Charles V E-Book

Harald Kleinschmidt

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2011

Beschreibung

In his biography of Charles V Harald Kleidschmidt paints a vivid portrait of one of the most intriguing of the great European monarchs.

Das E-Book Charles V wird angeboten von The History Press und wurde mit folgenden Begriffen kategorisiert:
monarch,king charles v,european monarch,kingship,dynasty,medieval,emperor,catholic,catholic christendom,holy roman emperor,spanish empire,king of the romans,king of italy,king of spain,archduke of austria,lord of the netherlands,duke of burgundy,philip the handsom,maximillian i|joanna the mad,king ferdinand,isabella of spain,valois,hasburgs,san yuste,christianity,the world emperor

Leseprobe

Charles V

Charles V

The World Emperor

Harald Kleinschmidt

First published in 2004 by Sutton Publishing

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2012

All rights reserved

© Harald Kleinschmidt, 2004, 2012

The right of Harald Kleinschmidt, to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 7440 3

MOBI ISBN 978 0 7524 7439 7

Original typesetting by The History Press

Contents

List of Abbreviations

Introduction

One

Dramatis Personae: The Dynasties

Creating a family of rulers

Coming of age in the Netherlands

Teacher of a future emperor: Jakob Mennel

Two

The Stage for the Show: The Old versus the New World

The succession to the Spanish kingdoms (1515–19)

The Roman Empire and the conquest of the New World

Dividing the world?

Three

Enter the Peace-bringing Ruler: The Making of an Emperor (1519–21)

Electing a new emperor

Peace versus the pursuit of power

Charles’s promises: the election capitularies

Four

Scenes of the Struggle for Power: Dynastic Politics and the Crusade (1521–30)

Power politics

The balance of power

The quest for control: Charles’s reflections on his political goals and the formulation of his imperial title

Five

Defence of the Realms: European Wars, Spanish and New World Affairs (1530–48)

The warring emperor

The quest for rulership: bureaucracies, advisers and a travelling emperor

Concerns for the rule of law

Six

Triumph and Showdown: The War against the Ottoman Turkish Empire and the Struggle against the Lutherans (1530–48)

Turks and Lutherans, enemies of the emperor

The conceptualisation of territorial rule: the case of Quedlinburg

Charles as overlord of imperial cities

Seven

Exeunt: Succession Issues, the Settlement of 1555, Abdications, Retirement, Death (1549–58)

Ending the struggle

Inventing retirement

Bidding farewell: Charles’s Brussels abdication address

Notes

Selected Further Reading

List of Abbreviations

Cal. Venice

Calendar of State Papers and Manuscripts, Relating to English Affairs, Existing in the Archives and Collections of Venice and in Other Libraries of Northern Italy, ed. Rawdon Brown et al. (London, 1864–).

Kohler, ed., Quellen

Quellen zur Geschichte Karls V., ed. Alfred Kohler (Darmstadt, 1990) (Ausgewählte Quellen zur deutschen Geschichte der Neuzeit, 15).

Lanz, ed., Correspondenz

Correspondenz des Kaisers Karl V. Aus dem Königlichen Archiv und der Bibliothèque de Bourgogne zu Brüssel, 3 vols, ed. Karl Friedrich Wilhelm Lanz (Leipzig, 1844–46) [repr. (Frankfurt, 1966)].

Lanz, ed., Staatspapiere

Staatspapiere zur Geschichte Kaiser Karls V. Aus dem Königlichen Archiv und der Bibliothèque de Bourgogne zu Brüssel, ed. Karl Friedrich Wilhelm Lanz (Stuttgart, 1845) (Bibliothek des Litterarischen Vereins, 11).

LP

Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Relating to the Reign of Henry VIII, ed. John Sherren Brewer et al., 22 vols (London, 1862–1930).

MGH, SS

Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores

MGH, SS rer. Merov.

Monumenta Germanie Historica, Scriptores rerum Merovingicarum

RTA 1

Deutsche Reichstagsakten. Jüngere Reihe, vol. 1, ed. August Kluckhohn (Gotha, 1893).

RTA 2

Deutsche Reichstagsakten. Jüngere Reihe, vol. 2, ed. Adolf Wrede (Gotha, 1896).

RTA 7

Deutsche Reichstagsakten. Jüngere Reihe, vol. 7, ed. Johannes Kühn (Göttingen, 1962).

RTA 8

Deutsche Reichstagsakten. Jüngere Reihe, vol. 8, ed. Wolfgang Steglich (Göttingen, 1970).

SP Spain

Calendar of Letters, Despatches, and State Papers Relating to the Negotiations between England and Spain, preserved in the Archives at Simancas, Vienna, Brussels, and Elsewhere, ed. G.A. Bergenroth et al., 14 vols (London, 1862–1940).

Weiss, ed., Papiers

Papiers d’état du cardinal de Granvelle d’après les manuscrits de la bibliothèque de Besançon, 9 vols, ed. Charles Weiss (Paris, 1841–43).

Stabius-Dürer, map of the world, 1515. (London, British Library)

Peter Apian, map of the world, 1530. (London, British Library)

Introduction

Peter Paul Rubens’s portrait of 1635 eternalises Emperor Charles V as a warrior and as a world emperor. Wearing a laurel wreath and dressed in full armour underneath a tunic, Charles holds a globe (sphaira) in his left hand and a sword in his right. He extends his right hand and presents the sword with its blade upwards but pushes the globe towards his chest. He appears to be ready to strike with his right hand while seeking to protect the globe against an attack.

Rubens drew on the medieval occidental iconography of emperors. From the tenth century occidental rulers bearing the imperial title were often shown holding the sphaira as the symbol of universal rule in their extended left hand and the sceptre as the symbol of virtue and equity in their extended right hand. Rubens modified the medieval model in two important respects: he replaced the symbol of virtue and equity by the symbol of war-proneness and did not allow Charles to extend his left hand. Rubens’s portrait thus visualises a tension between Charles as a daring warrior and Charles as the peace-bringing emperor. Readiness to use military force and willingness to protect the world do not seem to go together.

Rubens’s portrait is part of a tradition of scepticism that constitutes a conflict between the tasks of a warrior and the tasks of a ruler; that juxtaposes the values of heroism against the values of stoicism; that recognises the obligation of warriors to risk their lives while it imposes upon rulers the obligation to preserve their lives as long as they can. Again, the tradition is old. It can be traced back to the tenth century. But did Charles himself accept the view that there was a conflict between warriors’ and rulers’ norms, values and rules? Certainly, some of his advisers urged him not to risk his life, and Charles died peacefully, though not as a ruler. Yet he consciously risked his life on several occasions, was trained in combat, acted as a military commander and reflected on aspects of the theory of war. Contrary to the legacy of the medieval tradition of rulers’ ethics Charles combined rather than juxtaposed warriors’ and rulers’ norms, values and rules. This book will show that Charles saw the fulfilment of his warrior tasks as the precondition for the accomplishment of his obligations as a ruler. War was an element of life, peace a dream about the future at best. Although he lived with medieval traditions, Charles was not a man of the Middle Ages.

Charles was born as a Burgundian nobleman at Ghent in the Netherlands on 24 February 1500. He took the office of the duke of Burgundy at the age of six. He succeeded as ruler of the Spanish kingdoms in 1516 and was elected emperor in 1519. As a young man Charles raised the most exalted hopes: that he could unify Christendom and that he could pacify the world. Indeed, he journeyed back and forth between the Iberian peninsula and central Europe attempting to ‘bring peace and good government’ to his many subjects. But, after forty years in office, his many foes denounced him as ‘the butcher of Flanders’ and nicknamed him ‘Charles of Ghent who claims to be emperor’. At the age of fifty-five he felt ill and so tired that he abdicated and spent his remaining years in the vicinity of a monastery, where he died in 1558.

Charles’s experience was the most extravagant among the unusual lives that many holders of high office have led. As a ruler he bore different numbers. As duke of Burgundy and ruler over the Netherlands he has been known as Charles II, as Spanish ruler he has been Charles I, and as emperor he has received the number V. At times he was also archduke of Austria and duke of Milan. He was in control of the island worlds to which Columbus had journeyed, the Native American empires that Hernán Cortés and Francisco Pizarro had conquered and, at times, the Spice Islands in the South Pacific that the Magellan expedition had visited. His nearest relatives were his brother Ferdinand, to whom he granted his title of archduke of Austria and who was also king of Bohemia and Hungary and king of the Romans; his sister, who was regent for the Netherlands; the king of Denmark, Sweden (with Finland) and Norway, who was his brother-in-law; the king of France, who was another brother-in-law; the kings of Portugal, one of whom was his brother-in-law, another his son-in-law; the queen of England, who was his daughter-in-law; the duke of Florence, who was his son-in-law; and the duke of Parma, who was also his son-in-law. His rivals and enemies regarded Charles and his closest kin as a threat to peace in Christendom, criticised them for their accumulation of offices and accused them of excessive ambition. In response to these charges Charles insisted that, in all his wars, he never wanted anything for himself but was only trying to do his best to promote peace in the world. But he envisioned peace as an order that he and only he was going to establish.

Charles was an elusive figure, his world paradoxical. Historians must search for him by tracing his footprints. But footprints can only show where he was, not who he was. While political scientists may be able to stand on tiptoe observing politicians in action in front of them, historians cannot look over Charles’s shoulder. For historians, he remains behind a veil of texts recording his movements. There is an abundance of texts bearing Charles’s name. But he never saw most of these and among the minority of letters that he did write with his own hand are some which do not reflect his own thoughts but those of his advisers. Charles was an elusive figure not merely because he was an itinerant ruler but because, despite his remarkable rhetorical skills, he did not communicate with many people. Dr Martin Luther, who liked to talk, and confronted him on two occasions, called him ‘our silent emperor’. I have tried to penetrate behind the veil of texts by letting Charles respond to the paradoxical world in which he was moving as a warrior and ruler. I do not attempt to explain the paradoxes of his world; for I have neither the intention of undoing them nor the ability to instil meaning into them retrospectively. Instead, I allow the paradoxes to remain in Charles’s world and record Charles’s responses primarily through his actions and less often through his words. Keeping silent is also a way of responding and, needless to say, a type of manifest action.

In a biography the hero determines the framework of chronology, not the historian. Nevertheless, it is the historian’s task to mark time. I have used the years 1515, 1519, 1521, 1530 and 1548 as major epochal breaks. In Chapter One, I introduce Charles’s family and describe his youth to 1515. In Chapter Two, I examine his ascendance to the Spanish kingdoms to 1519. In Chapter Three, I relate the story of his early years as emperor to 1521. In Chapter Four, I trace his movements to 1530. The period from 1530 to 1548 poses difficulties for Charles’s biographer because he was simultaneously engaged in activities concerning many different peoples and places. Rather than jumping back and forth from one scene to another, I have forced Charles to pass through these crucial years twice. Thus, in Chapter Five, I display him engaged in European military and diplomatic strife and Spanish overseas affairs, and in Chapter Six, I observe him in his struggles against Turkish armies and adherents to what Charles persistently referred to as the ‘Lutheran heresy’. Chapter Seven covers the final years.

Each chapter consists of three sections. The first section always gives the narration of events, following the chronological framework. The second section establishes the background of the world in which these events took place. The third section reviews carefully selected sources relevant to the main contents of the chapter.

Charles’s world was the remote world of courts. Unlike his grandfather, Emperor Maximilian I, he was not a popular figure and did not become a hero of literature. Nevertheless, there remains something artificial about Charles and his world, as if it were the world of the stage.

Europe and the Habsburg possessions at the time of Charles V.

ONE

Dramatis Personae: The Dynasties

CREATING A FAMILY OF RULERS

A duke meets the emperor

Appearances matter. Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy and ruler over a plethora of territories within the Holy Roman Empire and beyond its western fringes, spared no pomp when he met Emperor Frederick III in the city of Trier in 1473. Trier was gleaming with symbols of empire. Once a residential imperial capital in the bygone days of antiquity, it still featured ruins of once-lavish Roman baths, of imperial palaces and a well-preserved gate that remained in use as a church. In the Middle Ages, the city became the seat of an archbishopric, and as an archiepiscopal metropolis it wielded considerable influence over the empire, the Netherlands as well as France. When meeting the emperor in the monastery of St Maximin, Charles the Bold brought along stupendous manifestations of his wealth, decorating the meeting-place with tapestries and precious pieces of art and dressing himself up in the most elegant of garments that his manufacturers could produce.1 Frederick III was unable to equal Charles’s splendour. The emperor was poor as an officeholder, as he depended on the revenues that the lesser rulers in the empire were willing to award to him. But Frederick had immaterial treasures to offer, namely an impressive genealogy of ancestors and the right to designate his successor. In 1473, Frederick had been at the helm of the empire for thirty-three years while using the time to advance the fame of his dynasty, the Habsburgs. He tried to keep his own branch of the dynasty in the imperial office, and thus boosted the expectation that his son Maximilian, born in 1459, would be the heir to all Habsburg dominions. The Habsburgs were in control of areas scattered in what is today Austria, Switzerland, southern Germany, northern Italy and Slovenia, outnumbering the holdings of Charles the Bold. Frederick’s marriage to Eleonore of Portugal secured him good connections to one of the most dynamic economies in fifteenth-century Europe next to the realms under the control of Charles the Bold. Imperial genealogists were compiling preposterous family trees that connected Frederick with the Frankish kings of the early Middle Ages; the ancient Roman aristocratic family of the Colonna; Hector and Aeneas, the heroes of the Trojan War; the ancient Roman emperors; Osiris, the ancient Egyptian hero; and Noah, the biblical father. Frederick did not forget to bring a booklet with his genealogies to Trier, which he put on display before his counterpart.2

By Frederick’s standards, Charles was nobody. As a descendant of the French royal dynasty of the Valois he could reiterate their claim to descent from the Trojans. Moreover, if Frederick’s wife was a Portuguese princess, so was Charles’s mother Isabella. But his own branch had split off from the French royal dynasty merely four generations ago when establishing itself as the dukes of Burgundy. True, Charles cared little about legal niceties and used his wealth to demonstrate his power. He even created a propagandistic fancy that portrayed the duke of Burgundy at a rank similar to that of the Roman emperor. But King Louis XI of France, Charles’s archrival, contended these claims and insisted that the dukes of Burgundy were his disloyal vassals. Charles could only hope to be able to continue to live up to his image of a wealthy and powerful ruler equal to the emperor and kings of France, England and Portugal if he succeeded in demonstrating his ability to resist Louis’s claims for suzerainty. Charles’s dilemma was thus that he could use his wealth and power only as long as he was able to keep his position of autonomy, but could hope to succeed in the long run merely if he found an alliance partner. Frederick, of course, knew Charles’s dilemma well. Yet at Trier, Charles had his trump cards. His third wife, whom he had married in 1468, was Margaret of York, sister of King Edward IV. Through this marriage he was thus allied with the English kings. By his second wife Isabella of Bourbon he had a daughter, Mary, born in 1457 and thus matching Maximilian in age. And this was why the two rulers met at Trier: if it was possible to mate their children, a power house would come into existence that could bring together the ruling dynasties of the Roman Empire, Burgundy, England and Portugal. The combination could not only secure Charles’s position against Louis XI of France, but offered golden opportunities in the dreams of ambitious fathers.

As Frederick wanted Charles’s money together with his daughter and Charles wanted Frederick’s status together with his son, the deal seemed to be straightforward. But Charles knew his value. He demanded nothing less than the imperial crown in exchange for his daughter. In Charles’s view, the deal was this: Mary would marry Maximilian, Charles would succeed Frederick as emperor, and Maximilian would succeed Charles. Nicknamed ‘the rash’ by his junior contemporaries, Charles would neither take into account that the ageing Frederick might continue to occupy the imperial throne for another twenty years nor imagine that Louis XI would be able to mobilise a formidable enemy against his disloyal vassal. Nevertheless, Charles’s conditions were tough for Frederick. The empire was not a hereditary monarchy, as the emperors were elected by a college of seven rulers bearing the appropriate title ‘electors’. What if these electors refused to consent to Charles’s demands? Frederick hesitated, and the meeting ended in a draw. Mary was betrothed to Maximilian and further decisions were postponed to the future.

The future that forced Frederick to make decisions came sooner than he may have anticipated. Louis XI concluded an agreement with the Swiss canton of Bern that allowed him to rally Swiss warriors against Charles. By 1476, the Swiss were ready for battle, and Charles decided to face the enemy. Drawing on his revenues, he assembled the most modern of armies, equipped with high-technology weapons, such as mortars, cannon and portable firearms, and staffed with numerous well-trained warriors. He loaded the big cannon on wheels, so that they could be hauled quickly and with ease wherever they were needed. He added a large cavalry and requested enforcements with longbowmen from his English relatives. He carefully planned tactical arrangements for battle that allowed him a maximum of flexible responses. The Swiss appeared to be no match for this fighting force. They relied mainly on a long variant of the lance, called the pike, a weapon that farmers could use with ease, together with a small cavalry and a few firearms. They ordered the pikemen into one large battalion called ‘the heap’, which could march straight forwards to strike at the enemy but could hardly manoeuvre. Hence, all odds pointed against the Swiss, and yet they won the first battle against Charles at Grandson early in 1476 because Charles simply could not break into the carefully maintained Swiss rank and file. Charles was again defeated at Murten later in the same year, when he lost much of his valuable equipment. In the third battle, at Nancy in January 1477, Charles’s army was completely destroyed and the duke’s body was discovered in the mud only days after the battle had ended. Louis XI’s proxy warriors had done their job well.

The emperor’s son and the duke’s daughter get married

Maximilian, then approaching the age of eighteen, was eager to have his marriage concluded. Under the given conditions Mary, the new reigning duchess of Burgundy, had no choice but to accept the deal. Maximilian thus entered the stage as a juvenile warrior willing to take up the defence of the Burgundian realms against Louis XI, the old man in Paris. The campaigns proved protracted and difficult. The loyalty of the estates, namely the urban governments and seigneurial lords in Charles’s vast realms, was shaken by the defeats at Grandson, Murten and Nancy. Revenue came in less easily and, above all, there were thorny legal issues. With Charles the Bold gone, Maximilian was the unquestioned heir apparent in the empire. As the husband of the reigning duchess of Burgundy, he was theoretically a vassal to the French king. As the future emperor could hardly accept being dependent on the French king, Burgundy would have to be constituted as a polity of its own, so to speak, between France and the empire. But this strategy would lead to a Habsburg–Valois rift and deepen the antagonism between the empire and the kingdom of France. Through his campaigns for the Habsburg succession over Burgundy, Maximilian tried to prevent Louis XI from calling back his fief. Maximilian thus faced the awkward task of restoring the loyalty of the Burgundian estates without breaking with the French king. Luckily, Maximilian’s fighting force of German lansquenets gained a victory at Guinegate in 1479, rescuing Artois, Tournai and Picardy for Maximilian. Through her so-called ‘Great Privilege’ of 1477, Mary succeeded in soliciting support from the Burgundian estates by confirming their liberties, some of which the previous dukes had alienated. The privilege restored the right of self-government and became the equivalent of a constitution for Burgundy and the Netherlands. However, Maximilian failed to retain the core part of the duchy of Burgundy around the city of Dijon, once the residential capital of the dukes. The Franche-Comté of Burgundy around Besançon remained contested, although the dukes continued to hold extensive stretches of land there. Yet the ducal power base moved northwards near the urban landscapes of Brabant and Flanders, with Brussels strengthening its position as the administrative centre.

Meanwhile, the Burgundian ducal family grew. Two children, Philip and Margaret, were born in 1478 and 1480. They were named after Mary’s grandfather and her stepmother and thus, through their names, displayed their parents’ willingness to continue the Burgundian heritage. Maximilian was deeply impressed by the splendour of Burgundian court life, the rigour of administrative techniques and the aesthetic refinement of production and reproduction in the arts and crafts. Burgundy appeared to have a future not only as an intermediary between France and the empire but also as a type of polity later to be referred to as the state. However, that bright future was seriously jeopardised when Mary fell from her horse in 1482 while enjoying a hunting excursion and died. Mary’s sudden and premature death was a shock for Maximilian, as his emotional ties to his wife were strong. Even as an old man he remembered her with love and devotion in a lavish piece of literature that described his Burgundian campaign in the style of a medieval wooing epic.3 Yet the grief over the sudden loss of his beloved wife was surmounted by political worries. King Louis XI of France died in 1483, leaving the French throne to his son, a young man who succeeded as Charles VIII. Fortunately for Maximilian, Charles VIII displayed less concern for Burgundian affairs than his father but developed a keener interest in Italian matters. But the question was whether the Burgundian estates accepted Maximilian as their ruler. Maximilian decided to take the risk and had himself quickly invested as duke of Burgundy. At least he had two children, was himself ready for another marriage and intended to use the opportunity strategically to promote a Habsburg–Valois rapprochement. By 1483, he had sent his daughter Margaret to the court of Louis XI to prepare her for the marriage with the future Charles VIII. In 1489, he agreed to marry Anne, the reigning duchess of Brittany, at Rennes where she was under siege by French troops seeking to incorporate the duchy into the French kingdom. Because Maximilian could not reach Rennes in person, Anne had her marriage concluded by proxy. Anne appealed for help to a coalition consisting of Maximilian, King Henry VII of England and King Ferdinand of Aragon. But French military pressure continued until, eventually, Anne agreed to cancel her marriage with Maximilian and, instead, to wed Charles VIII. After Charles’s death in 1498, she married his successor Louis XII and her daughter Claude married Francis of Angoulême in 1514, who followed Louis XII as Francis I in 1515. Maximilian shelved his plans for a dynastic union between Habsburg and Valois in 1490 and Margaret returned to her father.

To make things worse, Maximilian’s Yorkist relatives were defeated at the battle of Bosworth in 1485. Maximilian hastily supported an abortive rebellion by Yorkist loyalists against the new king, Henry VII. The rebellion collapsed in 1487 but Henry remained a difficult partner for Maximilian. Moreover, Maximilian’s position in the Netherlands remained shaky. Some of the Flemish cities insisted that Maximilian should confirm Mary’s ‘Great Privilege’. But he was reluctant to do so. While his lansquenets were campaigning in Flanders he was engaged in negotiations with urban governments to restore their loyalty by means of diplomacy. Soon his lansquenets’ arrogance sent some cities into revolt. At Bruges angry citizens arrested Maximilian early in 1488 and detained him for about two months until he promised to confirm their liberties. A year later, when his position had been strengthened by his lansquenets’ victory at Thérouanne, Maximilian returned to Bruges, levelled the house where he had been detained to the ground and punished the citizens for their insurgency.4 Meanwhile, trouble was mounting in the empire, and Maximilian was summoned to his duties there. In 1486, Frederick III arranged for the coronation of his son as ‘king of the Romans’, an office that was understood to make apparent the heir to the imperial throne. The ceremony was necessary because in 1485, Matthew Corvinus, king of Hungary, had conquered Vienna, driving Frederick out of his residential capital. Maximilian received the task of restoring Vienna to Habsburg control. At the same time, Frederick placed a further burden upon his son’s shoulders, and that was the crusade against the Ottoman Turkish Empire. In the proclamation announcing Maximilian’s installation as ‘king of the Romans’, Frederick announced that the new king would march against the Turkish sultan in the foreseeable future and requested support from everyone in the empire.5 The crusade, the defence of the Roman Empire and the maintenance of Habsburg rule over the Netherlands remained the three issues that dominated Maximilian’s world and European and local politics to the end of his life.

The old emperor dies and his son succeeds

Pursuing policies at these three levels and with equal rigour proved to be a formidable task. Control over the Netherlands involved fewer difficulties than expected although the relationship with France remained strained. Maximilian succeeded in ending Matthew Corvinus’s control over Vienna in 1490, and Frederick could return home. When Frederick finally died in 1493, Maximilian succeeded to the helm of the empire without any problems, although he never received his imperial coronation from the pope. Yet Charles VIII opened a new front in 1494 by intervening in Italian affairs and leading an army that penetrated into the peninsula as far south as Naples. Although Charles’s efforts to impose himself as a major actor in Italian affairs were soon thwarted by shortages of supply and a want of devoted partners in 1495, the intervention sent shock waves through the establishments of territorial rulers and urban governments as well as into the mindsets of private intellectuals.6 Members of all three groups became beset with the impression that the Italian peninsula was politically divided and militarily weak. They traded on the fear that Italian liberties were at stake and demanded strong measures of defence against possible future invasions. This momentous quest for autonomy raised Maximilian’s concerns because the emperor was legally the overlord of a variety of Italian polities, the most important being the duchy of Milan. Hence, any Habsburg strategy in pursuit of expanding the imperial influence over these polities against France would inevitably trigger anti-Habsburg responses from territorial rulers, urban governments and the intellectual public opinion-makers.

Moreover, even after Charles VIII’s withdrawal the French party continued to have many supporters, specifically in the republic of Venice, at whose formal request Charles had intervened, and in the duchy of Milan, where French troops took control and remained until 1521. Maximilian tried to solve the problem in his own way by using his marriage with Bianca Maria Sforza, niece of Lodovico il Moro, Milan’s ruler from 1476 to 1499. The marriage had been concluded in 1493 in an attempt to secure Milan for the Habsburgs. But Lodovico il Moro had his own strategy for keeping Milan under Sforza sway and used Bianca as a spy. Maximilian kept a distanced relationship with his wife, and the marriage produced no offspring. Yet of all of Maximilian’s burdens, the crusades weighed most heavily because they were costly. More than his father, Maximilian could rely on the Habsburg hereditary lands over which he wielded full control. He could also draw on revenue from the Netherlands as long as he succeeded in persuading the estates that his expenses were necessary and good for the Netherlands. He could also try to make profitable marriage deals, expecting that the dowries would be paid to him. But the crusades demanded more. The ruler of the empire yielded an aura of respect and fame but commanded little control over revenue. At the end of the fifteenth century, the Ottoman Turkish Empire covered large portions of western Asia and the Balkans. The Turkish sultan could draw on support from Muslim rulers in North Africa. In order to have a chance of success, a crusade against this empire needed thorough preparation, long-term financial support and a measure of consensus and stability within the Occident that allowed the pursuit of a protracted campaign without the danger of resurfacing internal rivalries. Even if Maximilian’s position was not entirely hopeless, the prospects for meeting these demands were grim.

Up until the middle of the 1490s, we see Maximilian engaged in diplomatic negotiations to the end of creating this consensus and stability. His efforts reached their first peak during the imperial diet held at Worms in 1495. Towards the end of the fifteenth century the imperial diet was emerging as the highest decision-making institution. It was usually convened and chaired by the emperor. It was attended by those territorial rulers and urban governments in the empire who were regarded as imperial estates (or states). Imperial estates were rulers over land and people within the empire who exercised their control in accordance with traditional privileges that they often called liberties. Territorial rulers as imperial estates were normally not in need of imperial legitimisation. Urban governments as imperial estates could claim rights of self-government and were usually free from control by neighbouring territorial lords and stood merely under imperial suzerainty. All estates could thus take the view that they were free from direct control by the emperor and could make their own decisions with regard to their own and imperial affairs. The diet launched a programme for the reform of the empire into a territorial polity under the control of the emperor, against the resistance by some estates. It also established a special tax to support the preparations for the crusade and laid the foundations for a framework of the peaceful adjudication of conflicts among imperial estates.7 However, after the end of the diet, little happened that could implement this strategic design. For Maximilian, the most pressing need was to achieve his coronation as emperor, and in order to allow the coronation to happen, Maximilian had to establish favourable political conditions in the Italian peninsula. Thus Maximilian became absorbed in Italian affairs, while Charles VIII’s campaign was going on, and postponed the more far-reaching plan. Yet despite all the woes confronting him in his own present, when imperial estates were reluctant to endorse his designs for reforms, and when rulers outside the empire challenged the imperial claim for leadership at least over the Occident, Maximilian had his children as foundations of hope. In 1495, Philip was seventeen and Margaret was fifteen. Thus both were ready for use as trump cards in future marriage deals. At Worms, therefore, Maximilian began negotiations with the Spanish courts.

The new emperor expands his kin network

That Maximilian would cast an eye on the Spanish courts in his search for marriage partners for his children was all but self-evident. True, he was familiar with the Portuguese court through his mother and one of his wife’s grandmothers. But he was ill informed about current affairs in the Iberian peninsula. This can be gleaned from a letter that the Nuremberg physician Hieronymus Müntzer addressed to King John II of Portugal on 14 July 1493. On Maximilian’s behalf Müntzer recommended a westward voyage across the ocean as the nearest and cheapest way to Asia.8 Müntzer used arguments that the Portuguese Junta de Matematicos had previously rejected when Columbus had presented them in the 1480s.9 Hence, Maximilian had no idea that his suggestions were well known at the Portuguese court, and was equally unfamiliar with the fact that, meanwhile, Columbus had returned from his first transoceanic voyage, and was now in Spanish service. Maximilian was also ignorant of the fact that Columbus had landed at Lisbon, where he had been interrogated at the request of the Portuguese king. Finally, he knew nothing of the negotiations between the Spanish and Portuguese rulers going on in the town of Tordesillas in 1494 about the regulation of access to the seaways west of Europe and Africa. The involuntary demonstration of imperial provincialism stands against the suggestion that Maximilian approached the Spanish courts as partners in a marriage alliance with an eye on the expeditions. Moreover, Maximilian had little knowledge of Spanish domestic affairs. At the turn of the sixteenth century, the Spanish peninsula was a promising but difficult terrain. There was no united Spanish kingdom but an agglomeration of the two polities of Castile and Aragon, the latter of which consisted of several units (Aragon proper, Catalonia, Leon, and Navarre, as well as overseas dependencies in Naples and Sicily), each with their own histories and institutions. Aragon was under the rule of King Ferdinand, who had ascended the throne in 1479, whereas Castile stood under the government of Queen Isabel, whose actual reign began in the same year. Isabel took over from her half-brother Henry IV, who had occupied the throne in 1454. Henry IV had a daughter Juana, born from his second wife in 1462. As Henry’s first marriage had remained without offspring, the Castilian court immediately suspected that Juana was actually not the king’s offspring but the daughter of a courtier, namely the Duke of Albuquerque, Don Beltran de la Cueva, and nicknamed her Juana la Beltraneja. Henry IV betrothed Juana to King Alfonso of Portugal and designated Isabel as his successor in 1468 but revoked this designation when Isabel decided to marry Ferdinand of Aragon in 1469. When Henry died in 1474, a war of succession broke out between Isabel and King Alfonso V of Portugal. Although supported by Alfonso, Juana eventually renounced her claims in 1479 and retreated to a monastery where she lived on until 1530. Being recognised as reigning queen of Castile, Isabel could jointly rule the two separate kingdoms with her husband so as to lay the foundations for a future unification under their successors. Their surviving children were four daughters, namely Isabel, Juana, Mary and Catherine, and one son, Juan.

Religious controversy added to dynastic rivalries. Throughout the later Middle Ages, a series of military campaigns in the Iberian peninsula aimed at expelling Muslim rulers whose power base was in the southern region of Andalusia. In the course of the 1480s and early 1490s, Ferdinand and Isabel made joint efforts to conclude these campaigns, which were conducted in the form of a crusade under the name reconquista. Early in January 1492 the emir of Granada, the last of the Muslim rulers in the peninsula, voluntarily withdrew from the city to North Africa without giving up his rights to rule. Spanish armed forces that had been assembled in a camp outside Granada moved into the city. The event marked the end of the military phase of the reconquista and was followed by the forced conversion of Muslims and Jews who chose to stay in the territories now coming under the control of the Spanish rulers. The two rulers manifested their control by establishing an inquisition to investigate whether the converts had in fact become Christians or had merely, by lip service, renounced their previous faiths.

At the Worms Diet, the recent fiasco of the Habsburg–Valois union seems to have induced Maximilian to gather information about other suitable marriage partners for his children. But the Spanish kingdoms were a more complicated case. Maximilian made no explicit statement justifying the expectation that he was acting in pursuit of some grand political strategy although he may have considered long-term prospects.10 In 1495, Juan and Juana were seventeen and sixteen years old; that is, they were excellent matches for his two children, Margaret and Philip. To prevent another dynastic disaster, Maximilian tried to arrange a double marriage of two couples. This arrangement would make the Habsburg–Spanish alliance so tight that it was reasonable to expect that neither political disturbances nor the ravages of death could overthrow the long-term prospects of the incorporation of the Spanish kingdoms into the Habsburg-led system of polities with the empire at its core. From the Spanish side, the deal was equally attractive. Ferdinand and Isabel had married their eldest daughter Isabel to heir Alfonso of Portugal and, upon his death, to his son Manuel I. They had done so to maintain peaceful relations among the polities in the Iberian peninsula and to exclude future rival claims from Juana la Beltraneja. The decision revealed their willingness to join Maximilian in using dynastic relations as instruments of diplomacy. The establishment of kin ties with the imperial dynasty offered the strategic advantages of establishing equality with the Portuguese court. It also helped elevate the ruling dynasties in the Spanish kingdoms to a position of supremacy over the many local Castilian, Aragonese, Navarrese, Leonese and southern Italian aristocratic families with their own seigneurial rights and traditions. Moreover, kin ties with prominent dynasties elsewhere in Europe could position the royal government above the representative bodies (Cortes) where deputies of cities had political participation rights. For the Spanish rulers, Maximilian was as helpful as a provider of glory, honour and fame to the end of promoting the interests of the Spanish rulers as the Spanish rulers were for Maximilian in his quest to demonstrate his capacity for leadership at the helm of the empire. Thus the deal was struck. Juana married Philip in 1496, and Margaret married Juan in 1497. Treaties were carefully drawn up specifying legal details, such as the dowries to be paid and the succession rights to be observed. In accordance with these treaties, Philip became the heir apparent to the throne of the future united kingdom of Spain.

Philip and Juana settled in Ghent, where he was acknowledged as duke of Burgundy and lord of the polities in the Netherlands in succession to his father. They enjoyed the festival culture with its court feasts and tournaments. Philip earned a reputation as a knightly aristocrat, well trained in decorum and pageantry. Unlike his father, he was hardly noteworthy for his interest in government and military affairs, although he developed a certain pride, claiming to be the foremost vassal of the French king, due to his position as the duke of Burgundy. Thus, contrary to Maximilian’s expectation, Habsburg relations with France appeared to improve through the attractive young couple. Juana was a productive woman. Within a period of about ten years, she gave birth to seven children, of whom six survived to adulthood. In 1498, she bore a daughter who received the name of her paternal Portuguese great-grandmother Eleanor. The next child was a son, born on 25 February 1500. He was given the name of his paternal Burgundian great-grandfather Charles. The other children were a daughter, born in 1501 and named after her maternal grandmother Isabel; a boy, born in 1503 and baptised with the name of his maternal grandfather Ferdinand; a daughter, born in 1505 and christened after her paternal grandmother Mary; and a daughter, born in 1507 and given the name Catherine.

When Queen Isabel died in 1504, Philip and Juana were due to move to Spain to take up rule in Castile. The preparations for the journey took some time. Eventually, in 1506, most of the family left the Netherlands en route for Juana’s home through the realms of Philip’s royal lord. Eleanor and Charles were left behind to grow up and receive their education in the Netherlands.

COMING OF AGE IN THE NETHERLANDS

The lives of the Habsburg–Spanish family from 1496 to 1506 resembled a drama wherein a cruel fate removes some of the actors from the scene. Juan was the first to depart. His marriage with Margaret appears to have been happy, too happy perhaps, as the couple devoted most of their time and energy to each other. Only six months after the wedding, Juan died suddenly, apparently of exhaustion. Juan’s early departure buried all hopes for a Spanish succession in the empire.11 Margaret decided to marry again, this time to Philibert of Savoy. As her second husband died prematurely in 1504, he left Margaret widowed and once again at her father’s disposal, but she refused to remarry. The next to go was Isabel, wife of King Manuel I of Portugal. She died without issue in 1498. In order not to jeopardise their reconciliation policy, Ferdinand and Isabel gave their unmarried daughter Mary into wedlock with Manuel. Yet the biggest blow was still to come. While travelling in France in 1506, Philip caught a cold but ignored it. He continued the journey until he arrived at Burgos, where he passed away on 25 September.