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of the Spanish garrison in the Goletta. These points being settled, and 20,000 Christian slaves freed from bondage either by arms or by treaty, Charles returned to Europe, where his presence was become necessary; while Barbarossa, who had retired to Bona, recovered new strength, and again became the tyrant of the ocean.

The king of France took advantage of the emperor's absence to revive his pretensions in Italy. The treaty of Cambray had covered up, but not extinguished the flames of discord. Francis, who waited only for a favorable opportunity of recovering the territories and reputation which he had lost, continued to negociate against his rival with different courts. But all his negociations were disconcerted by unforeseen accidents. The death of Clement VII. (whom he had gained by marrying his son the duke of Orleans, afterwards Henry II., to Catharine of Medicis, the niece of that pontiff), deprived him of all the support which he hoped to receive from the court of Rome. The king of England, occupied with domestic cares and projects, declined engaging in the affairs of the continent; and the Protestant princes, associated by the league of Smalkald, to whom Francis had also applied, and who seemed disposed at first to listen to him, filled with indignation and resentment at the cruelty with which some of their reformed brethren had been treated in France, refused to have any connexion with the enemy of their religion. Francis was neither cruel nor bigoted; he was too indolent to concern himself about religious disputes; but his principles becoming suspected, at a time when the emperor was gaining immortal glory by his expeditions against the infidels, he found it necessary to vindicate himself by some extraordinary demonstration of reverence for the established faith. The indiscreet zeal of some Protestant converts furnished him with the occasion. They had affixed to the gates of the Louvre and other public places papers containing indecent reflections on the rites of the Romish church. Six of the persons concerned in this rash action were seized; and the king, pretending to be struck with horror at their blasphemies, appointed a solemn procession, to avert the wrath of heaven. The holy sacrament was carried through the city of Paris in great pomp: Francis walked uncovered before it, bearing a torch in his hand; the princes of the blood supported the canopy over it; the nobles walked behind. In presence of this numerous assembly, the king declared, that if one of his hands were infected with heresy, he would cut it off with the other; and I would sacrifice,' added he, even my own children, if found guilty of that crime.' As an awful proof of his sincerity, the six unhappy persons who had been seized were publicly burnt before the procession was finished, and in the most cruel manner. They were fixed upon a machine which descended into the flames and retired alternately, until they expired. No wonder that the Protestant princes were incensed at such barbarity! But Francis, though unsupported by an ally, commanded his army to advance towards the frontiers of Italy, under pretence of chastising the duke of Milan for

a breach of the law of nations, in putting to death his ambassador. The operations of war, however, soon took a new direction. Instead of marching directly to the Milanese, Francis commenced hostilities against the duke of Savoy, with whom he had cause to be dissatisfied, and on whom he had some claims; and, before the end of the campaign, that feeble prince saw himself stripped of all his dominions, except the province of Piedmont. To complete his misfortunes, the city of Geneva, the sovereignty of which he claimed, and where the reformed opinions had already got footing, threw off his yoke; and its revolt drew along with it the loss of the adjacent territory. Geneva was then an imperial city, and ever since remained free, till, in the French revolution, it was forced to become a part of the French republic. In this extremity the duke of Savoy saw no resource but in the emperor's protection; and, as his misfortunes were chiefly occasioned by his attachment to the imperial interest, he had a title to immediate assistance. But Charles, who was just returned from his African expedition, was not able to lend him the necessary support. His treasury was entirely drained, and he was obliged to disband his army till he could raise new supplies. Mean time the death of Sforza duke of Milan entirely changed the nature of the war, and afforded the emperor full leisure to prepare for action. The French monarch's pretext for taking up arms was at once cut off: but, as the duke died without issue, all Francis's rights to the duchy of Milan, which he had yielded only to Sforza and his descendants, returned to him in full force. He instantly renewed his claim to it; and, if he had ordered his army immediately to advance, he might have made himself master of it. But he unfortunately wasted his time in fruitless negociations, while his more politic rival took possession of the duchy as a vacant fief of the empire; and, though Charles seemed still to admit the equity of Francis's claim, he delayed granting the investiture under various pretences, and was secretly taking every possible measure to prevent him from regaining a footing in Italy. During the time gained in this manner Charles had recruited his finances, and of course his armies; and, finding himself in a condition for war, he at last threw off the mask under which he had so long concealed his designs from the court of France. Entering Rome with great pomp, he pronounced before the pope and cardinals, assembled in full consistory, a violent invective against Francis, by way of reply to his propositions concerning the investiture of Milan. Yet Francis, by an unaccountable fatality, continued to negociate, as if it had been still possible to terminate their differences in an amicable manner; and Charles, finding him so eager to run into the snare, favored the deception, and, by seeming to listen to his proposals, gained yet more time for the execution of his ambitious projects. If misfortunes had rendered Francis too diffident, success had made Charles too sanguine. He presumed on nothing less than the subversion of the French monarch; Day, he considered it as an infallible event. Having chased the forces of his rival out of Piedmont and

Savoy, he pushed forward at the head of 50,000 men, contrary to the advice of his most experienced ministers and generals, to invade the southern provinces of France; while other two armies were ordered to enter it, the one on the side of Picardy, the other on the side of Champagne. He thought it impossible that Francis could resist so many unexpected attacks on such different quarters; but he found himself mistaken. The French monarch fixed upon the most effectual plan for defeating the invasion of a powerful enemy; and he prudently persevered in following it, though contrary to his own natural temper, and to the genius of his people. He deter mined to remain altogether upon the defensive, and to deprive the enemy of subsistence by laying waste the country before him. The execution of this plan was committed to the mareschal Montmorency its author, a man happily fitted for such a trust by the inflexible severity of his disposition. He made choice of a strong camp, under the walls of Avignon, at the confluence of the Rhone and Durance, where he assembled a considerable army; while the king, with another body of troops, encamped at Valence, higher up the Rhone. Marseilles and Arles were the only towns he thought it necessary to defend; and each of these he furnished with a numerous garrison of his best troops. The inhabitants of the other towns were compelled to abandon their habitations; the fortifications of such places as might have afforded shelter to the enemy were thrown down; corn, forage, and provisions of every kind, were carried off or destroyed; the mills and ovens were ruined, and the wells filled up or rendered useless. This devastation extended from the Alps to Marseilles, and from the sea to the confines of Dauphiny; so that the emperor when he arrived with the van of his army on the confines of Provence, instead of that rich and populous country which he expected to enter, beheld nothing but one vast and desert solitude. He did not, however, despair of success, though he saw that he should have many aifficulties to encounter; and, as an encouragement to his officers, he made them liberal promises of lands and honors in France. But all the land which any of them obtained was a grave, and their master lost much honor by this rash and presumptuous enterprize. After unsuccessfully investing Marseilles and Arles, after attempting in vain to draw Montmorency from his camp at Avignon, and not daring to attack it, Charles having spent two inglorious months in Provence, and lost one-half of his troops by disease or by famine, was under the necessity of ordering a retreat; and, though he was some time in motion before the enemy suspected his intention, it was conducted with so much precipitation and disorder as to deserve the name of a flight, since the light troops of France turned it into a perfect rout. The invasion of Picardy was not more successful; the imperial forces were obliged to retire without effecting any conquest of importance.

Charles had no sooner conducted the shattered remains of his army to the frontiers of Milan, than he set out for Genoa; and, unwilling to expose himself to the scorn of the Italians after

such a reverse of fortune, he embarked directly for Spain. Meanwhile Francis gave himself up to that vain resentment which had formerly disgraced the prosperity of his rival. They had frequently, in the course of their quarrels, given each other the lie, and mutual challenges had been sent; which, though productive of no serious consequences between the parties, had a powerful tendency to encourage the pernicious practice of duelling. Charles, in his invective pronounced at Rome, had publicly accused Francis of perfidy and breach of faith; Francis now exceeded Charles in the indecency of his accusations. The Dauphin dying suddenly, his death was imputed to poison; Montecuculi his cup-bearer was put to the rack; and that unhappy nobleman, in the agonies of torture, accused the emperor's generals, Gonzaga and de Leyva, of instigating him to the detestable act. The emperor himself was suspected; nay, this extorted confession, and some obscure hints, were considered as incontestable proofs of his guilt: though it was evident to all mankind that neither Charles nor his generals could have any inducement to perpetrate such a crime, as Francis was still in the vigor of life himself, and had two sons besides the dauphin, grown up to a good age. But the incensed monarch's resentment did not stop here. Francis was not satisfied with endeavouring to blacken the character of his rival by an ambiguous testimony which led to the most injurious suspicions, and upon which the most cruel constructions had been put; he was willing to add rebellion to murder. For this purpose he went to the parliament of Paris; where, being seated with the usual solemnities, the advocate-general appeared, and accused Charles of Austria (so he affected to call the emperor) of having violated the treaty of Cambray, by which he was freed from the homage due to the crown of France for the counties of Artois and Flanders; adding, that this treaty being now void, he was still to be considered as a vassal of France, and consequently had been guilty of rebellion in taking arms against his sovereign. The charge was sustained, and Charles was summoned to appear before the parliament of Paris at a day fixed. The term expired; and, no person appearing in the emperor's name, the parliament gave judgment, that Charles of Austria had forfeited, by rebellion and contumacy, the counties of Flanders and Artois, and declared these fiefs reunited to the crown of France. Francis, soon after this vain display of animosity, marched into the Low Countries, as if he had intended to execute the sentence pronounced by his parliament; but a suspension of arms took place, through the interposition of the queens of France and Hungary, before any thing of consequence was effected; and this cessation of hostilities was followed by a truce, concluded at Nice, through the mediation of the reigning pontiff, Paul III. of the family of Farnese, a man of a venerable character and pacific disposition. Each of these rival princes had strong reasons to incline them to a peace. The finances of both were exhausted; and the emperor, the most powerful of the two, was deeply impressed with the dread of the Turkish`arms, which

Francis had drawn upon him by a league with Soliman. In consequence of this league, Barbarossa with a great fleet appeared on the coast of Naples; filled that kingdom with consternation; landed without resistance near Taranto; obliged Castro, a place of some strength, to surrender; plundered the adjacent country; and was taking measures for securing and extending his conquests, when the unexpected arrival of Doria, the famous Genoese admiral, together with the pope's galleys and a squadron of the Venetian fleet, made it prudent for him to retire. The sultan's forces also invaded Hungary, where Mahomet, the Turkish general, after gaining several inferior advantages, defeated the Germans in a great battle near Essek, on the Drave. Happily for Charles and Europe it was not in Francis's power, at this juncture, either to join the Turks or assemble an army strong enough to penetrate into the Milanese. The emperor, however, was sensible that he could not long resist the efforts of two such powerful confederates, nor expect that the same fortunate circumstances would concur a second time in his favor; he therefore thought it necessary, both for his safety and reputation, to give his consent to a truce: and Francis chose rather to run the risk of disobliging his new ally, the sultan, than to draw on his head the indignation, and perhaps the arms, of all Christendom, by obstinately obstructing the re-establishment of tranquillity, and contributing to the aggrandisement of the infidels. These considerations inclined the contending monarchs to listen to the arguments of the holy father; but he found it impossible to bring about a final accommodation between them, each inflexibly persisting in asserting his own claims. Nor could he prevail on them to see one another, though both came to the place of rendezvous; so great were the remains of distrust and rancor, or such the difficulty of adjusting the ceremonial! Yet, improbable as it may seem, a few days after signing the truce, the emperor, in his passage to Barcelona, being driven on the coast of Provence, Francis invited him to come ashore, frankly visited him on board his galley, and was received and entertained with the warmest demonstrations of esteem and affection. Charles, with an equal degree of confidence, paid the king next day a. visit at Aigues-mortes; where these two hostile rivals and vindictive enemies, who had accused each other of every kind of baseness, conversing together with all the cordiality of brothers, seemed to vie with each other in expressions of respect and friendship.

Besides the glory of having restored tranquillity to Europe, the pope gained a point of much consequence to his family. He obtained, for his grandson, Margaret of Austria, the emperor's natural daughter, formerly wife of Alexander de Medicis, whom Charles had raised to the supreme power in Florence. Lorenzo de Medicis, the kinsman and intimate companion of Alexander, had assassinated him by one of the blackest treasons recorded in history. Under pretence of having secured him an assignation with a lady of the highest rank and great beauty, he drew him into a secret apartment of his house, and there stabbed him as he lay carelessly on a couch, ex

pecting the embrace of the lovely fair, whom be had often solicited in vain. Lorenzo, however, did not reap the fruits of his crime; for though some of his countrymen extolled him as a third Brutus, and endeavoured to seize this occasion for recovering their liberties, the government of Florence passed into the hands of Cosmo II. another kinsman of Alexander. Cosmo was desirous of marrying the widow of his, predecessor; but the emperor chose rather to oblige the pope, by bestowing his daughter upon Octavio Farnese, son of the duke of Parma. Charles had soon farther cause to be sensible of his obligations to the holy father for bringing about the treaty of Nice. His troops every where mutinied for want of pay, and the ability of his generals only could have prevented a total revolt. He had depended, as his chief resource for discharging the arrears due to his soldiers, upon the subsidies which he expected from his Castilian subjects. For this purpose he assembled the cortes of Castile at Toledo; and, having represented to them the great expense of his military operations, he proposed to levy such supplies as the exigency of affairs demanded, by a general excise on commodities; but the Spaniards, who already felt themselves oppressed by a load of taxes unknown to their ancestors, and who had often complained that their country was drained of its wealth and inhabitants, to prosecute quarrels in which they had no interest, determined not to add voluntarily to their own burdens. The nobles, in particular, inveighed with great vehemence against the impo sition proposed, as an encroachment on the valuable and distinguishing privilege of their order, that of being exempted from the payment of any tax. After employing arguments and promises in vain, Charles dismissed the assembly with indignation; and from that period neither the nobles nor the prelates have been called to the Cortes, on pretence that such as pay no part of the public taxes should not claim a vote in laying them on. These assemblies have since consisted merely of the procurators or representatives of eighteen cities, two from each; in all thirty-six members, who are absolutely at the devotion of the crown. The citizens of Ghent, still more bold, broke out not long after into open rebellion against the emperor's government, on account of a tax which they judged contrary to their ancient privileges, and a decision of the council of Mechlin in favor of the imperial authority. Enraged at an unjust imposition, and rendered desperate on seeing their rights betrayed by that very court which was bound to protect them, they flew to arms, seized several of the emperor's officers, and drove such of the nobility as resided among them out of the city. Sensible, however, of their inability to support what their zeal had prompted them to undertake, and desirous of securing a protector against the formidable forces with which they might expect soon to be attacked, they offered to acknowledge the king of France as their sovereign, to put him into immediate possession of their city, and to assist him in recovering those provinces in the Netherlands which had anciently belonged to his crown. True policy should have directed Francis to comply

with this proposal. The counties of Flanders and Artois were more valuable than the duchy of Milan, for which he had so long contended; and their situation in regard to France made it more easy to conquer or to defend them. But Francis over-rated the Milanese. He had lived in friendship with the emperor ever since their interview at Aigues-mortes, and Charles had promised him the investiture of that duchy. Forgetting, therefore, all his past injuries, and the deceitful promises by which he had been so often duped, the credulous, generous Francis, not only rejected the propositions of the citizens of Ghent, but communicated to the emperor his whole negociation with the malcontents. Judging of Charles's heart by his own, Francis hoped by this seemingly disinterested proceeding to obtain at once the investiture of Milan; and the emperor, well acquainted with the weakness of his rival, flattered him in this apprehension, for his own selfish purposes. His presence being necessary in the Netherlands, he demanded a passage through France. It was immediately granted him; and Charles, to whom every moment was precious, set out, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his council and the fears of his Spanish subjects, with a small but splendid train of 100 persons. He was met on the frontiers of France by the dauphin and the duke of Orleans, who offered to go into Spain, and remain there as hostages, till he should reach his own dominions; but Charles replied that the king's honor was sufficient for his safety, and prosecuted his journey without any other security. The king entertained him with the utmost magnificence at Paris, and the two young princes did not take leave of him till he entered the Low Countries; yet he still found means to evade his promise, and Francis continued to believe him sincere. The citizens of Ghent, alarmed at the approach of the emperor, who was joined by three armies, sent ambassadors to implore his mercy, and offered to throw open their gates. Charles only condescended to reply, That he would appear among them as a sovereign and a judge, with the sceptre and the sword.' He accordingly entered the place of his nativity on the anniversary of his birth! and, instead of that lenity which might have been expected, exhibited an awful example of his severity. Twenty-six of the principal citizens were put to death; a greater number were banished; the city was declared to have forfeited its privileges; a new system of laws and political administration was prescribed; and a large fine was imposed on the inhabitants, to defray the expense of erecting a citadel, together with an annual tax for the support of a garrison. They were not only despoiled of their ancient immunities, but made to pay, like conquered people, for the means of perpetuating their own slavery. We need not wonder that the descendants of these ill-used people should have been the readiest and most zealous of all the German democrates in joining the French, in the last war, and throwing off the yoke of Austria. They could have hardly been worse used by Buonaparte. Having thus reestablished his authority in the Low Countries, and being now under no necessity of continuing VOL. XX.

that scene of falsehood and dissimulation with which he had amused the French monarch, Charles began gradually to throw aside the veil under which he had concealed his intentions with respect to the Milanese, and at last peremptorily refused to give up a territory of such value, or voluntarily to make such a liberal addition to the strength of an enemy by diminishing his own power. He even denied that he had ever made any promise which could bind him to an action so foolish, and so contrary to his own interest. This transaction exposed the king of France to as much scorn as it did the emperor to censure. The credulous simplicity of Francis seemed to merit no other return, after experiencing so often the duplicity and artifices of his rival. He remonstrated, however, and exclaimed as if this had been the first circumstance in which the emperor had deceived him. The insult offered to his understanding affected him even more sensibly than the injury done to his interest; and he discovered such resentment as made it obvious that he would seize on the first opportunity of revenge, and that a new war would soon desolate the European continent. Meanwhile Charles was obliged to turn his attention towards the affairs of Germany. The Protestants, having in vain demanded a general council, pressed him earnestly to appoint a conference between a select number of divines of each party, to examine the points in dispute. For this purpose a diet was assembled at Ratisbon; and such a conference, notwithstanding the opposition of the pope, was held with great solemnity in the presence of the emperor. But the divines chosen to manage the controversy, though men of learning and moderation, were only able to settle a few speculative opinions, all points relative to worship and jurisdiction serving to inflame the minds of the disputants. Charles, therefore, finding his endeavours to bring about an accommodation ineffectual, and being impatient to close the diet, prevailed on a majority of the members to approve of the following edict of recess; viz. that the articles concerning which the divines had agreed should be held as points decided that those about which they had differed should be referred to the determination of a general council, or, if that could not be obtained, to a national synod; and, should it prove impracticable also to assemble a synod of Germany, that a general diet of the empire should be called within eighteen months, to give final judgment on the whole controversy: that, in the mean time, no innovations should be attempted, nor any endeavours employed to gain proselytes. This diet gave great offence to the pope. The bare mention of allowing a diet, composed chiefly of laymen, to pass judgment in regard to articles of faith, appeared to him no less criminal and profane than the worst of those heresies which the emperor seemed so zealous to suppress. The Protestants also were dissatisfied with it as it considerably abridged the liberty which they at that time enjoyed. They murmured loudly against it; and Charles, unwilling to leave any seeds of discontent in the empire, granted them a private declaration, exempting them from what

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ever they thought injurious or oppressive in the recess, and ascertaining to them the full possession of all their former privileges.

The situation of the emperor's affairs at this juncture made these extraordinary concessions necessary. He foresaw a rupture with France to be unavoidable, and he was alarmed at the rapid progress of the Turks in Hungary. A great revolution had happened in that kingdom. John Zapol Scopus, by the assistance of Soliman, had wrested from the king of the Romans a considerable part of the country. John died, and left an infant son. Ferdinand attempted to take advantage of the minority, in order to repossess himself of the whole kingdom; but his ambition was disappointed by the activity and address of George Martinuzzi, bishop of Waradin, who shared the regency with the queen. Sensible that he was unable to oppose the king of the Romans in the field, Martinuzzi satisfied himself with holding out the fortified towns, all of which he provided with every thing necessary for defence; and at the same time he sent ambassadors to Soliman, beseeching him to extend towards the son that imperial protection which had so generously maintained the father on his throne. Ferdinand used his utmost endeavours to thwart this negociation, and even meanly offered to hold the Hungarian crown on the same ignominious condition by which John had held it, that of paying tribute to the Porte. But the sultan saw such advantages from espousing the interest of the young king, that he instantly marched into Hungary; and the Germans, having formed the siege of Buda, were defeated with great slaughter before that city. Soliman, however, instead of becoming the protector of the infant sovereign whom he had relieved, made use of this success to extend his own dominions; he sent the queen and her son into Transylvania, which province he allotted them, and added Hungary to the Ottoman empire. Happily for the Protestants, Charles received intelligence of this revolution soon after the diet at Ratisbon; and, by the concessions which he made them, he obtained such liberal supplies, both of men and money, as left him under little anxiety about the security of Germany. He therefore hastened to join his fleet and army in Italy, in order to carry into execution a great and favorite enterprise which he had concerted against Algiers; though it would certainly have been more consistent with his diguity to have conducted the whole force of the empire against Soliman, the common enemy of Christendom, who was ready to enter his Austrian dominions. But many reasons induced Charles to prefer the African expedition; he wanted strength, or at least money, to combat the Turks in so distant a country as Hungary; and the glory which he had formerly acquired in Barbary led him to hope for the like success, while the cries of his Spanish subjects roused him to take vengeance on their ravagers. The loss which the emperor suffered in this calamitous expedition encouraged the king of France to begin hostilities, on which he had been for some time resolved; and an action dishonorable to civil society furnished him with too good a pretext for taking arms. The marquis del Guasto, governor of the Milanese,

having got intelligence of the motions and destination of two ambassadors, Rincon and Fergosa, whom Francis had despatched, the one to the Ottoman Porte, the other to the republic of Venice; knowing how much his master wished to discover the intentions of the French monarch, and of what consequence it was to retard the execution of his measures, he employed some soldiers belonging to the garrison of Pavia to lie in wait for these ambassadors as they sailed down the Po, who murdered them and most of their attendants, and seized their papers. Francis immediately demanded reparation for this barbarous outrage; and as Charles endeavoured to put him off with an evasive answer, he appealed to all the courts of Europe, setting forth the heinousness of the injury, the iniquity of the emperor in disregarding his just request, and the necessity of vengeance. But Charles, who was a more profound negociator, defeated in a great measure the effects of these representations; he secured the fidelity of the Protestant princes in Germany, by granting them new concessions; and he engaged the king of England to espouse his cause, under pretence of defending Europe against the infidels; while Francis was only able to form an alliance with the kings of Denmark and Sweden (who for the first time interested themselves in the quarrels of the more potent monarchs of the south), and to renew his treaty with Soliman, which drew on him the indignation of all Christendom. But the activity of Francis supplied all the defects of his negociation. Five armies were soon ready to take the field, under different generals, and with different destinations. Nor was Charles wanting in his preparations. He and Henry a second time made an ideal division of the kingdom of France. But as the hostilities which followed terminated in nothing decisive, and were distinguished by no remarkable event, except the battles of Cerisoles (gained by count d'Enguien over the imperialists, and in which 10,000 of the emperor best troops fell), at last Francis and Charles, mutually tired of harassing each other, concluded at Crespy a treaty of peace in which the king of England was not mentioned; and, from being implacable enemies, became once more, to appearance, cordial friends, and even allies by the ties of blood. The chief articles of this treaty were, that all the conquests which either party had made since the truce of Nice should be restored; that the emperor should give in marriage to the duke of Orleans, either his eldest daughter, with the Low Countries, or the second daughter of his brother Ferdinand, with the investiture of the Milanese; that Francis should renounce all pretensions to the kingdom of Naples, as well as to the sovereignty of Flanders and Artois, and Charles give up his claim to the duchy of Burgundy; and that both should unite in making war against the Turks.

The emperor was chiefly induced to grant conditions so advantageous to France, by a desire of humbling the Protestant princes in Germany. With the papal jurisdiction, he foresaw they would endeavour to throw off the imperial authority; and he determined to make his zeal for the former a pretence for enforcing and extending the latter. However, the death of the duke of Orleans, before the consummation of his

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