The Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse, however held out; and such was the condition of the emperor, that he could not immediately attack them. But the death of Francis gave him leisure to invade Saxony, and the elector was defeated at the battle of Muhlhausen, (1547,) and taken prisoner. The captive prince approached the victor without sullenness or pride. "The fortune of war," said he, "has made me your prisoner, most gracious emperor, and I hope to be treated ——" Here Charles interrupted him—"And am I, at last, acknowledged to be emperor? Charles of Ghent was the only title you lately allowed me. You shall be treated as you deserve." At these words he turned his back upon him with a haughty air.
The unfortunate prince was closely guarded by Spanish soldiers, and brought to a trial before a court martial, at which presided the infamous Duke of Alva, afterwards celebrated for his cruelties in Holland. He was convicted of treason and rebellion, and sentenced to death—a sentence which no court martial had a right to inflict on the first prince of the empire. He was treated with ignominious harshness, which he bore with great magnanimity, but finally made a treaty with the emperor, by which, for the preservation of his life, he relinquished his kingdom to Maurice.
The landgrave was not strong enough to resist the power of Charles, after all his enemies were subdued, and he made his submission, though Charles extorted the most rigorous conditions, he being required to surrender his person, abandon the league of Smalcalde, implore pardon on his knees, demolish his fortifications, and pay an enormous fine. In short, it was an unconditional submission. Beside infinite mortifications, Captivity of the Landgrave of Hesse. he was detained a prisoner, which, on Charles's part, was but injury added to insult—an act of fraud and injustice which inspired the prince, and the Protestants, generally, with unbounded indignation. The Elector of Brandenburg and Maurice in vain solicited for his liberty, and showed the infamy to which he would be exposed if he detained the landgrave a prisoner. But the emperor listened to their remonstrances with the most provoking coolness, and showed very plainly that he was resolved to crush all rebellion, suppress Protestantism, and raise up an absolute throne in Germany, to the subversion of its ancient constitution.
To all appearances, his triumph was complete. His great rival was dead; his enemies were subdued and humiliated; Luther's voice was hushed; and immense contributions filled the imperial treasury. He now began to realize the dreams of his life. He was unquestionably, at that time, the most absolute and powerful prince Europe has ever seen since Charlemagne, with the exception of Napoleon.
But what an impressive moral does the history of human greatness convey! The hour of triumph is often but the harbinger of defeat and shame. "Pride goeth before destruction." Charles V., with all his policy and experience, overreached himself. The failure of his ambitious projects and the restoration of Protestantism, were brought about by instruments the least anticipated.
The cause of Protestantism and the liberties of Germany were endangered by the treachery of Maurice, who received, as his reward, the great electorate of Saxony. He had climbed to the summit of glory and power. Who would suppose that this traitor prince would desert the emperor, who had so splendidly rewarded his services, Heroism of Maurice.. and return to the rescue of those princes whom he had so basely betrayed? But who can thread the labyrinth of an intriguing and selfish heart? Who can calculate the movements of an unprincipled and restless politician? Maurice, at length, awoke to the perception of the real condition of his country. He saw its liberties being overturned by the most ambitious man whom ten centuries had produced. He saw the cause, which his convictions told him was the true one, in danger of being wrecked. He was, moreover, wounded by the pride, coldness, and undisguised selfishness of the emperor. He was indignant that the landgrave, his father-in-law, should be retained a prisoner, against all the laws of honor and of justice. He resolved to come to the rescue of his country. He formed his plans with the greatest coolness, and exercised a power of dissimulation that has no parallel in history. But his address was even greater than his hypocrisy. He gained the confidence of the Protestants, without losing that of the emperor. He even obtained the command of an army which Charles sent to reduce the rebellious city of Magdeburg, and, while he was besieging the city, he was negotiating with the generals who defended it for a general union against the emperor. Magdeburg surrendered in 1551. Its chieftains were secretly assured that the terms of capitulation should not be observed. His next point was, to keep the army together until his schemes were ripened, and then to arrest the emperor, whose thoughts now centred on the council of Trent. So he proposed sending Protestant divines to the council, but delayed their departure by endless negotiations about the terms of a safe conduct. He, moreover, formed a secret treaty with Henry II., the successor of Francis, whose animosity against Charles was as intense as was that of his father. When his preparations were completed, he joined his army in Thuringia, and took the field against the emperor, who had no suspicion of his designs, and who blindly trusted to him, deeming it impossible that a man, whom he had so honored and rewarded, could turn against him. March 18, 1552, Maurice published his manifesto, justifying his conduct; and his reasons were, to secure the Protestant religion, to maintain the constitution of the empire, and deliver the Landgrave of Hesse from bondage. He was powerfully supported by the French king, and, with a rapidly increasing army, marched towards Innspruck, where the emperor was quartered. Misfortunes of Charles. The emperor was thunderstruck when he heard the tidings of his desertion, and was in no condition to resist him. He endeavored to gain time by negotiations, but these were without effect. Maurice, at the head of a large army, advanced rapidly into Upper Germany. Castles and cities surrendered as he advanced, and so rapid was his progress, that he came near taking the emperor captive. Charles was obliged to fly, in the middle of the night, and to travel on a litter by torchlight, amid the passes of the Alps. He scarcely left Innspruck before Maurice entered it—but too late to gain the prize he sought. The emperor rallied his armies, and a vigorous war was carried on between the contending parties, to the advantage of the Protestants. The emperor, after a while, was obliged to make peace with them, for his Spanish subjects were disgusted with the war, his funds were exhausted, his forces dispersed, and his territories threatened by the French. On the 2d of August, 1552, was concluded the peace of Passau, which secured the return of the landgrave to his dominions, the freedom of religion to the Protestants, and the preservation of the German constitution. The sanguine hopes of the emperor were dispelled, and all his ambitious schemes defeated, and he left to meditate, in the intervals of the pains which he suffered from the gout, on the instability of all greatness, and the vanity of human life. Maurice was now extolled as extravagantly as he had been before denounced, and his treachery justified, even by grave divines. But what is most singular in the whole affair, was, that the French king, while persecuting Protestants at home, should protect them abroad. But this conduct may confirm, in a signal manner, the great truth of history, that God regulates the caprice of human passions, and makes them subservient to the accomplishment of his own purposes.
The labors and perplexities of Charles V. were not diminished by the Treaty of Passau. treaty of Passau. He continued his hostilities against the French and against the Turks. He was obliged to raise the siege of Metz, which was gallantly defended by the Duke of Guise. To his calamities in France, were added others in Italy. Sienna revolted against his government, and Naples was threatened by the Turks. The imperialists were unsuccessful in Italy and in Hungary, and the Archduke Ferdinand was obliged to abandon Transylvania. But war was carried on in the Low Countries with considerable vigor.
Charles, whose only passion was the aggrandizement of his house, now projected a marriage of his son, Philip, with Mary, queen of England. The queen, dazzled by the prospect of marrying the heir of the greatest monarch in Europe, and eager to secure his powerful aid to reëstablish Catholicism in England, listened to his proposal, although it was disliked by the nation. In spite of the remonstrance of the house of commons, the marriage treaty was concluded, and the marriage celebrated, (1554.)
Soon after, Charles formed the extraordinary resolution of resigning his dominions to his son, and of retiring to a quiet retreat. Diocletian is the only instance of a prince, capable of holding the reins of government, who had adopted a similar course. All Europe was astonished at the resolution of Charles, and all historians of the period have moralized on the event. Character of Charles V. But it ceases to be mysterious, when we remember that Charles was no nearer the accomplishment of the ends which animated his existence, than he was thirty years before; that he was disgusted and wearied with the world; that he suffered severely from the gout, which, at times, incapacitated him for the government of his extensive dominions. It was never his habit to intrust others with duties and labors which he could perform himself, and he felt that his empire needed a more powerful protector than his infirmities permitted him to be. He was grown prematurely old, he felt his declining health; longed for repose, and sought religious consolation. Of all his vast possessions, he only reserved an annual pension of one hundred thousand crowns; resigning Spain and the Low Countries into the hands of Philip, and the empire of Germany to his brother Ferdinand, who had already been elected as King of the Romans. He then set out for his retreat in Spain, which was the monastery of St. Justus, near Placentia, situated in a lovely vale, surrounded with lofty trees, watered by a small brook, and rendered attractive by the fertility of the soil, and the delightful temperature of the climate. Here he spent his last days in agricultural improvements and religious exercises, apparently regardless of that noisy world which he had deserted forever, and indifferent to those political storms which his restless ambition had raised. Here his grandeur and his worldly hopes were buried in preparing himself for the future world. He lived with great simplicity, for two years after his retreat, and died (1558,) from the effects of the gout, which, added to his great labors, had shattered his constitution. He was not what the world would call a great genius, like Napoleon; but he was a man of great sagacity, untiring industry, and respectable attainments. He was cautious, cold, and selfish; had but little faith in human virtue, and was a slave, in his latter days, to superstition. He was neither affable nor courteous, but was sincere in his attachments, and munificent in rewarding his generals and friends. He was not envious nor cruel, but inordinately ambitious, and intent on aggrandizing his family. This was his characteristic defect, and this, in a man so prominent and so favored by circumstances, was enough to keep Europe in a turmoil for nearly half a century.