Alexander VI’s bull had divided the western hemisphere between the Spanish and the Portuguese. Florida belonged to Spain. France had built Fort Caroline on Spanish territory. As peace existed in 1565, France argued that the massacre by Menendez was a violation of international law. To this Spain replied that Florida belonged to her by discovery and as all treaties between Spain and France were silent as to any change of ownership, there really had been no such change in law. Consequently the French settlers were intruders and heretics to boot. The answer was crushing, Fourquevaux was heavily handicapped, for he could not openly espouse the cause of Frenchmen who were heretics. Before news of the massacre reached France, Philip II, knowing the facts, inquired if the French expedition had been commanded or sanctioned by the French King. The only answer possible was a negative. An affirmative answer would have been tantamount to a declaration of war. “Then the incident is closed,” was the Spanish reply. This was followed by a demand that Coligny, under whose sanction the expedition had sailed, should be punished.

France was likewise at odds with the Emperor. The reason for this is to be found in the strong attitude the empire had lately taken on the question of Metz.[1037] Understanding of this question entails a glance backward. In 1564 the baron Bolwiller, a native of upper Alsace, but at that time bailiff of the Emperor in the grand bailiwick of Haguenau, revived the plan he had conceived in 1558, of recovering Metz by a surprise.[1038] Bolwiller represented that no time was to be lost if France was to be prevented from fixing her hold upon the Three Bishoprics forever. Philip II favored the enterprise and offered 20,000 sous cash, and the assignment of 8,000 écus annual revenue of the territory, “pour celluy ou ceulx qui’lz luy rendroyent la ville du dict Metz.”[1039] For with Metz in the hands of the Hapsburgs once more, the chain of provinces connecting the Netherlands with Spain through mid-Europe would have been practically complete, lying as Metz, Toul, and Verdun did, between Franche-Comté and Luxembourg.[1040] This was at the time when Condé was recreant to his people and was dallying with the widow of the marshal St. André, and the idea was conceived and abandoned of buying the prince over and bribing him to betray Metz to Spain.[1041] Spain, however, in order to avoid a rupture with France wished to conceal her own participation in the plot to recover Metz, and urged the Emperor Maximilian to undertake the venture.[1042] The plot was to tempt Metz to revolt against France by offering to convert it into a free imperial city, it being expected that the Lutherans in the city would support the movement.[1043] The alertness of the French government, however, foiled the project’s being undertaken in April. In August Bolwiller renewed his plan, alleging to Chantonnay that the people of Metz were ready to provide 20,000 écus, and that there were arms in plenty stored in secret. He urged prompt action now for the French government had begun the erection of a citadel in the city.[1044]

By this time Philip II was so anxious to see France despoiled of Metz and so impatient at Maximilian’s delay, that it was even considered advisable by some to take advantage of the check given the Turks at Malta and have the Emperor make peace with them in order to have his hands free in the Three Bishoprics.[1045] As for himself, Philip II dared not make an overt move against France, lest in the event of war with Spain, Charles IX appeal to the Huguenots, with the result that Protestantism would profit by the diversion.[1046]

But meanwhile things in Metz had got beyond control of either Spain or the empire. The Calvinists in both France and the Netherlands had been quick to see the advantage afforded, for the former by gaining possession of the territory could connect France and the Palatinate, thus aiding themselves and their coreligionists at one and the same time, since by so doing the land route of Spain through Central Europe, via Milan, Besançon, and Luxembourg, would be cut in half. Matters came to a head in May and June, 1565, in what is known as the “Cardinal’s War.” On May 5 the Emperor Maximilian had issued a decree affirming his suzerainty over Metz, Toul, and Verdun. The cardinal of Lorraine at once recognized the validity of this decree, which was equivalent to treason to France. Thereupon, in the name of Charles IX Salzedo an ex-Spaniard[1047] and leader of the French party in Metz assumed the title of governor of Metz and appealed to the French King for support against the cardinal. The issue was really one between France and Spain. The Guises naturally supported the cardinal. The “war” which followed was not formidable, although the issue as stake was of great importance. But the cardinal soon discovered that discretion was the better part of valor and yielded to the King, more especially as neither Philip II nor Maximilian raised a hand for fear of betraying themselves, for the cardinal feared that if he resisted longer Charles IX would refuse to pardon his treasonable conduct. He was not unaware of the fact—he did not even deny it—that it was known that he had been in treasonable communication with Bolwiller and the archbishop of Trèves.[1048]

If Charles IX and the queen mother had known the full extent of the cardinal of Lorraine’s treasonable conduct at this time they might not have been so lenient toward him. For he was guilty not only of treasonable intercourse with the empire, but directly with Spain also. The one supremely important result of this petty war over Metz is that at this time the cardinal—and with him the whole Guise house—began those secret negotiations with Philip of Spain which culminated in the establishment of the Holy League. Shortly after the end of his ignominious war around Metz, burning with anger and shame, the cardinal sent a secret agent to Franche Comté, who found Granvella at Beaudencourt in July, 1565, to whom he recited the cardinal’s grievances, saying that owing to the death of his brother the duke of Guise and the insolence of the marshal Montmorency, he had no hope in the justice of Charles IX. The agent then went on to point out the great danger threatening Catholic Europe by reason of what had recently happened at Metz, and, speaking for the cardinal of Lorraine, expressed the wish that Philip II would enter into a league with the house of Guise, the duke of Montpensier—Alva’s convert at Bayonne—and certain others for the protection of the Catholic faith in France and the overthrow of the Châtillons, the prince of Condé, “Madame de Vendôme,” and other Huguenots. This formidable overture was made under the seal of secrecy. The cautious Granvella listened but refrained from committing his master to the proposition.[1049] Again, Philip II hesitated to implicate himself so directly in French affairs, as the cardinal of Lorraine urged, just as he had hesitated the year before with Montluc, and while he waited events in the Low Countries went from bad to worse.

In August, 1566, a furious outburst of iconoclasm swept through the churches of Flanders.

Commencing at St. Omer, the contagion rapidly spread, and in a fortnight 400 churches were sacked in Flanders alone, while in Antwerp the cathedral was stripped of all its treasures. Images, relics, shrines, paintings, manuscripts, and books shared a common fate.[1050]

The event stirred Philip to action. He determined to send the duke of Alva to Flanders to repress things with an iron hand.[1051]

On November 18, 1566, the duke of Alva formally requested the French ambassador at Madrid to secure Charles IX’s permission for a Spanish army to cross France.

The remedy has become little by little so difficult [said the duke] that deeds not words and remonstrances, are now necessary. Having exhausted all good and gracious means to reduce things in the Low Countries, the King is constrained, to his great regret, to have recourse to force. Public assemblies, preaching, the bearing of arms, and violence prevail in the land and the King’s ministers amount to nothing.