marriage, disentangled the emperor from the most troublesome stipulation in the treaty of Crespy; and the French monarch, being still engaged in hostilities with England, was unable to obtain any reparation for the loss which he suffered by this unforeseen event. These hostilities, like those between Charles and Francis, terminated in nothing decisive. Equally tired of a struggle attended with no glory or advantage to either, the contending princes concluded, at Campe, near Ardies, a treaty of peace; in which it was stipulated that France should pay the arrears due by former treaties to England. But these arrears did not exceed one-third of the sums expended by Henry on his military operations; and, Francis being in no condition to discharge them, Boulogne (a chargeable pledge) was left in the hands of the English as a security for the debt. In consequence of the emperor's resolution to humble the Protestant princes, he concluded a dishonorable peace with the Porte, stipulating that his brother Ferdinand should pay tribute for that part of Hungary which he still possessed; while the sultan enjoyed the imperial and undisturbed possession of all the rest. At the same time he entered into a league with pope Paul III. for the extirpation of heresy; but in reality with a view to oppress the liberties of Germany. Here, however, his ambition met with a severe check; for, though he was successful at first, he was obliged in 1555 to conclude a peace with the Protestants on their own terms. See REFORMATION.

By the peace concluded on this occasion, the emperor lost Metz, Toul, and Verdun, which had formed the barrier of the empire on that quarter; and therefore soon after put himself at the head of an army, in order to recover these three bishoprics. In order to conceal the destination of his army, he gave out that he intended to lead it into Hungary, to second Maurice in his operations against the Infidels; and, as that pretext failed him, when he began to advance towards the Rhine, he propagated a report that he was marching first to chastise Albert of Brandenburgh, who had refused to be included in the treaty of Passau, and whose cruel exactions in that part of Germany called loudly for redress. The French, however, were not deceived by these arts. Henry immediately guessed the true object of Charles's armament, and resolved to defend his conquests with vigor. The defence of Metz, against which it was foreseen the whole weight of the war would be turned, was committed to Francis of Lorraine, duke of Guise, who possessed in an eminent degree all the qualities that render men great in military command. He repaired with joy to the dangerous station; and many of the French nobility, and even princes of the blood, eager to distinguish themselves under such a leader, entered Metz as volunteers. The city was of great extent ill, fortified, and the suburbs large. For all these defects the duke endeavoured to provide a remedy. He repaired the old fortifications with all possible expedition, laboring with his own hands; the officers imitated his example; and the soldiers, thus encouraged, cheerfully submitted to the most severe toils; he erected new works, and he levelled the

suburbs with the ground. At the same time he filled the magazines with provisions and military stores, compelled all useless persons to leave the place, and laid waste the neighbouring country; yet such were his popular talents, as well as his arts of acquiring an ascendant over the minds of men, that the citizens not only refrained from murmuring, but seconded him with no less ardor than the soldiers in all his operations-in the ruin of their estates, and in the havoc of their public and private buildings. Meanwhile the emperor continued his march towards Lorraine, at the head of 60,000 men. On his approach, Albert of Brandenburgh, whose army did not exceed 20,000, withdrew into that principality, as if he intended to join the French king; and Charles, notwithstanding the advanced season, it being towards the end of October, laid siege to Metz, contrary to the advice of the most experienced officers. The attention of both the besiegers and the besieged was turned for some time towards the motions of Albert, who still hovered in the neighbourhood, undetermined which side to take, though resolved to sell his service. Charles at last came up to his price, and he joined the imperial army. The emperor now flattered himself that nothing could resist his force; but he found himself deceived. After a siege of almost sixty days, during which he had attempted all that was thought possible for art or valor to effect, and had lost upwards of 30,000 men by the inclemency of the weather, diseases, or the sword of the enemy, he was obliged to abandon the enterprise. When the French sallied out to attack the enemy's rear, the imperial camp was filled with the sick and wounded, with the dead and the dying. All the roads by which the army retired were strewed with the same miserable objects; who, having made an effort beyond their strength to escape, and not being able to proceed, were left to perish without assistance. Happily that, and all the kind offices which their friends had not the power to perform, they received from their enemies. The duke of Guise ordered them all to be taken care of, and supplied with every necessary; he appointed physicians to attend and direct what treatment was proper for the sick and wounded, and what refreshments for the feeble; and such as recovered he sent home, under an escort of soldiers, and with money to bear their charges. By these acts of humanity, less common in that age, the duke of Guise completed that heroic character which he had justly acquired by his brave and successful defence of Metz. The emperor's misfortunes were not confined to Germany. During his residence at Villach, he had been obliged to borrow 200,000 crowns of Cosmo de Medicis, and so low was his credit that he was obliged to put Cosmo in possession of the principality of Piombino as a security for that inconsiderable sum; by which means he lost the footing he had hitherto maintained in Tuscany. Much about the same time he lost Sienna. The citizens, who had long enjoyed a republican government, rose against the Spanish garrison, which they had admitted as a check upon the tyranny of the nobility, but which they found was meant to enslave them; forgetting their do

mestic animosities, they recalled the exiled nobles; they demolished the citadel, and put themselves under the protection of France. To these unfortunate events one still more fatal had almost succeeded. The severe administration of the viceroy of Naples had filled that kingdom with murmuring and dissatisfaction. The prince of Salerno, the head of the malcontents, fled to the court of France. The French monarch, after the example of his father, applied to the grand signior; and Soliman, at that time highly incensed against the house of Austria, on account of the proceedings in Hungary, sent a powerful fleet into the Mediterranean, under the command of the corsair Dragut, an officer trained up under Barbarossa, and scarcely inferior to his master in courage, talents, or in good fortune. Dragut appeared on the coast of Calabria at the time appointed; but not being joined by the French fleet, according to concert, he returned to Constantinople, after plundering and burning several places, and filling Naples with consternation. Highly mortified by so many disasters, Charles retired into the Low Countries, breathing vengeance against France: and here the war was carried on with considerable vigor. Impatient to efface the stain which his military reputation had received before Metz, Charles laid siege to Terouane; and, the fortifications being in disrepair, that important place was carried by assault. Hesdin also was invested, and carried in the same manner. The king of France was too late in assembling his forces to afford relief to either of these places; and the emperor afterwards cautiously avoided an engagement. The imperial arms were less successful in Italy. The viceroy of Naples failed in an attempt to recover Sienna; and the French not only established themselves more firmly in Tuscany, but conquered part of the island of Corsica. Nor did the affairs of the house of Austria go on better in Hungary during the course of this year. Isabella and her son appeared once more in Transylvania, at a time when the people were ready for revolt, in order to revenge the death of Martinuzzi, whose loss they had severely felt. Some noblemen of eminence declared in favor of the young king; and the bashaw of Belgrade, by Soliman's order, espousing his cause, in opposition to Ferdinand, Castaldo, the Austrian general, was obliged to abandon Transylvania to Isabella and the Turks. To counterbalance these and other losses, the emperor, in 1554, concerted a marriage between his son Philip and Mary of England, in hopes of adding that kingdom to his other dominions. Meanwhile the war between Henry and Charles was carried on with various success in the Low Countries, and in Italy much to the disadvantage of France. The French, under the command of Strozzi, were defeated in the battle of Merciano; Sienna was reduced by Medicino, the Florentine general, after a siege of ten months; and the gallant Sienese were subjected to the Spanish yoke. Much about the same time a plot was formed by the Franciscans, but happily discovered before it could be carried into execution, to betray Metz to the imperialists. The father, quardian, and twenty other monks, received sentence of death on account of this conspiracy, but

the guardian, before the time appointed for his execution, was murdered by his incensed accomplices, whom he had seduced; and six of the youngest were pardoned. While war thus raged in Italy, and the Low Countries, Germany enjoyed such profound tranquillity as afforded the diet full leisure to confirm and perfect the plan of religious pacification agreed upon at Passau, and referred to the consideration of the next meeting of the Germanic body.

During the negociation of this treaty an event happened which astonished all Europe and confounded the reasonings of the wisest politicians. The emperor Charles V., though no more than fifty-six, an age when objects of ambition operate with full force on the mind, and are generally pursued with the greatest ardor, had for some time formed the resolution of resigning his hereditary dominions to his son Philip. He now determined to put it in execution. Various have been the opinions of historians concerning a resolution so singular and unexpected; but the most probable seem to be the disappointments which Charles had met with in his ambitious hopes, and the daily decline of his health. He had early in life been attacked with the gout; and the fits were now become so frequent and severe, that not only the vigor of his constitution was broken, but the faculties of his mind were sensibly impaired. He therefore judged it more decent to conceal his infirmities in some solitude, than to expose them any longer to the public eye; and as he was unwilling to forfeit the fame, or lose the acquisitions of his better years, by attempting to guide the reins of government when he was no longer able to hold them with steadi ness, he determined to seek, in the tranquillity of retirement, that happiness which he had in vain pursued amidst the tumults of war and the intrigues of state. In consequence of this resolution Charles, who had already ceded to his son Philip the kingdom of Naples and the duchy of Milan, assembled the states of the Low Countries at Brussels; and, seating himself for the last time in the chair of state, he explained to his subjects the reasons of his resignation, and solemnly devolved his authority upon Philip. He recounted with dignity, but without ostentation, all the great things which he had undertaken and performed since the commencement of his administration. A few weeks after he resigned to Philip the sovereignty of Spain and America; reserving nothing to himself out of all these vast possessions but an annual pension of 100,000 crowns. Charles was now impatient to embark for Spain, where he had fixed on a place of retreat; but by the advice of his physicians he put off his voyage for some months on account of the severity of the season; and, by yielding to their judgment, he had the satisfaction, before he left the Low Countries, of taking a considerable step towards a peace with France. This he ardently longed for; not only on his son's account, whose administration he wished to commence in quietness, but that he might have the glory, when quitting the world, of restoring to Europe that tranquillity which his ambition had banished out of it almost from the time that he assumed the reins of government. The great bar to such a

pacification, on the part of France, was the treaty which Henry had concluded with the pope; and the emperor's claims were too numerous to hope for adjusting them suddenly.

A truce of five years was therefore proposed by Charles; during which term, without discussing their respective pretensions, each should retain what was in his possession; and Henry, through the persuasion of the constable Montmorency, who represented the imprudence of sacrificing the true interests of his kingdom to the rash engagements that he had come under with Paul, authorised his ambassadors to sign at Vaucelles a treaty which would ensure to him, for so considerable a period, the important conquest which he had made on the German frontier, together with the greater part of the duke of Savoy's dominions. The pope, when informed of this transaction, was no less filled with terror and astonishment than rage and indignation. But he took equal care to conceal his fear and his anger. He affected to approve highly of the truce; and he offered his mediation, as the common father of Christendom, in order to bring about a definitive treaty of peace. Under this pretext he appoin ted cardinal Rebibo his nuncio to the court of Brussels, and his nephew, cardinal Caraffa, to that of Paris. The public instructions of both were the same; but Caraffa, besides these, received a private commission to spare neither entreaties, promises, nor bribes, to induce the French monarch to renounce the truce and renew his engagements with the holy see. He flattered Henry with the conquest of Naples; he gained by his address the Guises, the queen, and even the famous Diana of Poictiers, duchess of Valentinois, the king's mistress; and they easily swayed the king himself who already leaned to that side. All Montmorency's prudent remonstrances were disregarded; the nuncio (by powers from Rome) absolved Henry from his oath of truce; and that weak prince signed a new treaty with the pope; which re-kindled with fresh violence the flames of war both in Italy and the Low Countries. No sooner was Paul made acquainted with the success of this negociation than he proceeded to the most indecent extremities against Philip. He ordered the Spanish ambassador to be imprisoned; he excommunicated the Colonnas because of their attachment to the imperial house; and he considered Philip as guilty of high treason, and to have forfeited his right to the kingdom of Naples, which he was supposed to hold of the holy see, for afterward affording them a retreat in his dominions. Alarmed at a quarrel with the pope, whom he had been taught to regard with the most superstitious veneration, Philip tried every gentle method before he made use of force. He even consulted some Spanish divines on the lawfulness of taking arms against a person so sacred. They decided in his favor; and, Paul continuing inexorable, the duke of Alva, to whom the negociations as well as the war had been committed, entered the ecclesiastical state at the head of 10,000 veterans, and carried terror to the gates of Rome. The haughty pontiff, though still inflexible and undaunted in himself, was forced to give way to the fears of the cardinals, and a truce was concluded for

forty days. Mean time the duke of Guise arriving with a supply of 20,000 French troops Paul became more arrogant than ever, and banished all thoughts from his mind but those of war and revenge. The duke of Guise, however, who had precipitated his country into this war chiefly from a desire of gaining a field where he might display his own talents, was able to perform nothing in Italy worthy of his former fame. He was obliged to abandon the siege of Civitella; he could not bring the duke of Alva to a general engagement; his army perished by diseases; and the pope neglected to furnish the necessary reinforcements. He begged to be recalled; and France stood in need of his talents. Philip. though willing to have avoided a rupture, was no sooner informed that Henry had violated the truce of Vaucelles than he determined to act with such vigor as should convince Europe that his father had not erred in resigning to him the reins of government. He immediately assembled in the Low Countries a body of 50,000 men, and obtained a supply of 10,000 from England, whom he had engaged in his quarrel; and as he was not ambitious of military fame he gave the command of his army to Emanuel Philibert, duke of Savoy, one of the greatest generals of that warlike age. The duke of Savoy kept the enemy for some time in suspense with regard to his destination; at last he seemed to threaten Champagne, towards which the French drew all their troops; then turning suddenly to the right he advanced by rapid marches into Picardy and laid siege to St. Quintin. It was deemned in those times a town of considerable strength; but the fortifications had been much neglected, and the garrison did not amount to a fifth part of the number requisite for its defence; it must therefore have surrendered in a few days if admiral Coligny had not taken the gallant resolution of throwing himself into it with such a body of men as could be collected on a sudden.. This he effected in spite of the enemy, breaking through their main body. The place, however, was closely invested; and the constable Montmorency, anxious to extricate his nephew out of that perilous situation in which his zeal for the public had engaged him, as well as to save a town of such importance, rashly advanced to its relief with forces one-half inferior to those of the enemy. His army was cut in pieces, and he himself made prisoner. The cautious temper of Philip on this occasion saved France from devastation, if not ruin. The duke of Savoy proposed to overlook all inferior objects and march speedily to Paris, which, in its consternation at that moment, he could not have failed to make himself master of; but Philip, afraid of the consequences of such a bold enterprise, desired him to continue the siege of St. Quintin, to secure a safe retreat in case of any disaster. The town, long and gallantly defended by Coligny, was at last taken by storm, but not till France was in a state of defence. Philip was now sensible that he had lost an opportunity which could never be recalled of distressing his enemy, and contented himself with reducing Horn and Catelet; which petty towns, together with St. Quintin, were the sole fruits of one of the most deci

sive victories gained in the sixteenth century. The Catholic king, however, continued in high exultation on account of his success; and, as all his passions were tinged with superstition, he vowed to build a church, a monastery, and a palace, in honor of St. Laurence, on the day sacred to whose memory the battle of St. Quintin had been fought. He accordingly laid the foundation of an edifice in which all these were included, and which he continued to forward at vast expense for twenty-two years. The same principle which dictated the vow directed the building. It was so formed as to resemble a gridiron on which culinary instrument, according to the legendary tale, St. Laurence had suffered martyrdom. Such is the origin of the famous Escurial near Madrid, the royal residence of the kings of Spain.

The first account of that fatal blow which France had received at St. Quintin was carried to Rome by the courier whom Henry had sent to recal the duke of Guise. Paul remonstrated warmly against the departure of the French army; but Guise's orders were peremptory. The arrogant pontiff therefore found it necessary to accommodate his conduct to the exigency of his affairs, and to employ the mediation of the Venetians, and of Cosmo de Medici, to obtain peace. The first overtures of this nature were eagerly listened to by the Catholic king, who still doubted the justice of his cause, and considered it as his greatest misfortune to be obliged to contend with the pope. Paul agreed to renounce his league with France; and Philip stipulated on his part that the duke of Alva should repair in person to Rome, and after asking pardon of the holy father in his own name and in that of his master, for having invaded the patrimony of the church, should receive absolution from that crime. Thus Paul, through the superstitious timidity of Philip, not only finished an unpropitious war without any detriment to the apostolic see, but saw his conqueror humbled at his feet; and so excessive was the veneration of the Spaniards in that age for the papal character, that the duke of Alva, the proudest man perhaps of his time, and accustomed from his infancy to converse with princes, acknowledged that, when he approached Paul, he was so much overawed that his voice failed, and his presence of mind forsook him. But though this war, which at its commencement threatened mighty revolutions, was terminated without occasioning any alteration in those states which were its immediate object, it produced effects of considerable consequence in other parts of Italy. In order to detach Octavia Farnese, duke of Parma, from the French interest, Philip restored to him the city of Placentia and its territory, which had been seized by Charles V., and he granted to Cosmo de Medicis the investiture of Sienna, as an equivalent for the sums due to him. By these treaties, the balance of power among the Italian states was poised with more equality, and rendered less variable than it had been since it received the first violent shock from the invasion of Charles VIII., and Italy hence

forth ceased to be the theatre on which the mon

archs of Spain, France, and Germany, contended for fame and dominion. Their hostilities, ex

cited by new objects, stained other regions of Europe with blood, and made other states feel in their turn, the miseries of war. The duke of Guise, who left Rome the same day that his adversary the duke of Alva made his humiliating submission to the pope, was received in France as the guardian angel of the kingdom. He was appointed lieutenant-general in chief, with a jurisdiction almost unlimited; and, eager to justify the extraordinary confidence which the king had reposed in him, as well as to perform something suitable to the high expectations of his countrymen, he undertook in winter the siege of Calais. Having taken that place, he next invested Thionville in the duchy of Luxembourg, one of the strongest towns on the frontiers of the Netherlands; and forced it to capitulate after a siege of three weeks. But the advantages on this quarter were more than balanced by an event which happened in another part of the Netherlands. The mareschal de Termes, governor of Calais, who had penetrated into Flanders and taken Dunkirk, was totally routed near Gravelines, and taken prisoner by count Egmont. This disaster obliged the duke of Guise to relinquish all his other schemes, and hasten towards the frontiers of Picardy, that he might there oppose the progress of the enemy. The eyes of all France were now turned towards the duke of Guise, as the only general on whose arms victory always attended, and in whose conduct as well as good fortune they could confide in every danger. His strength was nearly equal to the duke of Savoy's, each commanding about 40,000 men. They encamped at a distance of a few leagues from one another; and, the French and Spanish monarchs having joined their respective armies, it was expected that, after the vicissitudes of war, a decisive battle would at last determine which of the rivals should take the ascendant for the future in the affairs of Europe. But both monarchs, as if by agreement, stood on the defensive; neither of the discovering any inclination, though each had it in his power, to rest the decision of a point of such importance on the issue of a single battle. During this state of inaction, peace began to be mentioned in each camp, and both Henry and Philip discovered an equal disposition to listen to any overture that tended to re-establish it. The private inclinations of both kings concurred with their political interests and the wishes of their people. Philip languished to return to Spain, the place of his nativity; and peace only could enable him, either with decency or safety, to quit the Nether lands. Henry was now desirous of being freed from the avocations of war, that he might have leisure to turn the whole force of his government towards suppressing the opinions of the reformers, which were spreading with such rapidity in Paris and the other great towns, that they began to grow formidable to the established church. Court intrigues conspired with these public and avowed motives to hasten the negociation, and the abbey of Cercamp was fixed on as the place of congress. While Philip and Henry were making these advances towards a treaty which restored tranquillity to Europe, Charles V., whose ambition had so long disturbed it, but who had been for some time dead to the world, ended