Chapter VI

Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor

The sixteenth century was an age of splendid monarchs, who vied with

each other in the luxury of their courts, the chivalry of their

bearing, and the extent of their possessions.

Francis I was a patron of the New Learning, the pride of France, ever

devoted to a monarch with some dash of the heroic in his composition.

He was dark and handsome, and excelled in the tournaments, where he

tried to recapture the romance of the Middle Ages by his knightly

equipment and gallant feats of arms.

Henry VIII, the King of England, was eager to spend the wealth he had

inherited on the glittering pageants which made the people forget the

tyranny of the Tudor monarchs. He was four years the senior of

Francis, but still under thirty when Charles the Fifth succeeded, in

1516, to the wide realms of the Spanish Crown.

This king was likely to eclipse the pleasure-loving rivals of France

and England, for he had vast power in Europe through inheritance of the

great possessions of his house. Castile and Aragon came to Charles

through his mother, Joanna, who was the daughter of Ferdinand and

Isabella. Naples and Sicily went with Aragon, though, as a matter of

fact, they had been appropriated in violation of a treaty. The Low

Countries were part of the dominions of Charles' grandmother, Mary of

{64} Burgundy, who had married Philip, the Archduke of Austria. When

Maximilian of Austria died in 1519, he desired that his grandson should

succeed not only to his dominions in Europe, but also to the proud

title of Holy Roman Emperor, which was not hereditary. With the

treasures of the New World at his disposal, through the discoveries of

Christopher Columbus, Charles V had little doubt that he could obtain

anything he coveted.

It was soon evident that Charles' claim to the Empire would be disputed

by Francis I, who declared, "An he spent three millions of gold he

would be Emperor." The French King had a fine army, and money enough

to bribe the German princes, in whose hands the power of "electing"

lay. Francis' ambassadors travelled from one to another with a train

of horses, heavily laden with sumptuous offerings, but these found it

quite impossible to bribe Frederick the Wise of Saxony.

Charles did not scruple to use bribery, and he hoped to win Henry of

England by flattery and by appealing to him as a kinsman; for his aunt,

Catherine of Aragon, was Henry's Queen at that time. The Tudor King

had boldly taken for his motto, "Whom I defend is master," but he had

secret designs on the Imperial throne himself, and thought either

Francis I or Charles V would become far too powerful in Europe if the

German electors appointed one of them.

The Pope entered into the struggle because he knew that Charles of

Spain would be likely to destroy the peace of Italy by demanding the

Duchy of Milan, which was then under French rule. He gave secret

advice, therefore, to the German electors to choose one of their own

number, and induced them to offer the Imperial rank to Frederick the

Wise of Saxony. {65} This prince did not feel strong enough to beat

off the attacks of Selim, the ruler of the Ottoman Empire, then

threatening the land of Hungary. He refused to become Emperor and

suggested that the natural resistance to the East should come from

Austria.

Charles, undoubtedly, had Spanish gold that would assist him in this

struggle. In 1519 he was invested with the imperial crown and began to

dream of further conquests. A quarrel with France followed, both sides

having grievances that made friendship impossible at that period.

Charles had offended Francis I by promising to aid d'Albert of Navarre

to regain his kingdom. He also wished to claim the Duchy of Milan as

the Pope had predicted, and was indignant that Burgundy, which had been

filched from his grandmother by Louis XI, had never been restored to

his family.

Francis renewed an ancient struggle in reclaiming Naples. He was

determined not to yield to imperial pride, and sought every means of

conciliating Henry VIII of England, who seemed eager to assert himself

in Europe. The two monarchs met at the Field of the Cloth of Gold in

1513 and made a great display of friendship. They were both skilled

horsemen and showed to advantage in a tournament, having youth and some

pretensions to manly beauty in their favour. The meeting between them

was costly and did not result as Francis had anticipated, since Charles

V had been recently winning a new ally in the person of Cardinal

Wolsey, the chief adviser of the young King of England.

Wolsey was ambitious and longed for the supreme honour of the Catholic

Church. He believed that he might possibly attain this through the

nephew of {66} Catherine of Aragon. He commended Charles to his

master, and in the end gained for him an Austrian alliance. There was

even some talk of a marriage between the Emperor and the little

Princess Mary.

A treaty with the Pope made Charles V more sanguine of success than

ever. Leo X belonged to the family of the Medici and hoped to restore

the ancient prestige of that house. He was overjoyed to receive Parma

and Placentia as a result of his friendship with the ambitious Emperor,

and now agreed to the expulsion of the French from Milan on condition

that Naples paid a higher tribute to the Papal See.

These arrangements were concluded without reference to Chièvres, the

Flemish councillor, whose influence with Charles had once been

paramount. Henceforward, the Emperor ruled his scattered empire,

relying only upon his own strength and capability. He naturally met

with disaffection among his subjects, for the Spaniards were jealous of

his preference for the Netherlands, where he had been educated, and the

people of Germany resented his long sojourn in Spain, thinking that

they were thereby neglected. It would have been impossible for Charles

to have led a more active life or to have striven more courageously to

retain his hold over far distant countries. He was constantly

travelling to the different parts of his empire, and made eleven

sea-voyages during his reign--an admirable record in days when voyages

were comparatively dangerous.

Charles changed his motto from _Nondum_ to _Plus ultra_ as he proceeded

to send fleets across the ocean that the banner of Castile might float

proudly on the distant shores of the Pacific. But the war with France

was the real interest of the Emperor's life and he pursued it

vigorously, obtaining supplies from the Spanish {67} _Cortes_ or

legislative authority of Spain. He gained the sympathy of that nation

during his residence at Madrid from 1522-9 and pacified the rebellious

spirit of the _Communes_ which administered local affairs. His

marriage with Isabella of Portugal proved, too, that he would maintain

the traditions of the Spanish monarchy.

In 1521 the French were driven from the Duchy of Milan and in 1522 they

were compelled to retire from Italy. In the following year the

Constable of Bourbon deserted Francis to espouse the Emperor's cause,

because he had received many insults from court favourites. He had

been removed from the government of Milan, and was fond of quoting the

words of an old Gascon knight first spoken in the reign of Charles VII:

"Not three kingdoms like yours could make me forsake you, but one

insult might."

Bourbon was rebuked for his faithlessness to his King at the battle of

La Biagrasse where Bayard, that perfect knight, _sans peur et sans

reproche_, fell with so many other French nobles. The Constable had

compassion on the wounded man as he lay at the foot of a tree with his

face still turned to the enemy. "Sir, you need have no pity for me,"

the knight answered bravely, "for I die an honest man; but I have pity

on you, seeing you serve against your prince, your country, and your

oath."

Bourbon may have blushed at the rebuke, but he took the field gallantly

at Pavia on behalf of the Emperor. Francis I had invaded Italy and

occupied Milan, but he was not quick to follow up his success and met

defeat at the hands of his vassal on February 24th, 1525, which was

Charles V's twenty-fifth birthday. The flower of France fell on the

battle-field, while the King himself {68} was taken prisoner. He would

not give up his sword to the traitor Bourbon, but continued to fight on

foot after his horse had been shot under him. He proved that he was as

punctilious a knight as Bayard, and wrote to his mother on the evening

of this battle, "All is lost but honour."

The Emperor's army now had both France and Italy at their mercy.

Bourbon decided to march on Rome, to the joy of his needy, avaricious

soldiers. He took the ancient capital where the riches of centuries

had accumulated; both Spaniards and Germans rioted on its treasures

without restraint. They spared neither church nor palace, but defiled

the most sacred places. The very ring was removed from the hand of

Pope Julius as he lay within his tomb. Clement VII, the reigning Pope,

was too feeble and vacillating to save himself, though it would have

been quite possible. He was made a prisoner of war, for political

motives inspired the Emperor to demand a heavy ransom.

The Ladies' Peace concluded the long war between Charles V and Francis

I. It was so called because it was arranged through Louise, the French

King's mother, and Margaret, the aunt who had taken charge of the

Emperor in his childhood. These two ladies occupied adjoining houses

in the town of Cambrai, and held consultations at any hour in the

narrow passage between the two dwellings. The peace, finally drawn up

in August 1529, was very shameful to Francis I, since he agreed to

desert all his partisans in Italy and the Netherlands. He had

purchased his own freedom by the treaty of Madrid in 1526.

In 1530, the Emperor, who had made a separate treaty with the Italian

states, received the crown of Lombardy and crown of the Holy Roman

Empire from {69} the hands of the Pope at Bologna. On this occasion he

was invested with a mantle studded with jewels and some ancient

sandals. Ill-health and increasing melancholy clouded his delight in

these honours. His aquiline features and dark colouring had formerly

given him some claim to beauty, but now the heavy "Hapsburg" jaw began

to show the settled obstinacy of a narrow nature. The iron crown of

Italy weighed on him heavily, for he was stricken by remorse that he

had disregarded the entreaties of the Pope for the rescue of the

Knights of St John, whose settlement of Rhodes had been attacked by the

Turkish infidels. He gave them Malta in order that he might appease

his conscience. Religion claimed much of his attention after the long

conflict with France was ended.

Heresy was spreading in Germany, where Luther gained a vast number of

adherents. Charles issued an edict against the monk, but there was

national resistance for him to face as a consequence. In 1530 he

renewed the Edict of Worms and was opposed by a League of Protestant

princes, who applied for help from England, France, and Denmark against

the oppressive Emperor. He would have set himself to crush them if his

dominions had not been menaced by Soliman the Magnificent, a Turkish

Sultan with an immense army. He was obliged to secure the co-operation

of the Protestants against the Turks that he might drive the latter

from his eastern frontier.

Italians, Flemings, Hungarians, Bohemians, and Burgundians fought side

by side with the German troops and drove the invader back to his own

territory. When this danger was averted, France suddenly attacked

Savoy, and the Emperor found that he must postpone his struggle with

the Lutherans. A joint invasion of {70} France by Charles V and Henry

VIII of England forced Francis to conclude humiliating peace at Crespy

1544. Three years later the death of the French King left his

adversary free to crush the religious liberty of his German subjects.

The Emperor, who had declared himself on the side of the Papacy in

1521, now united with the Pope and Charles' brother Ferdinand, who had

been given the government of all the Austrian lands. All three were

determined to compel Germany to return to the old faith and the old

subjection to the Empire. Their resolve seemed to be fulfilled when

Maurice, Duke of Saxony, betrayed the Protestant cause, the allies of

the German princes proved faithless, and the Elector of Saxony and the

Landgrave of Hesse were taken prisoners at Muhlberg in April 1547.

The star of Austria was still in the ascendant, and Charles V could

still quote his favourite phrase, "Myself and the lucky moment." He

put Maurice in the place of the venerable Elector of Saxony, who had

refused long ago to take a bribe, and let the Landgrave of Hesse lie in

prison. He imagined that he had Germany at his feet, and exulted over

the defenders of her freedom. There had been a faint hope in their

hearts once that the Emperor would champion Luther's cause from

political interest, but he did not need a weapon against the Pope since

the Holy See was entirely subservient to his wishes. Bigotry,

inherited from Spanish ancestors, showed itself in the Emperor now. In

Spain and the Netherlands he used the terrible Inquisition to stamp out

heresy. The Grand Inquisitors, who charged themselves with the

religious welfare of these countries, claimed control over lay and

clerical subjects in the name of their ruler.

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Maurice was unscrupulous and intrigued with Henry II of France against

the Emperor, who professed himself the Protector of the Princes of the

Empire. A formidable army was raised, which took Charles at a

disadvantage and drove him from Germany. The Peace of Augsburg, 1555,

formally established Protestantism over a great part of the empire.

The Emperor felt uneasily that the star of the House of Austria was

setting. After his failure to crush the heretics, he was troubled by

ill-health and the gloomy spirit which he inherited from his mother

Joanna. He was weary of travelling from one part of his dominions to

another, and knew that he could never win more fame and riches than he

had enjoyed. His son Philip was old enough to reign in his stead if he

decided to cede the sovereignty. The old Roman Catholic faith drew him

apart from the noise and strife of the world by its promise of rest and

all the solaces of retirement.

In 1555 the Emperor held the solemn ceremony of abdication at Brussels,

for he paid especial honour to his subjects of the Netherlands. He sat

in a chair of state surrounded by a splendid retinue and recounted the

famous deeds of his administration with a natural pride, dwelling on

the hardships of constant journeying because he had been unwilling to

trust the affairs of government to any other. Turning to Philip he

bade him hold the laws of his country sacred and to maintain the

Catholic faith in all its purity. As he spoke, all his hearers melted

into tears, for the people of the Netherlands owed much gratitude to

their ruler. And the ceremony which attended the transference of the

Spanish crown to Philip was no less moving. Charles had chosen the

monastery of San Yuste as his last dwelling on account of its warm, dry

climate. After {72} a tender farewell to his family he set out there

in some state, many attendants going into retreat with him. Yuste was

a pleasant peaceful village near the Spanish city of Plasencia. Deep

silence brooded over it, and was only broken by the bells of the

convent the Emperor was entering. He found that a building had been

erected for his "palace" in a garden planted with orange trees and

myrtles. This was sumptuously furnished according to the monks' ideas,

for Charles did not intend to adopt the simplicity of these brothers of

St Jerome. Velvet canopies, rich tapestries, and Turkey carpets had

been brought for the rooms which were prepared for a royal inmate. The

walls of the Emperor's bedchamber were hung in black in token of his

deep mourning for his mother, but many pictures from the brush of

Titian were hung in that apartment. As Charles lay in bed he could see

the famous "Gloria," which represented the emperor and empress of a

bygone age in the midst of a throng of angels. He could also join in

the chants of the monks without rising, if he were suffering from gout,

for a window opened directly from his room into the chapel of the

monastery. Sixty attendants were still in the service of the recluse,

and those in the culinary office found it hard to satisfy the appetite

of a monarch who, if he had given up his throne, had not by any means

renounced the pleasures of the table.

A Keeper of the Wardrobe had been brought to Yuste, although Charles

was plain in his attire and had somewhat disdained the personal vanity

of his great rivals. He was parsimonious in such matters and hated to

see good clothes spoilt, as he showed when he removed a new velvet cap

in a sudden storm and sent to his palace for an old one! He observed

{73} fast-days, though he did not dine with the monks, and he lived the

regular life of the monastery. The monks grew restive under the

constant supervision which he exercised, and one of them is said to

have remonstrated with the royal inmate, saying, "Cannot you be

contented with having so long turned the world upside down, without

coming here to disturb the quiet of a convent?"

Charles amused many hours of leisure by mechanical employments in which

he was assisted by one Torriano, who constructed a sundial in the

convent-garden. He had a great fancy for clocks, and had a number of

these in his royal apartments. The special triumphs of Torriano were

some tin soldiers, so constructed that they could go through military

exercises, and little wooden birds which flew in and out of the window

and excited the admiring wonder of the monks walking in the convent

garden.

Many visitors were received by the Emperor in his retirement. He still

took an interest in the events of Europe, and received with the deepest

sorrow the news that Calais had been lost by Philip's English wife. He

was always ready to give his successor advice, and became more and more

intolerant in religious questions. "Tell the Grand Inquisitor from

me," he wrote, "to be at his post and lay the axe to the root of the

tree before it spreads further. I rely on your zeal for bringing the

guilty to punishment and for having them punished without favour to

anyone, with all the severity which their crimes demand." After this

impressive exhortation to Philip, he added a codicil to his will,

conjuring him earnestly to bring to justice every heretic in his

dominions.

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Heroes of Modern Europe · 第 6 / 20 章