Part 45
Mary of Burgundy, daughter and heiress of that fiery Duke who fell fighting against the Swiss, became wife of Maximilian, afterward Emperor of Germany. In the month of February, 1482, that noble lady was holding her court in the city of Bruges, in Flanders, then a great commercial emporium of Europe; and, mounting her palfrey one day, she rode forth, with a small retinue, to fly her hawks at the herons, which abounded in the vicinity. While pursuing the sport and leaping a fence, the girths of her saddle burst, and she was thrown violently against a tree. Dying from the effects of the accident, Mary left a son, named Philip, who espoused Ferdinand’s daughter, Jane the Foolish, and had a son Charles, born at Ghent in 1500. On the demise of Isabella, Jane, as her daughter, became Queen of Castile; but immediately after, the sudden death of Philip bereft his young widow of her reason. Her case was hopeless; and on Ferdinand’s death, young Charles of Austria was associated with his insane mother on the Spanish throne, while the aged Cardinal Ximenes, a consummate statesman, grasped the reins of government with vigor and dexterity. Three years later, on the death of his grandfather Maximilian, the ambitious King of Spain was elected Emperor of Germany; and thus becoming the most powerful monarch in Europe, he commenced that long and arduous struggle with Francis I of France, which has been previously sketched.
At the time when Charles received the imperial crown there was residing on the island of Cuba a Spaniard, named Hernando Cortez, the scion of an ancient and honorable family. He had left the mother country at nineteen, became proprietor of a flourishing plantation, married a young woman of beauty and excellence, and acquired high favor with Velasquez, governor of the colony. Yet, though apparently destined to a prosperous and peaceful career, so adventurous was the spirit of Cortez, that he sought and obtained the command of a squadron which the governor was fitting out for a voyage of discovery to the American continent. Dreading the bold and ambitious nature of Cortez, the governor recalled this promise, and appointed another as captain; but Cortez got under way in the night, with the ships half-stored and equipped, and sailed from Cuba, never more to return. Arriving in the river Tabasco, he landed in spite of a desperate resistance, made the natives swear allegiance to the King of Spain, caused mass to be celebrated in the principal temples, formed an alliance with the Tlascalans, a warlike Indian tribe, and rolled the tide of conquest toward the capital of Mexico.
Montezuma, the Mexican Emperor, received the strangers with veneration, swore fealty to Spain, placed himself in the custody of Cortez, and assigned a temple as a Christian place of worship. This last concession was too much for his heathen subjects, who, instigated by their priests, declared that the Spaniards must perish on the altars they had violated. Cortez was preparing for a fierce struggle, when informed that a fleet had anchored off the coast, commanded by Narvaez, commissioned by the Governor of Cuba to supersede him. Aware that his only chance lay in a sudden stroke, Cortez, with seventy picked men, set out for the camp of Narvaez, and after arresting his rival in a dark night, allured the soldiers to his standard, and returned to the capital. There the fury of the Mexicans had become so great, that Montezuma in vain attempted to allay the storm; and mortified at his loss of authority, the Emperor expired, while the streets were thronged with countless multitudes, who for successive days besieged the palace where the Spaniards were lodged.
In this terrible situation, Cortez resolved to cut his way to the territory of his Tlascalan allies; and on a July night, after hearing mass, he led his followers from their quarters in the centre of the city. After a bloody fight on the causeway he effected an escape, and reached the open country; but there his little army was suddenly attacked by an overwhelming force. The position of the Spaniards seemed desperate, when Cortez, ever cool and courageous, suddenly penetrated to where the enemy’s banner was displayed, killed with his own hand the Mexican general, and instantly changed the fortune of the day. Resting from his fatigues till the autumn, he returned to the capital, where Gautemozin now reigned as Emperor, and commenced warlike operations. But in May, 1521, Cortez, hopeless of otherwise accomplishing his object, took the terrible resolution of destroying every house as he advanced. Burning palaces and temples, he gradually made his way into the market-place, and then reluctantly gave orders for a general assault. The battle, which lasted for two days, was decisive: the youthful Emperor, being taken in a canoe, was executed: and the independence of Mexico was extinguished.
Soon after the conquest of Mexico, Francis Pizarro, landing in Peru with a formidable force, subdued that large, powerful, and flourishing empire, compelled the Peruvians to work the mines for their advantage, and added the conquered territory to the possessions of the Spanish crown.
While his gallant subjects, stimulated by the desire of wealth, were winning for Charles an empire on which the sun never set, war was carried on in Europe; and his great rival, Francis, taken at Pavia, was lying at his mercy in Madrid. But though the might of the Emperor overshadowed the princes of Europe, the Spaniards, regarding him as a stranger and foreigner, revolted in defense of their political rights; the civil wars of the _Communeros_ were the consequence; and Charles, having excluded the grandees from the representation, succeeded in withering by his despotism the free spirit that had long animated the ancient institutions of Castile and Arragon.
While the religious reformation was agitating the other states of Europe, the Spanish nation remained unmoved by the shock, and out of it came Ignatius Loyola, destined not only to rescue the imperiled Papacy, but to breathe new life into the expiring system by which Rome had for centuries held the human intellect in sacerdotal bondage.
Eight years after his rival Francis had gone to the grave, Charles, in 1556, abdicated the Spanish throne in favor of his son Philip, and a few months later, weary of war and disgusted with grandeur, he resigned the imperial crown to his brother Ferdinand, and retired to indulge his melancholy mood in the monastery of St. Just, on the frontiers of Castile. While there he is reported to have enacted no less extraordinary a scene than the celebration of his own funeral obsequies. After causing a tomb to be erected in the chapel, and making his attendants walk thither in procession, the ex-Emperor followed in his shroud, and was laid in his coffin. The monks then chanted the service for the dead, prayed for the repose of his soul, and shed tears for his departure. This singular ceremony is said to have thrown Charles into a fever, of which he expired in his fifty-ninth year.
Philip II, inherited one of the wealthiest and most magnificent empires on which the sun ever shone, and he sought to increase his hereditary influence by espousing Mary, queen of England, who loved him with the utmost tenderness. But, notwithstanding her displays of affection, Philip, tiring of the society of a spouse so destitute of attractions, and indignant that her subjects would not allow England to be made a fief of Spain, escaped to his Continental dominions. However, when the Pope, jealous of the King’s enormous power, formed an alliance with Henry II of France, to detach Milan and the Sicilies from the crown of Spain, Philip considered it expedient to feign some esteem for his Queen, and paying her a visit at Greenwich, obtained the aid of England in his struggle. His army was victorious over the French, led by the Constable Montmorency, at St Quentin; and at Gravelines the Count Egmont vanquished the old Marshal Thermes; after which the King of France, by the Treaty of Cambresis, surrendered to Spain eighty-nine fortified towns in Italy and the Low Countries.
Philip was destined to deal with a sovereign infinitely less accommodating: for, ere the treaty of peace was signed, Queen Mary had breathed her last, and been succeeded on the English throne by a princess whose policy baffled his schemes, and whose courage defied his vengeance. After in vain soliciting the coveted hand of Elizabeth, Philip wedded a daughter of Catherine de Medici; and becoming disquieted on the score of religion, he resolved to gratify his natural bigotry by extirpating from his dominions every species of heresy. He began with the Netherlands, where the Reformed doctrines had made considerable progress, and established the Inquisition with plenary power; but this alienated the hearts of the inhabitants, who, choosing as their leader William of Orange, a Count of the Empire, bravely resisted the power of Spain. Philip proscribed, and set a price on the head of, the Prince of Orange, who was soon assassinated; but his son, Maurice, appeared as his successor, and, with the aid of Queen Elizabeth, ere long secured the independence of the United Provinces.
Philip, exasperated by the assistance which the English Queen had afforded to the revolted Netherlands, having meantime seized on Portugal, commenced fitting out the Invincible Armada for the invasion of England; and preparations were in full progress when suddenly Sir Francis Drake made a dash at Cadiz, and after destroying thirty vessels, scoured the Spanish coast, burning and shattering many castles and ships. The King’s naval operations were thus delayed till May, 1588, when the Armada, consisting of a hundred and thirty sail, left the Tagus under the command of the Duke of Medina, who hoped to steer through the Channel to Flanders, and form a junction with the Duke of Parma. But being attacked by the English Admiral, and after several engagements driven toward Orkney, the fleet was so effectually scattered by a tempest, that the Duke returned to Spain with not more than sixty shattered vessels.
In 1596, war being formally declared, the Spaniards seized Calais, with other walled towns; and in alarm Queen Elizabeth dispatched a fleet to Cadiz, under the young and accomplished Earl of Essex. Landing in spite of the fire from the forts and battlements, the English forced the town to capitulate, made the inhabitants pay for their lives, razed the fortifications, and burned the houses. In revenge, Philip sent ships to threaten the English coast, though without any success; and at length, satiated with the blood which had been shed in promotion of his various ambitious designs, he signed the Peace of Vervins. On the eve of the battle of St. Quentin, Philip vowed, in the event of victory, to build, in honor of St. Lawrence, a church, a monastery and a palace, and in fulfillment of this vow, he erected near Madrid the magnificent palace of the Escurial, which contained the residence and mausoleum of the sovereigns of Spain. Expiring in 1598, he was laid in the cemetry which he had formed beneath the pavement of the church; and his son, Philip III, ascended the throne.
From that period Spain declined in power and importance, though her empire was long, to outward appearance, great and magnificent. The new king, who was not less bigoted than his gloomy sire, prosecuted the war against the United Provinces, but, in 1609, was forced to conclude a treaty at the Hague, which secured civil and religious freedom to the new republic, and restored the confiscated estates of the house of Orange. Yet, untaught by experience, and under the inspiration of his minister, the Duke of Lerma, he issued an edict, ordering the Morescoes, or descendants of the Moors, to leave the kingdom within thirty days, and thus farther enfeebled a state which war and emigration had previously deprived of so many energetic and industrious inhabitants. The Morescoes had been conspicuous for their skill and ingenuity in arts and manufactures, and this depopulation produced a most baneful effect.
Philip IV succeeded, on his father’s decease, to an empire more extensive indeed than the realms of the Grand Monarch, but corrupt in all its parts, and in a state of hopeless prostration. The result soon appeared. Brazil was taken by the Dutch; Catalonia revolted to France; and to suppress the rebellion, the Portuguese were intrusted with arms. The latter turning against their oppressive governors, placed the Duke of Braganza on the throne; and Philip was one of the last personages in Europe who heard of the important event. Shut up in the recesses of the Escurial, he was indulging in licentious dissipation, when one day his able and artful minister, Olivarez, craved an audience. ‘I bring,’ said he, ‘good news to your majesty. The Duke of Braganza’s whole fortune is yours. He has presumptuously got himself declared King of Portugal, and, consequently, you are entitled to the forfeiture of all his estates.’ Philip, lost in luxurious enjoyment, only replied, ‘Let the sequestration be ordered.’ And Portugal was lost to him beyond the hope of recovery.
A war which broke out with France was terminated, in 1659, by the Peace of the Pyrenees, which was negotiated by the crafty Mazarin; and by this treaty it was stipulated that Louis XIV should espouse the King’s eldest daughter, she renouncing all claim to the succession.
In 1665, Philip expired, and his son Charles succeeded. The kingdom was in a deplorable state, and its ruler a prey to listless melancholy and extravagant superstitions; so the Kings of France and England, seeing that Charles had no heirs, and that his days were numbered, agreed to a treaty of partition. This roused the languishing monarch into temporary indignation, which Louis, though the chief offender, succeeded in turning entirely against the other powers. Thus it happened, that while the Spanish ambassador was so insolent in his remonstrances at the court of St. James, that William commanded him to leave England, Charles, in making a destination of his territories by will, after numerous consultations with the Pope, the Spanish Universities, and his own Council, nominated as his heir Philip, duke of Anjou, second son of the Dauphin of France, and grandson of Louis. Having thus laid the foundation of a memorable war, Charles died on the 3d of November, 1700.
When it was publicly announced that the kingdom of Spain had been bequeathed to the Duke of Anjou, Louis, with an unscrupulous disregard of the obligations he had incurred by treaties, acknowledged his grandson as Philip V, and rejoiced in the thought of all the rich possessions of the crown of Spain being transferred to the house of Bourbon. Philip hastened to take possession of the magnificent legacy; his brothers accompanied him to the frontier; and Louis made use of the vain, but significant words――‘The Pyrenees exist no longer.’
Ferdinand V, a prince of a mild and pacific disposition, succeeded his father in 1746, and gave much encouragement to arts, commerce and manufactures; but the death of his Queen overwhelmed him in such grief that he died in 1759. His brother Don Carlos, ascending the throne with the title of Charles III, was induced to sign, with France, that family compact which stipulated for reciprocal aid between the different branches of the Bourbons, and denounced as the enemy of all, any power that might hereafter be at war with one.
Ferdinand and his subjects had soon cause to repent of this temerity; for the Seven Years’ War began, and the arms of England were signally triumphant. Havana was taken by the English in 1762, and Spain suffered enormous losses, till the Treaty of Fontainebleau put an end to the war, and restored her possessions.
Charles was once more drawn into war with England; and in 1779 commenced that siege of Gibraltar, which for two years was persisted in without effect. At length, in 1782, when the defense had been intrusted to General Elliot, a grand attack was resolved upon, and King Charles inquired every morning on waking, ‘Is it taken?’ On the 13th of September a mighty effort was made; a French engineer had constructed floating batteries which he said could neither be sunk nor set on fire; and four hundred pieces of the heaviest artillery were brought to bear on the fortress. But the red-hot balls fired by the garrison were irresistible in their effect; the hostile batteries were destroyed, the ships sunk, and most of the besiegers with them. Elliot, for his gallant and memorable defense, was ennobled, with the title of Lord Heathfield, and peace was concluded next year.
Soon after this failure, King Charles made an attempt to reform the dress and manners of his subjects, and carried his measures to so imprudent a length, that an insurrection occurred at Madrid, and he was under the necessity of dismissing his favorite minister, Squillace. The earthly career of Charles closed in 1788, and he was succeeded by his son, Charles IV.
When, in 1793, a confederacy was formed against the French Republic, Charles joined in the league; but a French army being sent into Spain, he changed sides, and was soon inspired with a high admiration of the Emperor Napoleon. His subjects being still animated by their ancient hatred toward England, Charles was not averse to minister to Napoleon’s ambition, and in 1805 they declared war in concert; but their united fleets were destroyed in the great battle of Trafalgar.
Still it was in Bonaparte’s power to exercise a sovereign influence over Spain, without infringing on that national spirit which, a century earlier, had resisted the allies of the House of Austria; till the dissensions in the royal family stimulated his ambition. Charles, a feeble prince, entirely under the influence of Godoy, the Queen’s favorite, had fallen into contempt. His son, Ferdinand, was the idol of the nation; and Napoleon was entreated to arbitrate in regard to their differences. He seized the occasion to send an army across the Pyrenees under Murat, who suddenly took possession of Barcelona and several strongholds. Soon after, Napoleon demanded a surrender of the provinces on the left bank of the Ebro. Charles and his spouse were dumb with surprise; Godoy advised the King and Queen to embark for their American dominions; and preparations were made with that view. But their son, Ferdinand, opposing the step, summoned the populace, raised an insurrection, in which the royal troops took part, caused Godoy to be arrested, kept the King prisoner, and after procuring an abdication in his own favor, entered Madrid in haughty triumph as Sovereign of Spain.
Brief was his ovation; for on the following day Murat marched his army into the capital, and Charles protested against his compulsory abdication; but though Murat refused to acknowledge the royalty of Ferdinand, he administered no comfort to Charles――‘Napoleon alone,’ he said ‘can decide between the father and the son.’
What that meant was ere long beyond all doubt; for the Emperor going to Bayonne, summoned thither the King as well as his undutiful heir. He then decided the matter by making Charles abdicate in his own favor, by imprisoning Ferdinand in the Château of Valencay, and by assigning that of Compiègne as a residence for the deposed monarch.
Murat, meanwhile, retained possession of Madrid; and, under French influence, the Council of Castile demanded as King the Emperor’s eldest brother, Joseph. The latter, resigning the crown of Naples to Murat, hastened to Bayonne, where he was acknowledged as sovereign of Spain by various deputations. But, ere his entry into Madrid, the Spanish peasantry had indignantly taken up arms; the clergy had inflamed their enthusiasm by representing Napoleon as Antichrist; the royal troops joined the insurgents; a cry of vengeance arose throughout the land; and at Cadiz the French fleet was seized and the crew slaughtered. The victory of Bessières opened the gates of Madrid to King Joseph; who, however, was fain, when Dupont capitulated at Bayleu, to leave the city within a week of his triumphant entry; and he soon possessed in all Spain no more than Navarre, Biscay, and Barcelona.
Ambitious of subjugating Spain, the Emperor summoned thither his still unconquered legions, and placing himself at their head, was victorious in three engagements. Entering Madrid, he tempted the inhabitants with promises of franchises and the abolition of feudalism; but their ears were closed against all offers.
The Spaniards were resolutely rising in organized bands, and the English army was approaching, when the news arrived that Austria had formed a new coalition with England. Bonaparte withdrew to the Rhine, while the Spaniards hailed their ancient enemies as deliverers, and the English defeated King Joseph in the battle of Talavera. The victory of Wellington over Marmont at Salamanca, in 1812, and that over King Joseph at Vittoria, in 1813, brought the English to the Pyrenees; and Spain was irreclaimably lost to the Empire of the French.
Emerging from his prison at Valencay, Ferdinand VII returned to take possession of his ancestral throne; but the princes of restored dynasties are the most infatuated of beings, and the new King of Spain did not escape the general doom. Instead of granting liberal institutions, he, at the instigation of the priests, reëstablished the hateful Inquisition, and practiced his tyrannies so ruthlessly, that, in 1820, the endurance of his subjects was at an end. Riego, rising in arms, proclaimed the Constitution which the Cortes had adopted in 1812; and, though he was unsuccessful, the greater part of the nation rose. The army joined the insurgents, and, though Ferdinand announced his intention of convening the Cortes and granting reforms, his offers were despised. The populace thronged and clamored around his palace; and the wretched King was fain to proclaim the Constitution.
At that time, the Congress of Verona convoked to consider the affairs of Greece, found the Spanish revolution a much more exciting topic; a French army on the frontier was ready to aid Ferdinand, but the Duke of Wellington, as representative of England, objected to intervention. Nevertheless, in 1823, the troops, under the Duke of Angoulême, crossed the Pyrenees, and entered Madrid. Ferdinand, who had previously been deposed by the Cortes, on being restored by French arms annulled every act of the Constitutional Government, and Riego was hanged on a very high gibbet, without being permitted to address the people.
In 1833, Ferdinand, from indulging to excess in eating, died of apoplexy, having previously nominated his Queen as Regent during the minority of her daughter, Isabella II, then three years of age. The new reign began with civil strife, for Don Carlos, uncle of the youthful sovereign, aspired to the crown, and on his return from exile the Carlist war for years desolated the unfortunate country.
HISTORY OF GERMANY AND AUSTRIA.
The Empire of the West, which Charlemagne had constructed at so much cost of blood and treasure, fell to pieces after he had gone to the grave; and the crown of Germany, being separated from that of the Frankish monarchy, was worn by one branch of the Carlovingian race, while the members of another were enacting the part, without exercising the authority, of kings on the banks of the Seine. But in 911, the various princes of Germany, assuming an attitude of independence, elected Conrad of Franconia to the Imperial throne; and he, after a reign rendered troublous by the inroads of the Hungarians, was succeeded by Henry of Saxony, surnamed the Fowler.