shown himself thoroughly destitute of the talents of a general. The duke, though he was so nearly allied to the king, yet dreaded so justly his resentment, that he prudently remained at Calais till the fury of it abated, and it required all the address of the cardinal to restore him to Henry's good-will. The emperor had scarcely effected anything during this campaign, and thus allowed Francis more completely to baffle the invasion in the north. It was long before he could prevail on the Cortes to grant supplies for the payment of the German auxiliaries: the arrival of the troops was retarded by other difficulties, when the want of money had been obviated; and when they did come, it was so late in the season, that the Spanish lords refused to entangle themselves in the wild fastnesses of the Pyrenees, on the march towards Guienne, in the depth of winter. Charles could only compel them to follow him by the exertion of his authority, and they accomplished nothing but the reduction of Fontarabia. The troops which Francis had sent into Italy under Bonivet had effected considerable service. Descending from Mount Cenis, Bonivet poured his army of French, Germans, and Swiss over all the north of Lombardy. Asti, Alexandria, and Novara fell into his hands. But he lost time in manoeuvring by the river Ticino; and when he arrived before Milan, he found it put into so complete a state of defence by Prospero Colonna, that it resisted all his efforts to take it, either by storm or by the slower process of famine. The inhabitants, who had already experienced the tyranny of French conquerors, were enthusiastic in their maintenance of it; and in November the weather became so severe that Bonivet was compelled to retire into winter quarters at Rosate and Biagiasso. On the 14th of September, whilst Bonivet was investing Milan, and the Duke of Suffolk was advancing on Paris, an event occurred which arrested the attention of Cardinal Wolsey even more than the engrossing moves on the great chess-board of war. This was the death of the Pope Adrian. He had occupied the papal chair only about twenty months; and so impatient were the Italians of the Flemish pope and his strict economy, that they styled the doctor who attended him in his last sickness the saviour of his country. Wolsey lost no time in putting in his claim; and wrote to Dr. Clark, the English ambassador at Rome, telling him to spare neither money nor promises, for that it was by command of the king, who would undoubtedly see all his engagements performed. This time Wolsey was put in nomination, and obtained a considerable number of votes; but there was no real chance for him, for the Italians were clamorous to have no more ultramontane, or, as they styled them, barbarian popes. Charles V., spite of all his promises to Wolsey, not only did not move a finger in his favour, but threw all his influence into the scale to carry the election of Giulio dei Medici; whilst the French cardinals, to a man, were opposed to Wolsey as the most dangerous enemy to their sovereigu. The conclave met in October, and the discussion was continued through six stormy weeks. The election at length was seen to lie betwixt Jacovaccio Romano and Giulio dei Medici. Cardinal Pompeo Colonna, who held the most decisive influence in the conclave, threw his weight into the scale for Romano, and the balance hung undecided; but all at once it gave way. Colonna, who hated the Medici, gave up his opposition, and Giulio dei Medici was unanimously elected. The causes of this sudden change were supposed to be entreaties from Prospero Colonna, who was in the interest of Charles V., and the offer to make Cardinal Pompeo Colonna vice-chancellor of the papal court-a most lucrative office, with the use of the superb palace of San Giorgio. Wolsey, to all appearance, bore this second disappointment with the equanimity of a philosopher; yet we may justly imagine that it produced a deep change in his feelings towards the emperor, and led to a hostile policy against his interests and those of Queen Catherine, his aunt, in England. But Wolsey had prepared for either event, his election or rejection; and the moment the latter became certain, the whole of the influence of the English Government was employed in favour of the election of Giulio dei Medici. On the strength of this, the English ambassadors congratulated Giulio on his elevation, and solicited the continuance of the legative commission to Wolsey. The Pope, who assumed the name of Clement VII., not only renewed the commission, but granted it for life, with augmented powers; and added to it a commission to reform or suppress certain religious houses in England. This was a dangerous power, and as Wolsey, in 1525-only two years afterwards-by this authority suppressed a number of monasteries, it is by no means improbable that it led Henry to think of those more sweeping changes of the same kind which he afterwards effected. The money thus procured was devoted, notwithstanding the necessities of the state, to the erection of colleges, where both Wolsey and his master declared they were anxious to educate able men in order to oppose effectually the fast-growing heresies of Martin Luther. The campaign in Italy opened in the spring of 1324, with wonderfully increased difficulties for the French. Charles V. had appointed the renegade Duke of Bourbon his generalissimo in that country against his own sovereign and compatriots. Henry of England engaged t› furnish 100,000 crowns for the first month's pay of the duke's army, and to make a diversion by invading Picardy in July. The emperor promised to defray the cost of the Italian army for the remainder of the campaign, and to invade Languedoc at the same time. Thus supported. Bourbon took the field early in the spring; the genius of Bonivet paled before him, and by the end of May the duke had completely freed Italy of his countrymen, and driven them across the Alps. The losses of the French in this retreat were dreadful, and perhaps the greatest calamity was the death of the famous Chevalier Bayard, the knight "sans peur et sans reproche," who was killed as he was protecting the rear of the army, on the banks of the Sesia. Bourbon, ardent and impatient to secure the kingdom which had been proinised him in France, as well a thirsting with desire to take the utmost vengeance on Francis I., entreated the emperor to allow him to quit Italy and enter France with his victorious army. The emperor consented, and the imperial forces soon found themselves descending from the Alps. Unfortunately. Charles had divided the command of this expedition betwixt Bourbon and the Marquis of Pescara, and the certain result was divided councils. Bourbon urged to push forward to Lyons, calculating on his friends and dependants in France flocking to him there; but Pescara had probably different instructions, and accordingly advised that they should descend on Provence, and lay siege to Marseilles. This was palpably the suggestion of the emperor, for he was ambitious of securing Marseilles, and holding it as a key to the south of France, as Calais was to the north, in the hands of the English. Thither, therefore, they marched, entered Provence on the 2nd of July, and on the 19th of August they sat down before Marseilles with an army of 16,000 men. But the situation of the imperial troops very soon became extremely hazardous there. The place was strongly fortified; it contained a garrison of 3,200 men, and these were zealously supported by 9,000 of the inhabitants, who, detesting the Spaniards, took up arms and fought most gallantly. Bourbon and Pescara spent forty days in mining and bombarding the place, when they became aware of a tempest gathering which boded their utter destruction. This was Francis marching from Avignon at the head of 40,000 men. Neither Henry nor the emperor had made those diversions in Languedoc and Picardy which they had promised, and thus the whole weight of the army of Francis was at liberty to descend upon them. Bourbon and Pescara precipitately abandoned the siege, and made for the Alps, in order to regain Italy. If Francis had been contented with this success, he would have stood at the close of the year 1524 on most advantageous ground: spite of the threatened combination of attacks upon him, he would have stood victorious over them all within the boundaries of France. But it was not his nature to rest satisfied with such a position. His ardent temperament spurred him on to secure yet more signal benefits, to pursue and complete the blow upon his adversaries. He therefore resolved to pursue the imperialists into Italy, and he flattered himself that he should speedily wrest from them all that they had won from him. He hastened along the beaten road over Mount Cenis, whilst his imperial foes were working their arduous way through the intricate rocks and ravines of the Riviera del Mare. It became a regular race for the first arrival. Francis hoped to descend upon the plains of Piedmont and Lombardy, and reach Milan before Bourbon and Pescara; but, apprised of his intentions, they put out all their energies, and by the time Francis had arrived at Vercelli, they had reached Alva. They pushed by forced marches to Milan, but there they found a pestilence raging; and, throwing a garrison into the castle, they hastened out at the Porta Romana, as the troops of Francis entered the Porta Ticina. At this moment Francis committed a military error, which probably deprived him of the triumph of thoroughly routing his enemies. To have continued the pursuit was almost certainly to have destroyed the imperialist force, for it was worn down by its severe marches, and the road to Lodi by which Pescara retreated was actually strewn with his exhausted horses. The army of Pescara was the sole imperial force now in Italy, and its defeat would have been the immediate recovery of the Milanese territory. But Francis was beguiled into the delay of besieging Pavia, in which Pescara had left a strong garrison 173 under Antonio da Leyva. Pavia was a well-fortified city, situated on the deep and rapid Ticino, in a peculiarly strong position, and had repeatedly defied armies for a long time together, particularly those of the Lombards and of Charlemagne. The moment Pescara heard of Francis sitting down before it, he exclaimed that he was saved! Every exertion was made by the imperialists to profit by the time thus given them. The Duke of Bourbon hastened over the Alps to Germany to raise 12,000 men, for which purpose he had pawned his jewels. Lannoy, the viceroy of Naples, pledged the regular revenues of that kingdom for ready cash for the hiring of troops, and great activity was displayed in raising an army and posting it betwixt the Adda and Ticino. For three months Francis continued lying before Pavia, and committed the further error of weakening his forces, by detaching 6,000 of them, under Albany, the late regent of Scotland, to menace the kingdom of Naples. There Francis contrived to lie during the winter, whilst his enemies were inciting the King of England to aid their efforts to crush him in the spring. This mission to England would appear to have been hastened by some mysterious coquetting which was discovered to be carrying on betwixt the Court of England and Louise, the mother of Francis, in his absence. An Italian, named Giovanni Joacchino, appeared in England under the cha racter of a merchant. It was soon known that this pretended merchant was the emissary of Louise, and De Praet, the ambassador of the emperor, became alarmed at his presence. Wolsey did not conceal the real character of the man, but promised to disclose to De Praet whatever overtures he should make from the Court of France. But for eight months Joacchino stayed at London, and was in such close intercourse with the cardinal that De Praet grew more and more suspicious. He wrote these suspicions to the emperor, and to Margaret of Savoy, the governess of the Netherlands, and had the mortification to find one of his messengers intercepted on the way, his despatches seized, and carried to the English council. It is patent that the tide of Wolsey's hopes and feelings was on the turn; that the repeated neglect of Charles V. to keep his promise of securing the popedom, had converted him already from an open friend to a secret enemy, and this was the more marked by the circumstance of Henry now demanding payment from the emperor of the sums he had borrowed when in England, and the greater sums due from Francis, for which Charles had made himself responsible. These disclosures, however, and the remonstrances of Clement VII, by the Archbishop of Capua, aroused Henry to a display of affected zeal for the imperial cause. He ordered Sir John Russell to pay over to the Duke of Bourbon 50,000 crowns, with a power to add five or ten thousand more, if he thought it advisable, and instructions were sent to Dr. Pace to urge the Venetians to secure the Alpine passes, so as to cut off the reinforcements of the French; and Sir Gregory da Casale was instructed to concert with Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, for the protection of that kingdom from the attacks of Albany, and to drive the French wholly out of Italy. In the beginning of February, 1525, the imperialist generals thought themselves strong enough to attack the French in their entrenchments. These entrenchments troops. The generals themselves were suffering from want of provisions and pay for their troops. In the French camp the wisest commanders counselled Francis to raise the siege and retire to Milan, confident that the enemy must soon disband from want of pay. But Bonivet treated this counsel as mean and dastardly; and, unfortunately, that was the tone most likely to captivate the chivalrous mind of the French king. He resolved to stand his ground. drew his troops out of their entrenchments, and made a push across the Ticino, but he found the bridge demolished, and a strong body of the Spaniards closely drawn up on the banks. Attacked fiercely by the gar rison in the rear, and hemmed in by the imperial army in front, the battle became desperate. Francis had his horse killed under him; the Swiss, contrary to their wont, turned and fled at the first charge; and the Germans, who fought with singular valour, were anni. gave him his own in return, saying it did not become a monarch to appear unarmed in the presence of a subject. The king was relieved of his helmet by James D'Avila; and the Spanish soldiers, who admired his valour, came crowding around him, and snatched the feathers from it, and, when they were all gone, even cut pieces from his clothes, to keep as memorials that they had fought hand to hand with him. Francis was soon left standing in his jerkin and hose, and, spite of his misfortune, could not help laughing at his situation, and at the eagerness of the soldiers for something belonging to him. Presently Bourbon presented himself with his sword in his hand, dripping with the blood of his own countrymen. At that sight the king was seized with the deadly paleness of indignation. Bourbon fell on his knees, and requested permission to kiss his sovereign's hand, but Francis turned from him with contempt. "Ah, sire!" exclaimed the constable, bursting into tears, "had you followed my advice in some things, you would not be now in this condition, nor would the plains of Italy be soaked with the best blood of France." There was too much truth in the statement; for Francis had been misled by the arts of a vengeful woman, and Bourbon had been driven by crying injustice into rebellion. But Francis, mounting a horse which was brought him, rode away with Pescara and Lannoy, without deigning another look at the duke. He was conveyed to the fortress of Pizzighitone, where he was strictly guarded, but with all honour, till the pleasure of the emperor should be ascertained. Francis wrote to his mother by Pennalosa, to whom he also gave a passport to pass through France, and convey the news to the emperor. Louise was at Lyons when the messenger arrived there, and delivered the royal letter. It contained simply the words, "Madame, all is lost, except our honour!" Admiral Bonivet, Marshal de Chabannes, and Richard de la Pole, a pretender to the crown of England, with more than 8,000 of the French army, fell in this action. The titular King of Navarre, the bastard of Savoy, and many distinguished officers, were taken with the king. All the artillery, arms, ammunition, military chest, and baggage of the vanquished army fell into the hands of the allies, who were astounded at the greatness of their victory. The amazement and consternation which fell on France at the news of this terrible disaster are scarcely to be imagined. Nothing, indeed, could be more melancholy than the situation of that kingdom. Her king was captive, her most distinguished generals and the flower of the army were taken or slain, powerful and triumphant enemies on all sides were ready to seize her as a spoil, and she was equally destitute of allies, of money, of troops, or wise counsel. Scarcely less was the terror of the princes and the states of Italy, for their only safety-the balance of power-was destroyed, and there appeared no defence against the predominant power of the emperor. He Charles himself assumed an air of singular composure and moderation on the receipt of this brilliant news. had been daily expecting to hear of the defeat of his army, when, on the 10th of March, came the tidings of this great victory. We may imagine, therefore, his real joy. But such was his command of his feelings, that nothing of this appeared in his manner. He perused the despatches with the most perfect composure, affected even to commiserate the fall of his rival, and moralised sagely on the uncertainty of all human greatness. A little time, however, was sufficient to show that all this was dissimulation, and his conduct to Francis was ample proof that he had neither pity nor generosity. Henry of England, on the contrary, gave freedom to his expressions of joy. Though he was actually on his way to coalesce with Francis against Charles, he saw at once the immense advantages this defeat and capture offered for aggressions on his kingdom, and he therefore ordered the most public rejoicings in London and all his other cities, and rode himself in state to St. Paul's, where the cardinal performed mass, assisted by eleven bishops, in presence of the Court and all the foreign ambassadors; and afterwards "Te Deum" was sung. Henry then posted off Tunstal, Bishop of London, and Sir Richard Wingfield, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, into Spain to congratulate the emperor on his splendid triumph, and modestly to propose that they should divide France between them. Nay, Henry had the assurance to claim, by the treaty betwixt these two exemplary monarchs, that he should be crowned King of France at Paris, and that Charles should satisfy himself with certain northern and southern provinces. By another article of this treaty it was stipulated that any prince taken prisoner during the war should be delivered over to that sovereign whose territories he had invaded. Henry, therefore, instructed his ambassadors to claim the surrender of Francis to him, on the plea that he had not only invaded Normandy and Guienne, but France itself, which he contended was rightfully his inheritance. These extravagant and absurd demands, which could have risen in the mind of no man who was not puffed up by the most insane vanity, were not very likely to be received with any degree of attention by Charles in the very hour of his triumph, and conscious of the immensely augmented power of his position. To induce Charles to consent to this improbable arrangement, Henry proposed at once to put the Princess Mary, who was betrothed to Charles, into his hands-in fact, to make the exchange of her person for that of Francis. Henry was the more buoyed up in these wild notions by the fact that the ambassador of Charles had just been applying for the delivery of the princess. So confident was Henry of the cession of his claims by the emperor, that he instantly took measures to raise the money necessary for the invasion of France. As he had resolved to rule without the interference of parliaments, he sent out commissioners to every part of the country to levy the sixth part of the goods of the laity and a fourth of those of the clergy. The scheme was entirely unconstitutional, the commissioners performed their part in a harsh and over-bearing manner, trusting thus to intimidate the people into compliance, and the consequence was a universal resentment and resistance. Clergy and lay, rich and poor, all alike denounced the arbitrary and illegal impost. "How the great men took it," says Hall, was marvel: the poor cursed, the rich repugned, the lighter sort railed, and, in conclusion, all men execrated the cardinal as the subverter of the laws and liberties of England. For, said they, if men should give their goods |