Kitabı oku: «The Rise and Fall of Renaissance France», sayfa 11
The Concordat of Bologna (1516)
The Concordat of Bologna was approved by the pope on 18 August 1516, but before it could become law in France it had to be registered by the Parlement of Paris, and Francis I was allowed six months in which to get this done. The parlement, however, was deeply suspicious of a settlement which threatened to undermine, if not to destroy, the liberties of the Gallican church, as enshrined in the Pragmatic Sanction. Although it was asked on 5 February 1517 to register the Concordat, it took more than two years to comply and Francis had to obtain an extension of the deadline he had been given. The parlement’s delaying tactics angered him so much that in June 1517 he ordered his uncle, René of Savoy, to attend the court’s debates. The parlement protested at this infringement of its liberties, but had to submit when Francis threatened to replace its members by ‘gens de bien’ (worthy men). Despite René’s presence, the parlement still would not register the Concordat. Its refusal was conveyed to the king at Amboise by two parlementaires, who had to face his wrath. There would be only one king in France, he declared, and no Senate as in Venice. He threatened to make the parlement ‘trot after him like the Grand conseil’ and accused it of neglecting its judicial duties. When the envoys asked for permission to delay their departure until local floods had subsided, they were told that if they had not left by morning they would be thrown into a deep pit and left there for six months. On 6 March 1518 the king again demanded registration of the Concordat. He was said to be planning to set up a rival parlement at Orléans. The threat achieved its purpose and on 22 March the parlement finally gave way: the Concordat was registered, albeit with the addition of a phrase indicating duress. At the same time, the parlement secretly declared that it would continue to apply the Pragmatic Sanction in ecclesiastical disputes.
No sooner had the parlement capitulated than the University of Paris began to agitate, fearing that its graduates would lose the privileged position given to them by the Pragmatic Sanction in respect of collation to ecclesiastical benefices. The university suspended its lectures, forbade anyone to print the Concordat, and appealed to a future General Council. A memorandum denouncing the Concordat was circulated to preachers for use in their Lenten sermons. Placards to the same effect were put up in colleges and public places. Francis ordered the parlement to intervene; otherwise, he threatened to apply the severest measures. A few days later he appointed a special commission to enquire into the disorders. College principals were ordered to restrain their students. On 25 April the university was forbidden to meddle in state affairs under pain of loss of its privileges and banishment from the kingdom.
It is commonly assumed that the main purpose of the Concordat was to increase the king’s control of the Gallican church and that, having won the battle of Marignano, he had imposed his terms on Leo X. Both assumptions, however, are questionable. The crown, as we have seen, already had extensive control of the church before 1516. After 1438 the church was governed in theory by the Pragmatic Sanction, which allowed chapters the right to elect bishops and abbots; but the monarchy often determined the outcome of elections. By 1515 royal control of the ecclesiastical hierarchy was an accepted fact. This was acknowledged by the president of the parlement in March 1515, when he begged Francis to appoint worthy men of sufficient years to administer sees and religious houses.
Marignano did not give Francis mastery of Italy. He remained vulnerable in the north, nor could he impose terms on the pope. The king needed Leo not merely to safeguard his own gains in north Italy but also to acquire territory farther south. In February 1516, on learning of the death of Ferdinand of Aragon, Francis ‘decided to try to recover the kingdom of Naples’. To achieve this, however, he needed the pope’s help. As temporal ruler of the States of the Church, Leo controlled the overland route south; as suzerain of Naples, he alone could grant its investiture. So Francis decided to satisfy the long-standing papal demand for the annulment of the Pragmatic Sanction, even though this meant offending his subjects. It was primarily to win papal support for his Italian policy that he signed the Concordat.
As a political move, the Concordat was a failure. After supporting the king of France, Leo X ditched him in 1521. Yet Francis was never tempted to revoke the Concordat. As long as he hoped to re-establish his rule in Italy he tried to remain on good terms with the Holy See. As an ecclesiastical settlement, the Concordat was a bargain struck by the king and the papacy at the expense of the Gallican liberties. It restored papal authority in France while legalizing and enlarging royal control of church appointments. Yet the king was not given unlimited control: the pope retained the right of instituting royal nominees and of setting aside any whose qualifications fell short of the canonical requirements. Some churches were also allowed to continue electing their superiors. In practice, however, the Concordat was not strictly applied: the king imposed his candidates on churches claiming the privilege of election, and in June 1531 he obtained from the pope the annulment of this privilege, except in respect of religious houses. Francis also sometimes ignored canonical requirements. Very occasionally the pope refused to institute a royal nominee, but this was exceptional. In general the Concordat strengthened royal control of the Gallican church.
Naples and Navarre
On 23 January, after Francis had returned to the south of France, Ferdinand of Aragon died leaving his kingdom to his grandson Charles. This upset the balance of power in Europe, for Charles already ruled the Netherlands and Franche-Comté. By gaining the kingdoms of Castile, Aragon and Naples, he became France’s most powerful neighbour. What is more, Francis had an interest in Naples and Navarre, two of the territories now acquired by Charles. Having inherited the Angevin claim to Naples, he ordered the archives of Provence to be searched for documentary proof of his title. Part of the small Pyrenean kingdom of Navarre had been seized by Ferdinand from its king, Jean d’Albret, in 1512 and had since been absorbed into Castile. Jean looked to the king of France for redress. As duke of Burgundy, Charles had implicitly recognized Jean’s claim to Navarre, but he was unlikely to do so in his new role of Spanish monarch. He was equally unlikely to give up Naples.
For a time, however, trouble between Francis and Charles was contained. For Charles, who was in the Netherlands at the time, still had to take possession of his Spanish realm, where, as a Fleming by birth, he could expect opposition. He needed assurance that France would not invade the Netherlands during his absence in Spain. On 13 August, therefore, he and Francis signed the Treaty of Noyon. Charles was promised the hand of Louise, Francis’s infant daughter, and Naples was to be part of her dowry. Pending the marriage, Charles was to pay Francis an annual tribute for Naples of 100,000 gold écus thereby implicitly recognizing the French claim to that kingdom. He also promised to compensate Jean d’Albret’s widow, Catherine de Foix, for the loss of Spanish Navarre.
The ‘Perpetual’ Peace of Fribourg (29 November 1516)
In Austria, meanwhile, Cardinal Schiner had been urging the Emperor Maximilian to invade Milan and restore the Sforzas to power. The emperor could count on the support of some Swiss and of Henry VIII, whose jealousy had been aroused by the French victory at Marignano. Early in March 1516, Maximilian invaded north Italy. He reached the outskirts of Milan, but two days later he suddenly decamped, leaving his troops in the lurch. His ignominious flight enabled Francis to come to terms with the Swiss. On 29 November the so-called ‘Perpetual Peace of Fribourg’ was signed. Francis agreed to pay a war indemnity of 700,000 écus to the cantons. He also promised them 300,000 écus for the castles of Lugano and Locarno and fortresses in the Valtelline, and an annual subsidy of 2000 écus to each canton. The Swiss, for their part, promised not to serve anyone against France. Although less than a complete alliance, the treaty gave Francis the right to hire Swiss mercenaries in the future. The peace was called ‘perpetual’ because it was never formally broken. Swiss troops still guarded the king of France during the French Revolution.
On 11 March 1517, Francis, Maximilian and Charles of Spain signed the Treaty of Cambrai in which they agreed to assist each other if attacked and to join a crusade. Christendom needed to unite against the westward expansion of the Turks. Under Mehmet II they had captured Constantinople, penetrated deep into the Balkans and expelled the Venetians from Euboea. Now, under Selim the Grim, they were advancing once more: after overrunning Syria in August 1516, they invaded Egypt early in 1517. ‘It is time’, Leo X declared, ‘that we woke from sleep lest we be put to the sword unawares.’ In March 1518 he proclaimed a five-year truce among Christian powers and sent nuncios to the courts of Europe to gather support for a crusade, but they were more interested in problems nearer home than in the Balkans or eastern Mediterranean.
In September 1517, Charles arrived in Spain with an entourage of Flemings and took control of his kingdom. The Treaty of Noyon had become an embarrassment to him: he could not afford to pay the Neapolitan tribute and seemed disinclined to honour his pledge regarding Navarre. Yet Charles continued to assure Francis of his good intentions. In May 1519 a conference was held at Montpellier to sort out differences between the two monarchs, but it soon became a slanging match over the question of Navarre and collapsed altogether following the death of Boisy, who had led the French delegation.
The imperial election (1519)
On 12 January 1519 the Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian I, died, causing another major upheaval of Europe’s power structure. The Empire was an elective dignity, not a hereditary one, the emperor being chosen by seven Electors: the archbishops of Mainz, Cologne and Trier, the king of Bohemia, the Elector-Palatine, the duke of Saxony and the margrave of Brandenburg. They were not obliged to choose a Habsburg or even a German, for the Empire was a supra-national dignity, the secular counterpart of the papacy. Thus it was possible for a Frenchman to be a candidate.
In 1516, even before Maximilian’s death, the archbishops of Mainz and Trier had invited Francis to stand for election, promising him their votes. They had soon been joined by Joachim of Brandenburg and the Elector-Palatine, so that the king could reasonably expect a majority in his favour in the electoral college. The Empire attracted him not only for its international prestige, but also because he wanted to keep it out of the hands of Maximilian’s grandson Charles, who was already powerful enough. As he explained, ‘The reason which moves me to gain the Empire … is to prevent the said Catholic King from doing so. If he were to succeed, seeing the extent of his kingdoms and lordships, this could do me immeasurable harm; he would always be mistrustful and suspicious, and would doubtless throw me out of Italy.’
The Electors were less interested in Francis’s candidature than in promoting a contest. Under rules laid down in the Golden Bull, an imperial election was supposed to be free of corruption. In practice, however, it resembled an auction. As the Habsburgs marshalled their resources, Francis did likewise. He sent envoys to the Electors with 400,000 écus to distribute as bribes. When Charles Guillart suggested that persuasion might be preferable to bribery, Francis strongly disagreed. He was better placed than his rival to win the election, for he was closer to Germany and allowed his agents a free hand, whereas Charles was far away in Spain and would not allow his agents to concede anything without his prior approval. But Francis was denied the co-operation of the German bankers, who sided with the Habsburgs if only because they controlled the silver mines of central Europe. Consequently, he was denied exchange facilities and obliged to send ready cash to Germany at a time when the roads were infested with brigands.
German public opinion was also strongly anti-French. Habsburg agents used every means, including sermons and illustrated broadsheets, to stir up suspicion and hatred of the French. Germans were led to believe that the bribes Francis was distributing had been forcibly taken from his subjects and that a comparable fate would befall themselves if he were elected. Francis countered this propaganda by claiming that he, rather than Charles, would be the more effective champion of Christendom against the Turkish Infidel.
On 8 June 1519 the Electors gathered at Frankfurt under the shadow of the army of the Swabian League. No Frenchmen, said Henry of Nassau, would enter Germany save on the points of spears and swords. At the eleventh hour Leo X, who had so far supported Francis as the lesser of two evils (he did not wish to see a union of the imperial and Neapolitan crowns), changed his mind. Even Francis gave up hope of winning. On 26 June he withdrew his candidature and, two days later, Charles was chosen unanimously.
Historians have often assumed that the rivalry which developed between Francis and Charles stemmed from the imperial election. Francis was undoubtedly vexed by the result, particularly as he had wasted some 400,000 écus on bribes. But his disappointment was dwarfed by the political implications of the election. Before Charles could be a fully-fledged emperor, he needed to be crowned by the pope in Italy. He was likely to go there in force and would almost certainly threaten Francis’s hold on Milan, particularly as the emperor was the duchy’s suzerain. The pope, too, had reason to fear Habsburg domination of the peninsula. On 22 October he signed a secret treaty with Francis. While the king promised to defend the States of the Church against Charles, Leo undertook to deny Charles the investiture of Naples.
The Field of Cloth of Gold (June 1520)
The imperial election brought France and England closer together. Whereas in the past there had been four major powers in Europe, France, Spain, England and the Empire, now there were only three, Spain and the Empire having become joined in the person of Charles V. As France and the new Habsburg state seemed of roughly equal weight, England’s position was enhanced. Cardinal Wolsey, who directed Henry VIII’s foreign policy, revived the idea, first mooted in 1518, of a meeting between Henry and Francis. On 12 March he laid down the conditions of what has become known as the Field of Cloth of Gold. Charles, whose aunt Catherine of Aragon was Henry’s queen, tried hard to prevent the meeting or to secure its postponement. He visited England on his way from Spain to Germany and held talks with Henry VIII, but no one knows what they decided.
The Anglo-French meeting took place in June at a site between the English town of Guînes and the French town of Ardres. Providing suitable accommodation for the large number of participants was probably the biggest headache for the organizers. Henry erected a large temporary palace outside Guînes castle, while Francis put up a superb tent covered with gold brocade and striped with blue velvet powdered with gold fleur-de-lys. It was the tallest of some 300 or 400 pitched in a meadow outside Ardres.
The Field of Cloth of Gold consisted of two events: the initial meeting of the kings on 7 June and a tournament or feat of arms scheduled to last twelve days. Henry and his court crossed the Channel on 31 May. Soon afterwards, Wolsey with a magnificent escort called on Francis at Ardres and signed a treaty which provided for the marriage between the Dauphin and Mary Tudor. On 7 June, at an agreed signal, the two kings, each accompanied by a large escort, moved towards the Val Doré, where they faced each other on two artificial mounds. After a fanfare, Henry and Francis rode towards the bottom of the valley. They spurred their mounts as if about to engage in combat, but instead embraced each other. After dismounting, they retired to a tent where they were joined by Wolsey and Bonnivet. An hour later they emerged and presented their respective nobles to each other.
The ‘feat of arms’, which began on 11 June, lasted till the 24th. Complicated regulations had been drawn up to prevent accidents. The two kings did not fight each other: they competed each with his own team. The famous story of Henry being worsted by Francis in a wrestling match is probably apocryphal. What is certain is that the king of France soon tired of the rigid etiquette that had been prescribed. On 17 June he paid Henry a surprise visit. Bursting into his chamber, he exclaimed: ‘Brother, here am I your prisoner!’ Not to be outdone, Henry turned up in Francis’s bedroom two days later. This put everyone in a good mood. On 23 June mass was celebrated by Wolsey amidst great pomp on the tournament field. The two royal chapels sang alternate verses of hymns accompanied by an organ, trombones and cornets. Afterwards the pope’s blessing was conferred on both kings. Louise of Savoy announced that her son and Henry intended jointly to build a palace in the Val Doré where they might meet each year, and also a chapel dedicated to Our Lady of Friendship.
Money matters
Francis I incurred heavy expenses from the start of his reign. Having inherited a deficit of 1.4 million livres from Louis XII, he had to pay for that king’s funeral and for his own coronation. The overall cost of the Marignano campaign has been estimated at 7.5 million livres. The Peace of Fribourg cost the French crown one million écus and inaugurated a system of pensions to the Swiss. In 1518, Francis paid 600,000 écus for the return of Tournai. The imperial election campaign may have cost him another 400,000 écus and the Field of Cloth of Gold at least 200,000l. In June 1517 the king’s council decided to levy supplementary taxes worth 1,100,0431. in an attempt to reduce the government’s deficit of 3,996,5061.
Francis did not substantially change either the burden or the structure of taxation during his reign. Royal income from taxes rose by an annual average of 1.44 per cent, which is moderate by comparison with the average of 2.38 per cent per annum under Louis XII and 5.7 per cent per annum under Henry II. The taille rose most in absolute terms: from about 2.4 million livres in 1515 to some 4.6 million in 1544–5 with a fall to 3.6 million in 1547. The rate of the gabelle in north and central France trebled during the reign, but over the whole kingdom its value was only 700,000l. in 1547 as compared with less than 400,000 in the early part of the reign. The aides and other indirect taxes are said to have risen from about 1.2 million to 2.15 million. Domainal revenues did not rise at all. The only tax created by Francis was one on walled towns to pay for infantry.
However, taxation estimates based on the central records are misleading, for a high proportion of the receipts were disbursed at the collection point and never reached the royal treasury. The actual burden of taxation was also heavier than is suggested by the central records, the sums imposed by local collectors being often in excess of the legal limits. The yield was also eroded by the costs of collection.
Although in theory the French church was exempt from direct taxation, the reality was different. In theory the clerical tenth or décime was a voluntary gift to assist the king in an emergency, yet in practice it became virtually a regular tax. Following the Concordat of Bologna, the pope allowed Francis to levy a tenth on the French clergy and he did so again in 1527 and 1533, but papal authorization was not regarded as essential; the initiative was often taken by the king alone. Altogether 57 tenths were levied under Francis and may have yielded a total of 18 million livres.
It was outside his regular income that Francis innovated most. To meet his immediate needs, he borrowed from merchants and bankers, most of them Italians who had settled in Lyon. They lent to the crown sometimes under constraint or in exchange for commercial concessions, but usually as a result of free speculative choice. The king was often prepared to pay high rates of interest. For example, a loan of 100,000 écus raised for the Field of Cloth of Gold carried an annual interest of 16.2 per cent. By 1516 the crown was already heavily in debt to the Lyon bankers.
Francis also borrowed heavily from his own tax officials, who were invariably men of substance. If for some reason the tax yield was lower than expected, a tax official might be asked to advance money from his own pocket. In return, he would be allowed to reimburse himself from the next year’s tax receipts. This was how taxes were ‘anticipated’. On a number of occasions the king helped himself to the inheritance of a wealthy subject. His first victim was the seigneur de Boisy who died in May 1519.
Although many towns were exempt from the taille, they were often asked for forced loans, which could be even more burdensome. In 1515 and 1516, for example, Francis asked for sums ranging from 1500 to 6000 livres each from Toulouse, Lyon, Troyes and Angers. Paris was asked for 20,000l. to help pay for the defence of the kingdom. Sometimes a town was allowed to recoup by levying a local tax or octroi on some commodity such as wine. An expedient much used by Francis was the alienation of crown lands by gift or sale. This was repeatedly opposed by the parlement, which pointed to the adverse effect on the king’s ‘poor subjects’ of any diminution of his ‘ordinary’ revenue, but Francis always managed to get his way.
Two other expedients were the sale of titles of nobility and of royal offices. As far as is known, Francis issued 183 letters of ennoblement during his reign of which 153 were sold. They cost between 100 and 300 écus before 1543 and considerably more afterwards. As for offices, Francis turned their sale into a veritable system. They were sold directly to bourgeois anxious to acquire them as a means of social advancement (for many offices conferred noble status on the holders) or were given away as rewards for services rendered or as repayment of loans, leaving the recipients free to sell them if they wished. Francis also sold résignations and survivances which enabled office-holders to nominate their successors. The price of a councillorship in the Parlement of Paris was fixed by 1522 at 3000 écus; other offices commanded variable amounts. The sale or venality of offices created a dangerous situation in the long term as they tended to be monopolized by a limited number of families.
The trésoriers de France and généraux des finances (known collectively as gens des finances), who administered the crown’s finances between 1515 and 1527, were closely related to each other and shared their interests. Alongside their royal duties they ran very profitable businesses of their own. Consequently, their public and private functions overlapped, offering speculative temptations. An outstanding member of this financial oligarchy was Jacques de Beaune, baron of Semblançay, the son of a rich merchant of Tours, who became the king’s chief financial adviser after serving his mother and, before her, Anne of Brittany. As général of Languedoïl, he played a leading role in funding the Marignano campaign. In January 1518 he was given overall powers of supervision over all the king’s revenues, but it was probably as an agent of credit that he proved most useful to the crown. Important as they were, the gens des finances did not have ultimate control of the crown’s financial policy. This was vested in the king’s council among whose members one, usually the Grand Master, was singled out to oversee financial business. The king himself was by no means uninterested in such business. In April 1519 he spent three days with his gens des finances looking for ways to fund the army.
