I. HOW FRANÇOIS I. WAS TAKEN TO MADRID, AND CONFINED IN A MOORISH
CASTLE.
|Had the Duke de Bourbon been able to follow up the great and decisive
victory won at Pavia by an immediate invasion of France, he must
inevitably have become master of the destinies of that kingdom.
His march to Paris could scarcely have been opposed. The king was a
captive--many of his best leaders were slain--others were prisoners--the
flower of the French chivalry was destroyed--the gendarmerie
annihilated. All that was needed was an army. But this Bourbon could not
obtain.
At no previous time was the Imperial army less under the control of its
leaders than after the battle of Pavia. Though enriched by the immense
booty they had acquired, the insatiate Spaniards absolutely refused to
proceed upon any fresh campaign until they received their arrears of
pay; while the German lanz-knechts and reiters, fully satisfied with
their share of the plunder, disbanded, and returned to their own
country.
Thus Bourbon was again prevented from reaping the fruits of his victory.
The crown of France was within reach, if he could have grasped it. But
this was impossible without an army. He had counted upon the aid of Von
Frundsberg, but that bold commander, though devoted to him, and ready to
accompany him, could not keep together his men, who were determined to
place their plunder in the care of their families.
Time was thus given to the Duchess d'Angoulême, Regent of France,
who displayed extraordinary courage and activity in the emergency,
to prepare for the defence of the kingdom by levying fresh forces
in Switzerland, by entering into an alliance with England, and by
negotiating with the different Italian states.
Immediately after the battle of Pavia the whole of the Milanese was
evacuated by the French troops, who made their way across the Alps
with the utmost expedition, and the different cities were at once taken
possession of by the Imperialists. Francesco Sforza returned to Milan,
and ostensibly resumed his former sway, but being now little better than
a vassal of the Emperor, he exercised no real authority in the duchy.
Hence he naturally became anxious to throw off the yoke imposed upon
him, and entered into a league with the rest of the Italian states for
protection against their common enemy.
Meanwhile François I. had been detained a close prisoner within
the fortress of Pizzighettone, strictly guarded by the harsh and
incorruptible Alarcon. But as it was not unlikely that rescue might be
attempted, or that the illustrious captive, though ever so carefully
watched, might contrive to effect his escape, it was judged prudent
to remove him to Spain, and he was accordingly conducted to Madrid by
Alarcon and Lannoy--contrary to the wishes of Bourbon, who desired to
keep him in Italy.
On his arrival at Madrid, the unfortunate king was placed in an old
Moorish castle, and treated with unbecoming severity. Charles V. refused
to see him, hoping that the tediousness of captivity would make him
yield to the hard conditions he had proposed to him.
Bourbon followed the royal prisoner to Madrid, and was received with
the greatest distinction by the Emperor, but neither his brilliant
achievements nor his princely rank could reconcile the haughty Castilian
nobles to his presence at the court. They regarded him as a rebel and
a traitor, and could scarcely refrain from manifesting their scorn and
aversion. He came attended by a large retinue, and as the Emperor did
not desire to assign him apartments in the royal palace, he begged the
Marquis de Villena to lend him his mansion--one of the largest and most
magnificent in Madrid.
“Sire,” replied the proud marquis, “I can refuse you nothing. But I
declare that as soon as the Duke de Bourbon has quitted my house I will
burn it to the ground as a place infected with treason, and unworthy to
be inhabited by men of honour.”
“As you please, my lord,” said Charles V., smiling sternly. “But as I
have instigated the duke to his treason, I must share the reproach, and
since you will not lend him your house, I must perforce lodge him in the
Alcazar.”
Bourbon expected that the treaty for the liberation of the captive
monarch would be speedily concluded, but such was not the Emperor's
policy. Months elapsed, and François still languished in confinement.
On one point only the Emperor relaxed his severity. He permitted the
Duchess d'Alençon to enter Spain, and soothe her royal brother in his
captivity.
33?
Marguerite de Valois was now a widow, the Duke d'Alençon having died
shortly after his ignominious flight from the battle of Pavia, and it
was the hope of the intriguing Duchess d'Angoulême that the charms of
her daughter might Captivate the Emperor, who was still unmarried. The
death of Queen Claude, which occurred immediately after his departure
for Italy, had likewise set François I. free, and he intimated his
willingness to espouse the Emperor's sister, Leanor of Austria; the
prineess, it will be remembered, who had already been promised to the
Duke de Bourbon. To this alliance Charles V. was favourably inclined--he
had long since manifested his disinclination to fulfil his promise to
Bourbon--but he had not yet given his assent to the proposal. In fact,
he intended that the marriage between François I. and Leanor should form
one of the conditions of the king's liberation.
To the Charms of the lovely Marguerite de Valois, who produced a great
effect at the Court of Madrid, and enchanted the grandees by her beauty
and accomplishments, the Emperor was insensible, his choice being
already fixed upon the fair Isabella of Portugal--a princess to whom he
was subsequently united.
At this time Charles V., whose power and successes alarmed all the
sovereigns of Europe, was still in the prime of early manhood,
not having completed his twenty-fifth year, but the gravity of his
deportment and the sternness of his aspect made him look much older.
Young as he was, however, he had already crowded the events of a long
life into his term of existence, and had all the sagacity, prudence, and
caution which years alone are generally supposed to confer. His mode of
life offered a perfect contrast to that of François I. Little addicted
to pleasure, he devoted himself laboriously to affairs of state. Bigoted
in religion, he was ever ready to manifest his zeal for the Catholic
Church by the persecution of heresy. In manner he was serious and
reserved--in disposition obstinate and inflexible. He was a profound
hypocrite, as was exemplified by his conduct after the battle of
Pavia, when he feigned the greatest humility, and forbade any public
demonstrations of joy at so important a victory. “It seems,” says
Voltaire, “that at this juncture he was wanting to his fortune. Instead
of entering France, and profiting by the victory gained by his generals
in Italy, he remained inactive in Spain.” But he could not follow up his
success. Lacking the means of carrying on the war, he resolved to impose
the hardest conditions possible upon his royal captive, and extort a
heavy ransom from him. With this view, the unfortunate king was treated
with the unjustifiable severity we have described.
A more remarkable countenance than that of Charles V has seldom been
seen. At the period in question, his physiognomy had not acquired the
sternness, almost grimness, which characterised it in later life, but
even then it was cold and severe. His eyes were grey, searching in
expression, and seemed to read the thoughts of those he gazed upon.
His brow was lofty, and indeed the upper part of his face was extremely
handsome. The nose was well formed, though not set quite straight,
but the main defect of the countenance was the chin, the lower jaw
protruding so much beyond the upper that the teeth could not meet
properly. Notwithstanding this drawback, which was transmitted to all
his descendants, and formed a characteristic of the House of Austria,
his face was cast in a noble mould, and power, inflexibility, and wisdom
could be read in every lineament.
In stature Charles V was not above the middle height, but his port was
erect and stately. His limbs were strong and well proportioned, and if
his movements lacked lightness and grace, they were never deficient in
majesty.
Nearly a year had elapsed since the unfortunate François had been
brought to Madrid, and he was still kept a close prisoner in the Moorish
castle, when one morning the Duke de Bourbon solicited an audience
of the Emperor, which was immediately granted. Charles V. was in his
cabinet at the time, and with him were the Viceroy of Naples and his
chancellor, Gattinara.
The Emperor was attired, as usual, in habiliments of a sombre hue. His
doublet and hose were of black taffety, His black damask mantle was
trimmed with sable, and embroidered with the cross of Santiago. Over his
shoulders he wore the collar of the Toison d'Or, and his black velvet
cap was simply ornamented with a golden chain.
To the Emperor's surprise, Bourbon was accompanied by the Duchess
d'Alençon, and a look of displeasure crossed the monarch's brow on
beholding her. From his manner he appeared disinclined to receive her.
“Sire,” said Bourbon, approaching him, “I beseech you not to dismiss the
duchess unheard.” Then lowering his voice, he added, “I have it on the
physician's authority that the king's life is in imminent danger. He
cannot survive many days unless he is allowed more freedom. If he dies,
your majesty will lose your ransom.”
The Emperor appeared much struck with what was said, and he inquired
somewhat anxiously, “Have you seen him?”
“No, sire,” replied Bourbon, “but I have conversed with the physician. I
pray you listen to the Duchess d'Alençon. Approach, madame,” he added to
her, “his majesty will hear you.”
Thus invited, the beautiful princess, whose countenance bespoke her
affliction, came forward and threw herself at the Emperor's feet.
Charles endeavoured to raise her, but she would not move from her
suppliant posture till she had spoken.
“Sire,” she said, in accents well calculated to move the Emperor, “if
your majesty has any compassion for your unfortunate prisoner you will
see him without delay. You alone have power to cure his malady, which
is caused by grief, and aggravated by mental irritation. That he cannot
long survive if he continues in this state is quite certain, for his
disease is beyond the reach of medicine. His physicians can do no more
for him, and leave him to your majesty. If you abandon him, he will die,
and then you will have a perpetual reproach upon your conscience. Save
him, sire!--save him, while there is yet time!”
“Rest easy, madame, I will save him,” said the Emperor, raising her. “I
had no idea it had come to such a pass with your royal brother. I would
not have him die for all my dominions. Haste and tell him so, madame. I
will come to him speedily.”
“The message will give him new life, sire,” rejoined Marguerite. “I will
prepare him for the visit.”
And with a grateful obeisance to the Emperor she retired, and, quitting
the palace, hastened to the old Moorish castle in which François was
confined.
As soon as the duchess was gone, Gattinara said to the Emperor, “Sire,
permit me to observe, that if you visit the king at this juncture, you
must grant him his liberty unconditionally. Otherwise, your visit will
be attributed to unworthy motives.”
“Would you have the king die, as he infallibly will do, unless his
Imperial Majesty sees him?” cried Bourbon.
“I have deemed it my duty to point out to his majesty the construction
that will be put upon his visit,” rejoined Gattinara, gravely.
“The solid advantages of the victory are not to be sacrificed to an
over-strained sense of honour,” remarked Lannoy. “If the king dies, all
will be lost.”
“Humanity dictates the course to be pursued,” said Bourbon. “To refuse
to see the king would be to condemn him to death.”
“By Santiago! I _will_ see him,” said the Emperor; “and, what is more, I
will conclude the treaty with him. Bring it with you, Gattinara. Now to
the prison.”
II. HOW THE TREATY OF MADRID WAS SIGNED.
|When Marguerite was admitted by the guard into the chamber in which her
royal brother was confined, he was alone, and stretched upon a couch.
“I have good tidings for your majesty,” she cried, flying towards him,
and taking his hand. “The Emperor is coming to see you.”
“It is too late,” said François. “He can do me no good now. I have lost
all hope. Look here,” he added, taking a paper from beneath the cushion
on which he was reclining, “this is an act by which I renounce the crown
of France, and place it in the hands of the Dauphin, exhorting my family
and my people to regard me as dead--and most likely I shall be dead ere
this act can be delivered to my son.”
“I shall not need to take it,” she rejoined. “I am persuaded you will
now be able to make terms with the Emperor.”
“I will rather die than submit to his conditions,” rejoined the king.
“Hear me, François,” she said, “and do not think the course I am about
to suggest unworthy of you. You must be delivered from this prison at
any price.”
“Not at the price of my honour, Marguerite,” he cried. “You cannot
counsel that?”
“You must dissemble with the tyrant, brother,” she rejoined. “You must
beat him with his own weapons. A treaty signed in prison cannot be
binding on you. The circumstances render it invalid. Promise all the
Emperor asks--but perform only what is reasonable and just.
“I must perform all I promise,” said François,
“No,” she rejoined. “You are justified in deceiving a pitiless conqueror
who abuses his position. France will absolve you.”
At this moment, the door was thrown open and gave admittance to the
Emperor, who was attended by Bourbon, Lannoy, and Gattinara.
Charles V. paused near the door to look at his prisoner, and was
sensibly touched by his altered appearance.
“Can this be the magnificent François de Valois?” he muttered to
Bourbon. “Mother of Heaven! how he is changed!”
“Sadly changed, indeed, sire,” rejoined Bourbon. “Even I can pity him.”
On beholding the Emperor, François raised himself with his sister's
support, and said, in accents of mingled bitterness and reproach,
“Your majesty has come to see your prisoner die.”
“No, I have come to bid you live,” rejoined Charles V., hastening
towards him, “You are no longer my prisoner, but my friend and brother.
From this moment you are free.”
As these gracious words were uttered, François withdrew from his sister,
and flung his arms round the Emperor's neck. On recovering from his
emotion, he said, “I thank your majesty from the bottom of my heart for
your goodness towards me. You have performed a magical cure. In giving
me freedom you have instantly restored me to health and strength.”
“I am rejoiced to hear it, my good brother,” rejoined Charles Y. “I
should never have forgiven myself if aught had befallen you, You shall
be liberated this very day--that is, as soon as we have arranged
the terms of the treaty,” he hastened to add, “That is a necessary
preliminary step, as you know.”
“Of course, sire,” rejoined the king. “We can settle the treaty now. I
am well enough to attend to it.”
And, assisted by the Emperor and Marguerite, he rose from the couch, and
seated himself near the table, on which writing materials were placed.
“You have indeed recovered in a marvellous manner, my good brother,”
remarked Charles V., smiling.
“It is all your doing, sire,” rejoined François. “But let us proceed to
business. I repeat, I am quite equal to it.”
“'Twill be best that the matter should be concluded at once, brother,”
said Charles V., seating himself opposite the king. “The treaty has
already been drawn out by the grand-chancellor, and shall be read to
you.”
“The treaty drawn out!” exclaimed François, frowning. “Then we cannot
discuss the terms.”
“If we discuss the terms it may prolong your captivity, brother,”
rejoined Charles Y.
“Agree,” whispered Marguerite, who was standing near the king.
“Well, let me hear the conditions,” said François to Gattinara, who
had unfolded a large parchment, and was preparing to-read it. “Give the
substance of the treaty, my lord. I care not for the formalities.”
“By this treaty, sire,” said Gattinara, “you will cede to his Imperial
Majesty all your pretensions to the kingdom of Naples, the duchy of
Milan, Genoa, and Asti--in a word, all your rights in Italy.”
He then paused for a moment, but as François made no observation, he
went on:
“You will also cede the duchy of Burgundy to his Imperial Majesty----”
“It should be 'restore,' rather than 'cede,'” interrupted Charles V.,
“since the duchy was the patrimony of my ancestress, Mary of Burgundy.
But proceed.”
“Your majesty will cede the duchy of Burgundy,” continued the
chancellor, “the countship of Charolois, the signories of Noyers and
of Château-Chinon, the viscounty of Auxonne, and the jurisdiction of
Saint-Laurent.”
François uttered an exclamation of impatience, but was restrained by his
sister, who grasped his hand.
“A moment's patience, brother,” remarked Charles V, “We will speak of
Burgundy anon.”
“Your majesty shall remove your protection from Henri d'Albret, who was
taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia, but who has since escaped, and
prevail upon him to renounce the title of King of Navarre.”
“Pâques Dieu! I cannot do this,” cried François.
“Let the chancellor go on, brother,” said the Emperor.
“Your majesty shall likewise remove your protection from the Duke of
Gueldres,” pursued Gattinara, “the Duke of Wurtemberg, and Robert de la
Marck.”
“By Saint Louis! I will not thus sacrifice my friends and allies!” cried
François.
“Hear him out, brother!--hear him out!” said the Emperor.
Gattinara paused for a moment, and then resumed. Aware of what was
coming, Bourbon watched the king narrowly.
“Your majesty shall restore to the Duke de Bourbon all the lands, fiefs,
and signories of which he has been deprived, and shall add to them
Provence and Dauphiné. These states shall be erected into a kingdom to
be possessed by the Duke de Bourbon, without tenure from the crown of
France.”
“Never!” exclaimed François, rising. “I will remain in thraldom all my
days rather than consent to this indignity. I agree to restore Bourbon's
possessions, and will indemnify him for all his losses, but I will not
dismember France in order to create a kingdom for him. Even if I
were disposed to yield, the laws of the State are opposed to any such
alienation, and would prevent it.”
“I will take my chance of that,” remarked Bourbon, sternly. “What has
been gained by the sword can be maintained by the sword. The condition
must be subscribed.”
“The king agrees,” said Marguerite, as François, by her persuasion, sat
down again.
At a sign front the Emperor, Gattinara went on.
“Your majesty shall re-establish the Seigneur de Pomperant, and all the
other partisans of the Duke de Bourbon, in their possessions. And you
shall release the Prince of Orange, who has been confined in the castle
of Lusignan, and deprived of his possessions for his zeal towards the
Emperor.”
“To the latter condition I unhesitatingly agree,” said François.
“Lastly,” said Gattinara, “your majesty shall pay to the King of England
five hundred thousand crowns, and to his Imperial Majesty as a ransom
two millions.”
“These are onerous conditions, sire,” said François, as the chancellor
concluded.
“They appear hard now, but you will not think them so when you are at
liberty, brother,” said the Emperor.
“Neither will you be bound by them,” whispered Marguerite. “The violence
offered releases you from all engagements.”
“His majesty must pledge his royal word to return to prison, if all the
conditions of the treaty be not fulfilled within three months,” said
Lannoy.
“How say you, brother? Will you give that pledge?” demanded Charles V.
“He will--he does!” interposed Marguerite.
“Nay, madame, let the king speak for himself,” said the Emperor.
“I give the required pledge,” said François, with evident reluctance.
“But your majesty must also give hostages for your good faith,” remarked
Bourbon.
“Hostages!” exclaimed François.
“Yes, sire, hostages--hostages the most precious to yourself and to your
people--your two elder sons. They must take your place, and remain in
captivity till all be fulfilled.”
“Sire, you do not require this?” cried François.
“If you mean fairly, brother--as I feel sure you do--where is the
hardship?” rejoined Charles V., “I must have an exchange of prisoners.”
“Assent,” whispered Marguerite. “We will soon find means to liberate
the princes.”
“Well, sire, I must perforce agree,” said François.
“One point only remains,” said the Emperor. “I would willingly have kept
it separate, but circumstances require that it should form part of the
treaty. It relates to my sister Leanor, the widowed queen of Portugal.”
“Yes, sire, and I now renew the proposal I have made to you respecting
the queen,” said François. “Do you agree to give me her hand?”
“Sire,” interposed Bourbon, haughtily, “you have already promised your
sister to me.”
“Before giving that promise I ought to have consulted her,” said
Charles.
“You would have me to understand that she declines the alliance,” said
Bourbon.
“The queen could scarce hesitate between a proscribed prince and a
powerful monarch,” said Marguerite, in a tone that stung Bourbon to the
quick.
“You mistake, madame,” he cried, sharply. “'Tis the prince who is
powerful, and the king a prisoner. However, I relinquish my claim. Your
Imperial Majesty is free to bestow the queen your sister on whomsoever
you list.”
“Then, brother, she is yours,” said the Emperor to François; “and I
may now tell you frankly that your chivalrous qualities have won her
admiration, and that she can give you her heart as well as her hand. The
alliance, I trust, will form a lasting bond of amity between us. By the
terms of the treaty you are bound to cede Burgundy to me. I am willing
that you should settle the duchy upon my sister, to revert to me in
default of issue by the marriage.”
“Sire, I am content,” said François.
“Since we are fully agreed, let the treaty be signed,” said Charles V
The document was then laid on the table, and being duly signed and
sealed by the two monarchs, was delivered to the custody of the
grand-chancellor.
The Emperor then signified his desire to be left alone with the King of
France, and the others withdrew.
“I have a few words to say to you, brother,” said Charles V., drawing
near the king. “You are now free--perfectly free. Up to this moment we
have treated together as princes, let us now deal as loyal gentlemen.
You are esteemed, and with reason, the model of chivalry. Tell me, with
the frankness of a preux chevalier, who has never broken his word that
you mean to perform the compact you have made with me.”
And he fixed a searching look upon the king as he spoke.
“Sire,” replied François, pointing to a crucifix fixed against the wall
beside them, “I swear on that cross to deal loyally with you.”
“Then if you fail, I may say you have forfeited your word?” said the
Emperor, still fastening his keen grey eyes upon him.
“You may, sire. But rest easy. Foi de gentilhomme! I shall _not_ fail.”
Perfectly satisfied by these assurances, Charles V. caused the doors of
the castle to be thrown open, and conducted his somewhile prisoner to
the royal palace, where apartments suitable to his rank were assigned
him.
A few days afterwards, François was affianced to Leanor of Portugal,
and as soon as he was able to travel, he proceeded with a strong guard,
under the charge of Lannoy and Alarcon, towards Fontarabia.
In the centre of the river Bidassoa, which divides France and Spain, a
bark was moored, and in this little vessel the exchange between the king
and his two sons took place.
François tenderly embraced his sons, and, bidding them farewell, caused
himself to be rowed to the opposite bank, exclaiming joyfully, as he
leaped ashore, “Once more, I am king.”
Mounting a swift charger, he speeded towards Bayonne, where he found the
Duchess d'Angoulême and the court awaiting him.
How he violated the conditions of the treaty of Madrid, and how he
broke his plighted faith with the Emperor, it is not the purpose of this
history to relate.
END OF THE SIXTH BOOK