Soon
after the death of Ximenes, Charles made his public entry, with great pomp,
into Valladolid, whither be had summoned the Cortes of Castile. Though he
assumed on all occasions the name of king, that title had never been
acknowledged in the Cortes. The Spaniards considered Joanna as possessed of the
sole right to the crown, and no example of a son's having enjoyed the title of
king during the life of his parents occurring in their history, the Cortes
discovered all that scrupulous respect for ancient forms, and that aversion to
innovation, which are conspicuous in popular assemblies. The presence, however,
of their prince, the address, the artifices, and the threats of his ministers,
prevailed on them at last to proclaim him king, in conjunction with his mother,
whose name they appointed to be placed before that of her son in all public
acts. But when they made this concession, they declared, that if, at any future
period, Joanna should recover the exercise of reason, the whole royal authority
should return into her hands. At the same time, they voted a free gift of six
hundred thousand ducats, to be paid in three years, a sum more considerable
than had ever been granted to any former monarch.
Notwithstanding
this obsequiousness of the Cortes to the will of the king, the most violent
symptoms of dissatisfaction with his government began to break out in the
kingdom. Chievres had acquired over the mind of the young monarch the
ascendant, not only of a tutor, but of a parent. Charles seemed to have no
sentiments but those which his minister inspired, and scarcely uttered a word
but what he put into his mouth. He was constantly surrounded by Flemings; no
person got access to him without their permission; nor was any admitted to
audience but in their presence. As he spoke the Spanish language very
imperfectly, his answers were always extremely short, and often delivered with
hesitation. From all these circumstances, many of the Spaniards were led to
believe, that he was a prince of a slow and narrow genius.
Some pretended to
discover a strong resemblance between him and his mother, and began to whisper
that his capacity for government would never be far superior to hers; and
though they who had the best opportunity of judging concerning his character,
maintained, that notwithstanding such unpromising appearances, he possessed a
large fund of knowledge, as well as of sagacity; yet all agreed in condemning
his partiality towards the Flemings, and his attachment to his favorites, as
unreasonable and immoderate. Unfortunately for Charles, these favorites were
unworthy of his confidence. To amass wealth seems to have been their only aim:
and as they had reason to fear, that either their master’s good sense, or the
indignation of the Spaniards, might soon abridge their power, they hastened to
improve the present opportunity, and their avarice was the more rapacious,
because they expected their authority to be of no long duration. All honors,
offices, and benefices, were either engrossed by the Flemings, or publicly sold
by them. Chievres, his wife, and Sauvage, whom Charles, on the death of
Ximenes, had imprudently raised to be Chancellor of Castile, vied with each
other in all the refinements of extortion and venality. Not only the Spanish
historians, who, from resentment, may be suspected of exaggeration, but Peter
Martyr Angleria, an Italian, who resided at that time in the court of Spain,
and who was under no temptation to deceive the persons to whom his letters are
addressed, gives a description which is almost incredible, of the insatiable
and shameless covetousness of the Flemings. According to Angleria’s
calculation, which he asserts to be extremely moderate, they remitted into the
Low-Countries, in the space of ten months, no less a sum than a million and one
hundred thousand ducats. The nomination of William de Croy, Chievres’ nephew, a
young man not of canonical age, to the archbishopric of Toledo, exasperated the
Spaniards more than all these exactions. They considered the elevation of a
stranger to the head of their church, and to the richest benefice in the
kingdom, not only as an injury, but as an insult to the whole nation; both
clergy and laity, the former from interest, the latter from indignation, joined
in, exclaiming against it.
Charles
leaving Castile thus disgusted with his administration, set out for Saragossa,
the capital of Aragon, that he might be present in the Cortes of that kingdom.
On his way thither, he took leave of his brother Ferdinand, who he sent to
Germany on the pretence of visiting their grandfather, Maximilian, in his old
age. To this prudent precaution, Charles owed the preservation of the Spanish
dominions. During the violent commotions which arose there soon after this
period, the Spaniards would infallibly have offered the crown to a prince, who
was the darling of the whole nation ; nor did Ferdinand want ambition, or
counselors, that might have prompted him to accept of the offer.
The
Aragonese had not hitherto acknowledged Charles as king, nor would they allow
the Cortes to be assembled in his name, but in that of the Justiza, to whom, during an interregnum, this privilege belonged.
The opposition Charles had to struggle with in the Cortes of Aragon, was more
violent and obstinate than that which he had overcome in Castile; after long
delay’s, however, and with much difficulty, he persuaded the members to confer
on him the title of king, in conjunction with his mother. At the same time he
bound himself by that solemn oath, which the Aragonese exacted of their kings,
never to violate any of their rights or liberties. When a donative was
demanded, the members were still more intractable; many months elapsed before
they would agree to grant Charles two hundred thousand ducats, and that sum
they appropriated so strictly for paying the debts of the crown, which had long
been forgotten, that a very small part of it came into the king’s hands. What
had happened in Castile taught them caution, and determined them rather to
satisfy the claims of their fellow-citizens, how obsolete soever, than to
furnish strangers the means of enriching themselves with the spoils of their
country.
During
these proceedings of the Cortes, ambassadors arrived at Saragossa from Francis
I and the young king of Navarre, demanding the restitution of that kingdom in
terms of' the treaty of Noyon. But neither Charles, nor the Castilian nobles
whom he consulted on this occasion, discovered any inclination to part with
this acquisition. A conference held soon after at Montpelier, in order to bring
this matter to an amicable issue, was altogether fruitless; while the French
urged the injustice of the usurpation, the Spaniards were attentive only to its
importance.
From
Aragon Charles proceeded to Catalonia, where he wasted as much time,
encountered more difficulties, and gained less money. The Flemings were now
become so odious in every province of Spain by their exactions, that the desire
of mortifying them, and of disappointing their avarice, augmented the jealousy
with which a free people usually conducted their deliberations.
The
Castilians, who had felt most sensibly the weight and rigor of the oppressive
schemes carried on by the Flemings, resolved no longer to submit with a
tameness fatal to themselves, and which rendered them the objects of scorn to
their fellow-subjects in the other kingdoms, of which the Spanish monarchy was
composed. Segovia, Toledo, Seville, and several other cities of the first rank,
entered into a confederacy for the defence of their rights and privileges; and
notwithstanding the silence of the nobility, who, on this occasion, discovered
neither the public spirit, nor the resolution which became their order, the
confederates laid before the king a full view of the state of the kingdom, and
of the maladministration of his favorites.
The preferment of strangers, the
exportation of the current coin, the increase of taxes, were the grievances of
which they chiefly complained; and of these they demanded redress with that
boldness which is natural to a free people. These remonstrances, presented at
first at Saragossa, and renewed afterwards at Barcelona, Charles treated with
great neglect. The confederacy, however, of these cities, at this juncture, was
the beginning of that famous union among the commons of Castile, which not long
after threw the kingdom into such violent convulsions as shook the throne, and
almost overturned the constitution.
Soon
after Charles’s arrival at Barcelona, he received the account of an event which
interested him much more than the murmurs of the Castilians, or the scruples of
the Cortes of Catalonia. This was the death of the emperor Maximilian [Jan. 12];
an occurrence of small importance in itself, for he was a prince conspicuous
neither for his virtues, nor his power, nor his abilities; but rendered by its
consequences more memorable than any that had happened during several ages. It
broke that profound and universal peace which then signed in the Christian
world; it excited a rivalship between two princes, which threw all Europe into
agitation, and kindled wars more general, and of longer duration, than had
hitherto been known in modern times.
The
revolutions occasioned by the expedition of the French king, Charles VIII into
Italy, had inspired the European princes with new ideas concerning the
importance of the Imperial dignity. The claims of the empire upon some of the
Italian states were numerous; its jurisdiction over others was extensive; and
though the former had been almost abandoned, and the latter seldom exercised,
under princes of slender abilities and of little influence, it was obvious,
that in the hands of an emperor possessed of power or of genius, they might be
employed as engines for stretching his dominion over the greater part of that
country. Even Maximilian, feeble and unsteady as his conduct always was, had
availed himself of the infinite pretensions of the empire, and had reaped
advantage from every war and every negotiation in Italy during his reign. These
considerations, added to the dignity of the station, confessedly the first
among Christian princes, and to the rights inherent in the office, which, if
exerted with vigour, were far from being inconsiderable, rendered the Imperial
crown more than ever an object of ambition.
Charles V of Germany, King of the Romans