1538. THE PEACE OF THE POPE
The pope, however, did not despair of accomplishing a point in which the
plenipotentiaries had failed, and took upon himself the sole burden of
negotiating a peace. To form a confederacy capable of defending Christendom
from the formidable inroads of the Turkish arms, and to concert effectual
measures for the extirpation of the Lutheran heresy, were two great objects
which Paul had much at heart, and he considered the union of the emperor with
the king of France as an essential preliminary to both.
To be the instrument of
reconciling these contending monarchs, whom his predecessors by their
interested and indecent intrigues had so often embroiled, was a circumstance
which could not fail of throwing distinguished luster on his character and
administration. Nor was he without hopes that, while he pursued this laudable
end, he might secure advantages to his own family, the aggrandizing of which
he did not neglect, though he aimed at it with a less audacious ambition than
was common among the popes of that century.
Influenced by these considerations,
he proposed an interview between the two monarchs, at Nice, and offered to
repair thither in person, that he might act as mediator in composing all their
differences. When a pontiff of a venerable character, and of a very advanced
age, was willing, from his zeal for peace, to undergo the fatigues of so long a
journey, neither Charles nor Francis could with decency decline the interview. But though both came to the place of rendezvous, so great was the difficulty of
adjusting the ceremonial, or such the remains of distrust and rancor on each
side, that they refused to see one another, and everything was transacted by
the intervention of the pope, who visited them alternately.
With all his zeal
and ingenuity he could not find out a method of removing the Obstacles which
prevented a final accommodation, particularly those arising from the possession
of the Milanese; nor was all the weight of his authority sufficient to overcome
the obstinate perseverance of either monarch in asserting his own claims. At
last, that he might not seem to have labored altogether without effect, he
prevailed on them to sign a truce for ten years [June 18], upon the same
condition with the former, that each should retain what was now in his possession,
and in the meantime should send ambassadors to Rome, to discuss their pretensions
at leisure.
Thus
ended a war of no long continuance, but very extensive in its operations, and
in which both parties exerted their utmost strength. Though Francis failed in
the object which he had principally in view, the recovery of the Milanese, he
acquired, nevertheless, great reputation by the wisdom of his measures as well
as the success of his arms in repelling a formidable invasion; and by keeping
possession of one half of the duke of Savoy’s dominions, he added no
inconsiderable accession of strength to his kingdom. Whereas Charles, repulsed
and baffled, after having boasted so arrogantly of victory, purchased an
inglorious truce, by sacrificing an ally who had rashly confided too much in
his friendship and power.
The unfortunate duke murmured, complained, and
remonstrated against a treaty so much to his disadvantage, but in vain; he had
no means of redress, and was obliged to submit. Of all his dominions, Nice,
with its dependences, was the only corner of which he himself kept possession.
He saw the rest divided between a powerful invader and the ally to whose
protection he had trusted, while he remained a sad monument of the imprudence
of weak princes, who by taking part in the quarrel of mighty neighbors, between
whom they happen to be situated, are crushed and overwhelmed in the shock.
A
few days after signing the treaty of truce, the emperor set sail for Barcelona,
but was driven by contrary winds to the island of St. Margaret on the coast of
Provence. When Francis, who happened to be not far distant, heard of this, he
considered it as an office of civility to invite him to take shelter in his
dominions, and proposed a personal interview with him at Aigues-mortes. The
emperor, who would not be outdone by his rival in complaisance, instantly
repaired thither. As soon as he cast anchor in the road, Francis, without
waiting to settle any point of ceremony, but relying implicitly on the emperor’s
honor for his security, visited him on board his galley, and was received and
entertained with the warmest demonstrations of esteem and affection. Next day
the emperor repaid the confidence which the king had placed in him. He landed
at Aiguesmortes with as little precaution, and met with a reception equally
cordial. He remained on shore during the night, and in both visits the two
monarchs vied with each other in expressions of respect and friendship.
After
twenty years of open hostilities, or of secret enmity; after so many injuries
reciprocally inflicted or endured; after having formally challenged one another
to single combat; after the emperor had inveighed so publicly against Francis
as a prince void of honor and integrity; and after Francis had accused him of
being accessary to the murder of his eldest son; such an interview appears
altogether singular and even unnatural. But the history of these monarchs
abounds with such surprising transitions. From implacable hatred they appeared
to pass, in a moment, to the most cordial reconcilement; nom suspicion and distrust,
to perfect confidence; and from, practicing all the dark arts of a deceitful
policy, they could assume, of a sudden, the liberal and open manners of two
gallant gentlemen.
THE
STORY OF THE MURDER OF THE DUKE OF
FLORENCE