“I have deemed it my duty to point out to his majesty the construction that will be put upon his visit,” rejoined Gattinara, gravely.
“The solid advantages of the victory are not to be sacrificed to an over-strained sense of honour,” remarked Lannoy. “If the king dies, all will be lost.”
“Humanity dictates the course to be pursued,” said Bourbon. “To refuse to see the king would be to condemn him to death.”
“By Santiago! I will see him,” said the Emperor; “and, what is more, I will conclude the treaty with him. Bring it with you, Gattinara. Now to the prison.”
II. HOW THE TREATY OF MADRID WAS SIGNED
When Marguerite was admitted by the guard into the chamber in which her royal brother was confined, he was alone, and stretched upon a couch.
“I have good tidings for your majesty,” she cried, flying towards him, and taking his hand. “The Emperor is coming to see you.”
“It is too late,” said François. “He can do me no good now. I have lost all hope. Look here,” he added, taking a paper from beneath the cushion on which he was reclining, “this is an act by which I renounce the crown of France, and place it in the hands of the Dauphin, exhorting my family and my people to regard me as dead – and most likely I shall be dead ere this act can be delivered to my son.”
“I shall not need to take it,” she rejoined. “I am persuaded you will now be able to make terms with the Emperor.”
“I will rather die than submit to his conditions,” rejoined the king.
“Hear me, François,” she said, “and do not think the course I am about to suggest unworthy of you. You must be delivered from this prison at any price.”
“Not at the price of my honour, Marguerite,” he cried. “You cannot counsel that?”
“You must dissemble with the tyrant, brother,” she rejoined. “You must beat him with his own weapons. A treaty signed in prison cannot be binding on you. The circumstances render it invalid. Promise all the Emperor asks – but perform only what is reasonable and just.
“I must perform all I promise,” said François,
“No,” she rejoined. “You are justified in deceiving a pitiless conqueror who abuses his position. France will absolve you.”
At this moment, the door was thrown open and gave admittance to the Emperor, who was attended by Bourbon, Lannoy, and Gattinara.
Charles V. paused near the door to look at his prisoner, and was sensibly touched by his altered appearance.
“Can this be the magnificent François de Valois?” he muttered to Bourbon. “Mother of Heaven! how he is changed!”
“Sadly changed, indeed, sire,” rejoined Bourbon. “Even I can pity him.”
On beholding the Emperor, François raised himself with his sister’s support, and said, in accents of mingled bitterness and reproach, “Your majesty has come to see your prisoner die.”
“No, I have come to bid you live,” rejoined Charles V., hastening towards him, “You are no longer my prisoner, but my friend and brother. From this moment you are free.”
As these gracious words were uttered, François withdrew from his sister, and flung his arms round the Emperor’s neck. On recovering from his emotion, he said, “I thank your majesty from the bottom of my heart for your goodness towards me. You have performed a magical cure. In giving me freedom you have instantly restored me to health and strength.”
“I am rejoiced to hear it, my good brother,” rejoined Charles Y. “I should never have forgiven myself if aught had befallen you, You shall be liberated this very day – that is, as soon as we have arranged the terms of the treaty,” he hastened to add, “That is a necessary preliminary step, as you know.”
“Of course, sire,” rejoined the king. “We can settle the treaty now. I am well enough to attend to it.”
And, assisted by the Emperor and Marguerite, he rose from the couch, and seated himself near the table, on which writing materials were placed.
“You have indeed recovered in a marvellous manner, my good brother,” remarked Charles V., smiling.
“It is all your doing, sire,” rejoined François. “But let us proceed to business. I repeat, I am quite equal to it.”
“‘Twill be best that the matter should be concluded at once, brother,” said Charles V., seating himself opposite the king. “The treaty has already been drawn out by the grand-chancellor, and shall be read to you.”
“The treaty drawn out!” exclaimed François, frowning. “Then we cannot discuss the terms.”
“If we discuss the terms it may prolong your captivity, brother,” rejoined Charles Y.
“Agree,” whispered Marguerite, who was standing near the king.
“Well, let me hear the conditions,” said François to Gattinara, who had unfolded a large parchment, and was preparing to-read it. “Give the substance of the treaty, my lord. I care not for the formalities.”
“By this treaty, sire,” said Gattinara, “you will cede to his Imperial Majesty all your pretensions to the kingdom of Naples, the duchy of Milan, Genoa, and Asti – in a word, all your rights in Italy.”
He then paused for a moment, but as François made no observation, he went on:
“You will also cede the duchy of Burgundy to his Imperial Majesty – ”
“It should be ‘restore,’ rather than ‘cede,’” interrupted Charles V., “since the duchy was the patrimony of my ancestress, Mary of Burgundy. But proceed.”
“Your majesty will cede the duchy of Burgundy,” continued the chancellor, “the countship of Charolois, the signories of Noyers and of Château-Chinon, the viscounty of Auxonne, and the jurisdiction of Saint-Laurent.”
François uttered an exclamation of impatience, but was restrained by his sister, who grasped his hand.
“A moment’s patience, brother,” remarked Charles V, “We will speak of Burgundy anon.”
“Your majesty shall remove your protection from Henri d’Albret, who was taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia, but who has since escaped, and prevail upon him to renounce the title of King of Navarre.”
“Pâques Dieu! I cannot do this,” cried François.
“Let the chancellor go on, brother,” said the Emperor.
“Your majesty shall likewise remove your protection from the Duke of Gueldres,” pursued Gattinara, “the Duke of Wurtemberg, and Robert de la Marck.”
“By Saint Louis! I will not thus sacrifice my friends and allies!” cried François.
“Hear him out, brother! – hear him out!” said the Emperor.
Gattinara paused for a moment, and then resumed. Aware of what was coming, Bourbon watched the king narrowly.
“Your majesty shall restore to the Duke de Bourbon all the lands, fiefs, and signories of which he has been deprived, and shall add to them Provence and Dauphiné. These states shall be erected into a kingdom to be possessed by the Duke de Bourbon, without tenure from the crown of France.”
“Never!” exclaimed François, rising. “I will remain in thraldom all my days rather than consent to this indignity. I agree to restore Bourbon’s possessions, and will indemnify him for all his losses, but I will not dismember France in order to create a kingdom for him. Even if I were disposed to yield, the laws of the State are opposed to any such alienation, and would prevent it.”
“I will take my chance of that,” remarked Bourbon, sternly. “What has been gained by the sword can be maintained by the sword. The condition must be subscribed.”
“The king agrees,” said Marguerite, as François, by her persuasion, sat down again.
At a sign front the Emperor, Gattinara went on.
“Your majesty shall re-establish the Seigneur de Pomperant, and all the other partisans of the Duke de Bourbon, in their possessions. And you shall release the Prince of Orange, who has been confined in the castle of Lusignan, and deprived of his possessions for his zeal towards the Emperor.”
“To the latter condition I unhesitatingly agree,” said François.
“Lastly,” said Gattinara, “your majesty shall pay to the King of England five hundred thousand crowns, and to his Imperial Majesty as a ransom two millions.”
“These are onerous conditions, sire,” said François, as the chancellor concluded.
“They appear hard now, but you will not think them so when you are at liberty, brother,” said the Emperor.
“Neither will you be bound by them,” whispered Marguerite. “The violence offered releases you from all engagements.”
“His majesty must pledge his royal word to return to prison, if all the conditions of the treaty be not fulfilled within three months,” said Lannoy.
“How say you, brother? Will you give that pledge?” demanded Charles V.
“He will – he does!” interposed Marguerite.
“Nay, madame, let the king speak for himself,” said the Emperor.
“I give the required pledge,” said François, with evident reluctance.
“But your majesty must also give hostages for your good faith,” remarked Bourbon.
“Hostages!” exclaimed François.
“Yes, sire, hostages – hostages the most precious to yourself and to your people – your two elder sons. They must take your place, and remain in captivity till all be fulfilled.”
“Sire, you do not require this?” cried François.
“If you mean fairly, brother – as I feel sure you do – where is the hardship?” rejoined Charles V., “I must have an exchange of prisoners.”
“Assent,” whispered Marguerite. “We will soon find means to liberate the princes.”
“Well, sire, I must perforce agree,” said François.
“One point only remains,” said the Emperor. “I would willingly have kept it separate, but circumstances require that it should form part of the treaty. It relates to my sister Leanor, the widowed queen of Portugal.”
“Yes, sire, and I now renew the proposal I have made to you respecting the queen,” said François. “Do you agree to give me her hand?”
“Sire,” interposed Bourbon, haughtily, “you have already promised your sister to me.”
“Before giving that promise I ought to have consulted her,” said Charles.
“You would have me to understand that she declines the alliance,” said Bourbon.
“The queen could scarce hesitate between a proscribed prince and a powerful monarch,” said Marguerite, in a tone that stung Bourbon to the quick.
“You mistake, madame,” he cried, sharply. “‘Tis the prince who is powerful, and the king a prisoner. However, I relinquish my claim. Your Imperial Majesty is free to bestow the queen your sister on whomsoever you list.”
“Then, brother, she is yours,” said the Emperor to François; “and I may now tell you frankly that your chivalrous qualities have won her admiration, and that she can give you her heart as well as her hand. The alliance, I trust, will form a lasting bond of amity between us. By the terms of the treaty you are bound to cede Burgundy to me. I am willing that you should settle the duchy upon my sister, to revert to me in default of issue by the marriage.”
“Sire, I am content,” said François.
“Since we are fully agreed, let the treaty be signed,” said Charles V
The document was then laid on the table, and being duly signed and sealed by the two monarchs, was delivered to the custody of the grand-chancellor.
The Emperor then signified his desire to be left alone with the King of France, and the others withdrew.
“I have a few words to say to you, brother,” said Charles V., drawing near the king. “You are now free – perfectly free. Up to this moment we have treated together as princes, let us now deal as loyal gentlemen. You are esteemed, and with reason, the model of chivalry. Tell me, with the frankness of a preux chevalier, who has never broken his word that you mean to perform the compact you have made with me.”
And he fixed a searching look upon the king as he spoke.
“Sire,” replied François, pointing to a crucifix fixed against the wall beside them, “I swear on that cross to deal loyally with you.”
“Then if you fail, I may say you have forfeited your word?” said the Emperor, still fastening his keen grey eyes upon him.
“You may, sire. But rest easy. Foi de gentilhomme! I shall not fail.”
Perfectly satisfied by these assurances, Charles V. caused the doors of the castle to be thrown open, and conducted his somewhile prisoner to the royal palace, where apartments suitable to his rank were assigned him.
A few days afterwards, François was affianced to Leanor of Portugal, and as soon as he was able to travel, he proceeded with a strong guard, under the charge of Lannoy and Alarcon, towards Fontarabia.
In the centre of the river Bidassoa, which divides France and Spain, a bark was moored, and in this little vessel the exchange between the king and his two sons took place.
François tenderly embraced his sons, and, bidding them farewell, caused himself to be rowed to the opposite bank, exclaiming joyfully, as he leaped ashore, “Once more, I am king.”
Mounting a swift charger, he speeded towards Bayonne, where he found the Duchess d’Angoulême and the court awaiting him.
How he violated the conditions of the treaty of Madrid, and how he broke his plighted faith with the Emperor, it is not the purpose of this history to relate.
END OF THE SIXTH BOOK
BOOK VII. – THE SACK OF ROME
I. HOW VON FRUNDSBERG ONCE MORE ENTERED ITALY WITH HIS LANZ-KNECHTS
Deeply mortified, Bourbon quitted Madrid immediately after the liberation of François I., and returned to Lombardy.
In order to conciliate him, Charles V. had appointed him to the supreme command of the army of Italy, and he had now no rival to thwart him, Pescara having died during his absence.
Francesco Sforza having joined the Italian league, as previously stated, and openly declared against the Emperor, had shut himself up in the citadel of Milan, where he was besieged by the Imperial generals. Their forces were quartered in the city, and the miserable inhabitants, having been disarmed, were completely at the mercy of the rapacious soldiers, who took what they pleased, forcing their victims by torments to give their property. The shops and magazines were gutted of their stores, and the owners not merely robbed, but ill treated.
To prevent egress from the city, the gates were strictly guarded, and many persons committed suicide by hurling themselves from the walls, in order to escape from the horrible tyranny to which they were subjected. It was while the inhabitants were in this miserable condition that Bourbon arrived at Milan to assume the command of the Imperial army.
As soon as he had taken up his quarters in the ducal palace, he was waited upon by the podesta and the magistrates, who represented to him in the most moving terms the lamentable state of the city, and implored him to encamp the army without the walls. Bourbon appeared touched by what he heard, but he professed his inability to relieve the city from oppression, unless the means of doing so were afforded him.
“I feel your distress, and the distress of your fellow-citizens, most acutely,” he said. “But I can only see one remedy for it. All the disorders on the part of the soldiery of which you complain, and which I deeply deplore, are caused by want of pay. The generals have had no money to give them, and have therefore been compelled to tolerate this dreadful licence. I am in the same predicament. Furnish me with thirty thousand ducats, so that I can offer these refractory troops a month’s pay, and I will compel them to encamp without the walls of the city, and so liberate you from further persecution.”
“Alas! my lord, we are in such a strait that we cannot comply with your suggestion,” said the podesta. “We have been plundered of our all.”
“Make a final effort, my good friends,” said Bourbon. “You must have some secret hoards kept for an extremity like the present. Do not hesitate. Without money I cannot help you.”
“We despair of raising the large sum named by your highness,” rejoined the podesta, dolefully. “But should we succeed, may we rely upon your promise? Pardon the doubt. We have been so often deceived.”
“I, too, have been deluded by false promises, and by a monarch whose word should be sacred,” rejoined Bourbon. “Bring the money without fear. If I deceive you, may I perish by the first shot fired by the enemy at the first battle in which I shall be engaged.”.
“Your oath is recorded in heaven, my lord!” said the podesta, solemnly. And he quitted the palace with his brother magistrates.
Two days afterwards, the money was brought and distributed by Bourbon among the soldiery, but he was unable to make good his word. The insatiable Spaniards refused to quit their quarters, and the wretched citizens, betrayed in their last hope, had no other refuge but death.
After holding out for a few weeks, at the end of which time the garrison was reduced to the last extremities, Sforza capitulated, and was allowed to retire to Como, from which city he subsequently fled to join the army of the Italian League.
Had the Emperor possessed the sinews of war, he might easily have subjugated the whole of Italy at this juncture; but as he was unable to pay his army, and allowed it to subsist by plundering the country, he could neither extend his conquests nor retain what he had won. All the cities of Lombardy were ready to throw off the yoke imposed upon them, and to rise against their oppressors. The Italian States, as we have previously mentioned, had leagued together for the defence of the country, and a powerful army had been raised by the Duke of Urbino, assisted by the renowned Giovanni de’ Medici and other leaders, to hold Bourbon in check.
And there was good reason for apprehension. A storm was brewing, which threatened to lay waste the whole of the fair land of Italy. The restless ambition of Bourbon led him to seek for fresh conquests, and he now turned his thoughts towards the south, designing to plunder Rome and make himself King of Naples.
But the army, though devoted to him, was not sufficiently strong for the execution of his plan. While he was considering how he could increase his troops, he learnt, to his great joy, that his late companion-in-arms, Von Frundsberg, had again collected together a large force in Germany, and he immediately despatched Pomperant to acquaint that leader with his project, and to exhort him to enter Italy with all possible despatch, promising him a far larger booty in the new campaign than he had gained at the battle of Pavia.
Incited by this promise, Von Frundsberg entered Italy at the head of fourteen thousand lanz-knechts, and five hundred reiters contributed by the Archduke Ferdinand, under the command of Captain Zucker.
Debouching by the Val de Sabbia, devastating the country as he marched along, plundering the churches and destroying the images, Von Frundsberg at last reached Borgoforte on the Po, whither he was followed by the Duke of Urbino and Giovanni de’ Medici.
A sharp engagement took place, but it was quickly decided in favour of the Germans. During a charge made at the head of his light horse by Medici, that valiant leader was struck by a shot from a falconet, and his leg being grievously shattered, he was carried off the field.
This unlucky event turned the fortune of the day. Discouraged by the fate of their leader, Medici’s cavalry were dispersed by Zucker, while the Venetian infantry retired before Von Frundsberg.
The successful issue of this conflict, the first in which they had been engaged since their irruption into Italy, greatly encouraged the marauding army. Continuing their march without further interruption from the Duke of Urbino, they skirted the right bank of the Po, ravaging the whole territory of Modena, Reggio, and Parma, preying like a cloud of locusts on that rich and fertile district, sacking and burning villages, plundering the churches, and finally halted near Piacenza, where Von Frundsberg pitched his camp to await a junction with Bourbon.
Meanwhile, the army of the Italian League had lost its best leader – the only one, indeed, capable of successfully checking the invasion. From the field of Borgoforte the gallant Giovanni de’ Medici was transported to Mantua, when it was found that his leg was so grievously injured that it was necessary to amputate the limb. The hardy young warrior held a light for the surgeons, and watched them during their task, without shrinking or even changing countenance. But his life could not be saved by the operation.
Thus died Italy’s best champion, and on whom she might have relied at her hour of need.