Kitabı oku: «The Empire of Austria; Its Rise and Present Power», sayfa 11

CHAPTER XI.
DEATH OF FERDINAND I.—ACCESSION OF MAXIMILIAN II

From 1562 to 1576

The Council of Trent.—Spread of the Reformation.—Ferdinand's Attempt to Influence the Pope.—His Arguments against Celibacy.—Stubbornness of the Pope.—Maximilian II.—Displeasure of Ferdinand.—Motives for not Abjuring the Catholic Faith.—Religious Strife in Europe.—Maximilian's Address to Charles IX.—Mutual Toleration.—Romantic Pastime of War.—Heroism of Nicholas, Count Of Zrini.—Accession of Power to Austria.—Accession of Rhodolph III.—Death of Maximilian.

This celebrated council of Trent, which was called with the hope that by a spirit of concession and reform the religious dissensions which agitated Europe might be adjusted, declared, in the very bravado of papal intolerance, the very worst abuses of the Church to be essential articles of faith, which could only be renounced at the peril of eternal condemnation, and thus presented an insuperable barrier to any reconciliation between the Catholics and the Protestants. Ferdinand was disappointed, and yet did not venture to break with the pope by withholding his assent from the decrees which were enacted.

The Lutheran doctrines had spread widely through Ferdinand's hereditary States of Austria. Several of the professors in the university at Vienna had embraced those views; and quite a number of the most powerful and opulent of the territorial lords even maintained Protestant chaplains at their castles. The majority of the inhabitants of the Austrian States had, in the course of a few years, become Protestants. Though Ferdinand did every thing he dared to do to check their progress, forbidding the circulation of Luther's translation of the Bible, and throwing all the obstacles he could in the way of Protestant worship, he was compelled to grant them very considerable toleration, and to overlook the infraction of his decrees, that he might secure their aid to repel the Turks. Providence seemed to overrule the Moslem invasion for the protection of the Protestant faith. Notwithstanding all the efforts of Ferdinand, the reformers gained ground in Austria as in other parts of Germany.

The two articles upon which the Protestants at this time placed most stress were the right of the clergy to marry and the administration of the communion under both kinds, as it was called; that is, that the communicants should partake of both the bread and the wine. Ferdinand, having failed entirely in inducing the council to submit to any reform, opened direct communication with the pope to obtain for his subjects indulgence in respect to these two articles. In advocacy of this measure he wrote:

"In Bohemia no persuasion, no argument, no violence, not even arms and war, have succeeded in abolishing the use of the cup as well as the bread in the sacrament. In fact the Church itself permitted it, although the popes revoked it by a breach of the conditions on which it was granted. In the other States, Hungary, Austria, Silesia, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, Bavaria and other parts of Germany, many desire with ardor the same indulgence. If this concession is granted they may be reunited to the Church, but if refused they will be driven into the party of the Protestants. So many of the priests have been degraded by their diocesans for administering the sacrament in both kinds, that the country is almost deprived of priests. Hence children die or grow up to maturity without baptism; and men and women, of all ages and of all ranks, live like the brutes, in the grossest ignorance of God and of religion."

In reference to the marriage of the clergy he wrote: "If a permission to the clergy to marry can not be granted, may not married men of learning and probity be ordained, according to the custom of the eastern church; or married priests be tolerated for a time, provided they act according to the Catholic and Christian faith? And it may be justly asked whether such concessions would not be far preferable to tolerating, as has unfortunately been done, fornication and concubinage? I can not avoid adding, what is a common observation, that priests who live in concubinage are guilty of greater sin than those who are married; for the last only transgress a law which is capable of being changed, whereas the first sin against a divine law, which is capable of neither change nor dispensation."

The pope, pressed with all the importunity which Ferdinand could urge, reluctantly consented to the administration of the cup to the laity, but resolutely refused to tolerate the marriage of the clergy. Ferdinand was excessively annoyed by the stubbornness of the court of Rome in its refusal to submit to the most reasonable reform, thus rendering it impossible for him to allay the religious dissensions which were still spreading and increasing in acrimony. His disappointment was so great that it is said to have thrown him into the fever of which he died on the 25th of July, 1564.

For several ages the archdukes of Austria had been endeavoring to unite the Austrian States with Hungary and Bohemia under one monarchy. The union had been temporarily effected once or twice, but Ferdinand accomplished the permanent union, and may thus be considered as the founder of the Austrian monarchy essentially as it now exists. As Archduke of Austria, he inherited the Austrian duchies. By his marriage with Anne, daughter of Ladislaus, King of Hungary and Bohemia, he secured those crowns, which he made hereditary in his family. He left three sons. The eldest, Maximilian, inherited the archduchy of Austria and the crowns of Bohemia and Hungary, of course inheriting, with Hungary, prospective war with the Turks. The second son, Ferdinand, had, as his legacy, the government and the revenues of the Tyrol. The third son, Charles, received Styria. There were nine daughters left, three of whom took the vail and the rest formed illustrious marriages.

Ferdinand appears to have been a sincere Catholic, though he saw the great corruptions of the Church and earnestly desired reform. As he advanced in years he became more tolerant and gentle, and had his wise counsels been pursued Europe would have escaped inexpressible woes. Still he clung to the Church, unwisely seeking unity of faith and discipline, which can hardly be attained in this world, rather than toleration with allowed diversity.

Maximilian II. was thirty-seven years of age on his accession to the throne. Although he was educated in the court of Spain, which was the most bigoted and intolerant in Europe, yet he developed a character remarkable for mildness, affability and tolerance. He was indebted for these attractive traits to his tutor, a man of enlarged and cultivated mind, and who had, like most men of his character at that time, a strong leaning towards Protestantism. These principles took so firm a hold of his youthful mind that they could never be eradicated. As he advanced in life he became more and more interested in the Protestant faith. He received a clergyman of the reformed religion as his chaplain and private secretary, and partook of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, from his hands, in both kinds. Even while remaining in the Spanish court he entered into a correspondence with several of the most influential advocates of the Protestant faith. Returning to Austria from Spain, he attended public worship in the chapels of the Protestants, and communed with them in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. When some of his friends warned him that by pursuing such a course he could never hope to obtain the imperial crown of Germany, he replied:

"I will sacrifice all worldly interests for the sake of my salvation."

His father, the Emperor Ferdinand, was so much displeased with his son's advocacy of the Protestant faith, that after many angry remonstrances he threatened to disinherit him if he did not renounce all connection with the reformers. But Maximilian, true to his conscience, would not allow the apprehension of the loss of a crown to induce him to swerve from his faith. Fully expecting to be thus cast off and banished from the kingdom, he wrote to the Protestant elector Palatine:

"I have so deeply offended my father by maintaining a Lutheran preacher in my service, that I am apprehensive of being expelled as a fugitive, and hope to find an asylum in your court."

The Catholics of course looked with apprehension to the accession of Maximilian to the throne, while the Protestants anticipated the event with great hope. There were, however, many considerations of vast moment influencing Maximilian not to separate himself, in form, from the Catholic church. Philip, his cousin, King of Spain, was childless, and should he die without issue, Ferdinand would inherit that magnificent throne, which he could not hope to ascend, as an avowed Protestant, without a long and bloody war. It had been the most earnest dying injunction of his father that he should not abjure the Catholic faith. His wife was a very zealous Catholic, as was also each one of his brothers. There were very many who remained in the Catholic church whose sympathies were with the reformers—who hoped to promote reformation in the Church without leaving it. Influenced by such considerations, Maximilian made a public confession of the Catholic faith, received his father's confessor, and maintained, in his court, the usages of the papal church. He was, however, the kind friend of the Protestants, ever seeking to shield them from persecution, claiming for them a liberal toleration, and seeking, in all ways, to promote fraternal religious feeling throughout his domains.

The prudence of Maximilian wonderfully allayed the bitterness of religious strife in Germany, while other portions of Europe were desolated with the fiercest warfare between the Catholics and Protestants. In France, in particular, the conflict raged with merciless fury. It was on August 24th, 1572, but a few years after Maximilian ascended the throne, when the Catholics of France perpetrated the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, perhaps the most atrocious crime recorded in history. The Catholics and Protestants in France were nearly equally divided in numbers, wealth and rank. The papal party, finding it impossible to crush their foes by force of arms, resolved to exterminate them by a simultaneous massacre. They feigned toleration and reconciliation. The court of Paris invited all the leading Protestants of the kingdom to the metropolis to celebrate the nuptials of Henry, the young King of Navarre, with Margaret, sister of Charles IX., the reigning monarch. Secret orders were dispatched all over the kingdom, for the conspirators, secretly armed, at a given signal, by midnight, to rise upon the Protestants, men, women and children, and utterly exterminate them. "Let not one remain alive," said the King of France, "to tell the story."

The deed was nearly accomplished. The king himself, from a window of the Louvre, fired upon his Protestant subjects, as they fled in dismay through the streets. In a few hours eighty thousand of the Protestants were mangled corpses. Protestantism in France has never recovered from this blow. Maximilian openly expressed his execration of this deed, though the pope ordered Te Deums to be chanted at Rome in exultation over the crime. Not long after this horrible slaughter, Charles IX. died in mental torment. Henry of Valois, brother of the deceased king, succeeded to the throne. He was at that time King of Poland. Returning to France, through Vienna, he had an interview with Maximilian, who addressed him in those memorable words which have often been quoted to the honor of the Austrian sovereign:

"There is no crime greater in princes," said Maximilian, "than to tyrannize over the consciences of their subjects. By shedding the blood of heretics, far from honoring the common Father of all, they incur the divine vengeance; and while they aspire, by such means, to crowns in heaven, they justly expose themselves to the loss of their earthly kingdoms."

Under the peaceful and humane reign of Ferdinand, Germany was kept in a general state of tranquillity, while storms of war and woe were sweeping over almost all other parts of Europe. During all his reign, Maximilian II. was unwearied in his endeavors to promote harmony between the two great religious parties, by trying, on the one hand, to induce the pope to make reasonable concessions, and, on the other hand, to induce the Protestants to moderate their demands. His first great endeavor was to induce the pope to consent to the marriage of the clergy. In this he failed entirely. He then tried to form a basis of mutual agreement, upon which the two parties could unite. His father had attempted this plan, and found it utterly impracticable. Maximilian attempted it, with just as little success. It has been attempted a thousand times since, and has always failed. Good men are ever rising who mourn the divisions in the Christian Church, and strive to form some plan of union, where all true Christians can meet and fraternize, and forget their minor differences. Alas! for poor human nature, there is but little prospect that this plan can ever be accomplished. There will be always those who can not discriminate between essential and non-essential differences of opinion. Maximilian at last fell back simply upon the doctrine of a liberal toleration, and in maintaining this he was eminently successful.

At one time the Turks were crowding him very hard in Hungary. A special effort was requisite to raise troops to repel them. Maximilian summoned a diet, and appealed to the assembled nobles for supplies of men and money. In Austria proper, Protestantism was now in the decided ascendency. The nobles took advantage of the emperor's wants to reply—

"We are ready to march to the assistance of our sovereign, to repel the Turks from Hungary, if the Jesuits are first expelled from our territories."

The answer of the king was characteristic of his policy and of his career. "I have convened you," he said, "to give me contributions, not remonstrances. I wish you to help me expel the Turks, not the Jesuits."

From many a prince this reply would have excited exasperation. But Maximilian had established such a character for impartiality and probity, that the rebuke was received with applause rather than with murmurs, and the Protestants, with affectionate zeal, rallied around his standard. So great was the influence of the king, that toleration, as one of the virtues of the court, became the fashion, and the Catholics and Protestants vied with each other in the manifestation of mutual forbearance and good will. They met on equal terms in the palace of the monarch, shared alike in his confidence and his favors, and cooperated cordially in the festivities of the banqueting room, and in the toils of the camp. We love to dwell upon the first beautiful specimen of toleration which the world has seen in any court. It is the more beautiful, and the more wonderful, as having occurred in a dark age of bigotry, intolerance and persecution. And let us be sufficiently candid to confess, that it was professedly a Roman Catholic monarch, a member of the papal church, to whom the world is indebted for this first recognition of true mental freedom. It can not be denied that Maximilian II. was in advance of the avowed Protestants of his day.

Pope Pius V. was a bigot, inflexible, overbearing; and he determined, with a bloody hand, to crush all dissent. From his throne in the Vatican he cast an eagle eye to Germany, and was alarmed and indignant at the innovations which Maximilian was permitting. In all haste he dispatched a legate to remonstrate strongly against such liberality. Maximilian received the legate, Cardinal Commendon, with courtesy, but for a time firmly refused to change his policy in obedience to the exactions of the pope. The pope brought to bear upon him all the influence of the Spanish court. He was threatened with war by all the papal forces, sustained by the then immense power of the Spanish monarchy. For a time Maximilian was in great perplexity, and finally yielded to the pope so far as to promise not to permit any further innovations than those which he had already allowed, and not to extend his principles of toleration into any of his States where they had not as yet been introduced. Thus, while he did not retract any concessions he had made, he promised to stop where he was, and proceed no further.

Maximilian was so deeply impressed with the calamities of war, that he even sent an embassy to the Turks, offering to continue to pay the tribute which they had exacted of his father, as the price of a continued armistice. But Solyman, having made large preparations for the renewed invasion of Hungary, and sanguine of success, haughtily rejected the offer, and renewed hostilities.

Nearly all of the eastern and southern portions of Hungary were already in the hands of the Turks. Maximilian held a few important towns and strong fortresses on the western frontier. Not feeling strong enough to attempt to repel the Turks from the portion they already held, he strengthened his garrisons, and raising an army of eighty thousand men, of which he assumed the command, he entered Hungary and marched down the Danube about sixty miles to Raab, to await the foe and act on the defensive. Solyman rendezvoused an immense army at Belgrade, and commenced his march up the Danube.

"Old as I am," said he to his troops, "I am determined to chastise the house of Austria, or to perish in the attempt beneath the walls of Vienna."

It was beautiful spring weather, and the swelling buds and hourly increasing verdure, decorated the fields with loveliness. For several days the Turks marched along the right bank of the Danube, through green fields, and beneath a sunny sky, encountering no foe. War seemed but as the pastime of a festive day, as gay banners floated in the breeze, groups of horsemen, gorgeously caparisoned, pranced along, and the turbaned multitude, in brilliant uniform, with jokes, and laughter and songs, leisurely ascended the majestic stream. A fleet of boats filled the whole body of the river, impelled by sails when the wind favored, or, when the winds were adverse, driven by the strong arms of the rowers against the gentle tide. Each night the white tents were spread, and a city for a hundred thousand inhabitants rose as by magic, with its grassy streets, its squares, its busy population, its music, its splendor, blazing in all the regalia of war. As by magic the city rose in the rays of the declining sun. As by magic it disappeared in the early dawn of the morning, and the mighty hosts moved on.

A few days thus passed, when Solyman approached the fortified town of Zigeth, near the confluence of the Drave and the Danube. Nicholas, Count of Zrini, was intrusted with the defense of this place, and he fulfilled his trust with heroism and valor which has immortalized both his name and the fortress which he defended. Zrini had a garrison of but three thousand men. An army of nearly a hundred thousand were marching upon him. Zrini collected his troops, and took a solemn oath, in the presence of all, that, true to God, to his Christian faith, and his country, he never would surrender the town to the Turks, but with his life. He then required each soldier individually to take the same oath to his captain. All the captains then, in the presence of the assembled troops, took the same oath to him.

The Turks soon arrived and commenced an unceasing bombardment day and night. The little garrison vigorously responded. The besieged made frequent sallies, spiking the guns of the besiegers, and again retiring behind their works. But their overpowering foes advanced, inch by inch, till they got possession of what was called the "old city." The besieged retiring to the "new city," resumed the defense with unabated ardor. The storm of war raged incessantly for many days, and the new city was reduced to a smoldering heap of fire and ashes. The Turks, with incredible labor, raised immense mounds of earth and stone, on the summits of which they planted their batteries, where they could throw their shot, with unobstructed aim, into every part of the city. Roads were constructed across the marsh, and the swarming multitudes, in defiance of all the efforts of the heroic little garrison, filled up the ditch, and were just on the rush to take the place by a general assault, when Zrini abandoned the new city to flames, and threw himself into the citadel. His force was now reduced to about a thousand men. Day after day the storm of war blazed with demoniac fury around the citadel. Mines were dug, and, as by volcanic explosions, bastions, with men and guns, were blown high into the air. The indomitable Hungarians made many sallies, cutting down the gunners and spiking the guns, but they were always driven back with heavy loss. Repeated demands for capitulation were sent in and as repeatedly rejected. For a week seven assaults were made daily upon the citadel by the Turks, but they were always repulsed. At length the outer citadel was entirely demolished. Then the heroic band retired to the inner works. They were now without ammunition or provisions, and the Turks, exasperated by such a defense, were almost gnashing their teeth with rage. The old sultan, Solyman, actually died from the intensity of his vexation and wrath. The death of the sultan was concealed from the Turkish troops, and a general assault was arranged upon the inner works. The hour had now come when they must surrender or die, for the citadel was all battered into a pile of smoldering ruins, and there were no ramparts capable of checking the progress of the foe. Zrini assembled his little band, now counting but six hundred, and said,

"Remember your oath. We must die in the flames, or perish with hunger, or go forth to meet the foe. Let us die like men. Follow me, and do as I do."

They made a simultaneous rush from their defenses into the thickest of the enemy. For a few moments there was a scene of wildest uproar and confusion, and the brave defenders were all silent in death. The Turks with shouts of triumph now rushed into the citadel. But Zrini had fired trains leading to the subterranean vaults of powder, and when the ruins were covered with the conquerors, a sullen roar ran beneath the ground and the whole citadel, men, horses, rocks and artillery were thrown into the air, and fell a commingled mass of ruin, fire and blood. A more heroic defense history has not recorded. Twenty thousand Turks perished in this siege. The body of Zrini was found in the midst of the mangled dead. His head was cut off and, affixed to a pole, was raised as a trophy before the tent of the deceased sultan.

The death of Solyman, and the delay which this desperate siege had caused, embarrassed all the plans of the invaders, and they resolved upon a retreat. The troops were consequently withdrawn from Hungary, and returned to Constantinople.

Maximilian, behind his intrenchments at Raab, did not dare to march to the succor of the beleaguered garrison, for overpowering numbers would immediately have destroyed him had he appeared in the open field. But upon the withdrawal of the Turks he disbanded his army, after having replenished his garrisons, and returned to Vienna. Selim succeeded Solyman, and Maximilian sent an embassy to Constantinople to offer terms of peace. At the same time, to add weight to his negotiations, he collected a large army, and made the most vigorous preparations for the prosecution of the war.

Selim, just commencing his reign, anxious to consolidate his power, and embarrassed by insurrection in his own realms, was glad to conclude an armistice on terms highly favorable to Maximilian. John Sigismond, who had been crowned by the Turks, as their tributary King of Hungary, was to retain Transylvania. The Turks were to hold the country generally between Transylvania and the river Teiss, while Ferdinand was to have the remainder, extending many hundred miles from the Teiss to Austria. The Prince of Transylvania was compelled, though very reluctantly, to assent to this treaty. He engaged not to assume the title of King of Hungary, except in correspondence with the Turks. The emperor promised him one of his nieces in marriage, and in return it was agreed that should John Sigismond die without male issue, Transylvania should revert to the crown of Hungary.

Soon after this treaty, John Sigismond died, before his marriage with the emperor's niece, and Transylvania was again united to Hungary and came under the sway of Maximilian. This event formed quite an accession to the power of the Austrian monarch, as he now held all of Hungary save the southern and central portion where the Turks had garrisoned the fortresses. The pope, the King of Spain, and the Venetians, now sent united ambassadors to the emperor urging him to summon the armies of the empire and drive the Turks entirely out of Hungary. Cardinal Commendon assured the emperor, in the name of the holy father of the Church, that it was no sin to violate any compact with the infidel. Maximilian nobly replied,

"The faith of treaties ought to be considered as inviolable, and a Christian can never be justified in breaking an oath."

Maximilian never enjoyed vigorous health, and being anxious to secure the tranquillity of his extended realms after his death, he had his eldest son, Rhodolph, in a diet at Presburg, crowned King of Hungary. Rhodolph at once entered upon the government of his realm as viceroy during the life of his father. Thus he would have all the reins of government in his hands, and, at the death of the emperor, there would be no apparent change.

It will be remembered that Ferdinand had, by violence and treachery, wrested from the Bohemians the privilege of electing their sovereign, and had thus converted Bohemia into an hereditary monarchy. Maximilian, with characteristic prudence, wished to maintain the hereditary right thus established, while at the same time he wished to avoid wounding the prejudices of those who had surrendered the right of suffrage only to fraud and the sword. He accordingly convoked a diet at Prague. The nobles were assembled in large numbers, and the occasion was invested with unusual solemnity. The emperor himself introduced to them his son, and recommended him to them as their future sovereign. The nobles were much gratified by so unexpected a concession, and with enthusiasm accepted their new king. The emperor had thus wisely secured for his son the crowns of Hungary and Bohemia.

Having succeeded in these two important measures, Maximilian set about the more difficult enterprise of securing for his son his succession upon the imperial throne. This was a difficult matter in the strong rivalry which then existed between the Catholics and the Protestants. With caution and conciliation, encountering and overturning innumerable obstacles, Maximilian proceeded, until having, as he supposed, a fair chance of success, he summoned the diet of electors at Ratisbon. But here new difficulties arose. The Protestants were jealous of their constantly imperiled privileges, and wished to surround them with additional safeguards. The Catholics, on the contrary, stimulated by the court of Rome, wished to withdraw the toleration already granted, and to pursue the Protestant faith with new rigor. The meeting of the diet was long and stormy, and again they were upon the point of a violent dissolution. But the wisdom, moderation and perseverance of Maximilian finally prevailed, and his success was entire. Rhodolph III. was unanimously chosen to succeed him upon the imperial throne, and was crowned at Ratisbon on the 1st of November, 1575.

Poland was strictly an elective monarchy. The tumultuous nobles had established a law prohibiting the election of a successor during the lifetime of the monarch. Their last king had been the reckless, chivalrous Henry, Duke of Anjou, brother of Charles IX. of France. Charles IX. having died without issue, Henry succeeded him upon the throne of France, and abdicated the crown of the semi-barbaric wilds of Poland. The nobles were about to assemble for the election. There were many influential candidates. Maximilian was anxious to obtain the crown for his son Ernest. Much to the surprise of Maximilian, he himself was chosen king. Protestantism had gained the ascendency in Poland, and a large majority of the nobles united upon Maximilian. The electors honored both themselves and the emperor in assigning, as the reason for their choice, that the emperor had conciliated the contending factions of the Christian world, and had acquired more glory by his pacific policy than other princes had acquired in the exploits of war.

There were curious conditions at that time assigned to the occupancy of the throne of Poland. The elected monarch, before receiving the crown, was required to give his pledge that he would reside two years uninterruptedly in the kingdom, and that then he would not leave without the consent of the nobles. He was also required to construct four fortresses at his own expense, and to pay all the debts of the last monarch, however heavy they might be, including the arrears of the troops. He was also to maintain a sort of guard of honor, consisting of ten thousand Polish horsemen.

In addition to the embarrassment which these conditions presented, there were many indications of jealousy on the part of other powers, in view of the wonderful aggrandizement of Austria. Encouraged by the emperor's delay and by the hostility of other powers, a minority of the nobles chose Stephen Bathori, a Transylvanian prince, King of Poland; and to strengthen his title, married him to Anne, sister to Sigismond Augustus, the King of Poland who preceded the Duke of Anjou. Maximilian thus aroused, signed the articles of agreement, and the two rival monarchs prepared for war. The kingdoms of Europe were arraying themselves, some on the one side and some on the other, and there was the prospect of a long, desperate and bloody strife, when death stilled the tumult.