RENEWED HOSTILITIES; THE TREATY OF CATEAU-CAMBRÉSIS
At the time of the abdication of Charles V the flames of war which had raged in Europe with such intense violence during the greater part of his long reign seemed already expiring in their embers. But they were rekindled in Italy, almost immediately after the accession of Philip II, by the fierce passions of Paul IV, a rash and violent pontiff. In his indignation at the opposition which Charles V had raised against his election, and moreover to gratify the ambition of his family, Paul IV had already instigated Henry II of France to join him in a league to ruin the imperial power in Italy; and he now, in concert with the French monarch, directed against Philip II the hostile measures which he had prepared against his father.
Philip II, that most odious of tyrants, whose atrocious cruelty and imbecile superstition may divide the judgment between execration and contempt, shrank with horror from the impiety of combating the pontiff, whom he had regarded as the vicegerent of God upon earth. He therefore vainly exhausted every resource of negotiation, before he was reconciled by the opinion of the Spanish ecclesiastics, whom he anxiously consulted, to the lawfulness of engaging in such a contest. At length he was prevailed upon to suffer the duke of Alva to lead the veteran Spanish bands from the kingdom of Naples into the papal territories. The advance of Alva to the gates of Rome, however, struck consternation into the sacred college; and the haughty and obstinate pontiff was compelled by the terror of his cardinals to conclude a truce with the Spanish general, which he immediately broke on learning the approach of a superior French army under the duke de Guise (1556).
[1556-1557 A.D.]
This celebrated captain of France, to whom the project was confided of conquering the kingdom of Naples from the Spaniards, was, however, able to accomplish nothing in Italy which accorded with his past and subsequent fame. Crossing the Alps at the head of twenty thousand men, he penetrated, without meeting any resistance, through Lombardy and Tuscany to the ecclesiastical capital. If he could effect the reduction of the kingdom of Naples, it was imagined that the Spanish provinces in northern Italy must fall of themselves; and having, therefore, left the Milanese duchy unassailed behind him, he passed on from Rome to the banks of the Garigliano, where he found Alva posted with an inferior force to oppose him. The wily caution of the Spanish general and the patient valour of his troops disconcerted the impetuosity of the French and the military skill of their gallant leader: and disease had already begun to make fearful havoc in the ranks of the invaders, when Guise was recalled, by the victory of the Spaniards at St. Quentin, to defend the frontiers of France.[c]
The Colonnade, St. Peter’s, Rome
The confusion at Rome was great. But the pope, though considerably grieved, gave no external sign of being disturbed or alarmed. “The ambassador of France has just assured me,” wrote the bishop of Anglone on the 25th of August, 1557, “that the pope felt greatly the constable’s defeat, and is troubled; yet in spite of his affliction he does not say cease, but that his courage is greater than ever, and, from what he sees and believes, his holiness is more than ever disposed to continue the friendly relations, as he well knows he cannot bear the cost alone and has need of the king’s aid.” Nevertheless, Paul IV could not be unmindful that he was left alone to face the victorious enemy, bolder in their pretensions, as they knew themselves superior to their adversary.
The pope therefore took the resolution of checking the victorious march of the duke of Alva, and saving Rome by coming to terms. Cardinal Caraffa attempted through the medium of Alessandro Placidi to negotiate with the Spanish viceroy, but the conditions imposed were too onerous to be accepted by the pontifical court. Cosmo intervened in favour of the latter, being anxious for peace, and a peace was signed upon most honourable terms for the pope, who through the sagacity of Silvestro Aldobrandini recovered all he had lost, and was enabled to confirm the sentences against the rebellious vassals, while King Philip promised to send a solemn embassy to him, asking grace and pardon.
[1557-1558 A.D.]
But in a secret article of the treaty (an article which the pope ignored), the duchy of Paliano, the apparent cause of the war, remained in the hands of the Spanish. The duke of Alva had therefore to repair to Rome, and, though much against his will, was forced to bow before the pontiff and ask pardon for having made war on the church. The pope, who could hardly believe that he was free from a war into which he had been dragged without foreseeing all the consequences, received him with great benignity and sent the rosa benedetta to his wife the vice-queen. The duke of Ferrara was not included in the peace, but Cosmo prevailed upon Philip to receive him into favour, which was to the great advantage of the duke, who was now on friendly terms with the Venetians, having taken part in the fight between the pope and Spain without the republic’s consent, and who saw himself threatened by Duke Ottavio Farnese, anxious to enlarge his dominions at the expense of the house of Este; while his people, exhausted by a disastrous war, ardently longed for peace.
De Guise left Rome on the same day as the duke of Alva entered the town; he proceeded in all haste to France, where his arrival was eagerly looked for, and was appointed lieutenant-general with full powers. At the head of the French army he entered the field, though the season was far advanced. While feigning to bear down on the frontier of Flanders, he suddenly turned and fell upon Calais, the last place which the English held in France—an important dominion, as it secured them an easy and safe passage into the heart of the country. In eight days De Guise took possession of the place; a success due not so much to valour as to his usual foresight, he having seized the moment when the fort was left denuded of its garrison. This victory avenged St. Quentin and partly smoothed the way to a general peace.
First a truce was spoken of, then a general disarming, then a disbanding of foreign troops; but ultimately the two powers appointed their plenipotentiaries, who on the 12th of October, 1558, assembled at Cercamps, to formulate their proposals. Negotiations were long and difficult, especially respecting the question of the possession of Calais, being suspended on the 17th of November, 1558, on account of the death of Mary Tudor, queen of England; they were resumed at Cateau-Cambrésis in the following year, and finally peace was signed between England and France in the first place, between France and Spain in the second. The conditions were as follows: France restored Marienburg, Thionville, Damvillers, Montmédy, in exchange for St. Quentin, Ham, Catalet, and Thérouanne; she kept Calais and restored without compensation Bovigny and Bouillon to the bishop of Liège, while Philip kept Hesdin. In Italy the French evacuated Montferrat, Milan, Corsica, Montalcino, Siena, Piedmont, excepting the forts of Turin, Chieri, Pinerolo, Chivasso, Villanova d’Asti, which she held in pledge, and which by the Treaty of Fossano, signed by the cardinal of Lorraine in the name of the king of France, were restored to Emmanuel Philibert in exchange for the forts of Savigliano and Perosa.
[1558-1565 A.D.]
The Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis left Savoy, Bresse, and Bugey free, but not so the duchy of Saluzzo, which held by France was occupied by Henry IV and definitely abandoned to Piedmont in 1601, in exchange for Bresse and Bugey. The restitution of the forts of Piedmont on the part of France put the seal on the separation of this power from northern Italy. Two marriages were arranged to make the peace binding, one between Philip II, left a widower a short time previously, and Elizabeth of Valois, eldest daughter of Henry, and the other between Margaret, sister of the latter, and the duke of Savoy.
The Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, completed fifty years later by that of Vervins, was the fundamental treaty of Europe until the Treaty of Westphalia. Few diplomatic acts have had such lasting results. The convention of the 2nd of April, 1559, answered the momentary needs of Europe; defined the limits of the possessions of every nation; broke the power of the house of Habsburg, which inclined to universal monarchy; lessened the authority of Philip II in Italy and the Low Countries, and compelled the said monarch to keep within the limits of the Iberian peninsula; and assured liberty to the rest of Europe, so recently threatened by the omnipotence of Charles V.[h]
But in its consequences to Italy, this famous treaty was particularly important. To detach the duke of Parma from the French interest during the late war, Philip had already restored to him the part of his states which Charles V had formerly seized: to confirm the fidelity of Cosmo I, afterwards grand duke of Tuscany, he had assigned Siena to the sceptre of the Medici, and retained only in Tuscany the small maritime district which was destined to form a Spanish province, under the title of lo stato degli presidi—the state of the garrisons. The general pacification confirmed these cessions of Philip; it also restored to the house of Savoy the greater part of its possessions, which the French and Spanish kings engaged to evacuate; and it left the kingdom of Naples and the duchy of Milan under the recognised sovereignty of Spain.
Thus the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis may be considered to have finally regulated the limit and the existence of these Italian principalities and provinces which, under despotic government, whether native or foreign, had embraced almost the whole surface of the peninsula; and it left only the shadow of republican freedom to Venice, Genoa, Lucca, and—if it be worth naming—to the petty community of San Marino in the ecclesiastical states. But this same pacification is yet more remarkable, as the era from which Italy ceased to be the theatre of contention between the monarchs of Spain and Germany and France, in their struggle for the mastery of continental Europe. Other regions were now to be scathed by their ambition, and other countries were to succeed to that inheritance of warfare and all its calamities, of which Italy had reaped, and was yet to reap, only the bitterest fruits.[c]
A new phase now began for Italy; she no longer resisted servitude but became resigned, nay hastened to it. That same brilliant genius that had strayed in the slippery paths of the Renaissance expiated its pagan scepticism in the rigours of penitence and sometimes in the weaknesses of superstition.
Pius IV set the example of resignation. Entirely occupied in embellishing Rome, he had built the Porta Pia, opened up the via Montecavallo; protected the coasts against barbaric pirates by the Borgo, Ancona, and Cività-Vecchia fortifications, and had no other object than peace in his relations with foreign powers. Solicited by the Savoy ambassador to help his master in recovering Geneva, now turned Protestant, “What are we coming to,” he said to him, “that such propositions should be made to me? I desire above all things peace.” He was convinced that the holy see could not long maintain itself without help from the princes, and above all made much of those who reigned over Italy. He thought once of conferring the title of king on Cosmo, or at least of making him archduke. He refused nothing to his vassal Philip II for the kingdom of Naples, and allowed him to oppose the formality of the exequatur to his own decrees. Still less did he combat the measures which the king took in Milan to restrain the privileges left by Charles V to the senate and the last communal liberties.
The Lion of St. Mark’s, Venice
[1563-1572 A.D.]
The holy see, it is true, gained spiritually what she lost temporally. In the last sessions of the Council of Trent, which she had the glory of reopening in 1563, Pope Pius IV, by politic concessions made to the prince, strengthened the religious reforms which it had seemed possible might be seized from him. By ceasing to invoke his right over crowned heads he obtained one thing—there was no more talk of reforming the church by reforming the head of it. The council, instead of putting itself above him, bowed before his authority. Not only was tradition maintained, and dogma in all its rigour, but the power of the holy see in all of its Catholicity was raised and extended. The pope remained sole judge of the changes to be worked in discipline, was infallible in matters of faith, supreme interpreter of canons, uncontested head of bishops, and Rome could console herself for the definite loss of a part of Europe by seeing her power doubled in the Catholic nations of the south who rallied religiously round her.
The lay sovereigns of Italy had not this compensation. Cosmo de’ Medici could freely restrain by terror his subjects of Florence and Siena, who still feared him. He could fortify Grossetto, Leghorn; found the order of the cavaliers of St. Stephen against pirates; construct galleys, hollow out canals, irrigate and try to repeople and make the Maremma healthy; but in seizing the little town of Foligliano from Niccolo Orsini he roused the discontent of the sovereigns, and did not appease them save by accepting the hand of the archduchess Johanna, an Austrian princess, for his son. The duke of Savoy, Emmanuel Philibert, who had given a victory to Philip II over the king of France at St. Quentin, recovered, through favour of the troubles in France, all his Piedmontese towns. But neither from the king of Spain nor the pope did he obtain the help he needed to reduce Geneva.
Under Pope Pius V (1566) the work of Catholic restoration and weakening of the peninsula was finished. This holy but inflexible old man, admired by the people for his always bare head, long white beard, and countenance beaming with piety, got the Roman Inquisition admitted into all the Italian states, and severely watched over faith and customs. Bishops were bound to keep in residence, monks and nuns forced to strict seclusion. The Collegium Germanicum, founded by the Jesuits, became a forcing house for priests for Italy and Germany. Abuses had partly disappeared; scandals diminished in Rome. Cardinals eminent for their piety gave tone to the Roman court—among these the politic Gallio di Como, the administrator Salviati, San Severino, the man of the Inquisition, and Madruzzi, surnamed the Cato of the sacred college. Tiepolo, the Venetian ambassador, a little later rendered the Holy City this witness: “Rome strives to conquer the disrepute into which she had fallen; she has now become more Christian in her customs and manner of living.” In Lombardy, the archbishop of Milan, Carlo Borromeo, a worthy emulator of Pius V, did not content himself with reforming the churches and clergy, the monks and nuns. He restrained public amusement, watched over the regularity of marriages and the general conduct of the laity: his zeal even led him beyond the limit of his powers. He aspired to lend his religious decrees the aid of military force, and the governor of Milan bowed to the ascendency of a zeal free from all political ambition.
This reform, quite ecclesiastical and for discipline, had not, unfortunately, anything practical or strong. Worship was re-established without reformation of men’s characters. The faith was strengthened without correction of manners. Minds were dominated without souls being uplifted. One great action stands out during this epoch. Pius V determined a league against the Turks and among the Italian and Spanish states. Under the leadership of Don John, the vassals of Venice, Genoa, Tuscany, Naples, and the church states carried a glorious victory at Lepanto (1571).[i] So great and so glorious was this victory, that we must give it more than passing notice. As one of the great decisive battles between the Orient and the Occident, it had really world-historical significance. We shall adopt the enthusiastic narrative of the Spanish historian Lafuente.[a]