But many difficulties impeded completion of the remaining conditions. The amount of ransom seems under various pretexts to have been considerably advanced, and is set down by most writers at 400,000 scudi. In order to raise this sum, all the church-plate, which had been saved in the fortress, was hastily coined into specie, and three scarlet hats were set up to sale. Two of them were at once secured for 160,000 scudi by the Venetians, ambitious of influence in the conclave. The third was bought for a creature of Pompeo Colonna, whose personal hostility to Clement had become somewhat mitigated by grief for the sufferings he had brought upon the city, and who, in a pathetic audience with his master, obtained his forgiveness and benediction. Still, a large balance of the besiegers' demands remained undischarged, and the stipulation regarding the fortresses was nullified, Civita Castellana being in the hands of the allies, and Ostia occupied by Andrea Doria, neither of whom would acknowledge the capitulation. Parma and Piacenza were also held for the Church, in consequence, as was suspected, of instructions secretly transmitted by Clement. In the hope of obtaining better terms, his Holiness successively directed more than one member of the Sacred College to proceed as legate to Charles, among whom was Cardinal Farnese, his successor on the papal throne; but none of them would execute the commission.
Meanwhile the miseries of the city were fearfully aggravated. The terrified peasantry having ceased to carry supplies where they were sure of misusage, scarcity was succeeded by famine; and the sewers, choked with bodies and abandoned to neglect, engendered a deadly epidemic, called by Muratori, the murrain, which spared neither friend nor foe. In August, the pestilence increased to a terrific degree; and the invading army being reduced by long licence to an undisciplined horde, portions of it rushed in masses from the city of the plague. Some of these bands, after attempting to hang the Pope's hostages, fled towards Terni and Spoleto, sacking the towns on their way, until cut to pieces by the confederates. Nor was the Pontiff exempt from scenes of suffering. Asses' flesh was served at his table; and a greengrocer's wife was hanged before S. Angelo, for dropping into the trenches a few salad leaves for his use. The contagion spread so rapidly in the castle, that the invaders, fearing their prey might slip from their grasp by death, removed his Holiness for some weeks to the Vatican Belvidere, until the scourge had abated.
Lannoy, having fallen a victim to the disease, was succeeded as viceroy by Ugo da Moncada, from whose mercy Clement knew he had nothing to expect, and whom Santori characterises as "an experienced, clever, and sagacious man of the world, devoid of religion, full of fraud, and no observer of his word." He arrived on the 31st of October, in order to effect some new arrangement, when the Pope purchased by further large sums an exemption from several of the former stipulations, in particular from putting himself and his cardinals into his enemy's hands by going to Naples.[17] To raise this fresh imposition, four more hats were thrown upon the market, and were purchased by adherents of the Emperor. At length, after many delays, the 9th of December was fixed for his liberation from a seven months' virtual captivity; but, distrusting every one, he escaped in disguise the previous night. Concealing his face and beard under an old slouch hat and cloak, and laden with baskets and bags, he passed the sentinels of S. Angelo as a pedlar or menial servant. At a secret postern in the Vatican garden, he found a fleet horse, with a single attendant, supposed to have been provided by Cardinal Colonna, and, riding all night by Celano and Baccano, after a short repose at Capranica, he reached Orvieto, which he had some days before fixed upon as an interim residence.
The diplomatic relations of the Holy See at Madrid were at this juncture in the hands of Count Castiglione, with whom we have formerly become acquainted in the service of Dukes Guidobaldo and Francesco Maria, and whom we last noticed as agent for the Marquis of Mantua at the Roman court in 1522, where he was again sent in the same capacity on the election of Clement VII. The position of the new Pontiff soon became one of great delicacy, and already were those difficulties closing around him, which, during his reign, completed the first great breach in the Romish church, and consummated the mischiefs of foreign invasion in the Peninsula. The struggle for universal dominion of those youthful rivals who occupied the thrones of France and the Empire, was convulsing civilised Europe, and Italy was obviously fated to become the permanent prey of the victor. In these circumstances, a character so deficient in energy and decision was singularly inadequate to cope with the necessities of the times; and Clement's influence at Florence, far from affording a prop to the tottering papacy, tended yet more to distract his irresolute purpose. Falling back upon the usual expedient of small minds, he adopted a neutral attitude between the two contending potentates: but the days were past when Pontiffs could grasp the balance of power, or curb a dangerous ascendancy; and Clement's views aimed not beyond siding with a momentary victor. To carry out such policy fine diplomacy was requisite, and Castiglione was selected to watch the interests of Rome at the Spanish court. In the autumn of 1524, he accepted this Nunziatura, to which was joined the lucrative collectorship of Spain; and after visiting the shrine of Loreto, he reached Madrid in the following March.
His negotiations for the next four years embraced the politics of Europe, to which those of Italy were but an episode. We cannot interrupt the thread of our narrative to notice them: a sketch of their progress, in [No. IV. of the Appendix], may afford some idea of the difficulties of Castiglione's position, as the medium of communication between a master who, leaving him habitually without information, recalled his most momentous instructions after they had been acted upon, and a monarch whose public measures were in uniform contradiction to his private assurances. That diplomacy so conducted should have issued in disgrace to Clement, ruin to Rome, and a broken heart to Count Baldassare, can excite no astonishment; but the ambassador merits our pity rather than our blame. Indeed its complicated intrigues may well drive the historian and the critic to despair. Incidents, which, although attended by important consequences, seem sudden and unlooked for, might, upon more accurate scrutiny, be detected as results long aimed at, and patiently wrought out. Thus, some documents lately published by Lanz[18] prove that Charles, although disposed to yield much for a satisfactory accommodation with Clement, had authorised Moncada, early in the summer of 1526, to concert with Cardinal Pompeo Colonna a series of domestic insurrections, in order to embarrass his Holiness into a disposition for peace, the issue of which machinations we have seen in the first sack of Rome.
Although the acts of Charles and his generals during 1526-7 were uniformly and aggravatingly hostile to Clement, and prejudicial to the papacy, they must be regarded as in some measure forced upon him by the shuffling of his Holiness. His own position and prospects were not then by any means so secure as to render redundant the support still carried by the influence of the Keys; and the cherished aim of his manhood, which would have united Western Europe in one faith and under one sway, had not yet been abandoned as a fitful dream. By keeping in view these peculiarities in his situation, we may in some measure reconcile the obvious contradictions between his professions and his policy—between his language to Castiglione and the conduct of Bourbon; and we may appreciate in their true sense such apparently fulsome and false expressions as he thus addressed to Clement, on the 18th of September, 1526:—"And since God has constituted us two as mighty luminaries, it behoves us to endeavour that the globe should be enlightened by us, and to see that no eclipse occur through our differences; let us, then, take counsel together for the general weal, for repressing barbarian inroads, and restraining sectarian error." At a moment when the eastern frontier of the empire had been broken down by the victorious Crescent; when the crowns of Hungary and Bohemia were tottering on his brother's brow; and when, as he writes in 1526, the wars of Italy had extracted every ducat from his treasury, we may well suppose how sincere was his wish for a settlement of those protracted struggles within the Alps, and for a union of interests with the Holy See. That his measures little accorded with that object, and nowise tended to bring it about, arose less from want of sincere intention than from an ill-judged mixture of good words and hard blows, partly dictated by his own deficient judgment, partly by the misapprehension of his officers. Though therefore the pillage of Rome by the Colonna was a natural consequence of his own intrigues, the regret he expressed to the Pontiff that his people had been driven to it ["que l'on ait donné l'occasion à mes gens que tel désastre soit advenu"] was, no doubt, his real feeling.
Anderson