Alessandro Farnese, Duke of Parma and Piacenza
Like I said before, I am in awe of this man.
Unfortunately, I have been unable to find any "modern" biographies of him and have had to make do with an old one (written in the nineteenth century and not really a biography, it just features him prominently).
From John Lothrop Morley's History of United Netherlands, 1592-1594--courtesy of Project Gutenberg, which provides e-copies of books with expired copyrights totally free-of-charge.
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Title: History of the United Netherlands, 1592-94
Author: John Lothrop Motley
Release Date: January, 2004 [EBook #4865]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on April 9, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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CHAPTER XXVIII.
An extract on how the duke's reputation was blackened in the eyes of Philip II of Spain, his master:
For the king was quite determined--in case his efforts to obtain the
crown for himself or for his daughter were unsuccessful--to dismember
France, with the assistance of those eminent Frenchmen who were now so
industriously aiding him in his projects.
"And in the third place," said he, in his secret instructions to Feria,
"if for the sins of all, we don't manage to make any election, and if
therefore the kingdom (of France) has to come to separation and to be
divided into many hands; in this case we must propose to the Duke of
Mayenne to assist him in getting possession of Normandy for himself, and
as to the rest of the kingdom, I shall take for myself that which seems
good to me--all of us assisting each other."
But unfortunately it was difficult for any of these fellow-labourers to
assist each other very thoroughly, while they detested each other so
cordially and suspected each other with such good reason.
Moreo, Ybarra, Feria, Parma, all assured their master that Mayenne was
taking Spanish money as fast as he could get it, but with the sole
purpose of making himself king. As to any of the House of Lorraine
obtaining the hand of the Infanta and the throne with it, Feria assured
Philip that Mayenne "would sooner give the crown to the Grand Turk."
Nevertheless Philip thought it necessary to continue making use of the
duke. Both were indefatigable therefore in expressing feelings of
boundless confidence each in the other.
It has been seen too how entirely the king relied on the genius and
devotion of Alexander Farnese to carry out his great schemes; and
certainly never had monarch a more faithful, unscrupulous, and dexterous
servant. Remonstrating, advising, but still obeying--entirely without
conscience, unless it were conscience to carry out his master's commands,
even when most puerile or most diabolical--he was nevertheless the object
of Philip's constant suspicion, and felt himself placed under perpetual
though secret supervision.
Commander Moreo was unwearied in blackening the duke's character, and in
maligning his every motive and action, and greedily did the king incline
his ear to the calumnies steadily instilled by the chivalrous spy.
"He has caused all the evil we are suffering," said Moreo. "When he sent
Egmont to France 'twas without infantry, although Egmont begged hard for
it, as did likewise the Legate, Don Bernardino, and Tassis. Had he done
this there is no doubt at all that the Catholic cause in France would
have been safe, and your Majesty would now have the control over that
kingdom which you desire. This is the opinion of friends and foes. I
went to the Duke of Parma and made free to tell him that the whole world
would blame him for the damage done to Christianity, since your Majesty
had exonerated yourself by ordering him to go to the assistance of the
French Catholics with all the zeal possible. Upon this he was so
disgusted that he has never shown me a civil face since. I doubt whether
he will send or go to France at all, and although the Duke of Mayenne
despatches couriers every day with protestations and words that would
soften rocks, I see no indications of a movement."
Thus, while the duke was making great military preparations far invading
France without means; pawning his own property to get bread for his
starving veterans, and hanging those veterans whom starving had made.
mutinous, he was depicted, to the most suspicious and unforgiving mortal
that ever wore a crown, as a traitor and a rebel, and this while he was
renouncing his own judicious and well-considered policy in obedience to
the wild schemes of his master.
"I must make bold to remind your Majesty," again whispered the spy, "that
there never was an Italian prince who failed to pursue his own ends, and
that there are few in the world that are not wishing to become greater
than they are. This man here could strike a greater blow than all the
rest of them put together. Remember that there is not a villain anywhere
that does not desire the death of your Majesty. Believe me, and send to
cut off my head if it shall be found that I am speaking from passion, or
from other motive than pure zeal for your royal service."
The reader will remember into what a paroxysm of rage Alexander was
thrown on, a former occasion, when secretly invited to listen to
propositions by which the sovereignty over the Netherlands was to be
secured to himself, and how near he was to inflicting mortal punishment
with his own hand on the man who had ventured to broach that treasonable
matter.
Such projects and propositions were ever floating, as it were, in the
atmosphere, and it was impossible for the most just men to escape
suspicion in the mind of a king who fed upon suspicion as his daily
bread. Yet nothing could be fouler or falser than the calumny which
described Alexander as unfaithful to Philip. Had he served his God as he
served his master perhaps his record before the highest tribunal would
have been a clearer one.
And in the same vein in which he wrote to the monarch in person did the
crafty Moreo write to the principal secretary of state, Idiaquez, whose
mind, as well as his master's, it was useful to poison, and who was in
daily communication with Philip.
"Let us make sure of Flanders," said he, "otherwise we shall all of us be
well cheated. I will tell you something of that which I have already
told his Majesty, only not all, referring you to Tassis, who, as a
personal witness to many things, will have it in his power to undeceive
his Majesty, I have seen very clearly that the duke is disgusted with his
Majesty, and one day he told me that he cared not if the whole world went
to destruction, only not Flanders."
"Another day he told me that there was a report abroad that his Majesty
was sending to arrest him, by means of the Duke of Pastrana, and looking
at me he said: 'See here, seignior commander, no threats, as if it were
in the power of mortal man to arrest me, much less of such fellows as
these.'"
"But this is but a small part of what I could say," continued the
detective knight-commander, "for I don't like to trust these ciphers.
But be certain that nobody in Flanders wishes well to these estates or to
the Catholic cause, and the associates of the Duke of Parma go about
saying that it does not suit the Italian potentates to have his Majesty
as great a monarch as he is trying to be."
This is but a sample of the dangerous stuff with which the royal mind was
steadily drugged, day after day, by those to whom Farnese was especially
enjoined to give his confidence.
Later on it will be seen how-much effect was thus produced both upon the
king and upon the duke. Moreo, Mendoza, and Tasais were placed about the
governor-general, nominally as his counsellors, in reality as police-
officers.
"You are to confer regularly with Mendoza, Tassis, and Moreo," said
Philip to Farnese.
"You are to assist, correspond, and harmonize in every way with the Duke
of Parma," wrote Philip to Mendoza, Tassis, and Moreo. And thus cordially
and harmoniously were the trio assisting and corresponding with the duke.
But Moreo was right in not wishing to trust the ciphers, and indeed he
had trusted them too much, for Farnese was very well aware of his
intrigues, and complained bitterly of them to the king and to Idiaquez.
Most eloquently and indignantly did he complain of the calumnies, ever
renewing themselves, of which he was the subject. "'Tis this good Moreo
who is the author of the last falsehoods," said he to the secretary; "and
this is but poor payment for my having neglected my family, my parents
and children for so many years in the king's service, and put my life
ever on the hazard, that these fellows should be allowed to revile me
and make game of me now, instead of assisting me."
He was at that time, after almost superhuman exertions, engaged in the
famous relief of Paris. He had gone there, he said, against his judgment
and remonstrating with his Majesty on the insufficiency of men and money
for such an enterprise. His army was half-mutinous and unprovided with
food, artillery, or munitions; and then he found himself slandered,
ridiculed, his life's life lied away. 'Twas poor payment for his
services, he exclaimed, if his Majesty should give ear to these
calumniators, and should give him no chance of confronting his accusers
and clearing his reputation. Moreo detested him, as he knew, and Prince
Doria said that the commander once spoke so ill of Farnese in Genoa that
he was on the point of beating him; while Moreo afterwards told the story
as if he had been maltreated because of defending Farnese against Doria's
slanders.
And still more vehemently did he inveigh against Moreo in his direct
appeals to Philip. He had intended to pass over his calumnies, of which
he was well aware, because he did not care to trouble the dead--for Moreo
meantime had suddenly died, and the gossips, of course, said it was of
Farnese poison--but he had just discovered by documents that the
commander had been steadily and constantly pouring these his calumnies
into the monarch's ears. He denounced every charge as lies, and demanded
proof. Moreo had further been endeavouring to prejudice the Duke of
Mayenne against the King of Spain and himself, saying that he, Farnese,
had been commissioned to take Mayenne into custody, with plenty of
similar lies.
"But what I most feel," said Alexander, with honest wrath, "is to see
that your Majesty gives ear to them without making the demonstration
which my services merit, and has not sent to inform me of them, seeing
that they may involve my reputation and honour. People have made more
account of these calumnies than of my actions performed upon the theatre
of the world. I complain, after all my toils and dangers in your
Majesty's service, just when I stood with my soul in my mouth and death
in my teeth, forgetting children, house, and friends, to be treated thus,
instead of receiving rewards and honour, and being enabled to leave to my
children, what was better than all the riches the royal hand could
bestow, an unsullied and honourable name."
He protested that his reputation had so much suffered that he would
prefer to retire to some remote corner as a humble servant of the king,
and leave a post which had made him so odious to all. Above all, he
entreated his Majesty to look upon this whole affair "not only like a
king but like a gentleman."
Philip answered these complaints and reproaches benignantly, expressed
unbounded confidence in the duke, assured him that the calumnies of his
supposed enemies could produce no effect upon the royal mind, and coolly
professed to have entirely forgotten having received any such letter as
that of which his nephew complained. "At any rate I have mislaid it," he
said, "so that you see how much account it was with me."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Approaching the end:
During the first French expedition-in the course of which Farnese had
saved Paris from falling into, the hands of Henry, and had been doing his
best to convert it prospectively into the capital of his master's empire-
-it was his duty, of course, to represent as accurately as possible the
true state of France. He submitted his actions to his master's will, but
he never withheld from him the advantage that he might have derived, had
he so chosen, from his nephew's luminous intelligence and patient
observation.
With the chief personage he had to deal with he professed himself, at
first, well satisfied. "The Duke of Mayenne," said he to Philip,
"persists in desiring your Majesty only as King of France, and will hear
of no other candidate, which gives me satisfaction such as can't be
exaggerated." Although there were difficulties in the way, Farnese
thought that the two together with God's help might conquer them.
"Certainly it is not impossible that your Majesty may succeed," he said,
"although very problematical; and in case your Majesty does succeed in
that which we all desire and are struggling for, Mayenne not only demands
the second place in the kingdom for himself, but the fief of some great
province for his family."
Should it not be possible for Philip to obtain the crown, Farnese was,
on the whole, of opinion that Mayenne had better be elected. In that
event he would make over Brittany and Burgundy to Philip, together with
the cities opposite the English coast. If they were obliged to make the
duke king, as was to be feared, they should at any rate exclude the
Prince of Bearne, and secure, what was the chief point, the Catholic
religion. "This," said Alexander, "is about what I can gather of
Mayenne's views, and perhaps he will put them down in a despatch to your
Majesty."
After all, the duke was explicit enough. He was for taking all he could
get--the whole kingdom if possible--but if foiled, then as large a slice
of it as Philip would give him as the price of his services. And
Philip's ideas were not materially different from those of the other
conspirator.
Both were agreed on one thing. The true heir must be kept out of his
rights, and the Catholic religion be maintained in its purity. As to the
inclination of the majority of the inhabitants, they could hardly be in
the dark. They knew that the Bearnese was instinctively demanded by the
nation; for his accession to the throne would furnish the only possible
solution to the entanglements which had so long existed.
As to the true sentiments of the other politicians and soldiers of the
League with whom Bearnese came in contact in France, he did not disguise
from his master that they were anything but favourable.
"That you may know, the, humour of this kingdom," said he, "and the
difficulties in which I am placed, I must tell you that I am by large
experience much confirmed in that which I have always suspected. Men
don't love nor esteem the royal name of your Majesty, and whatever the
benefits and assistance they get from you they have no idea of anything
redounding to your benefit and royal service, except so far as implied in
maintaining the Catholic religion and keeping out the Bearne. These two
things, however, they hold to be so entirely to your Majesty's profit,
that all you are doing appears the fulfilment of a simple obligation.
They are filled with fear, jealousy, and suspicion of your Majesty. They
dread your acquiring power here. Whatever negotiations they pretend
in regard to putting the kingdom or any of their cities under your
protection, they have never had any real intention of doing it, but their
only object is to keep up our vain hopes while they are carrying out
their own ends. If to-day they seem to have agreed upon any measure,
tomorrow they are sure to get out of it again. This has always been the
case, and all your Majesty's ministers that have had dealings here would
say so, if they chose to tell the truth. Men are disgusted with the
entrance of the army, and if they were not expecting a more advantageous
peace in the kingdom with my assistance than without it, I don't know
what they would do; for I have heard what I have heard and seen what I
have seen. They are afraid of our army, but they want its assistance and
our money."
Certainly if Philip desired enlightenment as to the real condition of the
country he had determined to, appropriate; and the true sentiments of its
most influential inhabitants, here, was the man most competent of all the
world to advise him; describing the situation for him, day by day, in the
most faithful manner. And at every, step the absolutely puerile
inadequacy of the means, employed by the king to accomplish his gigantic
purposes became apparent. If the crime of subjugating or at least
dismembering the great kingdom of France were to, be attempted with any
hope of success, at least it might have been expected that the man
employed to consummate the deed would be furnished with more troops and
money than would be required to appropriate a savage island off the
Caribbean, or a German. principality. But Philip expected miracles to
be accomplished by the mere private assertion of his will. It was so
easy to conquer realms the writing table.
"I don't say," continued Farnese, "if I could have entered France with a
competent army, well paid and disciplined, with plenty of artillery, and
munitions, and with funds enough to enable Mayenne to buy up the nobles
of his party, and to conciliate the leaders generally with presents and
promises, that perhaps they might not have softened. Perhaps interest
and fear would have made that name agreeable which pleases them so
little, now that the very reverse of all this has occurred. My want of
means is causing a thousand disgusts among the natives of the country,
and it is this penury that will be the chief cause of the disasters which
may occur."
Here was sufficiently plain speaking. To conquer a war-like nation
without an army; to purchase a rapacious nobility with an empty purse,
were tasks which might break the stoutest heart. They were breaking
Alexander's.
Yet Philip had funds enough, if he had possessed financial ability
himself, or any talent for selecting good financiers. The richest
countries of the old world and the new were under his sceptre; the mines
of Peru and Mexico; the wealth of farthest Ind, were at his disposition;
and moreover he drove a lucrative traffic in the sale of papal bulls and
massbooks, which were furnished to him at a very low figure, and which he
compelled the wild Indians of America and the savages of the Pacific to
purchase of him at an enormous advance. That very year, a Spanish
carrack had been captured by the English off the Barbary coast, with an
assorted cargo, the miscellaneous nature of which gives an idea of royal
commercial pursuits at that period. Besides wine in large quantities
there were fourteen hundred chests of quicksilver, an article
indispensable to the working of the silver mines, and which no one but
the king could, upon pain of death, send to America. He received,
according to contract; for every pound of quicksilver thus delivered a
pound of pure silver, weight for weight. The ship likewise contained ten
cases of gilded mass-books and papal bulls. The bulls, two million and
seventy thousand in number, for the dead and the living, were intended
for the provinces of New Spain, Yucatan, Guatemala, Honduras, and the
Philippines. The quicksilver and the bulls cost the king three hundred
thousand florins, but he sold them for five million. The .price at,
which the bulls were to be sold varied-according to the letters of advice
found in the ships--from two to four reals a piece, and the inhabitants
of those conquered regions were obliged to buy them. "From all this,"
says a contemporary chronicler; "is to be seen what a thrifty trader was
the king."
The affairs of France were in such confusion that it was impossible for
them, according to Farnese, to remain in such condition much longer
without bringing about entire decomposition. Every man was doing as he
chose--whether governor of a city, commander of a district, or gentleman
in his castle. Many important nobles and prelates followed the Bearnese
party, and Mayenne was entitled to credit for doing as well as he did.
There was no pretence, however, that his creditable conduct was due to
anything but the hope of being well paid. "If your Majesty should decide
to keep Mayenne," said Alexander, "you can only do it with large: sums of
money. He is a good Catholic and very firm in his purpose, but is so
much opposed by his own party, that if I had not so stimulated him by
hopes of his own grandeur, he would have grown desperate--such small
means has he of maintaining his party--and, it is to be feared, he would
have made arrangements with Bearne, who offers him carte-blanche."
The disinterested man had expressed his assent to the views of Philip in
regard to the assembly of the estates and the election of king, but had
claimed the sum of six hundred thousand dollars as absolutely necessary
to the support of himself and followers until those events should occur.
Alexander not having that sum at his disposal was inclined to defer
matters, but was more and more confirmed in his opinion that the Duke was
a "man of truth, faith, and his word." He had distinctly agreed that no
king should be elected, not satisfactory to Philip, and had "stipulated
in return that he should have in this case, not only the second place in
the kingdom, but some very great and special reward in full property."
Thus the man of truth, faith, and his word had no idea of selling himself
cheap, but manifested as much commercial genius as the Fuggers themselves
could have displayed, had they been employed as brokers in these
mercantile transactions.
Above all things, Alexander implored the king to be expeditious,
resolute, and liberal; for, after all, the Bearnese might prove a more
formidable competitor than he was deemed. "These matters must be
arranged while the iron is hot," he said, "in order that the name and
memory of the Bearne and of all his family may be excluded at once and
forever; for your Majesty must not doubt that the whole kingdom inclines
to him, both because he is natural successor, to the crowns and because
in this way the civil war would cease. The only thing that gives trouble
is the religions defect, so that if this should be remedied in
appearance, even if falsely, men would spare no pains nor expense in his
cause."
No human being at that moment, assuredly, could look into the immediate
future accurately enough to see whether the name and memory of the man,
whom his adherents called Henry the Fourth of France, and whom Spaniards,
legitimists and enthusiastic papists, called the Prince of Bearne, were
to be for ever excluded from the archives of France; whether Henry, after
spending the whole of his life as a pretender, was destined to bequeath
the same empty part to his descendants, should they think it worth their
while to play it. Meantime the sages smiled superior at his delusion;
while Alexander Farnese, on the contrary, better understanding the
chances of the great game which they were all playing, made bold to tell
his master that all hearts in France were inclining to their natural
lord. "Differing from your Majesty," said he, "I am of opinion that
there is no better means of excluding him than to make choice of the Duke
of Mayenne, as a person agreeable to the people, and who could only reign
by your permission and support."
Thus, after much hesitation and circumlocution, the nephew made up his
mind to chill his uncle's hopes of the crown, and to speak a decided
opinion in behalf of the man of his word, faith and truth.
And thus through the whole of the two memorable campaigns made by
Alexander in France, he never failed to give his master the most accurate
pictures of the country, and an interior view of its politics; urging
above all the absolute necessity of providing much more liberal supplies
for the colossal adventure in which he was engaged. "Money and again
money is what is required," he said. "The principal matter is to be
accomplished with money, and the particular individuals must be bought
with money. The good will of every French city must be bought with
money. Mayenne must be humoured. He is getting dissatisfied. Very
probably he is intriguing with Bearne. Everybody is pursuing his private
ends. Mayenne has never abandoned his own wish to be king, although he
sees the difficulties in the way; and while he has not the power to do us
as much good as is thought, it is certainly in his hands to do us a great
deal of injury."
When his army was rapidly diminishing by disease, desertion, mutiny, and
death, he vehemently and perpetually denounced the utter inadequacy of
the king's means to his vast projects. He protested that he was not to
blame for the ruin likely to come upon the whole enterprise. He had
besought, remonstrated, reasoned with Philip--in vain. He assured his
master that in the condition of weakness in which they found themselves,
not very triumphant negotiations could be expected, but that he would do
his best. "The Frenchmen," he said, "are getting tired of our disorders,
and scandalized by our weakness, misery, and poverty. They disbelieve
the possibility of being liberated through us."
He was also most diligent in setting before the king's eyes the dangerous
condition of the obedient Netherlands, the poverty of the finances, the
mutinous degeneration of the once magnificent Spanish army, the misery of
the country, the ruin of the people, the discontent of the nobles, the
rapid strides made by the republic, the vast improvement in its military
organization, the rising fame of its young stadholder, the thrift of its
exchequer, the rapid development of its commerce, the menacing aspect
which it assumed towards all that was left of Spanish power in those
regions.
Moreover, in the midst of the toils and anxieties of war-making and
negotiation, he had found time to discover and to send to his master
the left leg of the glorious apostle St. Philip, and the head of the
glorious martyr St. Lawrence, to enrich his collection of relics; and it
may be doubted whether these treasures were not as welcome to the king as
would have been the news of a decisive victory.
During the absence of Farnese in his expeditions against the Bearnese,
the government of his provinces was temporarily in the hands of Peter
Ernest Mansfeld.
This grizzled old fighter--testy, choleric, superannuated--was utterly
incompetent for his post. He was a mere tool in the hands of his son.
Count Charles hated Parma very cordially, and old Count Peter was made
to believe himself in danger of being poisoned or poniarded by the duke.
He was perpetually wrangling with, importuning and insulting him in
consequence, and writing malicious letters to the king in regard to him.
The great nobles, Arschot, Chimay, Berlaymont, Champagny, Arenberg, and
the rest, were all bickering among themselves, and agreeing in nothing
save in hatred to Farnese.
A tight rein, a full exchequer, a well-ordered and well-paid army, and
his own constant patience, were necessary, as Alexander too well knew,
to make head against the republic, and to hold what was left of the
Netherlands. But with a monthly allowance, and a military force not
equal to his own estimates for the Netherland work, he was ordered to go
forth from the Netherlands to conquer France--and with it the dominion of
the world--for the recluse of the Escorial.
Very soon it was his duty to lay bare to his master, still more
unequivocally than ever, the real heart of Mayenne. No one could surpass
Alexander in this skilful vivisection of political characters; and he
soon sent the information that the Duke was in reality very near closing
his bargain with the Bearnese, while amusing Philip and drawing largely
from his funds.
Thus, while faithfully doing his master's work with sword and pen, with
an adroitness such as no other man could have matched, it was a necessary
consequence that Philip should suspect, should detest, should resolve to
sacrifice him. While assuring his nephew, as we have seen, that
elaborate, slanderous reports and protocols concerning him, sent with
such regularity by the chivalrous Moreo and the other spies, had been
totally disregarded, even if they had ever met his eye, he was quietly
preparing--in the midst of all these most strenuous efforts of Alexander,
in the field at peril of his life, in the cabinet at the risk of his
soul--to deprive him of his office, and to bring him, by stratagem if
possible, but otherwise by main force, from the Netherlands to Spain.
This project, once-resolved upon, the king proceeded to execute with
that elaborate attention to detail, with that feline stealth which
distinguished him above all kings or chiefs of police that have ever
existed. Had there been a murder at the end of the plot, as perhaps
there was to be--Philip could not have enjoyed himself more. Nothing
surpassed the industry for mischief of this royal invalid.
The first thing to be done was of course the inditing of a most
affectionate epistle to his nephew.
"Nephew," said he, "you know the confidence which I have always placed in
you and all that I have put in your hands, and I know how much you are to
me, and how earnestly you work in my service, and so, if I could have you
at the same time in several places, it would be a great relief to me.
Since this cannot be however, I wish to make use of your assistance,
according to the times and occasions, in order that I may have some
certainty as to the manner in which all this business is to be managed,
may see why the settlement of affairs in France is thus delayed, and what
the state of things in Christendom generally is, and may consult with,
you about an army which I am getting levied here, and about certain
schemes now on foot in regard to the remedy for all this; all which makes
me desire your presence here for some time, even if a short time, in
order to resolve upon and arrange with the aid of your advice and
opinion, many affairs concerning the public good and facilitate their
execution by means of your encouragement and presence, and to obtain the
repose which I hope for in putting them into your hands. And so I charge
and command you that, if you desire to content me, you use all possible
diligence to let me see you here as soon as possible, and that you start
at once for Genoa."
He was further directed to leave Count Mansfeld at the head of affairs
during this temporary absence, as had been the case so often before,
instructing him to make use of the Marquis of Cerralbo, who was already
there, to lighten labours that might prove too much for a man of
Mansfeld's advanced age.
"I am writing to the marquis," continued the king, "telling him that he
is to obey all your orders. As to the reasons of your going away, you
will give out that it is a decision of your own, founded on good cause,
or that it is a summons of mine, but full of confidence and good will
towards you, as you see that it is."
The date of this letter was 20th February, 1592.
The secret instructions to the man who was thus to obey all the duke's
orders were explicit enough upon that point, although they were wrapped
in the usual closely-twisted phraseology which distinguished Philip's
style when his purpose was most direct.
Cerralbo was entrusted with general directions as to the French matter,
and as to peace negotiations with "the Islands;" but the main purport of
his mission was to remove Alexander Farnese. This was to be done by fair
means, if possible; if not, he was to be deposed and sent home by force.
This was to be the reward of all the toil and danger through which he had
grown grey and broken in the king's service.
"When you get to the Netherlands" (for the instructions were older than
the letter to Alexander just cited), "you are," said the king, "to treat
of the other two matters until the exact time arrives for the third,
taking good care not to, cut the thread of good progress in the affairs
of France if by chance they are going on well there.
"When the time arrives to treat of commission number three," continued
his Majesty, "you will take occasion of the arrival of the courier of
20th February, and will give with much secrecy the letter of that date to
the duke; showing him at the same time the first of the two which you
will have received."
If the duke showed the letter addressed to him by his uncle--which the
reader has already seen--then the marquis was to discuss with him the
details of the journey, and comment upon the benefits and increased
reputation which would be the result of his return to Spain.
"But if the duke should not show you the letter," proceeded Philip, "and
you suspect that he means to conceal and equivocate about the particulars
of it, you can show him your letter number two, in which it is stated
that you have received a copy of the letter to the duke. This will make
the step easier."
Should the duke declare himself ready to proceed to Spain on the ground
indicated--that the king had need of his services--the marquis was then
to hasten his departure as earnestly as possible. Every pains were to be
taken to overcome any objections that might be made by the duke on the
score of ill health, while the great credit which attached to this
summons to consult with the king in such arduous affairs was to be duly
enlarged upon. Should Count Mansfeld meantime die of old age, and should
Farnese insist the more vehemently, on that account, upon leaving his son
the Prince Ranuccio in his post as governor, the marquis was authorised
to accept the proposition for the moment--although secretly instructed
that such an appointment was really quite out of the question--if by so
doing the father could be torn from the place immediately.
But if all would not do, and if it should become certain that the duke
would definitively refuse to take his departure, it would then become
necessary to tell him clearly, but secretly, that no excuse would be
accepted, but that go he must; and that if he did not depart voluntarily
within a fixed time, he would be publicly deprived of office and
conducted to Spain by force.
But all these things were to be managed with the secrecy and mystery so
dear to the heart of Philip. The marquis was instructed to go first to
the castle of Antwerp, as if upon financial business, and there begin his
operations. Should he find at last all his private negotiations and
coaxings of no avail, he was then to make use of his secret letters from
the king to the army commanders, the leading nobles of the country, and
of the neighbouring princes, all of whom were to be undeceived in regard
to the duke, and to be informed of the will of his majesty.
The real successor of Farnese was to be the Archduke Albert, Cardinal of
Austria, son of Archduke Ferdinand, and the letters on this subject were
to be sent by a "decent and confidential person" so soon as it should
become obvious that force would be necessary in order to compel the
departure of Alexander. For if it came to open rupture, it would be
necessary to have the cardinal ready to take the place. If the affair
were arranged amicably, then the new governor might proceed more at
leisure. The marquis was especially enjoined, in case the duke should be
in France, and even if it should be necessary for him to follow him there
on account of commissions number one and two, not to say a word to him
then of his recall, for fear of damaging matters in that kingdom. He was
to do his best to induce him to return to Flanders, and when they were
both there, he was to begin his operations.
Thus, with minute and artistic treachery, did Philip provide for the
disgrace and ruin of the man who was his near blood relation, and who had
served him most faithfully from earliest youth. It was not possible to
carry out the project immediately, for, as it has already been narrated,
Farnese, after achieving, in spite of great obstacles due to the dulness
of the king alone, an extraordinary triumph, had been dangerously
wounded, and was unable for a brief interval to attend to public affairs.
On the conclusion of his Rouen campaign he had returned to the
Netherlands, almost immediately betaking himself to the waters of Spa.
The Marquis de Cerralbo meanwhile had been superseded in his important
secret mission by the Count of Fuentes, who received the same
instructions as had been provided for the marquis.
But ere long it seemed to become unnecessary to push matters to
extremities. Farnese, although nominally the governor, felt himself
unequal to take the field against the vigorous young commander who was
carrying everything before him in the north and east. Upon the Mansfelds
was the responsibility for saving Steenwyk and Coeworden, and to the
Mansfelds did Verdugo send piteously, but in vain, for efficient help.
For the Mansfelds and other leading personages in the obedient
Netherlands were mainly occupied at that time in annoying Farnese,
calumniating his actions, laying obstacles in the way of his
administration, military and civil, and bringing him into contempt with
the populace. When the weary soldier--broken in health, wounded and
harassed with obtaining triumphs for his master such as no other living
man could have gained with the means placed at his disposal--returned
to drink the waters, previously to setting forth anew upon the task of
achieving the impossible, he was made the mark of petty insults on the
part of both the Mansfelds. Neither of them paid their respects to him;
ill as he was, until four days after his arrival. When the duke
subsequently called a council; Count Peter refused to attend it on
account of having slept ill the night before. Champagny; who was one of,
the chief mischief-makers, had been banished by Parma to his house in
Burgundy. He became very much alarmed, and was afraid of losing his
head. He tried to conciliate the duke, but finding it difficult he
resolved to turn monk, and so went to the convent of Capuchins, and
begged hard to be admitted a member. They refused him on account of his
age and infirmities. He tried a Franciscan monastery with not much
better success, and then obeyed orders and went to his Burgundy mansion;
having been assured by Farnese that he was not to lose his head.
Alexander was satisfied with that arrangement, feeling sure, he said,
that so soon as his back was turned Champagny would come out of his
convent before the term of probation had expired, and begin to make
mischief again. A once valiant soldier, like Champagny, whose conduct in
the famous "fury of Antwerp" was so memorable; and whose services both in
field and-cabinet had, been so distinguished, fallen so low as to, be
used as a tool by the Mansfelds against a man like Farnese; and to be
rejected as unfit company by Flemish friars, is not a cheerful spectacle
to contemplate.
The walls of the Mansfeld house and gardens, too, were decorated by Count
Charles with caricatures, intending to illustrate the indignities put
upon his father: and himself.
Among others, one picture represented Count Peter lying tied hand and
foot, while people were throwing filth upon him; Count Charles being
pourtrayed as meantime being kicked away from the command of a battery
of cannon by, De la Motte. It seemed strange that the Mansfelds should,
make themselves thus elaborately ridiculous, in order to irritate
Farnese; but thus it was. There was so much stir, about these works of
art that Alexander transmitted copies of them to the king, whereupon
Charles Mansfeld, being somewhat alarmed, endeavoured to prove that they
had been entirely misunderstood. The venerable personage lying on the
ground, he explained, was not his father, but Socrates. He found it
difficult however to account for the appearance of La Motte, with his one
arm wanting and with artillery by his side, because, as Farnese justly
remarked, artillery had not been invented in the time of Socrates, nor
was it recorded that the sage had lost an arm.
Thus passed the autumn of 1592, and Alexander, having as he supposed
somewhat recruited his failing strength, prepared, according to his
master's orders for a new campaign in France. For with almost
preterhuman malice Philip was employing the man whom he had doomed to
disgrace, perhaps to death, and whom he kept under constant secret
supervision, in those laborious efforts to conquer without an army and
to purchase a kingdom with an empty purse, in which, as it was destined,
the very last sands of Parma's life were to run away.
Suffering from a badly healed wound, from water on the chest,
degeneration of the heart, and gout in the limbs, dropsical, enfeebled,
broken down into an old man before his time, Alexander still confronted
disease and death with as heroic a front as he had ever manifested in the
field to embattled Hollanders and Englishmen, or to the still more
formidable array of learned pedants and diplomatists in the hall of
negotiation. This wreck of a man was still fitter to lead armies and
guide councils than any soldier or statesman that Philip could call into
his service, yet the king's cruel hand was ready to stab the dying man in
the dark.
Nothing could surpass the spirit with which the soldier was ready to do
battle with his best friend, coming in the guise of an enemy. To the
last moment, lifted into the saddle, he attended personally as usual to
the details of his new campaign, and was dead before he would confess
himself mortal. On the 3rd of December, 1592, in the city of Arran, he
fainted after retiring at his usual hour to bed, and thus breathed his
last.
According to the instructions in his last will, he was laid out barefoot
in the robe and cowl of a Capuchin monk. Subsequently his remains were
taken to Parma, and buried under the pavement of the little Franciscan
church. A pompous funeral, in which the Italians and Spaniards
quarrelled and came to blows for precedence, was celebrated in Brussels,
and a statue of the hero was erected in the capitol at Rome.
The first soldier and most unscrupulous diplomatist of his age, he died
when scarcely past his prime, a wearied; broken-hearted old man. His
triumphs, military and civil, have been recorded in these pages, and his
character has been elaborately pourtrayed. Were it possible to conceive
of an Italian or Spaniard of illustrious birth in the sixteenth century,
educated in the school of Machiavelli, at the feet of Philip, as anything
but the supple slave of a master and the blind instrument of a Church,
one might for a moment regret that so many gifts of genius and valour had
been thrown away or at least lost to mankind. Could the light of truth
ever pierce the atmosphere in which such men have their being; could the
sad music of humanity ever penetrate to their ears; could visions of a
world--on this earth or beyond it--not exclusively the property of kings
and high-priests be revealed to them, one might lament that one so
eminent among the sons of women had not been a great man. But it is a
weakness to hanker for any possible connection between truth and Italian
or Spanish statecraft of that day. The truth was not in it nor in him,
and high above his heroic achievements, his fortitude, his sagacity, his
chivalrous self-sacrifice, shines forth the baleful light of his
perpetual falsehood.
Unfortunately, I have been unable to find any "modern" biographies of him and have had to make do with an old one (written in the nineteenth century and not really a biography, it just features him prominently).
From John Lothrop Morley's History of United Netherlands, 1592-1594--courtesy of Project Gutenberg, which provides e-copies of books with expired copyrights totally free-of-charge.
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Title: History of the United Netherlands, 1592-94
Author: John Lothrop Motley
Release Date: January, 2004 [EBook #4865]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on April 9, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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CHAPTER XXVIII.
An extract on how the duke's reputation was blackened in the eyes of Philip II of Spain, his master:
For the king was quite determined--in case his efforts to obtain the
crown for himself or for his daughter were unsuccessful--to dismember
France, with the assistance of those eminent Frenchmen who were now so
industriously aiding him in his projects.
"And in the third place," said he, in his secret instructions to Feria,
"if for the sins of all, we don't manage to make any election, and if
therefore the kingdom (of France) has to come to separation and to be
divided into many hands; in this case we must propose to the Duke of
Mayenne to assist him in getting possession of Normandy for himself, and
as to the rest of the kingdom, I shall take for myself that which seems
good to me--all of us assisting each other."
But unfortunately it was difficult for any of these fellow-labourers to
assist each other very thoroughly, while they detested each other so
cordially and suspected each other with such good reason.
Moreo, Ybarra, Feria, Parma, all assured their master that Mayenne was
taking Spanish money as fast as he could get it, but with the sole
purpose of making himself king. As to any of the House of Lorraine
obtaining the hand of the Infanta and the throne with it, Feria assured
Philip that Mayenne "would sooner give the crown to the Grand Turk."
Nevertheless Philip thought it necessary to continue making use of the
duke. Both were indefatigable therefore in expressing feelings of
boundless confidence each in the other.
It has been seen too how entirely the king relied on the genius and
devotion of Alexander Farnese to carry out his great schemes; and
certainly never had monarch a more faithful, unscrupulous, and dexterous
servant. Remonstrating, advising, but still obeying--entirely without
conscience, unless it were conscience to carry out his master's commands,
even when most puerile or most diabolical--he was nevertheless the object
of Philip's constant suspicion, and felt himself placed under perpetual
though secret supervision.
Commander Moreo was unwearied in blackening the duke's character, and in
maligning his every motive and action, and greedily did the king incline
his ear to the calumnies steadily instilled by the chivalrous spy.
"He has caused all the evil we are suffering," said Moreo. "When he sent
Egmont to France 'twas without infantry, although Egmont begged hard for
it, as did likewise the Legate, Don Bernardino, and Tassis. Had he done
this there is no doubt at all that the Catholic cause in France would
have been safe, and your Majesty would now have the control over that
kingdom which you desire. This is the opinion of friends and foes. I
went to the Duke of Parma and made free to tell him that the whole world
would blame him for the damage done to Christianity, since your Majesty
had exonerated yourself by ordering him to go to the assistance of the
French Catholics with all the zeal possible. Upon this he was so
disgusted that he has never shown me a civil face since. I doubt whether
he will send or go to France at all, and although the Duke of Mayenne
despatches couriers every day with protestations and words that would
soften rocks, I see no indications of a movement."
Thus, while the duke was making great military preparations far invading
France without means; pawning his own property to get bread for his
starving veterans, and hanging those veterans whom starving had made.
mutinous, he was depicted, to the most suspicious and unforgiving mortal
that ever wore a crown, as a traitor and a rebel, and this while he was
renouncing his own judicious and well-considered policy in obedience to
the wild schemes of his master.
"I must make bold to remind your Majesty," again whispered the spy, "that
there never was an Italian prince who failed to pursue his own ends, and
that there are few in the world that are not wishing to become greater
than they are. This man here could strike a greater blow than all the
rest of them put together. Remember that there is not a villain anywhere
that does not desire the death of your Majesty. Believe me, and send to
cut off my head if it shall be found that I am speaking from passion, or
from other motive than pure zeal for your royal service."
The reader will remember into what a paroxysm of rage Alexander was
thrown on, a former occasion, when secretly invited to listen to
propositions by which the sovereignty over the Netherlands was to be
secured to himself, and how near he was to inflicting mortal punishment
with his own hand on the man who had ventured to broach that treasonable
matter.
Such projects and propositions were ever floating, as it were, in the
atmosphere, and it was impossible for the most just men to escape
suspicion in the mind of a king who fed upon suspicion as his daily
bread. Yet nothing could be fouler or falser than the calumny which
described Alexander as unfaithful to Philip. Had he served his God as he
served his master perhaps his record before the highest tribunal would
have been a clearer one.
And in the same vein in which he wrote to the monarch in person did the
crafty Moreo write to the principal secretary of state, Idiaquez, whose
mind, as well as his master's, it was useful to poison, and who was in
daily communication with Philip.
"Let us make sure of Flanders," said he, "otherwise we shall all of us be
well cheated. I will tell you something of that which I have already
told his Majesty, only not all, referring you to Tassis, who, as a
personal witness to many things, will have it in his power to undeceive
his Majesty, I have seen very clearly that the duke is disgusted with his
Majesty, and one day he told me that he cared not if the whole world went
to destruction, only not Flanders."
"Another day he told me that there was a report abroad that his Majesty
was sending to arrest him, by means of the Duke of Pastrana, and looking
at me he said: 'See here, seignior commander, no threats, as if it were
in the power of mortal man to arrest me, much less of such fellows as
these.'"
"But this is but a small part of what I could say," continued the
detective knight-commander, "for I don't like to trust these ciphers.
But be certain that nobody in Flanders wishes well to these estates or to
the Catholic cause, and the associates of the Duke of Parma go about
saying that it does not suit the Italian potentates to have his Majesty
as great a monarch as he is trying to be."
This is but a sample of the dangerous stuff with which the royal mind was
steadily drugged, day after day, by those to whom Farnese was especially
enjoined to give his confidence.
Later on it will be seen how-much effect was thus produced both upon the
king and upon the duke. Moreo, Mendoza, and Tasais were placed about the
governor-general, nominally as his counsellors, in reality as police-
officers.
"You are to confer regularly with Mendoza, Tassis, and Moreo," said
Philip to Farnese.
"You are to assist, correspond, and harmonize in every way with the Duke
of Parma," wrote Philip to Mendoza, Tassis, and Moreo. And thus cordially
and harmoniously were the trio assisting and corresponding with the duke.
But Moreo was right in not wishing to trust the ciphers, and indeed he
had trusted them too much, for Farnese was very well aware of his
intrigues, and complained bitterly of them to the king and to Idiaquez.
Most eloquently and indignantly did he complain of the calumnies, ever
renewing themselves, of which he was the subject. "'Tis this good Moreo
who is the author of the last falsehoods," said he to the secretary; "and
this is but poor payment for my having neglected my family, my parents
and children for so many years in the king's service, and put my life
ever on the hazard, that these fellows should be allowed to revile me
and make game of me now, instead of assisting me."
He was at that time, after almost superhuman exertions, engaged in the
famous relief of Paris. He had gone there, he said, against his judgment
and remonstrating with his Majesty on the insufficiency of men and money
for such an enterprise. His army was half-mutinous and unprovided with
food, artillery, or munitions; and then he found himself slandered,
ridiculed, his life's life lied away. 'Twas poor payment for his
services, he exclaimed, if his Majesty should give ear to these
calumniators, and should give him no chance of confronting his accusers
and clearing his reputation. Moreo detested him, as he knew, and Prince
Doria said that the commander once spoke so ill of Farnese in Genoa that
he was on the point of beating him; while Moreo afterwards told the story
as if he had been maltreated because of defending Farnese against Doria's
slanders.
And still more vehemently did he inveigh against Moreo in his direct
appeals to Philip. He had intended to pass over his calumnies, of which
he was well aware, because he did not care to trouble the dead--for Moreo
meantime had suddenly died, and the gossips, of course, said it was of
Farnese poison--but he had just discovered by documents that the
commander had been steadily and constantly pouring these his calumnies
into the monarch's ears. He denounced every charge as lies, and demanded
proof. Moreo had further been endeavouring to prejudice the Duke of
Mayenne against the King of Spain and himself, saying that he, Farnese,
had been commissioned to take Mayenne into custody, with plenty of
similar lies.
"But what I most feel," said Alexander, with honest wrath, "is to see
that your Majesty gives ear to them without making the demonstration
which my services merit, and has not sent to inform me of them, seeing
that they may involve my reputation and honour. People have made more
account of these calumnies than of my actions performed upon the theatre
of the world. I complain, after all my toils and dangers in your
Majesty's service, just when I stood with my soul in my mouth and death
in my teeth, forgetting children, house, and friends, to be treated thus,
instead of receiving rewards and honour, and being enabled to leave to my
children, what was better than all the riches the royal hand could
bestow, an unsullied and honourable name."
He protested that his reputation had so much suffered that he would
prefer to retire to some remote corner as a humble servant of the king,
and leave a post which had made him so odious to all. Above all, he
entreated his Majesty to look upon this whole affair "not only like a
king but like a gentleman."
Philip answered these complaints and reproaches benignantly, expressed
unbounded confidence in the duke, assured him that the calumnies of his
supposed enemies could produce no effect upon the royal mind, and coolly
professed to have entirely forgotten having received any such letter as
that of which his nephew complained. "At any rate I have mislaid it," he
said, "so that you see how much account it was with me."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Approaching the end:
During the first French expedition-in the course of which Farnese had
saved Paris from falling into, the hands of Henry, and had been doing his
best to convert it prospectively into the capital of his master's empire-
-it was his duty, of course, to represent as accurately as possible the
true state of France. He submitted his actions to his master's will, but
he never withheld from him the advantage that he might have derived, had
he so chosen, from his nephew's luminous intelligence and patient
observation.
With the chief personage he had to deal with he professed himself, at
first, well satisfied. "The Duke of Mayenne," said he to Philip,
"persists in desiring your Majesty only as King of France, and will hear
of no other candidate, which gives me satisfaction such as can't be
exaggerated." Although there were difficulties in the way, Farnese
thought that the two together with God's help might conquer them.
"Certainly it is not impossible that your Majesty may succeed," he said,
"although very problematical; and in case your Majesty does succeed in
that which we all desire and are struggling for, Mayenne not only demands
the second place in the kingdom for himself, but the fief of some great
province for his family."
Should it not be possible for Philip to obtain the crown, Farnese was,
on the whole, of opinion that Mayenne had better be elected. In that
event he would make over Brittany and Burgundy to Philip, together with
the cities opposite the English coast. If they were obliged to make the
duke king, as was to be feared, they should at any rate exclude the
Prince of Bearne, and secure, what was the chief point, the Catholic
religion. "This," said Alexander, "is about what I can gather of
Mayenne's views, and perhaps he will put them down in a despatch to your
Majesty."
After all, the duke was explicit enough. He was for taking all he could
get--the whole kingdom if possible--but if foiled, then as large a slice
of it as Philip would give him as the price of his services. And
Philip's ideas were not materially different from those of the other
conspirator.
Both were agreed on one thing. The true heir must be kept out of his
rights, and the Catholic religion be maintained in its purity. As to the
inclination of the majority of the inhabitants, they could hardly be in
the dark. They knew that the Bearnese was instinctively demanded by the
nation; for his accession to the throne would furnish the only possible
solution to the entanglements which had so long existed.
As to the true sentiments of the other politicians and soldiers of the
League with whom Bearnese came in contact in France, he did not disguise
from his master that they were anything but favourable.
"That you may know, the, humour of this kingdom," said he, "and the
difficulties in which I am placed, I must tell you that I am by large
experience much confirmed in that which I have always suspected. Men
don't love nor esteem the royal name of your Majesty, and whatever the
benefits and assistance they get from you they have no idea of anything
redounding to your benefit and royal service, except so far as implied in
maintaining the Catholic religion and keeping out the Bearne. These two
things, however, they hold to be so entirely to your Majesty's profit,
that all you are doing appears the fulfilment of a simple obligation.
They are filled with fear, jealousy, and suspicion of your Majesty. They
dread your acquiring power here. Whatever negotiations they pretend
in regard to putting the kingdom or any of their cities under your
protection, they have never had any real intention of doing it, but their
only object is to keep up our vain hopes while they are carrying out
their own ends. If to-day they seem to have agreed upon any measure,
tomorrow they are sure to get out of it again. This has always been the
case, and all your Majesty's ministers that have had dealings here would
say so, if they chose to tell the truth. Men are disgusted with the
entrance of the army, and if they were not expecting a more advantageous
peace in the kingdom with my assistance than without it, I don't know
what they would do; for I have heard what I have heard and seen what I
have seen. They are afraid of our army, but they want its assistance and
our money."
Certainly if Philip desired enlightenment as to the real condition of the
country he had determined to, appropriate; and the true sentiments of its
most influential inhabitants, here, was the man most competent of all the
world to advise him; describing the situation for him, day by day, in the
most faithful manner. And at every, step the absolutely puerile
inadequacy of the means, employed by the king to accomplish his gigantic
purposes became apparent. If the crime of subjugating or at least
dismembering the great kingdom of France were to, be attempted with any
hope of success, at least it might have been expected that the man
employed to consummate the deed would be furnished with more troops and
money than would be required to appropriate a savage island off the
Caribbean, or a German. principality. But Philip expected miracles to
be accomplished by the mere private assertion of his will. It was so
easy to conquer realms the writing table.
"I don't say," continued Farnese, "if I could have entered France with a
competent army, well paid and disciplined, with plenty of artillery, and
munitions, and with funds enough to enable Mayenne to buy up the nobles
of his party, and to conciliate the leaders generally with presents and
promises, that perhaps they might not have softened. Perhaps interest
and fear would have made that name agreeable which pleases them so
little, now that the very reverse of all this has occurred. My want of
means is causing a thousand disgusts among the natives of the country,
and it is this penury that will be the chief cause of the disasters which
may occur."
Here was sufficiently plain speaking. To conquer a war-like nation
without an army; to purchase a rapacious nobility with an empty purse,
were tasks which might break the stoutest heart. They were breaking
Alexander's.
Yet Philip had funds enough, if he had possessed financial ability
himself, or any talent for selecting good financiers. The richest
countries of the old world and the new were under his sceptre; the mines
of Peru and Mexico; the wealth of farthest Ind, were at his disposition;
and moreover he drove a lucrative traffic in the sale of papal bulls and
massbooks, which were furnished to him at a very low figure, and which he
compelled the wild Indians of America and the savages of the Pacific to
purchase of him at an enormous advance. That very year, a Spanish
carrack had been captured by the English off the Barbary coast, with an
assorted cargo, the miscellaneous nature of which gives an idea of royal
commercial pursuits at that period. Besides wine in large quantities
there were fourteen hundred chests of quicksilver, an article
indispensable to the working of the silver mines, and which no one but
the king could, upon pain of death, send to America. He received,
according to contract; for every pound of quicksilver thus delivered a
pound of pure silver, weight for weight. The ship likewise contained ten
cases of gilded mass-books and papal bulls. The bulls, two million and
seventy thousand in number, for the dead and the living, were intended
for the provinces of New Spain, Yucatan, Guatemala, Honduras, and the
Philippines. The quicksilver and the bulls cost the king three hundred
thousand florins, but he sold them for five million. The .price at,
which the bulls were to be sold varied-according to the letters of advice
found in the ships--from two to four reals a piece, and the inhabitants
of those conquered regions were obliged to buy them. "From all this,"
says a contemporary chronicler; "is to be seen what a thrifty trader was
the king."
The affairs of France were in such confusion that it was impossible for
them, according to Farnese, to remain in such condition much longer
without bringing about entire decomposition. Every man was doing as he
chose--whether governor of a city, commander of a district, or gentleman
in his castle. Many important nobles and prelates followed the Bearnese
party, and Mayenne was entitled to credit for doing as well as he did.
There was no pretence, however, that his creditable conduct was due to
anything but the hope of being well paid. "If your Majesty should decide
to keep Mayenne," said Alexander, "you can only do it with large: sums of
money. He is a good Catholic and very firm in his purpose, but is so
much opposed by his own party, that if I had not so stimulated him by
hopes of his own grandeur, he would have grown desperate--such small
means has he of maintaining his party--and, it is to be feared, he would
have made arrangements with Bearne, who offers him carte-blanche."
The disinterested man had expressed his assent to the views of Philip in
regard to the assembly of the estates and the election of king, but had
claimed the sum of six hundred thousand dollars as absolutely necessary
to the support of himself and followers until those events should occur.
Alexander not having that sum at his disposal was inclined to defer
matters, but was more and more confirmed in his opinion that the Duke was
a "man of truth, faith, and his word." He had distinctly agreed that no
king should be elected, not satisfactory to Philip, and had "stipulated
in return that he should have in this case, not only the second place in
the kingdom, but some very great and special reward in full property."
Thus the man of truth, faith, and his word had no idea of selling himself
cheap, but manifested as much commercial genius as the Fuggers themselves
could have displayed, had they been employed as brokers in these
mercantile transactions.
Above all things, Alexander implored the king to be expeditious,
resolute, and liberal; for, after all, the Bearnese might prove a more
formidable competitor than he was deemed. "These matters must be
arranged while the iron is hot," he said, "in order that the name and
memory of the Bearne and of all his family may be excluded at once and
forever; for your Majesty must not doubt that the whole kingdom inclines
to him, both because he is natural successor, to the crowns and because
in this way the civil war would cease. The only thing that gives trouble
is the religions defect, so that if this should be remedied in
appearance, even if falsely, men would spare no pains nor expense in his
cause."
No human being at that moment, assuredly, could look into the immediate
future accurately enough to see whether the name and memory of the man,
whom his adherents called Henry the Fourth of France, and whom Spaniards,
legitimists and enthusiastic papists, called the Prince of Bearne, were
to be for ever excluded from the archives of France; whether Henry, after
spending the whole of his life as a pretender, was destined to bequeath
the same empty part to his descendants, should they think it worth their
while to play it. Meantime the sages smiled superior at his delusion;
while Alexander Farnese, on the contrary, better understanding the
chances of the great game which they were all playing, made bold to tell
his master that all hearts in France were inclining to their natural
lord. "Differing from your Majesty," said he, "I am of opinion that
there is no better means of excluding him than to make choice of the Duke
of Mayenne, as a person agreeable to the people, and who could only reign
by your permission and support."
Thus, after much hesitation and circumlocution, the nephew made up his
mind to chill his uncle's hopes of the crown, and to speak a decided
opinion in behalf of the man of his word, faith and truth.
And thus through the whole of the two memorable campaigns made by
Alexander in France, he never failed to give his master the most accurate
pictures of the country, and an interior view of its politics; urging
above all the absolute necessity of providing much more liberal supplies
for the colossal adventure in which he was engaged. "Money and again
money is what is required," he said. "The principal matter is to be
accomplished with money, and the particular individuals must be bought
with money. The good will of every French city must be bought with
money. Mayenne must be humoured. He is getting dissatisfied. Very
probably he is intriguing with Bearne. Everybody is pursuing his private
ends. Mayenne has never abandoned his own wish to be king, although he
sees the difficulties in the way; and while he has not the power to do us
as much good as is thought, it is certainly in his hands to do us a great
deal of injury."
When his army was rapidly diminishing by disease, desertion, mutiny, and
death, he vehemently and perpetually denounced the utter inadequacy of
the king's means to his vast projects. He protested that he was not to
blame for the ruin likely to come upon the whole enterprise. He had
besought, remonstrated, reasoned with Philip--in vain. He assured his
master that in the condition of weakness in which they found themselves,
not very triumphant negotiations could be expected, but that he would do
his best. "The Frenchmen," he said, "are getting tired of our disorders,
and scandalized by our weakness, misery, and poverty. They disbelieve
the possibility of being liberated through us."
He was also most diligent in setting before the king's eyes the dangerous
condition of the obedient Netherlands, the poverty of the finances, the
mutinous degeneration of the once magnificent Spanish army, the misery of
the country, the ruin of the people, the discontent of the nobles, the
rapid strides made by the republic, the vast improvement in its military
organization, the rising fame of its young stadholder, the thrift of its
exchequer, the rapid development of its commerce, the menacing aspect
which it assumed towards all that was left of Spanish power in those
regions.
Moreover, in the midst of the toils and anxieties of war-making and
negotiation, he had found time to discover and to send to his master
the left leg of the glorious apostle St. Philip, and the head of the
glorious martyr St. Lawrence, to enrich his collection of relics; and it
may be doubted whether these treasures were not as welcome to the king as
would have been the news of a decisive victory.
During the absence of Farnese in his expeditions against the Bearnese,
the government of his provinces was temporarily in the hands of Peter
Ernest Mansfeld.
This grizzled old fighter--testy, choleric, superannuated--was utterly
incompetent for his post. He was a mere tool in the hands of his son.
Count Charles hated Parma very cordially, and old Count Peter was made
to believe himself in danger of being poisoned or poniarded by the duke.
He was perpetually wrangling with, importuning and insulting him in
consequence, and writing malicious letters to the king in regard to him.
The great nobles, Arschot, Chimay, Berlaymont, Champagny, Arenberg, and
the rest, were all bickering among themselves, and agreeing in nothing
save in hatred to Farnese.
A tight rein, a full exchequer, a well-ordered and well-paid army, and
his own constant patience, were necessary, as Alexander too well knew,
to make head against the republic, and to hold what was left of the
Netherlands. But with a monthly allowance, and a military force not
equal to his own estimates for the Netherland work, he was ordered to go
forth from the Netherlands to conquer France--and with it the dominion of
the world--for the recluse of the Escorial.
Very soon it was his duty to lay bare to his master, still more
unequivocally than ever, the real heart of Mayenne. No one could surpass
Alexander in this skilful vivisection of political characters; and he
soon sent the information that the Duke was in reality very near closing
his bargain with the Bearnese, while amusing Philip and drawing largely
from his funds.
Thus, while faithfully doing his master's work with sword and pen, with
an adroitness such as no other man could have matched, it was a necessary
consequence that Philip should suspect, should detest, should resolve to
sacrifice him. While assuring his nephew, as we have seen, that
elaborate, slanderous reports and protocols concerning him, sent with
such regularity by the chivalrous Moreo and the other spies, had been
totally disregarded, even if they had ever met his eye, he was quietly
preparing--in the midst of all these most strenuous efforts of Alexander,
in the field at peril of his life, in the cabinet at the risk of his
soul--to deprive him of his office, and to bring him, by stratagem if
possible, but otherwise by main force, from the Netherlands to Spain.
This project, once-resolved upon, the king proceeded to execute with
that elaborate attention to detail, with that feline stealth which
distinguished him above all kings or chiefs of police that have ever
existed. Had there been a murder at the end of the plot, as perhaps
there was to be--Philip could not have enjoyed himself more. Nothing
surpassed the industry for mischief of this royal invalid.
The first thing to be done was of course the inditing of a most
affectionate epistle to his nephew.
"Nephew," said he, "you know the confidence which I have always placed in
you and all that I have put in your hands, and I know how much you are to
me, and how earnestly you work in my service, and so, if I could have you
at the same time in several places, it would be a great relief to me.
Since this cannot be however, I wish to make use of your assistance,
according to the times and occasions, in order that I may have some
certainty as to the manner in which all this business is to be managed,
may see why the settlement of affairs in France is thus delayed, and what
the state of things in Christendom generally is, and may consult with,
you about an army which I am getting levied here, and about certain
schemes now on foot in regard to the remedy for all this; all which makes
me desire your presence here for some time, even if a short time, in
order to resolve upon and arrange with the aid of your advice and
opinion, many affairs concerning the public good and facilitate their
execution by means of your encouragement and presence, and to obtain the
repose which I hope for in putting them into your hands. And so I charge
and command you that, if you desire to content me, you use all possible
diligence to let me see you here as soon as possible, and that you start
at once for Genoa."
He was further directed to leave Count Mansfeld at the head of affairs
during this temporary absence, as had been the case so often before,
instructing him to make use of the Marquis of Cerralbo, who was already
there, to lighten labours that might prove too much for a man of
Mansfeld's advanced age.
"I am writing to the marquis," continued the king, "telling him that he
is to obey all your orders. As to the reasons of your going away, you
will give out that it is a decision of your own, founded on good cause,
or that it is a summons of mine, but full of confidence and good will
towards you, as you see that it is."
The date of this letter was 20th February, 1592.
The secret instructions to the man who was thus to obey all the duke's
orders were explicit enough upon that point, although they were wrapped
in the usual closely-twisted phraseology which distinguished Philip's
style when his purpose was most direct.
Cerralbo was entrusted with general directions as to the French matter,
and as to peace negotiations with "the Islands;" but the main purport of
his mission was to remove Alexander Farnese. This was to be done by fair
means, if possible; if not, he was to be deposed and sent home by force.
This was to be the reward of all the toil and danger through which he had
grown grey and broken in the king's service.
"When you get to the Netherlands" (for the instructions were older than
the letter to Alexander just cited), "you are," said the king, "to treat
of the other two matters until the exact time arrives for the third,
taking good care not to, cut the thread of good progress in the affairs
of France if by chance they are going on well there.
"When the time arrives to treat of commission number three," continued
his Majesty, "you will take occasion of the arrival of the courier of
20th February, and will give with much secrecy the letter of that date to
the duke; showing him at the same time the first of the two which you
will have received."
If the duke showed the letter addressed to him by his uncle--which the
reader has already seen--then the marquis was to discuss with him the
details of the journey, and comment upon the benefits and increased
reputation which would be the result of his return to Spain.
"But if the duke should not show you the letter," proceeded Philip, "and
you suspect that he means to conceal and equivocate about the particulars
of it, you can show him your letter number two, in which it is stated
that you have received a copy of the letter to the duke. This will make
the step easier."
Should the duke declare himself ready to proceed to Spain on the ground
indicated--that the king had need of his services--the marquis was then
to hasten his departure as earnestly as possible. Every pains were to be
taken to overcome any objections that might be made by the duke on the
score of ill health, while the great credit which attached to this
summons to consult with the king in such arduous affairs was to be duly
enlarged upon. Should Count Mansfeld meantime die of old age, and should
Farnese insist the more vehemently, on that account, upon leaving his son
the Prince Ranuccio in his post as governor, the marquis was authorised
to accept the proposition for the moment--although secretly instructed
that such an appointment was really quite out of the question--if by so
doing the father could be torn from the place immediately.
But if all would not do, and if it should become certain that the duke
would definitively refuse to take his departure, it would then become
necessary to tell him clearly, but secretly, that no excuse would be
accepted, but that go he must; and that if he did not depart voluntarily
within a fixed time, he would be publicly deprived of office and
conducted to Spain by force.
But all these things were to be managed with the secrecy and mystery so
dear to the heart of Philip. The marquis was instructed to go first to
the castle of Antwerp, as if upon financial business, and there begin his
operations. Should he find at last all his private negotiations and
coaxings of no avail, he was then to make use of his secret letters from
the king to the army commanders, the leading nobles of the country, and
of the neighbouring princes, all of whom were to be undeceived in regard
to the duke, and to be informed of the will of his majesty.
The real successor of Farnese was to be the Archduke Albert, Cardinal of
Austria, son of Archduke Ferdinand, and the letters on this subject were
to be sent by a "decent and confidential person" so soon as it should
become obvious that force would be necessary in order to compel the
departure of Alexander. For if it came to open rupture, it would be
necessary to have the cardinal ready to take the place. If the affair
were arranged amicably, then the new governor might proceed more at
leisure. The marquis was especially enjoined, in case the duke should be
in France, and even if it should be necessary for him to follow him there
on account of commissions number one and two, not to say a word to him
then of his recall, for fear of damaging matters in that kingdom. He was
to do his best to induce him to return to Flanders, and when they were
both there, he was to begin his operations.
Thus, with minute and artistic treachery, did Philip provide for the
disgrace and ruin of the man who was his near blood relation, and who had
served him most faithfully from earliest youth. It was not possible to
carry out the project immediately, for, as it has already been narrated,
Farnese, after achieving, in spite of great obstacles due to the dulness
of the king alone, an extraordinary triumph, had been dangerously
wounded, and was unable for a brief interval to attend to public affairs.
On the conclusion of his Rouen campaign he had returned to the
Netherlands, almost immediately betaking himself to the waters of Spa.
The Marquis de Cerralbo meanwhile had been superseded in his important
secret mission by the Count of Fuentes, who received the same
instructions as had been provided for the marquis.
But ere long it seemed to become unnecessary to push matters to
extremities. Farnese, although nominally the governor, felt himself
unequal to take the field against the vigorous young commander who was
carrying everything before him in the north and east. Upon the Mansfelds
was the responsibility for saving Steenwyk and Coeworden, and to the
Mansfelds did Verdugo send piteously, but in vain, for efficient help.
For the Mansfelds and other leading personages in the obedient
Netherlands were mainly occupied at that time in annoying Farnese,
calumniating his actions, laying obstacles in the way of his
administration, military and civil, and bringing him into contempt with
the populace. When the weary soldier--broken in health, wounded and
harassed with obtaining triumphs for his master such as no other living
man could have gained with the means placed at his disposal--returned
to drink the waters, previously to setting forth anew upon the task of
achieving the impossible, he was made the mark of petty insults on the
part of both the Mansfelds. Neither of them paid their respects to him;
ill as he was, until four days after his arrival. When the duke
subsequently called a council; Count Peter refused to attend it on
account of having slept ill the night before. Champagny; who was one of,
the chief mischief-makers, had been banished by Parma to his house in
Burgundy. He became very much alarmed, and was afraid of losing his
head. He tried to conciliate the duke, but finding it difficult he
resolved to turn monk, and so went to the convent of Capuchins, and
begged hard to be admitted a member. They refused him on account of his
age and infirmities. He tried a Franciscan monastery with not much
better success, and then obeyed orders and went to his Burgundy mansion;
having been assured by Farnese that he was not to lose his head.
Alexander was satisfied with that arrangement, feeling sure, he said,
that so soon as his back was turned Champagny would come out of his
convent before the term of probation had expired, and begin to make
mischief again. A once valiant soldier, like Champagny, whose conduct in
the famous "fury of Antwerp" was so memorable; and whose services both in
field and-cabinet had, been so distinguished, fallen so low as to, be
used as a tool by the Mansfelds against a man like Farnese; and to be
rejected as unfit company by Flemish friars, is not a cheerful spectacle
to contemplate.
The walls of the Mansfeld house and gardens, too, were decorated by Count
Charles with caricatures, intending to illustrate the indignities put
upon his father: and himself.
Among others, one picture represented Count Peter lying tied hand and
foot, while people were throwing filth upon him; Count Charles being
pourtrayed as meantime being kicked away from the command of a battery
of cannon by, De la Motte. It seemed strange that the Mansfelds should,
make themselves thus elaborately ridiculous, in order to irritate
Farnese; but thus it was. There was so much stir, about these works of
art that Alexander transmitted copies of them to the king, whereupon
Charles Mansfeld, being somewhat alarmed, endeavoured to prove that they
had been entirely misunderstood. The venerable personage lying on the
ground, he explained, was not his father, but Socrates. He found it
difficult however to account for the appearance of La Motte, with his one
arm wanting and with artillery by his side, because, as Farnese justly
remarked, artillery had not been invented in the time of Socrates, nor
was it recorded that the sage had lost an arm.
Thus passed the autumn of 1592, and Alexander, having as he supposed
somewhat recruited his failing strength, prepared, according to his
master's orders for a new campaign in France. For with almost
preterhuman malice Philip was employing the man whom he had doomed to
disgrace, perhaps to death, and whom he kept under constant secret
supervision, in those laborious efforts to conquer without an army and
to purchase a kingdom with an empty purse, in which, as it was destined,
the very last sands of Parma's life were to run away.
Suffering from a badly healed wound, from water on the chest,
degeneration of the heart, and gout in the limbs, dropsical, enfeebled,
broken down into an old man before his time, Alexander still confronted
disease and death with as heroic a front as he had ever manifested in the
field to embattled Hollanders and Englishmen, or to the still more
formidable array of learned pedants and diplomatists in the hall of
negotiation. This wreck of a man was still fitter to lead armies and
guide councils than any soldier or statesman that Philip could call into
his service, yet the king's cruel hand was ready to stab the dying man in
the dark.
Nothing could surpass the spirit with which the soldier was ready to do
battle with his best friend, coming in the guise of an enemy. To the
last moment, lifted into the saddle, he attended personally as usual to
the details of his new campaign, and was dead before he would confess
himself mortal. On the 3rd of December, 1592, in the city of Arran, he
fainted after retiring at his usual hour to bed, and thus breathed his
last.
According to the instructions in his last will, he was laid out barefoot
in the robe and cowl of a Capuchin monk. Subsequently his remains were
taken to Parma, and buried under the pavement of the little Franciscan
church. A pompous funeral, in which the Italians and Spaniards
quarrelled and came to blows for precedence, was celebrated in Brussels,
and a statue of the hero was erected in the capitol at Rome.
The first soldier and most unscrupulous diplomatist of his age, he died
when scarcely past his prime, a wearied; broken-hearted old man. His
triumphs, military and civil, have been recorded in these pages, and his
character has been elaborately pourtrayed. Were it possible to conceive
of an Italian or Spaniard of illustrious birth in the sixteenth century,
educated in the school of Machiavelli, at the feet of Philip, as anything
but the supple slave of a master and the blind instrument of a Church,
one might for a moment regret that so many gifts of genius and valour had
been thrown away or at least lost to mankind. Could the light of truth
ever pierce the atmosphere in which such men have their being; could the
sad music of humanity ever penetrate to their ears; could visions of a
world--on this earth or beyond it--not exclusively the property of kings
and high-priests be revealed to them, one might lament that one so
eminent among the sons of women had not been a great man. But it is a
weakness to hanker for any possible connection between truth and Italian
or Spanish statecraft of that day. The truth was not in it nor in him,
and high above his heroic achievements, his fortitude, his sagacity, his
chivalrous self-sacrifice, shines forth the baleful light of his
perpetual falsehood.
posted by fairypenguin at 5:45 AM
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