Chapter XV: The Beginning of the Age of Slavery (1)

From 1530 to 1796, that is, for a period of nearly three
centuries, the Italians had no history of their own. Their
annals are filled with records of dynastic changes and
redistributions of territory, consequent upon treaties signed
by foreign powers, in the settlement of quarrels which nowise
concerned the people. Italy only too often became the theatre
of desolating and distracting wars. But these wars were fought
for the most part by alien armies; the points at issue were
decided beyond the Alps; the gains accrued to royal families
whose names were unpronounceable by southern tongues. That the
Italians had created modern civilisation for Europe availed
them nothing. Italy, intellectually first among the peoples,
was now politically and practically last; and nothing to her
historian is more heart-rending than to watch the gradual
extinction of her spirit in this age of slavery.--J. A.
SYMONDS.[b]

[Sidenote: [1530-1600 A.D.]]

The first circumstance, after the fall of Florence, which interrupted the ignominious repose of Italy, was the renewal of hostilities between Francis I and the emperor. During the expedition of Charles V against Tunis, the French monarch availed himself of the distraction of the imperial strength to commence his offensive operations. His troops broke into the territories of the duke of Savoy, against whom he had some causes of dissatisfaction, and easily wrested all Savoy, and the greater part of Piedmont, from that feeble prince; while the imperialists took possession of the remainder of his states, under pretence of defending them. Meanwhile the death of Francesco Sforza, who left no posterity, revived the long wars for the possession of the Milanese state. On the one hand, Francis I, alleging that he had only ceded that duchy to Sforza and his descendants, insisted that his rights returned to him in full force by the decease of that prince without issue; on the other, Charles V anticipated his designs by seizing the duchy as a lapsed fief of the empire. Francis I, after some hollow negotiations with his crafty rival, once more staked the decision of his pretensions on a trial of arms. Lombardy became again the theatre of furious contests between the French and the imperialists; but the usual fortunes of Francis still pursued him; and although his troops inflicted a sanguinary defeat on their opponents in the battle of Cerisole, the fruits of their victory were lost by the necessity, under which the French monarch was placed, of turning his strength to the defence of the northern frontiers of his own kingdom. The peace of Crespy, in 1544, left Charles in possession of Lombardy; and though Francis still retained part of the dominions of the duke of Savoy, the despotic authority of his rival over Italy remained unshaken.

[Sidenote: [1535-1554 A.D.]]

The tranquillity restored to the peninsula by the peace of Crespy was not materially disturbed for several years. This period was indeed signalised by the abortive conspiracy of Fiesco at Genoa, and earlier by the separation of Parma and Piacenza from the papal dominions, and their erection into a sovereign duchy. These territories, which originally formed part of the Milanese states, had first been annexed to the holy see by the conquests of Julius II; they had frequently changed masters in the subsequent convulsions of Italy; and their possession had finally been confirmed to the papacy by the consent of Francesco Sforza. By the subserviency of the sacred college, the reigning pontiff, Paul III, of the family of Farnese, was suffered to detach these valuable dependencies from the holy see, and to bestow them upon his son with the ducal dignity. But neither the trifling change which was wrought in the divisions of Lombardy by the creation of the duchy of Parma and Piacenza, nor the dangerous conspiracy of Fiesco, affected the general aspect and the quietude of Italy.

Shortly after the death of Pope Paul III, however, the determination of the emperor to spoil his family obliged Ottavio Farnese, the reigning duke of Parma, to throw himself into the arms of Henry II, the new monarch of France; and thus a new war was kindled in Lombardy and Piedmont, in which the French appeared, as the defenders of Ottavio, against the forces of Charles V and of the new pope, Julius III (1551). The war of Parma produced no memorable event, until it was extended into Tuscany by the revolt of Siena against the grievous oppression of the Spanish garrison, which the people had themselves introduced to curb the tyranny of the aristocratical faction of their republic. After expelling their Spanish masters, the Sienese invited the aid of the French for the maintenance of their liberties against the emperor (1552).[c]

THE SIEGE AND FALL OF SIENA

[Sidenote: [1554 A.D.]]

Cosmo I, duke of Florence, had promised to remain neutral in the war lighted up anew between the French and the imperialists; he nevertheless, on the 27th of January, 1554, attacked, without any declaration of war, the Sienese, whose city he hoped to take by surprise. Having failed in this attack, he gave the command to the ferocious Medecino, marquis of Marignano, who undertook to reduce it by famine. The first act of Marignano was to massacre without mercy all the women, children, aged, and sick, whom the Sienese, beginning to feel the want of provisions, had sent out of the town; every peasant discovered carrying provisions into Siena was immediately hung before its gates. The villages and fortresses of the Sienese, for the most part, attempted to remain faithful to the republic; but in all those which held out until the cannon was planted against their walls, the inhabitants were inhumanly put to death.[d]

To oppose Marignano, and the formidable army which he assembled, the king of France made choice of Pietro Strozzi, a Florentine nobleman, who had resided long in France as an exile, and who had risen by his merit to high reputation as well as command in the army. He was the son of Filippo Strozzi, who, in the year 1537, had concurred with such ardour in the attempt to expel the family of Medici out of Florence, in order to re-establish the ancient republican form of government, and who had perished in the undertaking. The son inherited the implacable aversion of the Medici, as well as the same enthusiastic zeal for the liberty of Florence which had animated his father, whose death he was impatient to revenge. Henry flattered himself that his army would make rapid progress under a general whose zeal to promote his interest was roused and seconded by such powerful passions; especially as he had allotted him, for the scene of action, his native country, in which he had many powerful partisans, ready to facilitate all his operations.

But how specious soever the motives might appear which induced Henry to make this choice, it proved fatal to the interests of France in Italy. Cosmo, as soon as he heard that the mortal enemy of his family was appointed to take the command in Tuscany, concluded that the king of France aimed at something more than the protection of the Sienese, and saw the necessity of making extraordinary efforts not merely to reduce Siena, but to save himself from destruction. At the same time the cardinal of Ferrara, who had the entire direction of the French affairs in Italy, considered Strozzi as a formidable rival in power, and, in order to prevent his acquiring any increase of authority from success, he was extremely remiss in supplying him either with money to pay his troops, or with provisions to support them. Strozzi himself, blinded by his resentment against the Medici, pushed on his operations with the impetuosity of revenge, rather than with the caution and prudence becoming a great general.

At first, however, he attacked several towns in the territory of Florence with such vigour as obliged Medecino, in order to check his progress, to withdraw the greater part of his army from Siena, which he had invested before Strozzi’s arrival in Italy. As Cosmo sustained the whole burden of military operations, the expense of which must soon have exhausted his revenues; as neither the viceroy of Naples nor governor of Milan was in condition to afford him any effectual aid; and as the troops which Medecino had left in the camp before Siena could attempt nothing against it during his absence, it was Strozzi’s business to have protracted the war, and to have transferred the seat of it into the territories of Florence; but the hope of ruining his enemy by one decisive blow precipitated him into a general engagement, not far from Marciano. The armies were nearly equal in number; but a body of Italian cavalry, in which Strozzi placed great confidence, having fled without making any resistance, either through the treachery or the cowardice of the officers who commanded it, his infantry remained exposed to the attacks of all Medecino’s troops. Encouraged, however, by Strozzi’s presence and example, who, after receiving a dangerous wound in endeavouring to rally the cavalry, placed himself at the head of the infantry, and manifested an admirable presence of mind, as well as extraordinary valour, they stood their ground with great firmness, and repulsed such of the enemy as ventured to approach them. But those gallant troops being surrounded at last on every side, and torn in pieces by a battery of cannon which Medecino brought to bear upon them, the Florentine cavalry broke in on their flanks, and a general rout ensued. Strozzi, faint with the loss of blood, and deeply affected with the fatal consequences of his own rashness, found the utmost difficulty in making his escape with a handful of men.

Medecino returned immediately to the siege of Siena with his victorious forces, and as Strozzi could not, after the greatest efforts of activity, collect so many men as to form the appearance of a regular army, he had leisure to carry on his approaches against the town without molestation. But the Sienese, instead of sinking into despair upon this cruel disappointment of their only hope of obtaining relief, prepared to defend themselves to the utmost extremity, with that undaunted fortitude which the love of liberty alone can inspire. This generous resolution was warmly seconded by Montluc, who commanded the French garrison in the town. The active and enterprising courage which he had displayed on many occasions had procured him this command; and as he had ambition which aspired to the highest military dignities, without any pretensions to attain them but what he could derive from merit, he determined to distinguish his defence of Siena by extraordinary efforts of valour and perseverance. For this purpose, he repaired and strengthened the fortifications with unwearied industry; he trained the citizens to the use of arms, and accustomed them to go through the fatigues and dangers of service in common with the soldiers; and as the enemy were extremely strict in guarding all the avenues to the city, he husbanded the provisions in the magazines with the most parsimonious economy, and prevailed on the soldiers, as well as the citizens, to restrict themselves to a very moderate daily allowance for their subsistence. Medecino, though his army was not numerous enough to storm the town by open force, ventured twice to assault it by surprise; but he was received each time with so much spirit, and repulsed with such loss, as discouraged him from repeating the attempt, and left him no hopes of reducing the town but by famine.

[Sidenote: [1554-1556 A.D.]]

With this view he fortified his camp with great care, occupied all the posts of strength round the place, and having cut off the besieged from any communication with the adjacent country, he waited patiently until necessity should compel them to open their gates. But their enthusiastic zeal for liberty made the citizens despise the distresses occasioned by the scarcity of provisions, and supported them long under all the miseries of famine: Montluc, by his example and exhortations, taught his soldiers to vie with them in patience and abstinence; and it was not until they had withstood a siege of ten months, until they had eaten up all the horses, dogs, and other animals in the place, and were reduced almost to their last morsel of bread, that they proposed a capitulation (1555). Even then they demanded honourable terms; and as Cosmo, though no stranger to the extremity of their condition, was afraid that despair might prompt them to venture upon some wild enterprise, he immediately granted them conditions more favourable than they could have expected.

The capitulation was made in the emperor’s name, who engaged to take the republic of Siena under the protection of the empire; he promised to maintain the ancient liberties of the city, to allow the magistrates the full exercise of their former authority, to secure the citizens in the undisturbed possession of their privileges and property; he granted an ample and unlimited pardon to all who had borne arms against him; he reserved to himself the right of placing a garrison in the town, but engaged not to rebuild the citadel without the consent of the citizens. Montluc and his French garrison were allowed to march out with all the honours of war.

Medecino observed the articles of capitulation, as far as depended on him, with great exactness. No violence or insult whatever was offered to the inhabitants, and the French garrison was treated with all the respect due to their spirit and bravery. But many of the citizens suspecting, from the extraordinary facility with which they had obtained such favourable conditions, that the emperor, as well as Cosmo, would take the first opportunity of violating them, and disdaining to possess a precarious liberty, which depended on the will of another, abandoned the place of their nativity, and accompanied the French to Montalcino, Porto Ercole, and other small towns in the territory of the republic. They established in Montalcino the same model of government to which they had been accustomed at Siena, and appointing magistrates with the same titles and jurisdiction, solaced themselves with this image of their ancient liberty.[e]

[Sidenote: [1556-1557 A.D.]]

The Spaniards retained possession of Siena for two years, and did not surrender it to the duke of Florence until the 19th of July, 1557. After the subjugation of Siena, there remained in Italy only three republics, Lucca, Genoa, and Venice, unless it may be permitted to reckon San Marino, a free village, situated on the summit of a mountain of Romagna, which has alike escaped both usurpation and history until our own time.[d]

In the same year that witnessed the fall of Siena (1565), Charles V began putting into execution his intention to abdicate the various crowns of his vast dominions.

AN ITALIAN ESTIMATE OF THE ABDICATION OF CHARLES V

It has never been doubted that the ambition of Charles V was great and insatiable, and that this alone was his dominant passion. It was therefore a greater marvel that he should voluntarily despoil himself of all authority and dignity. But a close examination of the question will show that his action had its origin in that very ambition. After thirty years of continual warfare, journeys, negotiations, and perils, he realised that he was no happier than before, and perhaps higher motives prompted him to think upon the vanity and frailty of human greatness; or satiety and weariness having disgusted him with kingship and power, he thought to win the praise of men by other means, and to seek tranquillity and repose in private life.

But it is most probable that after his reverses in Germany Charles recognised the impossibility of attaining to that absolute monarchy which he longed for, and experienced in himself that change of feeling to which the human heart is naturally inclined; and that the excessive longing for sovereignty over the whole world was succeeded by total lethargy and a longing for quiet and inaction, more especially as he was suffering from ill health and was beginning to feel the weight of years. The care which he had taken to accustom Prince Philip, his only son, to the cares of government, sending him to Italy and investing him with the duchy of Milan in 1540, might lead one to believe that he had long since conceived and matured the design of renouncing his authority before he died; and that he would have done so much sooner if matters had been in such a state that he could have withdrawn with dignity, and without laying himself open to a charge of weakness.

In the meanwhile Henry II, no more resolved to keep peace with Charles V than firmly persuaded that this was the sincere desire of the latter, had leagued himself with the German princes, the enemies of the emperor, and hostilities were begun on both sides without any formal declaration of war. Thus while the French attacked Toul, Verdun, and Metz in Lower Germany, the German allies, whose chief leaders were Maurice, duke and elector of Saxony, Duke Albert of Mecklenburg, and Albert of Brandenburg, markgraf of Kulmbach and Bayreuth, showed such spirit in their encounter with the imperial army in the direction of the Tyrol that the emperor himself, surprised at Innsbruck, withdrew hastily into Dalmatia to the lands of his brother Ferdinand, leaving all his baggage as spoil to the enemy. This fresh blow further confirmed him in his resolution to withdraw from the world. After the flight from Innsbruck it was observed that he suffered from a melancholy humour, and in Villach in Carinthia shut himself in his room for several days, giving no audiences and despatching no business. Having recruited his army he marched towards Flanders, where he vainly attempted to besiege Metz, which was occupied by the king of France. Still further saddened by this proof of his altered fortune, he almost entirely abandoned the administration of his dominions, partly to Prince Philip and partly to his favourite the bishop of Arras, and his sister the widowed queen of Hungary.

[Sidenote: [1555-1556 A.D.]]

In order to evade the cares of government, which had now become distasteful to him, he reduced himself to a private house in Brussels, where, says Segin,[g] “he took great interest in clock-making, delighting in such machinery and in talking with the workmen and watching their work.” He began the formal abdication of his crown by making over the kingdom of Naples to his son (1554). Julius III approved this abdication, and received in the name of King Philip the homage paid to him by the kings of Naples as feudatories of the holy see. Thus the states of Milan and Naples changed their ruler somewhat earlier than Spain. But this separation of the kingdom of Naples and duchy of Milan from Spain, to which they were justly united, the former because of the ancient right of the king of Aragon, and the latter because of the will of Charles, who bestowed it upon the heir presumptive of the throne of Spain, was only temporary, for the next year (1555) Charles further bestowed the Low Countries upon his son, and a little later (1556) the kingdom of Spain and the dominions of the new world.[f]

RENEWED HOSTILITIES; THE TREATY OF CATEAU-CAMBRÉSIS

At the time of the abdication of Charles V the flames of war which had raged in Europe with such intense violence during the greater part of his long reign seemed already expiring in their embers. But they were rekindled in Italy, almost immediately after the accession of Philip II, by the fierce passions of Paul IV, a rash and violent pontiff. In his indignation at the opposition which Charles V had raised against his election, and moreover to gratify the ambition of his family, Paul IV had already instigated Henry II of France to join him in a league to ruin the imperial power in Italy; and he now, in concert with the French monarch, directed against Philip II the hostile measures which he had prepared against his father.

Philip II, that most odious of tyrants, whose atrocious cruelty and imbecile superstition may divide the judgment between execration and contempt, shrank with horror from the impiety of combating the pontiff, whom he had regarded as the vicegerent of God upon earth. He therefore vainly exhausted every resource of negotiation, before he was reconciled by the opinion of the Spanish ecclesiastics, whom he anxiously consulted, to the lawfulness of engaging in such a contest. At length he was prevailed upon to suffer the duke of Alva to lead the veteran Spanish bands from the kingdom of Naples into the papal territories. The advance of Alva to the gates of Rome, however, struck consternation into the sacred college; and the haughty and obstinate pontiff was compelled by the terror of his cardinals to conclude a truce with the Spanish general, which he immediately broke on learning the approach of a superior French army under the duke de Guise (1556).

[Sidenote: [1556-1557 A.D.]]

This celebrated captain of France, to whom the project was confided of conquering the kingdom of Naples from the Spaniards, was, however, able to accomplish nothing in Italy which accorded with his past and subsequent fame. Crossing the Alps at the head of twenty thousand men, he penetrated, without meeting any resistance, through Lombardy and Tuscany to the ecclesiastical capital. If he could effect the reduction of the kingdom of Naples, it was imagined that the Spanish provinces in northern Italy must fall of themselves; and having, therefore, left the Milanese duchy unassailed behind him, he passed on from Rome to the banks of the Garigliano, where he found Alva posted with an inferior force to oppose him. The wily caution of the Spanish general and the patient valour of his troops disconcerted the impetuosity of the French and the military skill of their gallant leader: and disease had already begun to make fearful havoc in the ranks of the invaders, when Guise was recalled, by the victory of the Spaniards at St. Quentin, to defend the frontiers of France.[c]

The confusion at Rome was great. But the pope, though considerably grieved, gave no external sign of being disturbed or alarmed. “The ambassador of France has just assured me,” wrote the bishop of Anglone on the 25th of August, 1557, “that the pope felt greatly the constable’s defeat, and is troubled; yet in spite of his affliction he does not say cease, but that his courage is greater than ever, and, from what he sees and believes, his holiness is more than ever disposed to continue the friendly relations, as he well knows he cannot bear the cost alone and has need of the king’s aid.” Nevertheless, Paul IV could not be unmindful that he was left alone to face the victorious enemy, bolder in their pretensions, as they knew themselves superior to their adversary.

The pope therefore took the resolution of checking the victorious march of the duke of Alva, and saving Rome by coming to terms. Cardinal Caraffa attempted through the medium of Alessandro Placidi to negotiate with the Spanish viceroy, but the conditions imposed were too onerous to be accepted by the pontifical court. Cosmo intervened in favour of the latter, being anxious for peace, and a peace was signed upon most honourable terms for the pope, who through the sagacity of Silvestro Aldobrandini recovered all he had lost, and was enabled to confirm the sentences against the rebellious vassals, while King Philip promised to send a solemn embassy to him, asking grace and pardon.

[Sidenote: [1557-1558 A.D.]]

But in a secret article of the treaty (an article which the pope ignored), the duchy of Paliano, the apparent cause of the war, remained in the hands of the Spanish. The duke of Alva had therefore to repair to Rome, and, though much against his will, was forced to bow before the pontiff and ask pardon for having made war on the church. The pope, who could hardly believe that he was free from a war into which he had been dragged without foreseeing all the consequences, received him with great benignity and sent the _rosa benedetta_ to his wife the vice-queen. The duke of Ferrara was not included in the peace, but Cosmo prevailed upon Philip to receive him into favour, which was to the great advantage of the duke, who was now on friendly terms with the Venetians, having taken part in the fight between the pope and Spain without the republic’s consent, and who saw himself threatened by Duke Ottavio Farnese, anxious to enlarge his dominions at the expense of the house of Este; while his people, exhausted by a disastrous war, ardently longed for peace.

De Guise left Rome on the same day as the duke of Alva entered the town; he proceeded in all haste to France, where his arrival was eagerly looked for, and was appointed lieutenant-general with full powers. At the head of the French army he entered the field, though the season was far advanced. While feigning to bear down on the frontier of Flanders, he suddenly turned and fell upon Calais, the last place which the English held in France--an important dominion, as it secured them an easy and safe passage into the heart of the country. In eight days De Guise took possession of the place; a success due not so much to valour as to his usual foresight, he having seized the moment when the fort was left denuded of its garrison. This victory avenged St. Quentin and partly smoothed the way to a general peace.

First a truce was spoken of, then a general disarming, then a disbanding of foreign troops; but ultimately the two powers appointed their plenipotentiaries, who on the 12th of October, 1558, assembled at Cercamps, to formulate their proposals. Negotiations were long and difficult, especially respecting the question of the possession of Calais, being suspended on the 17th of November, 1558, on account of the death of Mary Tudor, queen of England; they were resumed at Cateau-Cambrésis in the following year, and finally peace was signed between England and France in the first place, between France and Spain in the second. The conditions were as follows: France restored Marienburg, Thionville, Damvillers, Montmédy, in exchange for St. Quentin, Ham, Catalet, and Thérouanne; she kept Calais and restored without compensation Bovigny and Bouillon to the bishop of Liège, while Philip kept Hesdin. In Italy the French evacuated Montferrat, Milan, Corsica, Montalcino, Siena, Piedmont, excepting the forts of Turin, Chieri, Pinerolo, Chivasso, Villanova d’Asti, which she held in pledge, and which by the Treaty of Fossano, signed by the cardinal of Lorraine in the name of the king of France, were restored to Emmanuel Philibert in exchange for the forts of Savigliano and Perosa.

[Sidenote: [1558-1565 A.D.]]

The Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis left Savoy, Bresse, and Bugey free, but not so the duchy of Saluzzo, which held by France was occupied by Henry IV and definitely abandoned to Piedmont in 1601, in exchange for Bresse and Bugey. The restitution of the forts of Piedmont on the part of France put the seal on the separation of this power from northern Italy. Two marriages were arranged to make the peace binding, one between Philip II, left a widower a short time previously, and Elizabeth of Valois, eldest daughter of Henry, and the other between Margaret, sister of the latter, and the duke of Savoy.

The Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, completed fifty years later by that of Vervins, was the fundamental treaty of Europe until the Treaty of Westphalia. Few diplomatic acts have had such lasting results. The convention of the 2nd of April, 1559, answered the momentary needs of Europe; defined the limits of the possessions of every nation; broke the power of the house of Habsburg, which inclined to universal monarchy; lessened the authority of Philip II in Italy and the Low Countries, and compelled the said monarch to keep within the limits of the Iberian peninsula; and assured liberty to the rest of Europe, so recently threatened by the omnipotence of Charles V.[h]

But in its consequences to Italy, this famous treaty was particularly important. To detach the duke of Parma from the French interest during the late war, Philip had already restored to him the part of his states which Charles V had formerly seized: to confirm the fidelity of Cosmo I, afterwards grand duke of Tuscany, he had assigned Siena to the sceptre of the Medici, and retained only in Tuscany the small maritime district which was destined to form a Spanish province, under the title of _lo stato degli presidi_--the state of the garrisons. The general pacification confirmed these cessions of Philip; it also restored to the house of Savoy the greater part of its possessions, which the French and Spanish kings engaged to evacuate; and it left the kingdom of Naples and the duchy of Milan under the recognised sovereignty of Spain.

Thus the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis may be considered to have finally regulated the limit and the existence of these Italian principalities and provinces which, under despotic government, whether native or foreign, had embraced almost the whole surface of the peninsula; and it left only the shadow of republican freedom to Venice, Genoa, Lucca, and--if it be worth naming--to the petty community of San Marino in the ecclesiastical states. But this same pacification is yet more remarkable, as the era from which Italy ceased to be the theatre of contention between the monarchs of Spain and Germany and France, in their struggle for the mastery of continental Europe. Other regions were now to be scathed by their ambition, and other countries were to succeed to that inheritance of warfare and all its calamities, of which Italy had reaped, and was yet to reap, only the bitterest fruits.[c]

A new phase now began for Italy; she no longer resisted servitude but became resigned, nay hastened to it. That same brilliant genius that had strayed in the slippery paths of the Renaissance expiated its pagan scepticism in the rigours of penitence and sometimes in the weaknesses of superstition.

Pius IV set the example of resignation. Entirely occupied in embellishing Rome, he had built the Porta Pia, opened up the via Montecavallo; protected the coasts against barbaric pirates by the Borgo, Ancona, and Cività-Vecchia fortifications, and had no other object than peace in his relations with foreign powers. Solicited by the Savoy ambassador to help his master in recovering Geneva, now turned Protestant, “What are we coming to,” he said to him, “that such propositions should be made to me? I desire above all things peace.” He was convinced that the holy see could not long maintain itself without help from the princes, and above all made much of those who reigned over Italy. He thought once of conferring the title of king on Cosmo, or at least of making him archduke. He refused nothing to his vassal Philip II for the kingdom of Naples, and allowed him to oppose the formality of the _exequatur_ to his own decrees. Still less did he combat the measures which the king took in Milan to restrain the privileges left by Charles V to the senate and the last communal liberties.

[Sidenote: [1563-1572 A.D.]]

The holy see, it is true, gained spiritually what she lost temporally. In the last sessions of the Council of Trent, which she had the glory of reopening in 1563, Pope Pius IV, by politic concessions made to the prince, strengthened the religious reforms which it had seemed possible might be seized from him. By ceasing to invoke his right over crowned heads he obtained one thing--there was no more talk of reforming the church by reforming the head of it. The council, instead of putting itself above him, bowed before his authority. Not only was tradition maintained, and dogma in all its rigour, but the power of the holy see in all of its Catholicity was raised and extended. The pope remained sole judge of the changes to be worked in discipline, was infallible in matters of faith, supreme interpreter of canons, uncontested head of bishops, and Rome could console herself for the definite loss of a part of Europe by seeing her power doubled in the Catholic nations of the south who rallied religiously round her.

The lay sovereigns of Italy had not this compensation. Cosmo de’ Medici could freely restrain by terror his subjects of Florence and Siena, who still feared him. He could fortify Grossetto, Leghorn; found the order of the cavaliers of St. Stephen against pirates; construct galleys, hollow out canals, irrigate and try to repeople and make the Maremma healthy; but in seizing the little town of Foligliano from Niccolo Orsini he roused the discontent of the sovereigns, and did not appease them save by accepting the hand of the archduchess Johanna, an Austrian princess, for his son. The duke of Savoy, Emmanuel Philibert, who had given a victory to Philip II over the king of France at St. Quentin, recovered, through favour of the troubles in France, all his Piedmontese towns. But neither from the king of Spain nor the pope did he obtain the help he needed to reduce Geneva.

Under Pope Pius V (1566) the work of Catholic restoration and weakening of the peninsula was finished. This holy but inflexible old man, admired by the people for his always bare head, long white beard, and countenance beaming with piety, got the Roman Inquisition admitted into all the Italian states, and severely watched over faith and customs. Bishops were bound to keep in residence, monks and nuns forced to strict seclusion. The Collegium Germanicum, founded by the Jesuits, became a forcing house for priests for Italy and Germany. Abuses had partly disappeared; scandals diminished in Rome. Cardinals eminent for their piety gave tone to the Roman court--among these the politic Gallio di Como, the administrator Salviati, San Severino, the man of the Inquisition, and Madruzzi, surnamed the Cato of the sacred college. Tiepolo, the Venetian ambassador, a little later rendered the Holy City this witness: “Rome strives to conquer the disrepute into which she had fallen; she has now become more Christian in her customs and manner of living.” In Lombardy, the archbishop of Milan, Carlo Borromeo, a worthy emulator of Pius V, did not content himself with reforming the churches and clergy, the monks and nuns. He restrained public amusement, watched over the regularity of marriages and the general conduct of the laity: his zeal even led him beyond the limit of his powers. He aspired to lend his religious decrees the aid of military force, and the governor of Milan bowed to the ascendency of a zeal free from all political ambition.

This reform, quite ecclesiastical and for discipline, had not, unfortunately, anything practical or strong. Worship was re-established without reformation of men’s characters. The faith was strengthened without correction of manners. Minds were dominated without souls being uplifted. One great action stands out during this epoch. Pius V determined a league against the Turks and among the Italian and Spanish states. Under the leadership of Don John, the vassals of Venice, Genoa, Tuscany, Naples, and the church states carried a glorious victory at Lepanto (1571).[i] So great and so glorious was this victory, that we must give it more than passing notice. As one of the great decisive battles between the Orient and the Occident, it had really world-historical significance. We shall adopt the enthusiastic narrative of the Spanish historian Lafuente.[a]

A SPANISH ACCOUNT OF THE BATTLE OF LEPANTO

[Sidenote: [1571 A.D.]]

The Turkish fleet in Lepanto had been reinforced with ships, victuals, artillery, and soldiers drawn from the Morea and Modon, so that it numbered no less than 240 galleys, and a multitude of galiots, foists, and other craft, with 120,000 men, soldiers and rowers. Pertev Pasha and Ali Uluch, as also the viceroy of Alexandria and other Turkish generals, counselled Ali Pasha not to fight or to risk in one battle the loss of the conquests made in Cyprus. But Ali, as commander-in-chief of the fleet, rejected their advice as cowardly. The reason of this was that a famous corsair, disguised as a fisherman, had been able to approach and reconnoitre the Christian galleys, and whether to encourage the Mussulmans, or because he had not seen the whole fleet, had greatly underestimated their numbers, and had assured the pasha of a certain, indeed almost infallible victory.

Don John’s generals, amongst whom were Giovanni Andrea Doria, Ascanio de la Corna, and Sebastian Veniero, also feared engaging in a battle; and some, declaring that it would be rashness, came forward to advise him to retreat. “Gentlemen,” replied the son of Charles V, “it is no longer the hour for advising, but for fighting;” and he continued disposing the order of battle.

Besides his natural valour, his confidence had been heightened by the report he had received that Ali Uluch, the Algerian, had separated from the Turkish fleet. Both commanders were deceived and confident, both counted on the victory, both were equally anxious for battle; it would seem that they were moved by a mysterious force. Don John passed from ship to ship encouraging the Christians. “Brothers,” he cried in sonorous accents to the Spaniards, “we are here to vanquish or die, if God so wishes it. Do not give your arrogant enemy occasion to cry out with haughty impiety, ‘Where is your God?’ Fight with faith in his holy name; killed or victorious, you shall enjoy immortality.” And to the Venetians: “The day has come to avenge insults; you hold in your hands the remedy to your sufferings, wield your swords with courage and anger.” And the fire of his words inflamed the hearts of the combatants with warlike ardour.

Ali Pasha, who was confident of victory, thinking that the whole of the Christian fleet was in sight, when the greater part of it was hidden from him by the Curzolari Islands, was dumfounded, and cursed the corsair who had deceived him, when upon his sailing into the open he discovered its magnitude, saw the multitude of sails and the admirable order in which it was disposed.

Don John also perceived that he had been mistaken in the number of the enemy’s ships, and that it was uncertain whether Ali Uluch had deserted; he fully weighed the danger into which he had run, but remembered who he was, fixed his eyes on a crucifix which he always wore, then raised them to heaven, and placing his trust in God resolved to fight with the presentiment of victory. The wind, which at first had been contrary to the Christians, presently turned against the infidels, rendering the operations of their ships difficult, and being favourable to the Christian fleet, which raised their courage. Among other things Don John caused the beakheads of all the galleys to be cut away, commencing with his own flag-ship, which measure, as afterwards proved, was of great advantage.

Six Venetian galleasses sailed as a vanguard, the left wing formed of sixty galleys was commanded by the _provveditore_ Barbarigo; Giovanni Andrea Doria commanded the right which was composed of nearly an equal number of sail; in the centre division, composed of sixty-three galleys, was the generalissimo Don John of Austria in his flag-ship, having on each side the two generals of Rome and Venice, Colonna and Veniero, and in the rear his lieutenant, Requesens, chief knight commander of Castile. The rear-guard or relief squadron, of thirty-five galleys, was commanded by Don Alvaro de Bazan, marquis of Santa Cruz.

The Turkish fleet, more numerous than the Christian, formed a half moon and was also divided into three bodies. The right, of fifty-five galleys, was commanded by the viceroy of Alexandria, Muhammed Siroko; the left wing, composed of ninety-three, by Ali Uluch of Algiers, and the two pashas, Pertev and Ali, were in the centre with ninety-six sail, with their corresponding relief force or rear-guard. So that each division faced the corresponding division of the enemy, and the standard of the Grand Turk fluttered in front of the holy standard of the league.

The wind had fallen, the waters of the gulf were tranquil, and the sun shone out from a blue and clear sky, as though God wished that no element should disturb the struggle of men, that nature should oppose no obstacle to the battle which was to decide the triumph of the cross or the crescent. If the reflection of the polished arms, the shining shields, and burnished helmets of the Christians dazzled the Mussulmans, the eyes of the allies were wounded by the gilded poop lanterns, the silver and gold inscriptions of the Turkish standards, the stars, the moon, the double-edged scimitars, which shone from the ships of the Ottoman admirals. Nothing could be discerned on the horizon but banners and pendants of varied colours. For a brief space the two fleets surveyed one another in mutual wonder; this impressive silence was broken by a broadside discharged from Ali’s galley, which was answered by another from Don John’s flag-ship.

The first boom of the artillery, which was the signal for battle, was followed instantly by the usual clamour and shouting, with which the Moors commence a fight. The Turkish right wing commanded by the viceroy of Alexandria first engaged with the Christian left, commanded by the _provveditore_ Barbarigo. The Venetians fought unshielded with the furious courage and passion of men fighting the murderers of their compatriots. Doria the Genoese engaged with Ali Uluch the Algerian, who captured the flag-ship of Malta, and put all her defenders to the sword, with the exception of the prior and two other knights, who, covered with wounds, were saved by being counted among the dead.

Ali Pasha and Don John of Austria sought each other with equal hatred, until with a terrible shock their two galleys rushed together, the fire of the artillery and arquebuses from the Spanish ship doing deadly work on the men of the Turkish galley. The action became general, and the contending galleys changed about; the sea was white with the foam of the troubled waves, the smoke of the artillery and arquebuses darkened the sky, turned midday into night, the sparks flying from the swords and shields as they clashed together seemed like lightning flashing from black clouds. Ships were engulfed in the waves, Turks and Christians fell in a muddled heap, clasped together like brothers, with the hatred of enemies, by the side of a sinking ship; greedy flames devoured others; a Turkish ship would be seen flying a Christian flag, and a Spanish galley guided by a Turkish commandant. Swords broken, they fought hand to hand; all was destruction and death, until the sea became reddened with blood. “Never,” says the author of the _Memories of Lepanto_, “had the Mediterranean witnessed on her bosom, nor shall the world again see, a conflict so obstinate, a butchery so terrible, men so valiant and so enraged.”

With his youthful and untiring arm Don John of Austria wielded his sword unceasingly, his person being ever exposed to danger; youthful also in the battle appeared the veteran Sebastian Veniero; Colonna did justice to his illustrious name; Requesens showed himself a worthy lieutenant of the valiant prince Don John; the prince of Parma proved that the blood of Charles V ran in his veins; the wounds he received did not check Urbino; Figueroa, Zapata, Carillo, every captain of the flag-ship worked like men well used to battle, setting little value on their lives, when the flag-ship was hard pressed, because Ali and Pertev Pasha also fought like heroes with their janissaries.

Don Alvaro de Bazan came to the rescue, as though his galley was moved by lightning, and mowed down Mussulmans, clearing all before him, though balls turned against his shield. Like a whirlwind he moved, nor did his fire slacken though ships were engulfed at his side and captains fell lifeless before him. Ali Uluch held Doria in desperate conflict; the marquis of Santa Cruz, leaving the flag-ship in safety, rushed to his assistance, regained the flag-ship of Malta, relieved the Genoese, and put the Algerian to ignominious flight.

It is impossible to relate the special deeds of prowess of every captain and every soldier in the stupendous struggle, in which the janissaries, who held themselves to be the most valiant warriors of the world, were to learn that there were Christian soldiers more valiant, more audacious, and more daring than they. Nevertheless we cannot omit making special mention of a Spanish soldier who, prostrated with fever on board Giovanni Andrea Doria’s galley, but feeling a more fierce fever burning in his breast, that is to say, the fire of courage and the desire of battle, left his bed and begged the captain to station him at the post of greatest danger. In vain his comrades, in vain the captain himself, tried to convince him that he was more in a condition to be curing his body than exposing it to danger. The soldier insisted, the soldier fought valiantly, the soldier was wounded in the breast and left hand, but yet he would not retreat, for the maxim of this soldier was, that wounds received in battle are stars which guide to the heaven of glory. The stubborn soldier stood firm, and could not be prevailed upon to retire that he might be attended to, until his galley had ceased to battle, the captain Francisco de San Pedro being killed in the fight. The reader will understand why, in the midst of numerous other deeds of prowess, we have singled that of this soldier in particular, for he will have divined that this soldier was no other than Miguel de Cervantes, who, then unknown to the world as a soldier, became afterwards famous as a writer.

But it is now time to draw this furious fight to a close, the result of it being for a time doubtful. The Turks had already suffered a great loss when Pertev Pasha, pressed by Don Juan de Cordova, fell into the sea, and his galley was boarded by Paulo Jordan Urbino, the seraskier being forced to swim to a small boat in which to escape. But the Christians did not set up the cry of victory until they saw Ali Pasha, after the vigorous and stubborn efforts of himself and the three hundred janissaries of his flag-ship, fall on the gangway wounded in the forehead by a ball from one of Don John’s arquebusiers.

Another cut off his head and presented it to the Christian generalissimo, who with noble generosity censured the action with horror, and ordered such trophies to be thrown into the sea; nevertheless he could not prevent the head of the Turkish admiral from being raised and exhibited on the point of a spear. The Christian’s cry of victory resounded through the air, and was carried by the winds to the shore.

The last engagement was between the galleys of Ali Uluch and Giovanni Andrea Doria, but on the approach of Don John, the viceroy of Algiers hastened to effect his escape, with forty vessels saved from the general destruction; and so great was his haste that neither Giovanni Andrea nor Alvaro de Bazan could give chase. Nevertheless well-nigh all his men perished, either drowned in the waves, when jumping in terror to the shore, or killed among the rocks by the Venetians.

In this memorable battle the Turks lost 220 ships; of this number 130 fell into the hands of the Christians, more than 90 were engulfed in the sea, or reduced to ruins by fire, 40 alone escaped; 25,000 Turks fell in battle, 50,000 were taken prisoners; the allies took from them 17 heavy cannon, and 250 of smaller calibre, more than 12,000 Christians, captives of the Mussulmans, employed as rowers, saw their chains broken and precious liberty recovered. The Christian losses were also great, about 8,000 valiant soldiers and sailors were killed, 2,000 of these were Spaniards, 800 of the papal army, and the rest Venetians. Only 15 ships were lost. On the other hand the gilded poop lanterns, the purple banners embroidered in gold and silver, the stars and moon, the pasha’s pennons, were precious trophies which the allies won in the battle.

Such in brief, concludes Lafuente, was the famous naval battle of Lepanto, the most famous ever recorded in the annals of nations, for the number of ships, the exertions and valour of the combatants, for the complete destruction of a fleet as formidable as was the Ottoman fleet. The janissaries were no longer invincible; the Sublime Porte was to lose its supremacy in the Mediterranean.[j]

THE GENERAL CONDITION OF ITALY

[Sidenote: [1569-1585 A.D.]]

“There was a man sent from God, whose name was John,” Pius V could cry in his enthusiasm over the victory of Lepanto. But besides this victory there was little to arouse enthusiasm in Italy; scandals and baseness prevailed everywhere. The Medici offered the worst examples of this. Dreadful rumours circulated on the sudden and close deaths of Cosmo’s two sons. It was confidently said that one, Giovanni, had in a fit of jealousy during a hunting party assassinated his brother Garcias, and that Cosmo had slain the fratricide some days later in the arms of his mother. The third, Francesco, although married to the archduchess Johanna, publicly contracted a liaison which seemed to give rise every day to fresh scandals, and Cosmo in the recesses of his palace indulged in stormy passions made worse by a sombre melancholy. All this did not hinder Pope Pius V, in 1569, from conferring on Cosmo, by what right is not known, the title of grand duke. This act showed to what depths the Italian princes had sunk. The other small sovereigns, whose lives were also not the most exemplary, showed themselves very jealous. The dukes of Ferrara and Savoy protested at the courts of Madrid and Vienna, and aspired to guard the right of precedence, which the pope had also just changed. At least they would be of the first rank among slaves. The right of precedence, such as it was in the general servitude, remained the object of the princes’ feverish rivalry. To maintain this their wise men used a good deal of heraldic and feudal science. Their ambassadors fought at the courts of Madrid and Vienna.

Loss of liberty was not compensated for by material prosperity. This was clearly shown during the reigns of Gregory XIII at Rome and Francesco I at Florence.

Gregory XIII, although of less deep piety than his predecessor, was carried along in his spiritual government by the vigorous impulse given by Pius V. He founded an international college at Rome, and accomplished a work truly European by the reform of the calendar in 1582. His attempts to regulate economic conditions were not so successful. Francesco de’ Medici, more docile still than his father to the Spanish yoke, obtained by concessions in 1576, from the emperor and the Spanish king, that recognition of his grand-ducal title which Cosmo had refused, with the right of precedence over the other dukes. With less reverence than ever he established Bianca Capello in his palace, she losing nothing of his affection for having given him a child by another father; she even became his wife after the death of the archduchess. Quite a Spanish prince, he separated himself entirely from the people. After the fashion of Philip II he only lived in the midst of courtesans and favourites, who began to form a nobility in a state which was formerly largely democratic. But through his negligence all the elements of order and prosperity in Tuscany were lost. The city of Leghorn alone slightly developed, thanks to the commercial privileges he granted her, but the rest of the country became deserted compared to what it had been under Cosmo I. Pisa, from twenty-two thousand inhabitants, fell to eight thousand; and in 1575 a conspiracy was necessary to overthrow that voluptuous tyrant who had no thought for the morrow.

In the Milanese, where the governors respected the débris of ancient liberties, there was still some activity. Milanese arms and embroideries were sought after, woollen-weavers were very busy in Como and the capital. The work of canalisation went on. Milan passed as Italy’s most populous city and had 150,000 inhabitants. But at Naples the exigencies and venality of the administration exhausted all sources of prosperity. Whilst rich families in Lombardy, the Marignani, the Sforza, the Serboni, the Borromei, and the Trivulzi, displayed a princely luxuriousness, the Neapolitan nobility, quickly ruined by court life, retired to their châteaux and lived by oppressing the peasants. Even the townsfolk, crushed by taxation, and above all by the caprice of viceroys, were ruined. The miserable tax-payers, after all their furniture had been sold, were even driven to strip off their roofs and sell the material. Towns fell into decay. Localities formerly very flourishing, like Giovinazzo in Apulia, completely disappeared. A whole province was desolated; Calabria was now only crossed by caravans.