manifestly dishonourable 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 leave 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 Montmo rency, 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 honour 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 Rome, he left to the cardinal Tournon the dif ficult 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

* Mem. de Ribier, ii. 626. Corps Diplom. tom. iv. App. 81.

† One of admiral de Coligny's attendants, who wrote the court of France an account of what happened while they resided at Brussels, takes notice, as an instance of Philip's unpoliteness, that he received the French ambassador in an apartment hung with tapestry, which represented the battle of Pavia, the manner in which Francis I. was taken prisoner, his voyage to Spain, with all the mortifying circumstances of his captivity and imprisonment at Madrid. Mem. de Ribier, ii. 634.

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 favourable opportunity of setting on foot a negotiation for that purpose, and offered, as their common father, to be mediator between thein. 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 endeavours 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, be 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 Hower of the veteran Spanish bands 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, unpractised 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 consi derable 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 century, and the chief motive of all their expeditions into Italy.

July 31.] Every word Caraffa spoke made a deep impression on Henry;

• Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 169. Burnet list. of Reform. ii. App. 399

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 off 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 duke dom 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 nad 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 arins 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.f

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 valour 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 Romana; 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 succours 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,

• Pallav. lib. xiii. 171. ↑ Ferrer. Hist. de Espagne, ix. 373. Herrera, i. 308.

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.*

BOOK XII.

WHILE these operations or intrigues kept the pope and Philip busy and attentive, the emperor disentangled himself finally from all the affairs of this world, and set out for the place of his retreat. He had hitherto retained the Imperial dignity, not from any unwillingness to relinquish it, for, after having resigned the real and extensive authority that he enjoyed in his hereditary dominions, to part with the limited and often ideal jurisdiction which belongs to an elective crown, was no great sacrifice. His sole motive for delay was to gain a few months, for making one trial more in order to accomplish his favourite scheme in behalf of his son. At the very time Charles seemed to be most sensible of the vanity of worldly grandeur, and when he appeared to be quitting it not only with indifference, but with contempt, the vast schemes of ambition, which had so long occupied and engrossed his mind, still kept possession of it. He could not think of leaving his son in a rank inferior to that which he himself had held among the princes of Europe. As he had, some years before, made a fruitless attempt to secure the Imperial crown to Philip, that by uniting it to the kingdoms of Spain, and the dominions of the house of Burgundy, he might put it in his power to prosecute, with a better prospect of success, those great plans, which his own infirmities had obliged him to aban don, he was still unwilling to relinquish this flattering project as chimerical or unattainable.

Notwithstanding the repulse which he had formerly met with from his brother Ferdinand, he renewed his solicitations with fresh importunity; and, during the summer, had tried every art, and employed every argument, which he thought could induce him to quit the Imperial throne to Philip, and to accept of the investiture of some province, either in Italy, or in the Low-Countries, as an equivalent. But Ferdinand, who was so firm and inflexible with regard to this point, that he had paid no regard to the solicitations of the emperor, even when they were enforced with all the weight of authority which accompanies supreme power, received the overture that now came from him in the situation to which he had descended, with greater indifference, and would hardly deign to listen to it. Charles, ashamed of his own credulity in having imagined that he might accomplish that now, which he attempted formerly without success, desisted finally from his scheme. He then resigned the government of the empire, and having transferred all his claims of obedience and allegiance from the Germanic body, to his brother the king of the Romans, he executed a deed

* Pallav. lib. xiii. 177. Thuan. lib. xvii. 588. Mem. de Ribier. ii 664. 1 Ambassades des Noailles, tom. v. 356.