Italy then, as now, was divided into many independent states, and distracted by civil and religious dissensions. The duchy of Milan was ruled by Ludovico Moro, son of the celebrated Francis Sforza. Naples, called a kingdom, had just been conquered by the French. Florence was under the sway of the Medici. Venice, whose commercial importance had begun to decline, was controlled by an oligarchy of nobles. The chair of St. Peter was filled by pope Alexander VI., a pontiff who has obtained an infamous immortality by the vices of debauchery, cruelty, and treachery. The papacy was probably in its most corrupt state, and those who had the control of its immense patronage, disregarded the loud call for reformation which was raised in every corner of Christendom. The popes were intent upon securing temporal as well as spiritual power, and levied oppressive taxes on both their spiritual and temporal subjects.
The great northern kingdoms of Europe, which are now so considerable,—Russia, Denmark, Sweden, and Norway,—did not, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, attract much attention. They were plunged in barbarism and despotism, and the light of science or religion rarely penetrated into the interior. The monarchs were sensual and cruel, the nobles profligate and rapacious, the clergy ignorant and corrupt, and the people degraded, and yet insensible to their degradation, with no aspirations for freedom and no appreciation of the benefits of civilization. Such heroes as Peter and Gustavus Adolphus had not yet appeared. Nor were these northern nations destined to be immediately benefited by the impulse which the reformation gave, with the exception of Sweden, then the most powerful of these kingdoms.
The Greek empire became extinct when Constantinople was taken by the Turks, in 1453. On its ruins, the Ottoman power was raised. At the close of the fifteenth century, the Turkish arms were very powerful, and Europe again trembled before the Moslems. Greece and the whole of Western Asia were obedient to the sultan. But his power did not reach its culminating point until a century afterwards.
Such were the various states of Europe when the Reformation broke out. Maximilian was emperor of Germany, and Charles V. had just inherited, from his father, Philip the Fair, who had married a daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, the kingdom of Spain, in addition to the dominion of the Netherlands.
By the death of Maximilian, in 1519, the youthful sovereign of Spain and the Netherlands came into possession of the Austrian dominions; and the electors, shortly after, chose him emperor of Germany.
He was born at Ghent, A. D. 1500, and was educated with great care. He early displayed his love of government, and, at fifteen, was present at the deliberations of the cabinet. But he had no taste for learning, and gave but few marks of that genius which he afterwards evinced. He was much attached to his Flemish subjects, and, during the first year of his reign, gave great offence to the grandees of Spain and the nobles of Germany by his marked partiality for those men who had been his early companions.
It is difficult to trace, in the career of Charles V., any powerful motives of conduct, separate from the desire of aggrandizement. The interests of the church, with which he was identified, and the true welfare of his subjects, were, at different times, sacrificed to his ambition. Had there been no powerful monarchs on the other thrones of Europe, his dreams of power might possibly have been realized. But at this period there happened to be a constellation of princes.
The greatest of these, and the chief rival through life of Charles, was Francis I. of France. He had even anticipated an election to the imperial crown, which would have made him more powerful than even Charles himself. The electors feared both, and chose Frederic of Saxony; but he declined the dangerous post. Charles, as Archduke of Austria, had such great and obvious claims, that they could not be disregarded. He was therefore the fortunate candidate. But his election was a great disappointment to Francis, and he could not conceal his mortification. Wars between Charles and Francis. Peace could not long subsist between two envious and ambitious princes. Francis was nearly of the same age as Charles, had inherited nearly despotic power, was free from financial embarrassments, and ruled over an united and loyal people. He was therefore no contemptible match for Charles. In addition, he strengthened himself by alliances with the Swiss and Venetians. Charles sought the favor of the pope and Henry VIII. of England. The real causes of war were mutual jealousies, and passion for military glory. The assigned causes were, that Charles did not respect the claims of Francis as king of Naples; and, on the other hand, that Francis had seized the duchy of Milan, which was a fief of the empire, and also retained the duchy of Burgundy, the patrimonial inheritance of the emperor.
The political history of Europe, for nearly half a century, is a record of the wars between these powerful princes, of their mutual disasters, disappointments, and successes. Other contests were involved in these, and there were also some which arose from causes independent of mutual jealousy, such as the revolt of the Spanish grandees, of the peasants in Germany, and of the invasion of the empire by the Turks. During the reign of Charles, was also the division of the princes of Germany, on grounds of religion—the foundation of the contest which, after the death of Charles, convulsed Germany for thirty years. But the Thirty Years' War was a religious war—was one of the political consequences of the Reformation. The wars between Charles and Francis were purely wars of military ambition. Charles had greater territories and larger armies; but Francis had more money, and more absolute control over his forces. Charles's power was checked in Spain by the free spirit of the Cortes, and in Germany by the independence of the princes, and by the embarrassing questions which arose out of the Reformation.
It would be tedious to read the various wars between Charles and his rival. Each of them gained, at different times, great successes, and each experienced, in turn, the most humiliating reverses. Francis was even taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia, in 1525, and confined in a fortress at Madrid, until he promised to the victors the complete dismemberment of France—an extorted promise he never meant to keep. No sooner had he recovered his liberty, than he violated all his oaths, and Europe was again the scene of fresh hostilities. The passion of revenge was now added to that of ambition, and, as the pope had favored the cause of Francis, the generals of Charles invaded Italy. Rome was taken and sacked by the constable Bourbon, a French noble whom Francis had slighted, and cruelties and outrages were perpetrated by the imperial forces which never disgraced Alaric or Attila.