About the time that Charles landed in Spain, Adrian set out for Italy to take possession of his new dignity. But though the Roman people longed extremely for his arrival, they could not, on his first appearance, conceal their surprise and disappointment. After being accustomed to the princely magnificence of Julius, and the elegant splendor of Leo, they beheld with contempt an old man of an humble deportment, and of austere manners, an enemy to pomp, destitute of taste in the arts, and unadorned with any of the external accomplishments which the vulgar expect in those raised to eminent stations. Nor did his political views and maxims seem less strange and astonishing to the pontifical ministers. He acknowledged and bewailed the corruptions which abounded in the church, as well as in the court of Rome, and prepared to reform both; he discovered no intention of aggrandizing his family; he even scrupled at retaining such territories as some of his predecessors had acquired by violence or fraud, rather than by any legal title, and for that reason be invested Francesco Maria de Rovere anew in the duchy of Urbino, of which Leo had stripped him, and surrendered to the duke of Ferrara, several places wrested from him by the church.

To men little habituated to see princes regulate their conduct by the maxims of morality and the principles of justice, these actions of the new pope appeared incontestable proofs of his weakness or inexperience. Adrian, who was a perfect stranger to the complex and intricate system of Italian politics and who could place no confidence in persons whose subtle refinements in business suited so ill with the natural simplicity and candor of his own character, being often embarrassed and irresolute in his deliberations, the opinion of his incapacity daily increased, until both his person and government became objects of ridicule among his subjects.

Adrian, though devoted to the emperor, endeavored to assume the impartiality which became the common father of Christendom, and labored to reconcile the contending princes, in order that they might unite in a league against Solyman, whose conquest of Rhodes rendered him more formidable than ever to Europe. But this was an undertaking far beyond his abilities. To examine such a variety of pretensions, to adjust such a number of interfering interests, to extinguish the passions which ambition, emulation, and mutual injuries had kindled, to bring so many hostile powers to pursue the same scheme with unanimity and vigour, required not only uprightness of intention, but great superiority both of understanding and address.

The Italian states were no less desirous of peace than the pope. The Imperial army under Colonna was still kept on foot; but as the emperor's revenues in Spain, in Naples, and in the Low-Countries, were either exhausted or applied to some other purpose, it depended entirely for pay and subsistence on the Italians. A great part of it was quartered in the ecclesiastical state, and monthly contributions were levied upon the Florentines, the Milanese, the Genoese, and Lucchese, by the viceroy of Naples; and though all exclaimed against such oppression, and were impatient to be delivered from it, the dread of worse consequences from the rage of the army, or the resentment of the emperor, obliged them to submit.

So much regard, however, was paid to the pope’s exhortations, and to a bull which he issued, requiring all Christian princes to consent to a truce for three years, that the Imperial, the French, and English ambassadors at Rome, were empowered by their respective courts to treat of that matter; but while they wasted their time in fruitless negotiations, their masters continued their preparations for war. The Venetians, who had hitherto adhered with great firmness to their alliance with Francis, being now convinced that his affairs in Italy were in a desperate situation, entered into a league against him with the emperor [June 28]; to which Adrian, at the instigation of his countryman and friend Charles de Lannoy, viceroy of Naples, who persuaded him that the only obstacles to peace arose from the ambition of the French king, soon after acceded. The other Italian states followed their example; and Francis was left without a single ally to resist the efforts of so many enemies, whose armies threatened, and whose territories encompassed, his dominions on every side.

The dread of this powerful confederacy, it was thought, would have obliged Francis to keep wholly on the defensive, or at least have prevented his entertaining any thoughts of marching into Italy. But it was the character of that prince, too apt to become remiss, and even negligent on ordinary occasions, to rouse at the approach of danger, and not only to encounter it with spirit and intrepidity, qualities which never forsook him, but to provide against it with diligence and industry. Before his enemies were ready to execute any of their schemes, Francis had assembled a numerous army. His authority over his own subjects was far greater than that which Charles or Henry possessed over theirs. They depended on their diets, their Cortes, and their parliaments, for money, which was usually granted them in small sums, very slowly, and with much reluctance. The taxes he could impose were more considerable, and levied with greater despatch; so that on this, as well as on other occasions, he brought his armies into the field while they were only devising ways and means for raising theirs. Sensible of this advantage, Francis hoped to disconcert all the emperor's schemes by marching in person into the Milanese; and this bold measure, the more formidable because unexpected, could scarcely have failed of producing that effect. But when the vanguard of his army had already reached Lyons, and he himself was hastening after it with a second division of his troops, the discovery of a domestic conspiracy, which threatened the ruin of the kingdom, obliged him to stop short, and to alter his measures.

The author of this dangerous plot was Charles duke of Bourbon, lord high constable, whose noble birth, vast fortune, and high office, raised him to be the most powerful subject in France, as his great talents, equally suited to the field or the council, and his signal services to the crown, rendered him the most illustrious and deserving. The near resemblance between the king and him in many of their qualities, both being fond of war, and ambitious to excel in manly exercises, as well as their equality in age, and their proximity of blood, ought naturally to have secured to him a considerable share in that monarch's favor. But unhappily Louise, the king's mother, had contracted a violent aversion to the house of Bourbon, for no better reason than because Anne of Bretagne, the queen of Louis the XII, with whom she lived in perpetual enmity, had discovered a peculiar attachment to that branch of the royal family; and had taught her son, who was too susceptible of any impression which his mother gave him, to view all the constable's actions with a mean and unbecoming Jealousy. His distinguished merit at the battle of Marignano bad not been sufficiently rewarded; he had been recalled from the government of Milan upon very frivolous pretences, and had met with a cold reception, which his prudent conduct in that difficult station did not deserve; the payment of his pensions had been suspended without any good cause; and during the campaign of one thousand five hundred and twenty-one, the king, as has already been related, had affronted him in presence of the whole army, by giving the command of the van to the duke of Alençon. The constable, at first, bore these indignities with greater moderation than could have been expected from a high-spirited prince, conscious of what was due to his rank and to his services. Such a multiplicity of injuries, however, exhausted his patience; and inspiring him with thoughts of revenge, he retired from court, and began to hold a secret correspondence with some of the emperor’s ministers.

About that time the duchess of Bourbon happened to die without leaving any children. Louise, of a disposition no less amorous than vindictive, and still susceptible of the tender passions at the age of forty-six, began to view the constable, a prince as amiable as he was accomplished, with other eyes; and notwithstanding the great disparity of their years, she formed the scheme of marrying him. Bourbon, who might have expected everything to which an ambitious mind can aspire, from the doating fondness of a woman who governed her son and the kingdom, being incapable either of imitating the queen in her sudden transition from hatred to love, or of dissembling so meanly as to pretend affection for one who had persecuted him so long with unprovoked malice, not only rejected the match, but embittered his refusal by some severe raillery on Louise’s person and character. She, finding herself not only contemned but insulted, her disappointed love turned into hatred, and since she could not marry, she resolved to ruin Bourbon.

For this purpose she consulted with chancellor Du Prat, a man who, by a base prostitution of great talents and of superior skill in his profession, had risen to that high office. By his advice, a law-suit was commenced against the constable, for the whole estate belonging to the house of Bourbon. Part of it was claimed in the king’s name, as having fallen to the crown; part in that of Louise, as the nearest heir in blood of the deceased duchess. Both these claims were equally destitute of any foundation in justice; but Louise, by her solicitations and authority, and Du Prat, by employing all the artifices and chicanery of law, prevailed on the judges to order the estate to be sequestered. This unjust decision drove the constable to despair, and to measures which despair alone could have dictated. He renewed his intrigues in the Imperial court, and flattering himself that the injuries which he had suffered would justify his having recourse to any means in order to obtain revenge, he offered to transfer his allegiance from his natural sovereign to the emperor, and to assist him in the conquest of France.

Charles, as well as the king of England, to whom the secret was communicated, expecting prodigious advantages from his revolt, were ready to receive him with open arms, and spared neither promises nor allurements which might help to confirm him in his resolution. The emperor offered him in marriage his sister Eleanor, the widow of the king of Portugal, with an ample portion. He was included as a principal in the treaty between Charles and Henry. The counties of Provence and Dauphine were to he settled on him with the title of king. The emperor engaged to enter France by the Pyrenees; and Henry, supported by the Flemings, to invade Picardy; while twelve thousand Germans, levied at their common charge, were to penetrate into Burgundy, and to act in concert with Bourbon, who undertook to raise six thousand men among his friends and vassals in the heart of the kingdom.  The execution of this deep-laid and dangerous plot was suspended, until the king should cross the Alps with the only army capable of defending his dominions; and as he was far advanced in his march for that purpose, France was on the brink of destruction.

Happily for that kingdom, a negotiation which had now been carrying on for several months, though conducted with the most profound secrecy, and communicated only to a few chosen confidents, could not altogether escape the observation of the rest of the constable’s numerous retainers, rendered more inquisitive by finding that they were distrusted. Two of these gave the king some intimation of a mysterious correspondence between their master and the count de Roeux, a Flemish nobleman of great confidence with the emperor. Francis, who could not bring himself to suspect that the first prince of the blood would be so base as to betray the kingdom to its enemies, immediately repaired to Moulines, where the constable was in bed, feigning indisposition that he might not be obliged to accompany the king into Italy, and acquainted him of the intelligence which he had received. Bourbon, with great solemnity, and the most imposing affectation of ingenuity and candor, asserted his own innocence; and as his health, he said, was now more confirmed, he promised to join the army within a few days. Francis, open and candid himself, and too apt to be deceived by the appearance of those virtues in others, gave such credit to what he said, that he refused to arrest him, although advised to take that precaution by his wisest counselors; and as if the danger had been over, he continued his march towards Lyons. The constable set out soon after [September], seemingly with an intention to follow him; but turning suddenly to the left, he crossed the Rhone, and after infinite fatigue and peril, escaped all the parties which the king, who became sensible too late of his own credulity, sent out to intercept him, and reached Italy in safety.

Francis took every possible precaution to prevent the bad effects of the irreparable error which he had committed. He put garrisons in all the places of strength in the constable’s territories. He seized all the gentlemen whom he could suspect of being his associates; and as he had not hitherto discovered the whole extent of the conspirator’s schemes, nor knew how far the infection had spread among his subjects, he was afraid that his absence might encourage them to make some desperate attempt, and for that reason relinquished his intention of leading his army in person into Italy.

He did not, however, abandon his design on the Milanese, but appointed Admiral Bonnivet to take the supreme command in his stead, and to march into that country with an army thirty thousand strong. Bonnivet did not owe this preferment to his abilities as a general; for of all the talents requisite to form a great commander, he possessed only personal courage, the lowest and the most common. But he was the most accomplished gentleman in the French court, of agreeable manners and insinuating address, and a sprightly conversation; and Francis, who lived in great familiarity with his courtiers, was so charmed with these qualities, that he honored him on all occasions, with the most partial and distinguishing marks of his favor. He was, besides, the implacable enemy of Bourbon; and as the king hardly knew whom to trust at that juncture, be thought the chief command could be lodged nowhere so safely as in his bands.

Colonna, who was entrusted with the defence of the Milanese, his own conquest, was in no condition to resist such a formidable army. He was destitute of money sufficient to pay his troops, which were reduced, to a small number, by sickness or desertion, and had, for that reason, been obliged to neglect every precaution necessary for the security of the country. The only plan which he formed was to defend the passage of the river Tesino against the French; and as if he had forgotten how easily he himself had disconcerted a similar scheme formed by Lautrec, he promised with great confidence on its being effectual. But in spite of all his caution, it succeeded no better with him than with Lautrec. Bonnivet passed the river without loss, at a ford which had been neglected, and the Imperialists retired to Milan, preparing to abandon the town as soon as the French should appear before it. By an unaccountable negligence, which Guicciardini imputes to infatuation, Bonnivet did not advance for three or four days, and lost the opportunity with which his good fortune presented him. The citizens recovered from their consternation; Colonna, still active at the age of fourscore, and Morone, whose enmity to France rendered him indefatigable, were employed night and day in repairing the fortifications, in amassing provisions, in collecting troops from every quarter; and by the time the French approached, had put the city in a condition to stand a siege. Bonnivet, after some fruitless attempts on the town, which harassed his own troops more than the enemy, was obliged, by the inclemency of the season, to retire into winter quarters.

During these transactions, pope Adrian died; an event so much to the satisfaction of the Roman people, whose hatred or contempt of him augmented every day, that the night after his decease they adorned the door of his chief physician’s house with garlands, adding this inscription, TO THE DELIVERER OF HIS COUNTRY.

The cardinal, de Medici instantly renewed his pretensions to the papal dignity, and entered the conclave with high expectations on his own part, and a general opinion of the people that they would be successful. But though supported by the Imperial faction, possessed of great personal interest, and capable of all the artifices, refinements, and corruption which reign in those assemblies, the obstinacy and intrigues of his rivals protracted the conclave to the unusual length of fifty days. The address and perseverance of the cardinal at last surmounted every obstacle. He was raised to the head of the church [November 281] and assumed the government of it by the name of Clement VII.

The choice was universally approved of. High expectations were conceived of a pope, whose great talents, and long experience in business, seemed to qualify him no less for defending the spiritual interests of the church, exposed to imminent danger by the progress of Luther’s opinions, than for conducting its political operations with the prudence requisite at such a difficult juncture; and who, besides these advantages, rendered the ecclesiastical state more respectable, by having in his hands the government of Florence, together with the wealth of the family of Medici.    

Cardinal Wolsey, not disheartened by the disappointment of his ambitions views at the former election, had entertained more sanguine hopes of success on this occasion. Henry wrote to the emperor, reminding him of his engagements to second the pretensions of his minister. Wolsey be­stirred himself with activity suitable to the importance of the prize for which he contended, and instructed his agents at Rome to spare neither promises nor bribes in order to gain his end. But Charles had either aroused him with vain hopes which he never intended to gratify, or he judged it impolitic to oppose a candidate who had such a prospect of suc­ceeding as Medici; or perhaps the cardinals durst not venture to provoke the people of Rome, while their indignation against Adrian’s memory was still fresh, by placing another Ultramontane on the papal throne. Wolsey, after all his expectations and endeavors, had the mortification to see a pope elected, of such an age, and of so vigorous a constitution, that he could not derive much comfort to himself from the chance of surviving him. This second proof fully convinced Wolsey of the emperor’s insincerity, and it excited in him all the resentment which a haughty mind feels on being at once disappointed and deceived; and though Clement endeavored to soothe his vindictive nature by granting him a commission to be legate in England during life, with such ample powers as vested in him almost the whole papal jurisdiction in that kingdom, the injury he had now received made such an impression as entirely dissolved the tie which had united him to Charles, and from that moment he meditated revenge. It was necessary, however, to conceal his intention from his master, and to suspend the execution of it, until, by a dexterous improvement of the incidents which might occur, he should be able gradually to alienate the king’s affections from the emperor. For this reason he was so far from expressing any uneasiness on account of the repulse which he had met with, that he abounded on every occasion, private as well as public, in declarations of his high satisfaction with Clement’s promotion.

Henry had, during the campaign, fulfilled, with great sincerity, whatever he was bound to perform by the league against France, though more slowly than he could have wished. His thoughtless profusion, and total neglect of economy, reduced him often to great straits for money. The operations of war were now carried on in Europe in a manner very different from that which had long prevailed. Instead of armies suddenly assembled, which under distinct chieftains followed their prince into the field for a short space, and served at their own cost, troops were now levied at great charges, and received regularly considerable pay. Instead of impatience on both sides to bring every quarrel to the issue of a battle, which commonly decided the fate of open countries, and allowed the barons, together with their vassals, to return to their ordinary occupations; towns were fortified with great art, and defended with much obstinacy; war, from a very simple, became a very intricate science; and campaigns grew of course to be more tedious and less decisive. The expense which these alterations in the military system necessarily created, appeared intolerable to nations hitherto unaccustomed with the burden of heavy taxes. Hence proceeded the frugal, and even parsimonious spirit of the English parliaments in that age, which Henry, with all his authority, was seldom able to overcome. The commons, having refused at this time to grant him the supplies which he demanded, he had recourse to the ample and almost unlimited prerogative which the kings of England then possessed, and by a violent and unusual exertion of it, raised the money he wanted. This, however, wasted so much time, that it was late in the season [Sept. 20], before his army, under the duke of Suffolk, could take the field. Being joined by a considerable body of Flemings, Suffolk marched into Picardy, and Francis, from his extravagant eagerness to recover the Milanese, having left that frontier almost unguarded, he penetrated as far as the banks of the river Oyse, within eleven leagues of Paris, filling that capital with consternation. But the arrival of some troops detached by the king, who was still at Lyons; the active gallantry of the French officers, who allowed the allies no respite night or day; the rigor of a most unnatural season, together with scarcity of provisions, compelled Suffolk to retire [November]; and La Tremouille, who commanded in those parts, had the glory not only of having checked the progress of a formidable army with a handful of men, but of driving them with ignominy out of the French territories.

The emperor’s attempts upon Burgundy and Guienne were not more fortunate, though in both these provinces Francis was equally unprepared to resist them. The conduct and valor of his generals supplied his want of foresight; the Germans, who made an irruption into one of these provinces, and the Spaniards, who attacked the other, were repulsed with great disgrace.

Thus ended the year 1523, during which Francis's good fortune and success had been such as gave all Europe a high idea of his power and resources. He had discovered and disconcerted a dangerous conspiracy, the author of which he had driven into exile, almost without an attendant; he had rendered abortive all the schemes of the powerful confederacy formed against him; he had protected his dominions when attacked on three different sides; and though his army in the Milanese had not made such progress as might have been expected from its superiority to the enemy in number, he had recovered, and still kept possession of, one half of that duchy.