1537. THE
MADNESS OF THE FRENCH KING
Next year opened with a transaction very uncommon, but so incapable of
producing any effect, that it would not deserve to be mentioned if it were not
a striking proof of the personal animosity which mingled itself in all the
hostilities between Charles and Francis, and which often betrayed them into
such indecencies towards each other, as lessened the dignity of both. Francis,
accompanied by the peers and princes of the blood, having taken his seat in the
parliament of Paris with the usual solemnities, the advocate-general appeared;
and after accusing Charles of Austria (for so he affected to call the emperor)
of having violated the treaty of Cambray, by which he was absolved from the
homage due to the crown of France for the countries of Artois and Flanders;
insisted that this treaty Being now void, he was still to be considered as a
vassal of the crown, and by consequence had been guilty of rebellion in taking
arms against his sovereign; and therefore he demanded that Charles should be
summoned to appear in person, or by his counsel, before the parliament of
Paris, his legal judges, to answer for this crime. The request was granted; a
herald repaired to the frontiers of Picardy, and summoned him with the accustomed
formalities to appear against a day prefixed. That term being expired, and no
person appearing in his name, the parliament gave judgment, “That Charles of
Austria had forfeited by rebellion and contumacy those fiefs; declared Flanders
and Artois to be reunited to the crown of France!” and ordered their decree for
this purpose to be published by sound of trumpet on the frontiers of these
provinces.
Soon
after this vain display of his resentment, rather than of his power, Francis
marched towards the Low-Countries [March], as if he had intended to execute the
sentence which his parliament had pronounced, and to seize those territories
which it had awarded to him. As the queen of Hungary, to whom her brother the
emperor had committed the government of that part of his dominions, was not
prepared for so early a campaign, he at first made some progress, and took
several towns of importance. But being obliged soon to leave his army, in order
to superintend the operations of war, the Flemings, having assembled a numerous
army, not only recovered most of the places which they had lost, but began to
make conquests in their turn. At last they invested Terouenne, and the duke of
Orleans, now dauphin, by the death of his brother, and Montmorency, whom
Francis had honored with the constable’s sword, as the reward of his great services
during the former campaign, determined to hazard a battle in order to relieve
it. While they were advancing for this purpose, and within a few miles of the
enemy, they were stopped short by the arrival of a herald from the queen of
Hungary, acquainting him that a suspension of arms was now agreed upon.
This
unexpected event was owing to the zealous endeavors of the two sisters, the
queens of France and of Hungary, who had long labored to reconcile the
contending monarchs. The war in the Netherlands Had laid waste the frontier
provinces of both countries, without any real advantage to either. The French
and Flemings equally regretted the interruption of their commerce, which was
beneficial to both. Charles as well as Francis, who had each strained to the
utmost, in order to support the vast operations of the former campaign, found
that they could not now keep armies on foot in this quarter, without weakening
their operations in Piedmont, where both wished to push the war with the
greatest vigour. All these circumstances facilitated the negotiations of the
two queens; a truce was concluded [July 30th], to continue in force for ten
months, but it extended no farther than the Low-Countries.
In
Piedmont the war was still prosecuted with great animosity; and though neither
Charles nor Francis could make the powerful efforts to which this animosity
prompted them, they continued to exert themselves like combatants, whose rancor
remains after their strength is exhausted. Towns were alternately lost and
retaken; skirmishes were fought every day; and much blood was shed, without any
action that gave a decided superiority to either side. At last the two queens,
determined not to leave unfinished the Good work which they had begun,
prevailed, by their importunate solicitations, the one on her brother, the
other on her husband, to consent also to a truce in Piedmont for three months.
The conditions of it were, that, each should keep possession of what was in his
hands, and after leaving garrisons in the towns, should withdraw his army out
of the province; that plenipotentiaries should be appointed to adjust all
matters in dispute by a final treaty.
The
powerful motives which inclined both princes to this accommodation, have been
often mentioned. The expenses of the war had far exceeded the sums which their
revenues were capable of supplying; nor durst they venture upon any great
addition to the impositions then established, as subjects had not yet learned
to bear with patience the immense burdens to which they have become accustomed
in modern times. The emperor in particular, though he had contracted debts
which in that age appeared prodigious, had it not in his power to pay the large
arrears long due to his army. At the same time, he had no prospect of deriving
any aid in money or men either from the pope or venetians, though he had
employed promises and threats, alternately, in order to procure it. But he
found the former not only fixed in his resolution of adhering steadily to the
neutrality which he had always declared to be suitable to his character, but
passionately desirous of bringing about a peace. He perceived that the latter
were still intent on their ancient object of holding the balance even between
the rivals, and solicitous not to throw too great a weight into either scale.
What
made a deeper impression on Charles than all these, was the dread of the
Turkish arms, which, by his league with Solyman, Francis had drawn upon him.
Though Francis, without the assistance of a single ally, had a war to maintain
against an enemy greatly superior in power to himself, yet so great was the
horror of Christians, in that age, at any union with infidels, which they
considered not only as dishonorable but profane, that it was long before he
could be brought to avail himself of the obvious advantages resulting from such
a confederacy. Necessity at last surmounted his delicacy and scruples.
Towards
the close of the preceding year, La Forest, a secret agent at the Ottoman
Porte, had concluded a treaty with the sultan, whereby Solyman engaged to
invade the kingdom of Naples, during the next campaign, and to attack the king
of the Romans in Hungary with a powerful army, while Francis undertook to enter
the Milanese at the same time with a proper force. Solyman had punctually
performed what was incumbent on him. Barbarossa with a great fleet appeared on
the coast of Naples, filled that kingdom, from which all the troops had been
drawn towards Piedmont, 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, together with the pope’s
galleys, and a squadron of the Venetian fleet, made it prudent for him to
retire. In Hungary the progress of the Turks was more formidable. Mahmet, their
general, after gaining several small advantages, defeated the Germans in a
great battle at Essek on the Drave. Happily for Christendom, it was not in
Francis’s power to execute with equal exactness what he had stipulated; nor
could he assemble at this juncture an army strong enough to penetrate into the
Milanese. By this he failed in recovering possession of that duchy; and Italy
was not only saved from the calamities of a new war, but from feeling the desolating
rage of the Turkish arms, as an addition to all that it had suffered. As the
emperor knew that he could not long resist the efforts of two such powerful
confederates, nor could expect that the same fortunate accidents would concur a
second time to deliver Naples, and to preserve the Milanese; as he foresaw
that the Italian states would not only tax him loudly with insatiable ambition,
but might even turn their arms against him, if he should be so regardless of
their danger as obstinately to protract the war, he thought it necessary, both
for his safety and reputation, to give his consent to a truce. Nor was Francis
willing to sustain all the blame of obstructing the reestablishment of tranquility,
or to expose himself on that account to the danger of being deserted by the
Swiss and other foreigners in his service. He even began to apprehend that his
own subjects would serve him coldly, if by contributing to aggrandize the power
of the Infidels, which it was his duty, and had been the ambition of his
ancestors to depress, he continued to act in direct opposition to all the
principles which ought to influence a monarch distinguished by the title of
Most Christian King. He chose, for all these reasons, rather to run the risk of
disobliging his new ally the sultan, than, by an unseasonable adherence to the
treaty with him, to forfeit what was of greater consequence.
But
though both parties consented to a truce, the plenipotentiaries found
insuperable difficulties in settling the articles of a definitive treaty. Each
of the monarchs, with the arrogance of a conqueror, aimed at giving law to the
other; and neither would so far acknowledge his inferiority, as to sacrifice
any point of honor, or to relinquish any matter of right; so that the
plenipotentiaries spent the time in long and fruitless negotiations, and
separated after agreeing to prolong the truce for a few months.
1538. THE PEACE OF THE POPE