DE MARIANI’S REVIEW OF THE INFLUENCE OF CHARLES V ON SPAIN
[1517-1556 A.D.]
Charles had been brought up by Adrian of Utrecht, later on inquisitor-general and afterwards pope. His first minister was Cardinal Ximenes de Cisneros, also inquisitor-general, the same who condemned 52,552 Spaniards, of whom 3,554 were burned. Thus Charles, by his upbringing and the counsels he received as soon as he became king, was imbued wholly with religious fanaticism and political tyranny. He was not long in showing himself an apt pupil of the two inquisitors.
In spite of the inquisitorial hecatombs which spread terror through Europe, there still existed men who defended public liberty. The last accents of a perishing liberty echoed in the words addressed by the cortes to Charles: “Remember, seigneur,” said they to the haughty prince, “that a king is servant to his subjects.”
Charles hearkened to this and vowed silently never to forget it, but he refrained from throwing it back into the face of this proud plebiscite, and contented himself with sowing corruption as much as terror. He succeeded in enervating popular energy, and gradually drew away into Flanders the vital part of the nation, there to destroy by force municipal liberties, while he confided the task of annihilating those of Spain to the grand inquisitor-general Adrian and the regent.
What astonishing activity, what wonderful audacity were the Spaniards now possessed with! Rest seemed impossible to these impetuous organisations; and not being able to fight at home, they hastened after Columbus. In 1510 the Castilian banner was hoisted at Darien by Vasco Nuñez Balboa, in 1519 it was planted in Mexico by Ferdinand Cortes, and in 1524 in Peru by Pizarro. Intrepid warriors, their audacity, their religious yet cruel fanaticism strike us with astonishment, and even their crimes cannot wholly suppress our admiration. In those far-off lands whose limits were yet unknown, the first conquerors lacked space. They seemed to be condemned by heaven to cut one another’s throats in expiation of their crimes.
The forced humility which Charles V had shown before the cortes of Valladolid weighed on his despotic heart. In haste to give the lie to those words, “The king is the servant of his people,” he threw aside his mask as soon as he felt strong enough to aim a blow at liberty. However, the Spaniards were not yet accustomed to his attempted tyranny. They rose in protest against this audacious violation of the oath. The perjured deputies were the first victims to popular justice.
A civil war seemed inevitable, the future of Spanish public liberty to hang on the fate of arms. Padilla put himself at the head of the members of the communes, but the isolation of the provinces, the want of a bond of communication between the various parties in the nation made this sublime attempt ineffectual. The privileged classes, save the bishop of Zamora, followed the orders of the Inquisition. Padilla, martyr to liberty, lost his head on the scaffold, and with him perished Castilian liberty.
In that very hour when Charles V was stifling resistance to despotism in the blood of the last representative of popular power, a new adversary was springing up in Germany. Luther lifted up his already powerful voice in the Diet of Worms, braved both pope and emperor, shook the Catholic faith, and developed that principle of reform which would, later on, separate the empire from the Roman church. In that same year then (1521) liberty, perishing in Spain, was reborn in Germany. So these two great figures in history, fighting sternly in Germany, appeared at the appointed day in the world’s theatre—one to destroy, the other to found liberty. One, emperor and king, a great warrior, an eminent politician, exercising most incontestable preponderance, conqueror at Pavia, master of Italy, feared by the Turks whom he had crushed, gave himself up to every despotic inspiration. He fulfilled the execrable mission of overthrowing liberty wherever his arm could reach. After thirty years of warfare, in which cunning, hypocrisy, and courage were alternately employed, Charles fell under the burden of sterile glory. His star had paled before Maurice of Saxony at Innsbruck, and before Henry II in the bishoprics. Reduced in 1552 to treat with his enemies at Passau, he whom the Diet of Frankfort had elected leader of Christianity militant ruined Spain, ravished her liberty and ended by hiding his discouragement and ennui in the depths of a cloister. He abdicated the Spanish throne in favour of his son, the imperial sceptre was committed to his brother, and Charles left nothing to posterity but the germ of all the evils developed by his successors.
Charles V filled the world with his glory, his name, and colossal power, yet never thought of creating a Spanish administration. If he wished to concentrate supreme power in his own hands, it was certainly not with any thought of improving the lot of his people, but only to wield a stronger instrument of tyranny. Surrounded by strangers, he never knew the needs of Spain nor cared to. All was sterile under his iron hand; slow to act, Charles never revoked a decision. Neither force nor danger could draw from him any concession. “I am naturally inclined to persist obstinately in my good ideas,” he said one day to Contarini. “Sire,” answered the other, “to persist in good ideas is not obstinacy, but firmness.” The emperor interrupted him, “But I also persist in bad ones.” In 1520, the taxes were so exorbitant that the towns declared they would have to increase the crown revenues without fixing new contributions, and without burdening, as they put it, the king’s conscience. This result, added the towns, would easily be attained if the prince would regulate his expenses by his revenue. The Catholic king spent 12,000 maravedis each day. Charles spent 150,000. Ordinary contributions did not suffice, but the cortes were opposed to new exactions. They would only vote subsidies after the redress of wrongs. In the cortes of Corunna of 1520, Charles found an obstinate resistance to voting for taxes. He triumphed, however, and soon rid himself of this embarrassing obstacle, and in 1528 forced the cortes to vote for subsidies before answering their demands. He dismissed the cortes of 1529 which opposed the fixing of new taxes; and again at Toledo, in 1538, he encountered opposition to his inroads.