§ 2 From the Diet of Augsburg to the Peace of Augsburg
Diet of Augsburg. Sept. 1547 to June 1548.
When on September 1, 1547, Charles met his Diet at Augsburg, he seemed at last about to realise his dream of re-establishing the unity of the Church. All his opponents were either defeated or had come to terms, and all had agreed to accept the decisions of a General Council. The Diet unanimously declared itself to the same effect, and demanded that the Council should be recalled to Trent. The Chamber of the Princes further insisted that the decisions already published by the Council should be reconsidered. The lay Electors held that Scripture should be the only authority on matters of dogma, and wished for reform of the Church in ‘Head, and members’; the deputies from the imperial cities requested that the Council should be composed of learned men of all orders. Some desired that the Council should be under the presidency of the Emperor, and although this was not demanded by the whole Diet, nothing was said of the necessity of papal approval.
Renewed quarrel between Pope and Emperor.
The Interim. May 19, 1548.
The Emperor, armed with this support, requested Paul to recall the Council from Bologna to Trent. He expressly stated that he did not approve of all that had been said against the papal authority, but urged the Pope to take advantage of this unlooked-for submission on the part of Germany. It cannot be denied that a serious question of principle was involved in this request. Although the Emperor did not definitely claim the right of presidency, yet the demand that the Council should return to Trent, where still some of the Spanish and Neapolitan bishops remained, practically assumed that the Council at Bologna was no true Council. Compliance with the demand of Charles would have emphasised the control of the temporal over the spiritual power, and dealt a blow at the independence of the Church, which claimed to be guided by the Holy Spirit. And yet if the Pope had really been in complete harmony with the Emperor on other matters, one of the many compromises which were suggested could probably have been carried out by the clever diplomacy of Mendoza, the imperial ambassador at Rome. Unfortunately, the affairs of Italy once more stood in the way of that reconciliation between Pope and Emperor which was so desirable for the welfare of the Church. On September 10 Pierluigi Farnese, to whom his father Paul had granted Parma and Piacenza, fell a victim to a conspiracy. He had been the centre of anti-imperialist intrigues during the winter and spring of 1546–1547; and Gonzaga, the imperial governor at Milan, who, with the consent of the Emperor, had supported the conspiracy though not the assassination, forthwith occupied Piacenza, ostensibly to preserve the peace, but really in pursuit of ambitious views of extending the imperial authority in north Italy. The angry Pope at once entered into negotiations with Henry II. of France. He was even heard to say that he would call hell itself to avenge him of his enemy. At the same time the prelates at Bologna, influenced, it must be allowed, by more worthy motives, replied to the Emperor’s demand by summoning those ecclesiastics who had remained at Trent to join them at Bologna, whereby they might show that Germany meant to obey the Council. Charles might now have attempted to form a Council of his own at Trent; but he was too good a Catholic to think of starting a schism. Declaring therefore that he must take measures for the protection of that Church which the Pope neglected, he determined to settle matters in his own way. His confessor, Pedro de Soto, suggested that he should forbid all Lutheran preaching, insist on the restoration of secularised property, and of the Catholic ritual, and then leave every one to think as he pleased. But this, said Ferdinand, would require another war. The Emperor therefore fell back on the suggestion of his brother, that he should try to find some ground of union in Germany independently of the Pope. The Interim followed, a document drawn up by theologians from both sides, and accepted without debate by the Diet, May 19. It affirmed that ‘There is but one Church, of which the Pope is chief Bishop; but the power lies in the Church under the guardianship of the Holy Spirit, rather than in the Pope.’ While insisting on the seven Sacraments in the Catholic sense, it agreed to the doctrine of Justification by Faith in somewhat vague terms, and declared that the questions of the celibacy of the clergy and of the Communion in both kinds should be left undecided until the calling of the future free Christian Council. It must not be supposed that Charles intended this settlement to be permanent; he only looked on it as a temporary measure which might entice the Protestants back to obedience to the Church and to the Empire. Nevertheless, had the whole Empire, Catholic and Protestant, accepted the Interim, a decided step would have been taken towards the establishment of a national Church under the control of the Emperor rather than of the Pope. Any such result as this was, however, prevented by the refusal of the Catholics to acknowledge the Interim as binding on them in their dealings with their subjects, and the only question was, how far Charles would be successful with the Protestants.
The attempts of Charles to re-establish his authority were not confined to the ecclesiastical sphere. He had also approached the Diet with schemes for strengthening the imperial power. He did not succeed in obtaining all he wished. His desire to revive, and, if possible, extend the organisation of the Suabian League (which had died out of late), though approved of by the smaller Princes, was resolutely opposed by many of the larger, even Maurice himself, and had to be abandoned. Nevertheless Charles gained much. He was allowed to nominate, for this term, the assessors to the Imperial Chamber, so long as they were Catholics, and was granted ‘a Roman month,’ as a fund for future contingencies. He also obtained his aim with respect to the Netherlands, which were now definitely organised as one of the Circles of the Empire, were put under imperial protection, and were to contribute to imperial taxation. But while in this way Charles hoped to gain for these hereditary possessions the support of the Empire, yet they were to retain their own privileges; and though their ruler was to have a seat in the Diet, they were to be free from its control, and from the jurisdiction of the Imperial Chamber. In June, 1548, the Diet was dismissed, and Charles proceeded to enforce the Interim on the Protestants. In the south, where the events of the previous year had made him master, he was able, partly by expelling the Lutheran preachers, partly by revolutionising the town councils, partly by means of his Spanish soldiery, to secure obedience. In the north, he had more difficulty. But even there, except in the case of Magdeburg and a few imperial towns, he eventually obtained a general assent to a modified form of the Interim, drawn up by Melanchthon, and termed the ‘Leipsic Interim.’
The death of Paul in Nov. 1549, and the election of Julius III., strengthen the position of Charles.
Second Session of Diet of Augsburg. July 1550.
In November 1549, the position of the Emperor was much strengthened by the death of Paul III. That Pope, in the vain hope of prevailing on the Emperor to free Parma and Piacenza from their dependence on Milan, had assumed for a moment a conciliatory attitude, and spoke of confirming the Interim, and recalling the Council to Trent. Many at Rome thought these concessions dangerous and opposed such a policy, and on Charles’ refusal to comply with his demands with respect to Parma and Piacenza, the Pope had declared them annexed to the papal see and turned to France for aid. His death, therefore, was welcome news to Charles, more especially as Cardinal Monte, who succeeded as Julius III. in February 1550, contrary to all expectations, declared for the imperialists. He promised to recall the Council to Trent, to consider the question of internal reform, and to come to terms with regard to the Interim. Fortified by this unwonted alliance Charles found little difficulty in influencing the Diet (which was re-summoned to Augsburg in July), to submit to the Council of Trent; the Protestants even undertaking to appear there and plead their cause.
Charles’ dynastic ideas.
The success of his ecclesiastical policy now enabled Charles to return to his darling idea of establishing the hereditary rule of the Hapsburgs over the Empire of the West. But of this Empire the centre was to be, not Germany, but Spain and Italy, and its representative after his death, not his brother Ferdinand, but his son Philip. The plan, long cherished, had been steadily pursued. In 1540, Philip had been recognised as Duke of Milan. When Charles left Spain in 1543, he had intrusted the government to his son, although then only sixteen years old. In 1548, he had sent for Philip that he might become known in Germany, and had, though with difficulty, obtained for him an oath of allegiance from the Netherlands. Meanwhile, an intimate correspondence between the two had completely imbued Philip with his father’s ideas. The Emperor now hoped to complete his scheme by securing for his son the succession to the Empire. He had originally intended to bring the subject before the Diet; but it was necessary first to overcome the not unnatural opposition of Ferdinand. After much difficulty, a compromise was arrived at between the two brothers (March 9). It was agreed that on the death of Charles, Ferdinand was to be Emperor; he was, however, to make Philip imperial vicar, and support his election as King of the Romans. Philip, on his part, promised to do the same for Maximilian, the son of Ferdinand, when he himself should ascend the imperial throne. Charles, though he had not obtained all that he wanted—for the Empire was to be shared in turn between the two branches of the family—had to all appearance won over Ferdinand to his scheme of a future union of the Empire with the Spanish monarchy of Philip. But, as a fact, he had excited the jealousy of Ferdinand, who intrigued with the Electors to defeat the plan which he had promised to further, and henceforth ceased to support his brother as he had hitherto done. The family quarrel thus aroused was shortly to cost Charles dear.
Renewed quarrels with the Pope concerning the Council of Trent. Sept. 1551 to April 1552.
When, in November 1551, Charles went to Innsbruck that he might watch over the Council which had reassembled at Trent in September, he might well think that he had won; the unity of the Church seemed about to be re-established, and the imperial power to be revived, based on the support of the Spanish monarchy. The next few months were, however, to see this hope dispelled. The failure of the Council was to prove the impracticability of his ecclesiastical policy; the European opposition, to ruin his scheme of political supremacy. From the friendship of the Pope and the recalling of the Council to Trent, Charles had anticipated great things. A statesman rather than a theologian, he did not appreciate the difficulties which surrounded the question of dogma, nor those which concerned the independence of the Church as an organisation of divine institution. Although severely orthodox himself, he did not see the necessity for further definition of doctrine, and, above all, wished nothing to be done that might irritate the Protestants, until the Council had approached the question of reform. The abuses of the Church he knew had been the primary cause of the Lutheran revolt, and a genuine reform of these would, he believed, enable him successfully to overcome all further opposition in Germany. He accordingly supported the demand of the Protestants that they should be heard, and that the decisions of the last session should be reconsidered, while he urged Julius to deal forthwith with the question of reform. It was not to be expected that this policy would find favour among the more orthodox, still less with the Pope. When at last, in January 1552, the Protestants, having extorted a promise of safe-conduct, appeared at the Council, it at once became clear that an accommodation was impossible, either on the question of dogma, or of the constitution of the Council, or even of the form of procedure. The demands of the Reformers that Scripture should be the only standard of truth, that laymen should have a vote, and that the Pope should claim no right of presidency nor of veto, ‘since a Council was superior to a Pope,’ seemed to the orthodox both godless and insolent; and Julius was determined to resist this serious attack on the papal position. Nor were the demands of Charles and his Spanish bishops any more palatable. The Emperor’s idea of reform was based on the ecclesiastical organisation of Spain. There the crown was served by a church, the discipline of which had been reformed by Ximenes, and which could be used as a weapon for extending royal authority, and even for checking papal pretensions. The request more especially that bishops should be resident and that the Pope should resign the right of collation to all benefices was stoutly resisted by Julius; ‘rather than suffer that, we will suffer all misfortune,’ he said. The Papal court subsisted on foreign benefices since the Italian bishoprics were poor, and the independence of national churches would destroy the Papal power. The Pope, moreover, was disturbed at the refusal of Henry II. to acknowledge the Council or to allow French bishops to attend it, and by that King’s preparations for renewing the war in Italy. Evidently nothing was to be expected of the Council. It had only served to illustrate the conflicting interests of the Pope and Emperor, and the hopelessness of all reconciliation with the Protestants. Under these circumstances it was soon abandoned by the German bishops, and dragged on until the course of events in Germany caused its second suspension (April 28, 1552).
Failure of Charles’ political schemes.
While Charles’ ecclesiastical policy was thus breaking down, the whole fabric of his political scheme, of which his ecclesiastical views were but a part, was tumbling into ruins. Although Henry II. of France had viewed with apprehension the growing pretensions of Charles, he had not yet felt strong enough for active opposition. In the summer of 1551, however, hostilities broke out in Italy over the interminable question of Parma and Piacenza, in which Henry II. supported the cause of Ottavio Farnese. But Charles had no money to send to Gonzaga; Julius III. was most anxious to keep matters quiet; and Henry, on the point of invading Germany, consented to a truce (April 1552), by which Ottavio was to be left in possession of Parma for two years.
Interference of Henry II. in Italy and in Germany. 1551–1552.
Discontent against Charles in Germany.
Henry II. rightly judged that the issue must be fought out in the north. Here the indignation against the Spanish rule and policy of Charles had been growing fast. The Interim had never been popular even with the Catholic princes; it had been passed without the consent of the Church, and the concessions to the Lutherans were considered a dangerous compromise with heresy. The Protestants looked upon many of its clauses as popish, and resented the tyrannical means by which they had been enforced. Above all, Charles’ behaviour to the Landgrave irritated all; not only did Charles keep him a prisoner, he forced him to follow him in his progresses, and treated him with open contempt. Indeed, Charles’ conduct had changed. The certainty of success made him abandon all idea of conciliation, and, tortured by gout and other ailments, he became more irritable, more dictatorial, and more overbearing than he had ever been before.
Maurice’s intrigues with the Protestants.
Already in February 1550, John of Custrin and Albert Alcibiades of Culmbach had formed a defensive league to protect their common interests, and had decided to approach the French King. Meanwhile, the relations between the Emperor and Maurice were daily becoming more strained. The victory of Mühlberg won, Charles was most unwilling to make Maurice too strong, and accordingly had hesitated to fulfil his promises. The right of protection over Magdeburg and Halberstadt was not granted; the representatives of John Frederick were not forced to acknowledge their new master; and the Emperor had been heard to say that in John Frederick ‘he had a bear which he could let loose against Maurice.’ On the other hand, the young Elector found that his position among the Protestants and in his own dominions was daily becoming more difficult. The unpopularity of the Emperor was transferred to him; the treatment of the Landgrave was laid at his door; he was looked upon as the arch-traitor who had ruined the Protestant cause; and schemes were on foot of driving him from his ill-gotten possessions by the aid of France. Maurice began to fear that his new-won Electorate might be torn from him either by the Emperor, or by the Protestant Princes. Apart from these personal motives, which were strong, it cannot be denied that Maurice also thought of the cause of Protestantism, which would be seriously endangered if Charles should become completely master. The interests therefore of Maurice’s co-religionists, as well as his own, urged him to offer his alliance to the Princes on condition that they would guarantee him the peaceful possession of his newly-won territories. Accordingly, since the spring of 1550, he had been making advances. None the less, the Protestant Princes not unnaturally suspected him, more especially as Charles had intrusted him with the enforcement of the Interim on the city of Magdeburg. It was not therefore till February 20, 1551, that Maurice was able to allay the apprehensions of the Protestants. He then convinced them that the expedition against the city was only intended to lull the suspicions of Charles; he promised them that the religion of the inhabitants should be in no way interfered with, and that he would be true to the Protestant cause. By two treaties (February and May, 1551), the Princes agreed to unite in common defence of the Protestant religion and the liberties of Germany, and Maurice was secured in his Electorate against all claims of the Ernestine branch.
Magdeburg surrenders to Maurice. Nov. 1551.
The siege of Magdeburg was now continued. In November, 1551, the city surrendered. The citizens promised to implore the pardon of the Emperor, to pay a fine, and to conform to the Interim. At the same time they received secret assurances from Maurice that they should not be deprived of their privileges, nor disturbed in the exercise of their religion. Further, they elected Maurice as their Burgrave, a title generally held by the electoral house of Saxony, which gave him considerable jurisdiction over the city and its dependencies.
Treaty of Friedwald. Jan. 1552.
Meanwhile, the question had been debated whether the League should remain a defensive one, and be confined to Germany, or whether it should look for help from outside. Maurice held that if the Protestants were to win they must gain the aid of France. In spite of the opposition of John of Custrin, who refused to go so far, the advice of Maurice was followed, and negotiations were commenced in October, 1551, which led, in January, 1552, to the Treaty of Friedwald. Henry II. had the effrontery to request that the religious affairs of Germany should be placed under his protection; but this the Protestants refused to grant to the persecutor of their co-religionists at home, and no mention of the religious questions was made in the treaty. Henry II. promised to assist in obtaining the release of the Landgrave from prison, and in defending the liberties of Germany. The price of the French King was high. He was empowered to occupy, as Vicar of the Empire, Cambray, Metz, Toul, and Verdun—with reservation, however, of the imperial sovereignty—and the Princes promised at the next vacancy of the Empire to support his candidature, or that of some one agreeable to him. The cession of the three bishoprics of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, which dominated Lorraine, has been often and severely blamed. But we should at least remember that French was the common language of these districts, that the sentiment of German nationality, never very strong, had been weakened by the struggles of the Reformation, and that the French alliance was necessary, if Charles was to be successfully resisted in his attempt to subjugate Germany to a foreign Spanish rule. Maurice, however, did not rest satisfied with the French alliance. Ferdinand had gained from him a pledge that he would resist the plan of Charles with regard to the succession to the Empire. The friendly terms which were thus established Maurice turned to good account, and, by assuring Ferdinand that no attack should be made on him, secured himself against active hostility on the part of the Austrian prince.
Maurice declares himself, and marches south, March 18. Henry II. invades Lorraine.
While Maurice had been raising this formidable coalition against the Emperor, the relations between the two had been strictly amicable. Yet it is a mistake to suppose that Charles remained in ignorance of what was going forward. At this moment, however, Charles was ill, and in one of his fits of irresolution and lassitude. Dazzled, moreover, by the success of his policy since the battle of Mühlberg, he thought too lightly of the conspiracy, and hoped to deal with his opponents as he had done in 1546. He believed that he could either win over Maurice by further concessions, or ruin him by freeing John Frederick, and restoring to him his electoral dominions. The Emperor did not understand how circumstances had changed since 1546; he did not realise how unpopular his Spanish rule, his highhandedness, and his succession scheme had become in Germany, even with his brother Ferdinand; he omitted the French alliance in his calculations; finally, he mistook the man with whom he had to deal. With all his ambition Maurice really cared for the cause of Protestantism, and was determined to protect his subjects in their religion. It was improbable that he would ever have sacrificed that to any personal gains. Charles also forgot that he had taught a lesson in diplomatic tactics, which his pupil had learnt too well; a master of diplomacy himself, he was fairly beaten by this young man of thirty. Maurice to the last kept up appearances; he even pretended compliance with the Emperor’s request that he would come to Innsbruck to discuss the situation. Then suddenly gathering his army, which he had held together since the siege of Magdeburg, he marched southward (March 18), and was joined by the young William of Hesse at Bischofsheim. At the same moment Henry II. invaded Lorraine. The French King declared he came to protect German liberty, and the Princes issued a manifesto in which they denounced ‘the infamy and unreasonableness of the imprisonment of the Landgrave,’ and ‘the foreign beastly (viehische) hereditary servitude,’ religious and political, which Charles had attempted to force on Germany. At Rothenburg, Maurice was joined by Albert Alcibiades of Culmbach, and advanced to Augsburg, ‘the watch-tower of the imperial power,’ which was hastily evacuated by the imperial garrison.
Conference at Linz. April 18.
Flight of Charles to Villach.
It was now that Ferdinand assumed that attitude which was the outcome of his jealousy of Charles, and of his earlier negotiations with Maurice,Policy of Ferdinand. an attitude which he was to maintain until the final abdication of his brother. Anxious to protect his own interests and those of his House, Ferdinand proposed to intervene as mediator; to come to terms with the Protestants, and, with a united Germany at his back, defeat the succession scheme of Charles, and turn upon the Turk. Accordingly he induced Maurice to hold a conference at Linz, April 18, at which they agreed upon the general terms of the future peace, and Maurice consented to a suspension of arms on May 26, when negotiations should be resumed at Passau. Charles had authorised his brother to negotiate, hoping thereby to gain time, but the results of the conference were not entirely to his mind, and Maurice had once more gained a diplomatic victory. The neutrality of Ferdinand was practically secured; while Maurice had time to act before the 26th. Marching on the Ehrenberg, he secured the castle which commanded the pass to Innsbruck, where the Emperor was; and Charles, too ill with gout to ride, after a vain attempt to escape northwards to the Netherlands, fled with difficulty in a litter across the Brenner to Villach. Maurice was urged to end the matter by seizing the Emperor himself. ‘I have no cage big enough to hold such a bird,’ he answered, and preferred to treat.
The Treaty of Passau. Aug. 2, 1552.
On the 1st of June, negotiations were again resumed at Passau between Ferdinand and Maurice, where the Electors, many of the city representatives, and most of the princes were present. It is sometimes said that Charles, in despair, left the negotiations to Ferdinand, and let things go as they would. Nothing is further from the truth. At no time of his life are the tenacity and obstinacy of his character better illustrated than at this moment, especially when we remember how ill he was. Unwilling to abandon his darling scheme of restoring unity to the Church, and supremacy to the imperial authority, he fought each concession clause by clause; ever dreaming of revenge, he laboured to gain time while he intrigued and tried to organise an opposition on every side. But all in vain. Germany had suffered too much from his rule to care to fight for it again. The political tendencies of the time leant too strongly to autonomy in Church and State; and the Treaty of Passau is mainly due to the growth of a middle party, both Catholic and Protestant, who were weary of war, disliked the political schemes of Charles, and saw the necessity of compromise—a party which expressed the sentiments of Germany at large. On one point, however, the Emperor stood firm. He refused to acknowledge the authority of the conference at Passau as final; to the decisions of a Diet alone would he bow, and the terms granted at Passau must be provisional only. Maurice who, in despair at the obstinacy of Charles, had again taken up arms and besieged the city of Frankfort-on-the-Main (July 17), did not feel his position secure enough to refuse compliance, and, on August 2, agreed to the terms offered by the Emperor. The confederates were to lay down their arms before the 12th of August, when the Landgrave was to be set at liberty; a Diet was to be held in six months, when the matters in dispute should be finally decided, and, if no decision were come to, the present arrangement should continue. Meanwhile, all those who adhered to the Confession of Augsburg were to be unmolested, and Protestants were to be admitted as assessors to the Imperial Chamber. Even at the last Charles thought of refusing his consent, and of appealing to arms. Overborne, however, by the solicitations of Ferdinand, who warned him that he would have to fight the great majority of the Princes, Catholic as well as Protestant, he at last ratified the treaty (August 15), and set the Elector, John Frederick, as well as the Landgrave, free.
The Treaty of Passau represented, there cannot be a doubt, the general wish of Germany, both Catholic and Protestant. It received the hearty assent of all except a few devoted Catholics, and those who, like John Frederick, hoped to regain what they had lost, or, like Albert Alcibiades of Culmbach, looked to benefit by a continuation of the war. Much as Charles disliked the peace, any attempt to join the disaffected would have been madness. Yet with that doggedness which seemed to grow upon him with years, he did not abandon hope. The French had not been included in the treaty. A successful war waged against them might yet regain him popularity, and place him in a position to make one more struggle for all that he held dear.
Ill success of Charles prevents his breaking the Treaty.
Fortunately for the cause of Protestantism and the interests of Germany, Charles’ military enterprises failed. He secured, indeed, the assistance of Albert of Culmbach, and in October, 1552, laid siege to Metz. But the skill and energy of the Duke of Guise, who here won his military name, baulked the efforts of Charles. The winter came on, and sorely tried the Spanish and Italian troops; and, in December, 1552, Charles abandoned the attempt, bitterly declaring that ‘Fortune, like women, favoured a young King rather than an old Emperor.’ Nor were his arms more successful in Italy. The republic of Siena, torn by internal dissensions, had put itself under the Emperor’s protection, and admitted a body of soldiers under Mendoza, the imperial ambassador at Rome. But the severity of Mendoza’s rule soon caused the Sienese to repent; they applied to France for aid, drove out the Spanish troops, and transferred their allegiance to France; while Solyman, again in alliance with the French, sent a fleet which threatened, though unsuccessfully, the city of Naples. In 1553, the Emperor, who had retired to the Netherlands, was somewhat more fortunate, and took the town of Terouenne. But in Italy, all the attempts of the Viceroy of Naples, and of Cosimo, Duke of Florence, to oust the French from Siena were vain; Naples was again threatened by a Turkish fleet, and the French conquered a part of Corsica. In Hungary, Isabella the widow of Zapolya, and her son, leaning on Turkish support, finally secured Transylvania; and Vienna itself might have been attacked once more if Solyman had not been called off by a Persian war, and distracted by the domestic troubles which led to the execution of his own favourite son Mustapha.
Death of Maurice at Sievershausen. July 9, 1553.
At this moment occurred the death of Maurice, an event which, under more prosperous circumstances, might have offered Charles an opportunity of final victory. In the midst of the foreign war, Charles had not ceased to intrigue with the disaffected, more especially with Albert of Culmbach. In return for the assistance that prince had given him before Metz, he had confirmed those grants of money and of land which Albert had extorted from the Bishops of Bamberg and Wurzburg. These claims Albert now proceeded to enforce with arms, in spite of the order of the Imperial Chamber; whereupon, in February 1553, Ferdinand and Maurice, who, with other Princes of the south of Germany, formed the League of Heidelberg to enforce the Treaty of Passau, marched against him and defeated him at Sievershausen, in the Duchy of Luneburg (July 9). The victory, however, was dearly bought, for Maurice died two days afterwards of his wounds. Thus, at the age of thirty-two, a Prince passed away who had played the leading part in the history of Germany since 1546. To this day his aims and his character are matters of hot dispute. By some he is looked upon as the apt pupil of Machiavelli, a man devoid of religious conviction, or of any principle beyond that of calculating self-interest. Others represent him as the greatest statesman of the day; as the man who first guessed the designs of Charles, and whose treachery in 1546 was really only the first and necessary move towards the final vindication of the cause of Protestantism, forced upon him by the necessity of gaining a strong position before he could hope to resist the Emperor. As is so often the case with violent partisanship, the truth lies midway between these two extreme views. Although Maurice had no very strong convictions on the points at issue between the adherents of the two hostile creeds, and was, no doubt, influenced by ambition, yet it is unjust to accuse him of sacrificing the religion of his subjects to personal ends. In any case, whatever we may think of his motives, the ability of his statesmanship is beyond dispute. Once deceived by Charles, he quickly learnt of him, and finally succeeded in outmanœuvring that master of diplomacy. To Maurice, at least, Protestantism owed its final recognition, and Germany her escape from the Spanish tyranny of Charles. Nor did the electorate of Saxony suffer under his hands. The country was well ruled, and education advanced. Nay, had Maurice lived longer or been succeeded by men of like calibre with himself, Saxony would probably not have seen herself eclipsed in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries by her neighbours, the Hohenzollern Electors of Brandenburg. Whether it be true that, at the moment of his death, he dreamt of even greater things, and that he, in conjunction with Ferdinand, was intriguing with France to secure the imperial dignity for himself, we cannot say. Maurice was too good a diplomatist to show his hand before the decisive moment. But at least we may believe that Germany would not have fared ill under him as Emperor.
Neither Albert nor Charles benefited from the death of Maurice. The former was shortly driven from Germany to end his days as a pensioner of the French King, while his dominions in Franconia fell to his cousin, George Frederick of Anspach; and Charles, despairing of resisting the united will of Germany, at last bowed to the inevitable. He abandoned his scheme of succession, and ceased to oppose a permanent settlement of the religious difficulties. To this course he was the more inclined, because he now thought of marrying Philip to Mary, the Catholic Queen of England, and thus uniting England with the Spanish monarchy. With this change of policy, the rivalry between him and his brother was at an end, and Ferdinand was given a free hand in Germany.
The affairs of Saxony first demanded attention. John Frederick, in spite of his remonstrances, was forced to rest content with some territorial concessions; while the rest of the dominions, with the electoral titles, went to Augustus, the brother of Maurice.
Diet of Augsburg. Feb.–Sept. 1555.
Having settled this question satisfactorily, Ferdinand prevailed on his brother to summon the Diet to Augsburg in February, 1555. Charles, however, refused to take any part in the negotiations, and left Ferdinand to preside and to settle matters as he would, with the warning that he should do nothing against his conscience.
Death of Julius III., March 1555, facilitates matters.
With a few exceptions all in Germany, both Catholic and Protestant, earnestly desired a settlement of the religious question, and the establishment of a peace which might protect them from such turbulent spirits as Albert of Brandenburg. And yet the attempt to reconcile the conflicting interests of the two religions—always a difficult matter—was rendered doubly so by the complicated character of the imperial constitution. No sooner, therefore, did discussion begin than dissensions appeared, and these were fostered by the papal party. Fortunately, the death of Julius III., in March, forced his legate, Cardinal Morone, to retire from Augsburg. The next Pope, Marcellus II., only lived twenty days; and although his successor, Paul IV. (Caraffa), attempted to put every obstacle in the way, he was only able to limit the concessions granted to the Protestants.
On two points, agreement was comparatively easy. It was declared that hereafter all religious disputes should be settled by peaceful means, and to this end, in all causes between a Catholic and a Lutheran, the Imperial Chamber was to be composed of an equal number of assessors from either party. The remaining questions presented greater difficulties. The Lutherans had originally wished that every individual should be allowed to conform to the Confession of Augsburg, whether the subject of a Protestant state or no. But this was dreaded by those Catholic Princes in whose dominions Lutheranism had made great strides, and the Reformers were forced to rest content with the stipulation, that every secular Prince or imperial city should be allowed to decide which of the two religions should be adopted within their jurisdiction, and that those who could not conform should be allowed to depart with their goods. A compromise was also arrived at with regard to the secularisation of ecclesiastical property within the jurisdiction of secular Princes. All such property as had been secularised before the Treaty of Passau, 1552, was to remain so, but no further exercise of the right was to be allowed. The Protestants, while conceding this point, demanded that ecclesiastical Princes should, like the secular Princes, be allowed to establish what religion they liked within their jurisdictions, and that any ecclesiastical Prince or Bishop who adopted the Lutheran Confession should retain his dignities and his revenues. This would, however, have dealt a fatal blow at the whole fabric of the Empire, and was stoutly resisted by the Catholics, and by Ferdinand himself. As the Lutherans stood out, Ferdinand thought seriously of postponing the consideration of this question, lest the rest of the treaty might be lost. Finally, however, an unsatisfactory compromise was arrived at. It was enacted, that if any ecclesiastic should hereafter abandon the Catholic religion, he should relinquish his office, with the revenues and patronage appertaining thereto. This clause the Lutherans allowed to be inserted in the treaty, but only under protest that they did not consider the reservation binding on them; and further obtained the concession that those subjects of ecclesiastical Princes, who had already embraced Lutheranism, should be unmolested, and that those who might subsequently become Lutherans should be allowed to emigrate.
By the Peace of Augsburg, the attempt of Charles to re-establish the unity of the Church on the basis of a revived Empire of the West, received its final death-blow; and the principle of autonomy in ecclesiastical matters was definitely recognised. Had Charles been victorious over his foreign enemies, in all probability he would, for a time at least, have gained his end. Had he been less ambitious, and confined his attention to Germany, he might possibly have succeeded in crushing out Lutheranism. But the very magnificence of his aims prevented their realisation. Again and again, when he was about to strike, some exigency of politics intervened to thwart him; and eventually the principle of territorialism, when supported by the foreigner, proved too strong. Yet it would not be fair to charge the Protestants with having used a religious cry to further their political ends. In Germany, as elsewhere in Europe, the religious element perforce connected itself with politics. The Reformation furnished a creed and a new enthusiasm to the political aspirations already existing, and eventually gave the victory to those political tendencies which were the strongest. Had Charles been a different man, he might have adopted Protestantism and thereon founded a united kingdom in Germany. But this his character and his Spanish sympathies prevented, and, short of complete victory on his part, there was no alternative but that of decentralisation. Henceforth, Germany abandoned all hope of reconciling the two religions by means of a general or even a national Council in Germany. The Lutheran Church obtained a legal recognition, and the Protestant states claimed to pursue their course without the intervention of any external ecclesiastical authority. In this way the mediæval conception of Church and State was completely revolutionised, and the temporal authority gained an independence it had not enjoyed before. Nevertheless, the settlement was by no means final, and bore in it the seeds of future discord. The principle of individual toleration was not conceded. If the Princes usually adopted the religion of the majority of their subjects, the rights of the minority were not respected. The ‘ecclesiastical reservation’ was certain hereafter to lead to serious disputes. Above all, the Calvinists, who were shortly to become the most active of the Reformers, were not included in the peace. The religious quarrels which ensued between them and the Lutherans embittered the political jealousies already existing. The Catholics took advantage of this, and Germany had yet to undergo the horrors of the Thirty Years’ War, before the religious question should receive its final settlement.
Truce of Vaucelles. Feb. 1556.
While Germany had been absorbed in these momentous issues, the war with France had been continued on the borders of the Netherlands, and in Italy, with varying results. In April 1555, Siena was regained for the Imperialists by Cosimo, Duke of Florence. Elsewhere the events were unimportant, and, in 1556, a truce concluded at Vaucelles, led to a brief cessation of arms. By that date, however, Charles had ceased to be King of Spain.
Preparation of Charles for his abdication.
Disappointed at the frustration of all his schemes, a victim to gout, asthma, and other ailments, he determined to abandon the heretical Germany to Ferdinand, and to resign the government of his other territories to his son. Charles fondly hoped that Philip, united to the Queen of England, and in the full vigour of youth, might yet establish a great Catholic monarchy with its centre in Spain, and resist the dangerous advance of heresy; nay, might some day bring the King of France to his knees, and establish Spanish supremacy in Europe. Milan and Italy had been already ceded to Philip on his marriage with Mary of England, but the division of authority had led to difficulties, and to some quarrels between father and son. In October 1555, therefore, one month after the peace of Augsburg, Queen Mary of Hungary resigned her post as Regent of the Netherlands, and the government of those territories, which had just been once more separated from the Empire, was handed over to Philip.
Jan. 1556. Philip acknowledged King of Spain. Sept.: Charles resigns the imperial throne.
Even then, Charles had apparently intended to retain the government of Spain somewhat longer in his hands, but Italy and the Netherlands could scarcely be defended without Spanish arms and money; accordingly, in the following January (1556), Philip was acknowledged King of Spain. Finally, in the September of that year, Charles resigned the imperial crown, although, owing to certain technicalities, Ferdinand was not elected for two years. By this act, the ambitious idea, first entertained by Maximilian, of uniting under one rule Spain, Italy, and the Netherlands with the German dominions of the Hapsburgs, was abandoned, and a return was made to the more reasonable policy of Ferdinand the Catholic. Henceforth until the disappearance of the Spanish line in 1700, the House of Hapsburg was divided into two branches, of which the Austrian ruled over the family territories in South Germany, and secured the elective throne of the Empire; while the Spanish ruled over Italy, Franche-Comté, the Netherlands, and the conquests in the New World. It would probably have been well for Spain if she had never had a German Emperor as her King; while the Netherlands, all that now remained to her of the patrimony of the Archduke Philip, was yet to prove a source of weakness and humiliation.
Charles at Yuste. Sept. 1556 to Sept. 1558.
Death of Charles V. 21st Sept. 1558.
Charles, having resigned the burden of government to younger shoulders, retired to the Jeronymite monastery of Yuste in the province of Estremadura, in September, 1556. The traditional story of his life there requires some correction. He did not dwell in the monastery, but in a house prepared for him close by. Although he lived a religious life, attended regularly the services of the Church, and even submitted himself to the penance of flagellation, his daily lot was not otherwise one of extreme hardship. In the matter of diet, especially, he not only excused himself from fasting, ostensibly on the score of health, but indulged, to his cost, his love for rich and unwholesome dishes. He by no means shut himself off from all worldly concerns, but kept up an active correspondence with his son, and with his daughter Joanna, who acted as Regent of Castile during Philip’s absence. He was most energetic in collecting the necessary taxes for the campaigns of 1557 and 1558, and one of his last acts was to urge the Regent to crush out the Lutheran heresy, which had appeared in Spain. Retaining in his retreat the same dogged adherence to the principles which had guided his life, Charles at last, in his fifty-eighth year, succumbed to the ailments which had been growing upon him of late (21st September 1558).
The Emperor has been so often before us, that it is needless to say much more of him here. His character was late in developing, and it was not until the Diet of Worms, 1521, that he began to show his powers. From that moment, however, he bent himself to the bewildering difficulties of his position with a consistency of purpose which is all the more remarkable when we remember his constitutional indolence and irresolution. It is the conflict between these three qualities—his obstinacy, his lethargy, and his irresolution—which explains the contradictions of his conduct. Self-possessed and self-contained, yet with a fiery nature which at times betrayed itself, few save his two chancellors, Gattinara and Granvelle, and his confessor Pedro de Soto, were admitted to his counsels. If we except his wife Isabella of Portugal, who died in 1539, his son and his sisters, he made but few close attachments, and his heart was rarely stirred by any sentiment. He never forgave an injury; he rarely did a generous deed. He was a man to command fear and even admiration, but not to inspire affection. A Netherlander at first, but never a German, he soon became a thorough Spaniard, and looked upon Spain as the model he would fain impose on Europe.