Philip the Second

A few weeks after this transaction, Charles, in an assembly no less splendid, and with a ceremonial equally pompous, resigned to his son the crowns of Spain, with all the territories depending on them, both in the old and in the new world. Of all these vast possessions, he reserved nothing for himself but an annual pension of a hundred thousand crowns, to defray the charges of his family, and to afford him a small sum for acts of beneficence and charity.

As he had fixed on a place of retreat in Spain, hoping that the dryness of the air and the warmth of the climate in that country might mitigate the violence of his disease, which had been much increased by the moisture of the air and the rigor of the winters in the Netherlands, he was extremely impatient to embark for that kingdom, and to disengage himself entirely from business, which he found to be impossible while he remained in Brussels. But his physicians remonstrated so strongly against his venturing to sea at that cold and boisterous season of the year, that he consented, though with reluctance, to put off his voyage for some months.

By yielding to their entreaties, he had the satisfaction, before he left the Low-Countries, of taking a considerable step towards a peace with France, which he ardently wished for, not only on his son's account, but that he might have the merit, when quitting the world, of re-establishing that tranquility in Europe, which he had banished out of it almost from the time that he had assumed the administration of affairs. Previous to his resignation, commissioners had been appointed by him and by the French king, in order to treat of an exchange of prisoners. In their conference at the Abbey of Vaucelles, near Cambray, an expedient was accidentally proposed for terminating hostilities between the contending monarchs, by a long truce, during the subsistence of which, and without discussing their respective claims, each should retain what was now in his possession. Charles, sensible how much his kingdoms were exhausted by the expensive and almost continual wars in which his ambition had engaged him, and eager to gain for his son a short interval of peace. that he might establish himself firmly on his throne, declared warmly for closing with the overture, though manifestly dishonorable as well as disadvantageous; and such was the respect due to his wisdom and experience, that Philip, notwithstanding his unwillingness to purchase peace by such concessions, did not presume to urge his opinion in opposition to that of his father.

Henry could not have hesitated one moment about giving his consent to a truce on such conditions, as would lease him in quiet possession of the greater part of the duke of Savoy's dominions, together with the important conquests which he had made on the German frontier. But it was no easy matter to reconcile such a step with the engagements which he had come under to the pope in his late treaty with him. The constable Montmorency, however, represented in such a striking light the imprudence of sacrificing the true interests of his kingdom to these rash obligations, and took such advantage of the absence of the cardinal of Lorrain, who had seduced the king into his alliance with the Caraffas, that Henry, who was naturally fluctuating and unsteady, and apt to be influenced by the advice last given him, authorized his ambassadors [5th Feb.] to sign a treaty of truce with the emperor for five years, on the terms which had been promised. But that he might not seem to have altogether forgotten his ally the pope, who, he foresaw, would be highly exasperated, he, in order to soothe him, took care that he should be expressly included in the truce.

The count of Lalain repaired to Blois, and the admiral Coligny to Brussels, the former to be present when the king of France, and the latter when the emperor and his son ratified the treaty and bound themselves by oath to observe it.

When an account of the conference at Vaucelles, and of the conditions of truce which had been proposed there, were first carried to Rome, it gave the pope no manner of disquiet. He trusted so much to the honor of the French monarch, that he would not allow himself to think that Henry could forget so soon, or violate so shamefully, all the stipulations in his league with him. He had such a high opinion of the emperor's wisdom, that he made no doubt of his refusing his consent to a truce, on such unequal terms: and on both these accounts he confidently pronounced that this, like many preceding negotiations, would terminate in nothing. But later and more certain intelligence soon convinced him that no reasoning in political affairs is more fallacious, than, because an event is improbable, to conclude that it will not happen. The sudden and unexpected conclusion of the truce filled Paul with astonishment and terror. The cardinal of Lorrain durst not encounter that storm of indignation, to which he knew that he should be exposed from the haughty pontiff, who had so good reason to be incensed; but departing abruptly from Romee, he left to the cardinal Tournon the difficult task of attempting to soothe Paul and his nephews. They were fully sensible of the perilous situation in which they now stood. By their engagements with France, which were no longer secret, they had highly irritated Philip. They dreaded the violence of his implacable temper. The duke of Alva, a minister fitted, as well by his abilities as by the severity of his nature, for executing all Philip's rigorous schemes, had advanced from Milan to Naples, and began to assemble troops on the frontiers of the ecclesiastical state: while they, if deserted by France, must not only relinquish all the hopes of dominion and sovereignty to which their ambition aspired, but remained exposed to the resentment of the Spanish monarch, without one ally to protect them against an enemy with whom they were so little able to contend.

Under these circumstances, Paul had recourse to the arts of negotiation and intrigue, of which the papal court knows well how to avail itself in order to ward off any calamity threatened by an enemy superior in power. He affected to approve highly of the truce, as a happy expedient for putting a stop to the effusion of Christian blood. He expressed his warmest wishes that it might prove the forerunner of a definitive peace. He exhorted the rival princes to embrace this favorable opportunity of setting on foot a negotiation for that purpose, and offered, as their common father, to be mediator between them. Under this pretext, he appointed cardinal Rebiba his nuncio to the court of Brussels, and his nephew cardinal Caraffa to that of Paris. The public instructions given to both were the same; that they should use their utmost endeavors to prevail with the two monarchs to accept of the pope's mediation, that, by means of it, peace might be re-established, and measures might be taken for assembling a general council. But under this specious appearance of zeal for attaining objects so desirable in themselves, and so becoming his sacred character to pursue, Paul concealed very different intentions. Caraffa, besides his public instructions, received a private commission to solicit the French king to renounce the treaty of truce, and to renew his engagements with the holy see; and he was empowered to spare neither entreaties, nor promises, nor bribes, in order to gain that point. This, both the uncle and the nephew considered as the real end of the embassy; while the other served to amuse the vulgar, or to deceive the emperor and his son. The cardinal, accordingly, set out instantly for Paris [11th March], and travelled with the greatest expedition, while Rebiba was detained some weeks at Rome; and when it became necessary for him to begin his journey, he received secret orders to protract it as much as possible, that the issue of Caraffa's negotiation might be known before he might reach Brussels, and according to that, proper directions might be given to him with regard to the tone which he should assume, in treating with the emperor and his son.

Caraffa made his entrance into Paris with extraordinary pomp: and having presented a consecrated sword to Henry, as the protector on whose aid the pope relied in the present exigency, he besought him not to disregard the entreaties of a parent in distress, but to employ that weapon which he gave him in his defence. This he represented not only as a duty of filial piety, but as an act of justice. As the pope, from confidence in the assistance and support which his late treaty with France entitled him to expect, had taken such steps as had irritated the king of Spain, he conjured Henry not to suffer Paul and his family to be crushed under the weight of that resentment which they had drawn on themselves merely by their attachment to France. Together with this argument addressed to his generosity, he employed another which he hoped would work on his ambition. He affirmed that now was the time, when, with the most certain prospect of success, he might attack Philip's dominions in Italy; that the flower of the veteran Spanish hands had perished in the wars of Hungary, Germany, and the Low-Countries; that the emperor had left his son an exhausted treasury, and kingdoms drained of men; that he had no longer to contend with the abilities, the experience, and good fortune of Charles, but with a monarch scarcely seated on his throne, unpracticed in command, odious to many of the Italian States, and dreaded by all. He promised that the pope, who had already levied soldiers, would bring a considerable army into the field, which, when joined by a sufficient number of French troops, might, by one brisk and sudden effort, drive the Spaniards out of Naples, and add to the crown of France a kingdom, the conquest of which had been the great object of all his predecessors during half a cen­tuq, and the chief motive of all their expeditions into Italy.

July 31.] Every word Caraffa spoke made a deep impression on Henry; conscious on the one hand, that the pope had just cause to reproach him with having violated the laws not only of generosity but of decency, when he renounced his league with him, and had agreed to the truce of Vaucelles; and eager on the other hand, not only to distinguish his reign by a conquest which three former monarchs had attempted without success, but likewise to acquire an establishment of such dignity and value for one of his sons. Reverence, however, for the oath, by which he had so lately confirmed the truce of Vaucelles; the extreme old age of the pope, whose death might occasion an entire revolution in the political system of Italy; together with the representations of Montmorency, who repeated all the arguments he had used against the first league with Paul, and pointed out the great and immediate advantages which France derived from the truce; kept Henry for some time in suspense, and might possibly have outweighed all Caraffa's arguments. But the cardinal was not such a novice in the arts of intrigue and negotiation, as not to have expedients ready for removing or surmounting all these obstacles. To obviate the king's scruple with regard to his oath, he produced powers from the pope, to absolve him from the obligation of it. By way of security against any danger which he might apprehend from the pope's death, he engaged that his uncle would make such a nomination of cardinals, as should give Henry the absolute command of the next election, and enable him to place in the papal chair a person entirely devoted to his interest.

In order to counterbalance the effect of the constable's opinion and influence, he employed not only the active talents of the duke of Guise, and the eloquence of his brother the cardinal of Lorrain, but the address of the queen, aided by the more powerful arts of Diana of Poitiers, who, unfortunately for France, co-operated with Catherine in this point, though she took pleasure, on almost every other occasion, to thwart and mortify her. They, by their united solicitations, easily swayed the king, who leaned, of his own accord, to that side towards which they wished him to incline. All Montmorency's prudent remonstrances were disregarded; the nuncio absolved Henry from his oath; and he signed a new league with the pope, which rekindled the flames of war both in Italy and in the Low-Countries.

As soon as Paul was informed by his nephew that there was a fair prospect of succeeding in this negotiation, he despatched a messenger after the nuncio Rebiba [July 31], with orders to return to Rome, without proceeding to Brussels. As it was now no longer necessary to preserve that tone of moderation, which suited the character of a mediator, and which he had affected to assume, or to put any farther restraint upon his resentment against Philip, he boldly threw of the mask, and took such violent steps as rendered a rupture unavoidable. He seized and imprisoned the Spanish envoy at his court. He excommunicated the Colonnas; and having deprived Mark Antonio, the head of that family, of the dukedom of Paliano, he granted that dignity, together with the territory annexed to it, to his nephew the count of Montorio. He ordered a legal information to be presented in the consistory of cardinals against Philip, setting forth that he, notwithstanding the fidelity and allegiance due by him to the holy see, of which he held the kingdom of Naples, had not only afforded a retreat in his dominions to the Colonnas, whom the pope had excommunicated and declared rebels, but had furnished them with arms, and was ready in conjunction with them, to invade the ecclesiastical state in a hostile manner; that such conduct in a vassal was to be deemed treason against his liege lord, the punishment of which was the forfeiture of his fief. Upon this, the consistorial advocate requested the pope to take cognizance of the cause, and to appoint a day for hearing of it, when he would make good every article of the charge, and expect from his justice that sentence which the heinousness of Philip's crimes merited. Paul, whose pride was highly flattered with the idea of trying and passing judgment on so great a king, assented to his request [July 27], and as if it had been no less easy to execute than to pronounce such a sentence, declared that he would consult with the cardinals concerning the formalities requisite in conducting the trial.

But while Paul allowed his pride and resentment to drive him on with such headlong impetuosity, Philip discovered an amazing moderation on his part. He had been taught by the Spanish ecclesiastics, who had the charge of his education, a profound veneration for the holy see. This sentiment, which had been early infused, grew up with him as he advanced in years, and took full possession of his mind, which was naturally thoughtful, serious, and prone to superstition. When he foresaw a rupture with the pope approaching, he had such violent scruples with respect to the lawfulness of taking arms against the vicegerent of Christ, and the common father of all Christians, that he consulted some Spanish divines upon that point. They, with the usual dexterity of casuists in accommodating their responses to the circumstances of those who apply to them for direction, assured him that, after employing prayers and remonstrances in order to bring the pope to reason, he had full right, both by the laws of nature and of Christianity, not only to defend himself when attacked, but to begin hostilities, if that were judged the most proper expedient for preventing the effects of Paul's violence and injustice. Philip, nevertheless, continued to deliberate and delay, considering it as a most cruel misfortune, that his administration should open with an attack on a person, whose sacred function and character he so highly respected.

At last the duke of Alva, who, in compliance with his master's scruples, had continued to negotiate long after he should have begun to act, finding Paul inexorable, and that every overture of peace, and every appearance of hesitation on his part, increased the pontiff's natural arrogance, took the field [Sept. 5] and entered the ecclesiastical territories. His army did not exceed twelve thousand men, but it was composed of veteran soldiers, and commanded chiefly by those Roman barons, whom Paul's violence had driven into exile. The valor of the troops, together with the animosity of their leaders, who fought in their own quarrel, and to recover their own estates, supplied the want of numbers. As none of the French forces were yet arrived, Alva soon became master of the Campagna Romans; some cities being surrendered through the cowardice of the garrisons, which consisted of raw soldiers, ill disciplined, and worse commanded; the gates of others being opened by the inhabitants, who were eager to receive back their ancient masters. Alva, that he might not be taxed with impiety in seizing the patrimony of the church, took possession of the towns which capitulated, in the name of the college of cardinals, to which, or to the pope that should be chosen to succeed Paul, he declared that he would immediately restore them.

The rapid progress of the Spaniards, whose light troops made excursions even to the gates of Rome, filled that city with consternation. Paul, though inflexible and undaunted himself, was obliged to give way so far to the fears and solicitations of the cardinals, as to send deputies to Alva in order to propose a cessation of arms. The pope yielded the more readily, as he was sensible of a double advantage which might be derived from obtaining that point. It would deliver the inhabitants of Rome from their present terror, and would afford time for the arrival of the succors which he expected from France. Nor was Alva unwilling to close with the overture, both as he knew how desirous his master was to terminate a war, which he had undertaken with reluctance, and as his army was so much weakened by garrisoning the great number of towns which he had reduced, that it was hardly in a condition to keep the field without fresh recruits. A truce was accordingly concluded [Nov. 19], first for ten, and afterwards for forty days, during which, various schemes of peace were proposed, and perpetual negotiations were carried on, but with no sincerity on the part of the pope. The return of his nephew the cardinal to Rome, the receipt of a considerable sum remitted by the king of France, the arrival of one body of French troops, together with the expectation of others which had begun their march, rendered him more arrogant than ever, and banished all thoughts from his mind, but those of war and revenge.