HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION

BOOK XI.

 

THE SIEGE OF METZ

 

As soon as the treaty of Passau was signed, Maurice, in consequence of his engagements with Ferdinand, marched into Hungary with twenty thousand men [Aug. 3]. But the great superiority of the Turkish armies, the frequent mutinies both of the Spanish and German soldiers, occasioned by their want of pay, together with the dissensions between Maurice and Castaldo, who was piqued at being obliged of resign the chief command to him, prevented his performing anything in that country suitable to his former fame, or of great benefit to the king of the Romans.

When Maurice set out for Hungary, the prince of Hesse parted from him with the forces under his command, and marched back into his own country, that he might be ready to receive his father upon his return, and give up to him the reins of government which he had held during his absence. But fortune was not yet weary of persecuting the landgrave. A battalion of mercenary troops, which had been in the pay of Hesse, being seduced by Reifenberg, their colonel, a soldier of fortune, ready to engage in any enterprise, secretly withdrew from the young prince, as he was marching homewards, and joined Albert of Brandenburg, who still continued in arms against the emperor, refusing to be included in the treaty of Passau.

Unhappily for the landgrave, an account of this reached the Netherlands, just as he was dismissed from the citadel of Mechlin, where he had been confined, but before he had got beyond the frontiers of that country. The queen of Hungary, who governed there in her brother's name, incensed at such an open violation of the treaty to which he owed his liberty, issued orders to arrest him, and committed him again to the custody of the same Spanish captain who had guarded him for five years with the most severe vigilance. Philip beheld all the horrors of his imprisonment renewed, and his spirits subsiding in the same proportion as they had risen during the short interval in which he had enjoyed liberty; he sunk into despair, and believed himself to be doomed to perpetual captivity. But the matter being so explained to the emperor, as fully satisfied him that the revolt of Reitenberg's mercenaries could be imputed neither to the landgrave nor to his son, he gave orders for his release; and Philip at last obtained the liberty for which he had so long languished. But though he recovered his freedom, and was reinstated in his dominions, his sufferings seem to have broken the vigour, and to have extinguished the activity of his mind: from being the boldest as well as most enterprising prince in the empire, he became the most timid and cautious, and passed the remainder of his days in a pacific indolence.

The degraded elector of Saxony, likewise, procured his liberty in consequence of the treaty of Passau. The emperor having been obliged to relinquish all his schemes for extirpating the protestant religion, had no longer any motive for detaining him a prisoner; and being extremely solicitous, at that juncture, to recover the confidence and good-will of the Germans, whose assistance was essential to the success of the enterprise which he meditated against the king of France, he, among other expedients for that purpose, thought of releasing from imprisonment a prince whose merit entitled him no less to esteem, than his sufferings rendered him the object of compassion. John Frederick took possession accordingly of that part of his territories which had been reserved for him, when Maurice was invested with the electoral dignity. As in this situation he continued to display the same virtuous magnanimity for which he had been conspicuous in a more prosperous and splendid state, and which he had retained amidst all his sufferings, he maintained during the remainder of his life that high reputation to which he had so just a title.

The loss of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, had made a deep impression on the emperor. Accustomed to terminate all his operations against France with advantage to himself, he thought that it nearly concerned his honor not to allow Henry the superiority in this war, or to suffer his own administration to be stained with the infamy of having permitted territories of such consequence to be dismembered from the empire.

This was no less a point of interest than of honor. As the frontier of Champagne was more naked, and lay more exposed than that of any province in France, Charles had frequently, during his wars with that kingdom, made inroads upon that quarter with great success and effect, but if Henry were allowed to retain his late conquests, France would gain such a formidable barrier on that side, as to be altogether secure, where formerly she had been weakest. On the other hand, the empire had now lost as much, in point of security, as France had acquired; and being stripped of the defence which those cities afforded it, lay open to be invaded on a quarter, where all the towns having been hitherto considered as interior, and remote from any enemy, were but slightly fortified. These considerations determined Charles to attempt recovering the three towns of which Henry had made himself master; and the preparations which he had made against Maurice and his associates enabled him to carry his resolution into immediate execution.

As soon, then, as the peace was concluded at Passau, he left his inglorious retreat at Villach, and advanced to Augsburg, at the head of a considerable body of Germans which he had levied, together with all the troops which he had drawn out of Italy and Spain. To these he added several battalions, which having been in the pay of the confederates entered into his service when dismissed by them; and he prevailed likewise on some princes of the empire to join him with their vassals. In order to conceal the destination of this formidable army, and to guard against alarming the French king, so as to put him on preparing for the defence of his late con­quests, he gave out that he was to march forthwith into Hungary, in order to second Maurice in his operations against the Infidels. When he began to advance towards the Rhine, and could no longer employ that pretext, he tried a new artifice, and spread a report, that he took this route in order to chastise Albert of Brandenburg, whose cruel exactions in that part of the empire called loudly for his interposition to check them.

But the French having grown acquainted, at last, with arts by which they had been so often deceived, viewed all Charles's motions with distrust. Henry immediately discerned the true object of his vast preparations, and resolved to defend the important conquests which he had gained with vigor equal to that with which they were about to be attacked. As he foresaw that the whole weight of the war would be turned against Metz, by whose fate that of Toul and Verdun would be determined, he nominated Francis of Lorrain, duke of Guise, to take the command in that city during the siege, the issue of which would equally affect the honor and interest of his country. His choice could not have fallen upon any person more worthy of that trust. The duke of Guise possessed, in a high degree, all the talents of courage, sagacity, and presence of mind, which render men eminent in military command. He was largely endowed with that magnanimity of soul which delights in bold enterprises, and aspires to fame by splendid and extraordinary actions. He repaired with joy to the dangerous station assigned him, as to a theatre on which he might display his great qualities under the immediate eye of his countrymen, all ready to applaud him. The martial genius of the French nobility in that age, which considered it as the greatest reproach to remain inactive, when there was any opportunity of signalizing their courage, prompted great numbers to follow a leader who was the darling as well as the pattern of every one that courted military fame. Several princes of the blood, many noblemen of the highest rank, and all the young officers who could obtain the king's permission, entered Metz as volunteers. By their presence they added spirit to the garrison, and enabled the duke of Guise to employ, on every emergency, persons eager to distinguish themselves, and fit to conduct any service.

But with whatever alacrity the duke of Guise undertook the defence of Metz, he found everything upon his arrival there, in such a situation, as might have induced any person of less intrepid courage to despair of defending it with success. The city was of great extent, with large suburbs; the walls were in many places feeble and without ramparts; the ditch narrow; and the old towers, which projected instead of bastions, were at too great distance from each other to defend the space between them. For all these defects he endeavored to provide the best remedy which the time would permit. He ordered the suburbs, without sparing me monasteries or churches, not even that of St. Arnulph, in which several kings of France had been buried, to be leveled with the ground; but in order to guard against the imputation of impiety, to which such a violation of so many sacred edifices, as well as of the ashes of the dead, might expose him, he executed this with much religious ceremony. Having ordered all the holy vestments and utensils, together with the bones of the kings, and other persons deposited in these churches to be removed, they were carried in solemn procession to a church within the walls, he himself walking before them bare-headed, with a torch in his hand. He then pulled down such houses as stood near the walls, cleared and enlarged the ditch, repaired the ruinous fortifications, and erected new ones. As it was necessary that all these works should be finished with the utmost expedition, he labored at them with his own hands: the officers and volunteers imitated his example, and the soldiers submitted with cheerfulness to the most severe and fatiguing service, when they saw that their superiors did not decline to bear a part in it. At the same time he compelled all useless persons to leave the place; he filled the magazines with provisions and military stores; he burnt the mills, and destroyed the corn and forage for several miles round the town. Such were his popular talents, as well as his arts of acquiring an ascendant over the minds of men, that the citizens seconded him with no less ardor than the soldiers; and every other passion being swallowed up in the zeal to repulse the enemy, with which he inspired them, they beheld the ruin of their estates, together with the havoc which he made among their public and private buildings, without any emotion of resentment.

Meantime the emperor having collected all his forces, continued his march towards Metz. As he passed through the cities on the Rhine, he saw the dismal effects of that licentious and wasteful war which Albert had carried on in these parts. Upon his approach, that prince, though at the head of twenty thousand men, withdrew into Lorrain, as if he had intended to join the French king, whose arms he had quartered with his own in all his standards and ensigns. Albert was not in a condition to cope with the Imperial troops, which amounted at least to sixty thousand men, forming one of the most numerous and best appointed armies which had been brought into the field during that age, in any of the wars among Christian princes.

The chief command, under the emperor, was committed to the duke of Alva, assisted by the marquis de Marignano, together with the most experienced of the Italian and Spanish generals. As it was now towards the end of October, these intelligent officers represented the great danger of beginning, at such an advanced season, a siege which could not fail to prove very tedious. But Charles adhered to his own opinion with his usual obstinacy, and being confident that he had made such preparations, and taken such precautions, as would ensure success, he ordered the city to be invested. As soon as the duke of Alva appeared [Oct. 191], a large body of the French sallied out and attacked his vanguard with great vigor, put it in confusion, and killed or took prisoners a considerable number of men. By this early specimen which they gave of the conduct of their officers, as well as the valor of their troops, they showed the Imperialists what an enemy they had to encounter, and how dear every advantage must cost them. The place, however, was completely invested, the trenches were opened, and the other works begun.

The attention both of the besiegers and besieged was turned for some time towards Albert of Brandenburg, and they strove with emulation which should gain that prince, who still hovered in the neighborhood, fluctuating in all the uncertainty of irresolution, natural to a man, who, being swayed by no principle, was allured different ways by contrary views of interest. The French tempted him with offers extremely beneficial; the Imperialists scrupled at no promise which they thought could allure him. After much hesitation he was gained by the emperor, from whom he expected to receive advantages which were both more immediate and more permanent. As the French king, who began to suspect his intentions, had appointed a body of troops under the duke of Aumale, brother to the duke of Guise, to watch his motions, Albert fell upon them unexpectedly with such vigour that he routed them entirely [Nov. 41], killed many of the officers wounded Aumale himself, and took him prisoner. Immediately after this victory, he marched in triumph to Metz, and joined his army to that of the emperor. Charles, in reward for this service, and the great accession of strength which he brought him, granted Albert a formal pardon of all past offences, and confirmed him in the possession of the territories which he had violently usurped during the war.

The duke of Guise, though deeply affected with his brother's misfortune, did not remit, in any degree, the vigor with which he defended the town. He harassed the besiegers by frequent sallies, in which his officers were so eager to distinguish themselves, that his authority being hardly sufficient to restrain the impetuosity of their courage, he was obliged at different times to shut the gates, and to conceal the keys, in order to prevent the princes of the blood, and noblemen of the first rank, from exposing themselves to danger in every sally. He repaired in the night what the enemy's artillery had beat down during the day, or erected behind the ruined works new fortifications of almost equal strength. The Imperialists, on their part, pushed on the attack with great spirit, and carried forward, at once, approaches against different parts of the town. But the art of attacking fortified places was not then arrived at that degree of perfection to which it was carried towards the close of the sixteenth century, during the long war in the Netherlands. The besiegers, after the unwearied labor of many weeks, found that they had made but little progress; and although their batteries had made breaches in different places, they saw, to their astonishment, works suddenly appear, in demolishing which their fatigues and dangers would be renewed. The emperor, enraged at the obstinate resistance which his army met with, left Thionville, where he had been confined by a violent fit of the gout, and though still so infirm that he was obliged to be carried in a litter, he repaired to the camp [Nov. 26]; that, by his presence, he might animate the soldiers, and urge on the attack with greater spirit. Upon his arrival, new batteries were erected, and new efforts were made with redoubled ardor.

But, by this time, winter had set in with great rigor; the camp was alternately deluged with rain or covered with snow; at the same time provisions were become extremely scarce, as a body of French cavalry which hovered in the neighborhood, often interrupted the convoys, or rendered their arrival difficult and uncertain. Diseases began to spread among the soldiers, especially among the Italians and Spaniards, unaccustomed to such inclement weather; great numbers were disabled from serving, and many died. At length such breaches were made as seemed practicable, and Charles resolved to hazard a general assault, in spite of all the remonstrances of his generals against the imprudence of attacking a numerous garrison, conducted and animated by the most gallant of the French nobility, with an army weakened by diseases, and disheartened with ill success. The duke of Guise, suspecting the emperor's intentions from the extraordinary movements which he observed in the enemy's camp, ordered all his troops to their respective posts. They appeared immediately on the walls, and behind the breaches, with such a determined countenance, so eager for the combat, and so well prepared to give the assailants a warm reception, that the Imperialists, instead of advancing to the charge when the word of command was given, stood motionless in a timid, dejected silence. The emperor, perceiving that he could not trust troops whose spirits were so much broken, retired abruptly to his quarters, complaining that he was now deserted by his soldiers, who deserved no longer the name of men.

Deeply as this behavior of his troops mortified and affected Charles, he would not hear of abandoning the siege, though he saw the necessity of changing the method of attack. He suspended the fury of his batteries, and proposed to proceed by the more secure but tedious method of sapping. But as it still continued to rain or to snow almost incessantly, such as were employed in this service endured incredible hardships: and the duke of Guise, whose industry was not inferior to his valor, discovering all their mines, counter-worked them, and prevented their effect. At last, Charles finding it impossible to contend any longer with the severity of the season, and with enemies whom he could neither overpower by force, nor subdue by art, while at the same time a contagious distemper raged among his troops, and cut off daily great numbers of the officers as well as soldiers, yielded to the solicitations of his generals, who conjured him to save the remains of his army by a timely retreat. "Fortune", says he, "I now perceive, resembles other females, and chooses to confer her favors on young men, while she turns her back on those who are advanced in years".

Upon this, he gave orders immediately to raise the siege [Dec. 26], and submitted to the disgrace of abandoning the enterprise, after having continued fifty-six days before the town, during which time he had lost upwards of thirty thousand men, who died of diseases, or were killed by the enemy. The duke of Guise, as soon as he perceived the intention of the Imperialists, sent out several bodies both of cavalry and infantry to infest their rear, to pick up stragglers, and to seize every opportunity of attacking thin with advantage. Such was the confusion with which they made their retreat, that the French might have harassed them in the most cruel manner. But when they sallied out, a spectacle presented itself to their view, which extinguished at once all hostile rage, and melted them into tenderness and compassion. The Imperial camp was filled with the sick and wounded, with the dead and the dying. In all the different roads by which the army retired, numbers were found, who, having made an effort to escape, beyond their strength, were left, when they could go no farther, to perish without assistance. This they received from their enemies, and were indebted to them for all the kind offices which their friends had not the power to perform. The duke of Guise immediately ordered proper refreshments for such as were dying of hunger; he appointed surgeons to attend the sick and wounded; he removed such as could bear it to the adjacent villages; and those who would have suffered by being carried so far, he admitted into the hospitals which he had fitted up in the city for his own soldiers. As soon as they recovered, he sent them home under an escort of soldiers, and with money to bear their charges. By these acts of humanity, which were uncommon in that age, when war was carried on with greater rancor and ferocity than at present, the duke of Guise completed the fame which he had acquired by his gallant and successful defence of Metz, and engaged those whom he had vanquished to vie with his own countrymen in extolling his name.

To these calamities in Germany, were added such unfortunate events in Italy as rendered this the most disastrous year in the emperor's life. During his residence at Villach, Charles had applied to Cosmo di Medici for the loan of two hundred thousand crowns. But his credit at that time was so low, that in order to obtain this inconsiderable sum, he was obliged to put him in possession of the principality of Piombino; and by giving up that, be lost the footing which he had hitherto maintained in Tuscany, and enabled Cosmo to assume, for the future, the tone and deportment of a prince altogether independent. Much about the time that his indigence constrained him to part with this valuable territory, he lost Sienna, which was of still greater consequence, through the ill conduct of Don Diego de Mendoza.

Sienna, like most of the great cities in Italy, had long enjoyed a republican government, under the protection of the empire; but being torn in pieces by the dissensions between the nobility and the people, which divided all the Italian commonwealths, the faction of the people, which gained the ascendant, besought the emperor to become the guardian of the administration which they had established, and admitted into their city a small body of Spanish soldiers, whom he had sent to countenance the execution of the laws, and to preserve tranquility among them. The command of these troops was given to Mendoza, at that time ambassador for the emperor at Rome, who persuaded the credulous multitude, that it was necessary for their security against any future attempt of the nobles, to allow him to build a citadel in Sienna; and as he flattered himself that by means of this fortress he might render the emperor roaster of the city, he pushed on the works with all possible dispatch. But he threw off the mask too soon. Before the fortifications were completed, he began to indulge his natural haughtiness and severity of temper, and to treat the citizens with great insolence. At the same time the soldiers in garrison being paid as irregularly as the emperor's troops usually were, lived almost at discretion upon the inhabitants, and were guilty of many acts of license and oppression.

These injuries awakened the Siennese to a sense of their danger. As they saw the necessity of exerting themselves, while the unfinished fortifications of the citadel left them any hopes of success, they applied to the French ambassador at Rome, who readily promised them his master's protection and assistance. At the same time, forgetting their domestic animosities when such a mortal blow was aimed at the liberty and existence of the republic, they sent agents to the exiled nobles, and invited them to concur with them in saving their country from the servitude with which it was threatened. As there was not a moment to lose, measures were concerted speedily, but with great prudence; and were executed with equal vigour. The citizens rose suddenly in arms: the exiles flocked into the town from different parts with all their partizans, and what troops they could draw together; and several bodies of mercenaries in the pay of France appeared to support them. The Spaniards, though surprised, and much inferior in number, defended themselves with great courage; but seeing no prospect of relief, and having no hopes of maintaining their station long in a half-finished fortress, they soon gave it up. The Siennese, with the utmost alacrity, leveled it with the ground, that no monument might remain of that odious structure, which had been raised in order to enslave them. At the same time renouncing all connection with the emperor, they sent ambassadors to thank the king of France as the restorer of their liberty, and to entreat that he would secure to them the perpetual enjoyment of that blessing, by continuing his protection to their republic.

To these misfortunes, one still more fatal had almost succeeded. The severe administration of Don Pedro de Toledo, viceroy of Naples, having tilled that kingdom with murmuring and disaffection, the prince of Salerno, the head of the malcontents, had fled to the court of France, where all who bore ill-will to the emperor or his ministers were sure of finding protection and assistance. That nobleman, in the usual style of exiles, boasting much of the number and power of his partisans, and of his great influence with them, prevailed on Henry to think of invading Naples, from an expectation of being joined by all those with whom the prince of Salerno held correspondence, or who were dissatisfied with Toledo's government. But though the first hint of this enterprise was suggested by the prince of Salerno, Henry did not choose that its success should entirely depend upon his being able to fulfill the promises which he had made. He applied for aid to Solyman, whom he courted, after his father's example, as his most vigorous auxiliary against the emperor, and solicited him to second his operations, by sending a powerful fleet into the Mediterranean. It was not difficult to obtain what he requested of the sultan, who, at this time, was highly incensed against the house of Austria, on account of the proceedings in Hungary. He ordered a hundred and fifty ships to be equipped, that they might sail towards the coast of Naples, at whatever time Henry should name, and might co-operate with the French troops in their attempts upon that kingdom. The command of this fleet was given to the corsair Dragut, an officer trained up under Barbarossa, and scarcely inferior to his master in courage, in talents, or in good fortune. He appeared on the coast of Calabria at the time which had been agreed on, landed at several places, plundered and burnt several villages; and at last, casting anchor in the bay of Naples, filled that city with consternation. But as the French fleet, detained by some accident, which the contemporary historians have not explained, did not join the Turks according to concert, they, after waiting twenty days without hearing any tidings of it, set sail for Constantinople, and thus delivered the viceroy of Naples from the terror of an invasion, which he was not in a condition to have resisted.