiers to crush the favorite. The queen, who, with
all her ambition, had a good share of sagacity, soon saw the mistake she
had made, and in four months after Ripperda's return to Madrid, he was
dismissed in disgrace.
A general storm of contempt and indignation pursued the discarded
minister. His rage was now inflamed as much as his vanity had been.
Fearful of arrest and imprisonment, and burning with that spirit of
revenge which is ever strongest in weakest minds, he took refuge in the
house of the British ambassador, Mr. Stanhope. Hostilities had not yet
commenced. Indeed there had been no declaration of war, and diplomatic
relations still continued undisturbed. Each party was acting secretly,
and watching the movements of the other with a jealous eye.
Ripperda sought protection beneath the flag of England, and with the
characteristic ignominy of deserters and traitors, endeavored to
ingratiate himself with his new friends by disclosing all the secrets of
his negotiations at Vienna. Under these circumstances full confidence
can not be placed in his declarations, for he had already proved himself
to be quite unscrupulous in regard to truth. The indignant queen sent an
armed force, arrested the duke in the house of the British ambassador,
and sent him, in close imprisonment, to the castle of Segovia. He,
however, soon escaped from there and fled to England, where he
reiterated his declarations respecting the secret articles of the treaty
of Vienna. The most important of these declarations was, that Spain and
the emperor had agreed to drive George I. from England and to place the
Pretender, who had still many adherents, upon the British throne. It was
also asserted that marriage contracts were entered into which, by
uniting the daughters of the emperor with the sons of the Spanish
monarch, would eventually place the crowns of Austria and Spain upon the
same brow. The thought of such a vast accumulation of power in the hands
of any one monarch, alarmed all the rest of Europe. Both Spain and the
emperor denied many of the statements made by Ripperda. But as _truth_
has not been esteemed a diplomatic virtue, and as both Ripperda and the
sovereigns he had served were equally tempted to falsehood, and were
equally destitute of any character for truth, it is not easy to decide
which party to believe.
England and France took occasion, through these disclosures, to rouse
the alarm of Europe. So much apprehension was excited in Prussia,
Bavaria, and with other princes of the empire, who were appalled at the
thought of having another Spanish prince upon the imperial throne, that
the emperor sent ambassadors to these courts to appease their anxiety,
and issued a public declaration denying that any such marriages were in
contemplation; while at the same time he was promising the Queen of
Spain these marriages, to secure her support. England and France accuse
the emperor of deliberate, persistent, unblushing falsehood.
The emperor seems now to have become involved in an inextricable maze of
prevarication and duplicity, striving in one court to accomplish
purposes which in other courts he was denying that he wished to
accomplish. His embarrassment at length became so great, the greater
part of Europe being roused and jealous, that he was compelled to
abandon Spain, and reluctantly to sign a treaty of amity with France and
England. A general armistice was agreed upon for seven years. The King
of Spain, thus abandoned by the emperor, was also compelled to smother
his indignation and to roll back his artillery into the arsenals. Thus
this black cloud of war, which threatened all Europe with desolation,
was apparently dispelled. This treaty, which seemed to restore peace to
Europe, was signed in June, 1727. It was, however, a hollow peace. The
spirit of ambition and aggression animated every court; and each one was
ready, in defiance of treaties and in defiance of the misery of the
world, again to unsheath the sword as soon as any opportunity should
offer for the increase of territory or power.