1505 – 1509: Some Unfinished Business
Carolus Rex: Ask and ye shall receive.
******
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” King Louis XII said to me as he enjoyed a glass of very fine red Burgundy on a warm early spring evening in 1506, “why my predecessor Charles never got around to finishing off England and Eire?”
“It was less a matter of decision and more a matter of distraction, really. In the early years it was mostly the state of constant revolt in the provinces, and later it was the lack of a causus belli and the surfeit of other targets. We certainly intended to, but we just never seemed to be able to fit it into the agenda. Why?”
“Well, I was thinking that I really don’t have anything
pressing on the go right now, and I’ve got all of these armies all over the place that are really just sitting on the asses, getting fat, and draining the royal treasury through their upkeep. I was wondering if there was some special reason that I shouldn’t just ship a bunch of them across the Channel and wipe out the last vestiges of those two nations to give them something to do.”
Of such idle conversations are many unusual things wrought.
England, it turned out, had been busy on the diplomatic front and now felt itself secure in a rather lengthy list of allies scattered throughout Europe: Eire, Poland, Tuscany, Sweden and Würzburg could all be relied upon to come to England’s “rescue” should the going get tough. Given Louis’ particular frame of mind that day, I had an inkling that the going was about to get very tough for them.
Perhaps it had been the relatively idle year of 1505 that had put him in such a reflective mood, his only major “achievement” having been to entertain a petition from the cities that requested a reversal of a policy of increased centralization that had been instituted in 1504, during the closing months of the war. To call this an “achievement” is perhaps putting it in too positive a light, as it might be more accurate to state that they blackmailed him into accepting his offer by threatening to band together to destabilize the entire nation if he refused to cave in to their demands. Given the already high degree of centralization, and the necessity to maintain stability at almost all costs, Louis agreed. Later he conceded to me that he would wait a few more years – perhaps seven or eight, and then re-institute the policy but, perhaps, word it in a slightly different way to which they might take less objection (or might not even notice that their powers were being eroded again).
In the rest of Europe, a period of quiet inactivity has set in, with Austria nursing its wounds, and the balance of nations simply content to sit quietly and hope to avoid the now rather well-known voracious territorial appetite of generations of French monarchs. Being a small Germanic state at that time must have been an exercise in daily prayer and perpetual fear. It was into this climate of fear and suspicion that warrior-pope Julius II came into power and began to exhibit an unreasonable paranoia towards the Republic of Venice.
Now it is worth noting that the Republic had not enjoyed a particularly easy last hundred years. After a rather sizable bloodbath in the 1420’s in which Venice had successfully pushed back the early Hungarian advances and fought them to a standstill in the mountains of Istria, they had been subjected to successive waves of attacks. Though, in the end, it had cost Venice more than a hundred-weight in gold to get out of the war, they had defended themselves against the Austrians in the ‘30’s, and then actually pushed the Ottomans back in the 40’s and 50’s in a series of three wars – only one actually initiated by the Republic – and had eventually managed to retain about as much territory as they had begun with in the early 15th C. They had, most assuredly,
not been aggressive whatsoever, and had largely tried to keep their noses out of most of Europe’s matters and had instead tried to build themselves into and then maintain a large and wealthy trading nation. In large part, they had succeeded, as there was no question that Venuto was the largest and wealthiest centre of trade in all of Europe.
It came, then, as something of a surprise when Cardinal Giovanni de' Medici, considered by many to be the right hand man of the Pope, came to Paris and specifically requested an audience with Louis XII on the 9th of May, 1506. Or rather, his visit was only mildly a surprise and stirred up a lot of curiosity. It was the substance of the conversation that he had with the king that was the surprise. It occurred after a rather sumptuous feast had been held in honour of the cardinal’s visit, and was conducted in private in the King’s study. The young cardinal (he was only thirty years old at the time, though he had been made a cardinal at the incredible age of 13) settled back in the plush chair and regarded the king with a quiet calm and authority that one expects to find in a man who is twice his age.
“Your majesty has been most gracious this evening,” Giovanni began.
“It is my pleasure, cardinal. Would you care for another glass of wine, or a sweet pastry, or anything?”
“Perhaps another glass of that delicious Cabernet, your majesty. It is quite superior to most vintages in the Holy Father’s cellars. It seems that his Eminence favours the Spanish Rioja’s at present, and there is little that can be done to shake him of this affliction.”
The king chuckled and motioned for a servant to refill both their glasses. That complete, he dismissed the squire and for the first time since the cardinal had arrived he broached the real purpose of the bishop’s visit.
“His Eminence is filled with a variety of interesting, if somewhat curious notions. I divine that it may be another such notion that has led you to grace our hall with your presence.”
I chose that moment to materialize behind the pontiff’s representative and idly drifted into his field of vision. He seemed only slightly startled, which told me that his sources of information were very good as I had been making a concerted effort since my “reawakening” to limit my “exposure” to anyone other than the king, his field generals, and his closest advisors. Giovanni should not have known about me, and therefore his lack of reaction to the appearance of a ghost in the chamber as he prepared himself to discuss important matters with the king was very telling. He was unsurprised, therefore he
knew about me and that I would likely appear. There was only one highly probable source of that information - the Archbishop of Reims - and that also meant that the archbishop was likely informing the Vatican of some of the more private details of the king’s Privy Council meetings – something to bear in mind in the future. I could almost see the same thought process going on in the king’s mind.
“Indeed, your grace is correct,” the cardinal replied. “The Holy Father has sent me here on a matter of some great urgency.”
“Ah, indeed? And what, pray tell, is so pressing on Julius II’s mind that he would send his most trusted and well-loved representative over all these long miles to converse with a humble and god-fearing King of France?”
“The Republic of Venice.”
The King waited – it was a skill of his. When someone throws out such a surprising response they expect a reaction; they intend to startle. The King gave none of this, and merely passively and levelly regarded de’Medici, adopting an expression that suggested that he was vaguely disappointed at the brevity of the response and had expected more. After a few moments, and betraying a slight hint of annoyance, the cardinal continued.
“They become far too strong; they take too many liberties. They are, very gradually and very quietly, trying to infiltrate Romagna. They have already reduced a number of smaller cities near the border unto their rule, and it is only a matter of time before they declare outright hostilities and march their armies on Rome.”
“Surely you jest?” remarked the king. “They have only barely recovered from nearly eight years of war against the heathen Turq and are hardly in a position to challenge Papal authority over the state. And besides, you have Cesare Borgia to defend you.”
“Signor Borgia is no longer the apple of the papal eye, in fact he languishes, at this very moment, under house arrest in Rome, awaiting trial for treason.”
“Treason? How could such a man be guilty of treason?”
“By refusing to surrender the fortified towns of Romagna directly to the Papal armies, preferring to hold them for himself, that is how; and that is what he did.”
“Hardly surprising, given that it was for the expressed purposes of him ruling those very cities that your pope’s predecessor, Alexander VI, arranged for France to go to war with Austria – a war that was only concluded in our favour only at a very great cost in French lives and gold.”
“Yes, but the man is slowly losing the territories to the perdiferous Venetians. Regardless of all else, those lands must remain in the Papal States, and he was doing precious little to defend them.”
“Very well, far be it from me to debate the inner workings of another King’s nation – or Pope’s nation as is the case here. So through Borgia’s incompetence or negligence, a few small border cities have allegedly been reduced by Venice.”
“There is no ‘allegedly’ about it. They have been reduced!”
“Aye, and I’m sure that never has there been an oh-so-small, oh-so-insignificant border city in Mantua that has found itself under Papal influence in the past. Come now, cardinal, this is called the fluidity of borders. It happens all the time. If it happens a little too often, or a little bit too much in one direction, then you either redraw the border, or you decide to hold your ‘summer manoeuvres’ in the area and contrive to do a little judicious ‘readjustment’ of things. It’s part of the game of the nobility, and when it gets just a little bit out of hand, you find yourself in a war. Let Venice have their taxes for a year or two, and then go take them back. In fact, if you re-instated Borgia then you’d have them back in no time…I may not approve of his tactics on the field, but there is no question that the man knows his siegecraft.”
de' Medici was becoming visible annoyed. “With all due respect, your majesty, do not seek to lecture me as to the ‘fluidity of borders’, or to advise his Holiness as to how to deal with his wayward flock. Cesare Borgia will never again hold sway under Papal authority, of that you may be sure.”
“I doubt it not. But in what way, I ask you, does any of this have to do with the Empire of France? We have pressed no claims beyond our rightful Kingdom of Naples.”
The cardinal snorted, but otherwise did not rise to the bait. “The Holy Father bid me speak to you about an idea of Maximilian’s: to create a ‘League of Camrai’ for the purpose of pushing back the Republic of Venice’s incursions and dealing with their impropriety once and for all. His Holiness subscribes to the notion, as does Firenze, and wishes that the House de Valois and the people of France would lend it their support.”
“And this support would take the form of…precisely what?”
“Troops and money, for all know that France’s armies are the mightiest in Christendom, the largest and best equipped, and your coffers are reportedly full to overflowing.”
“
Are they now? That is interesting indeed. So let me see if I have this straight: The pope wishes me to join this so-called ‘League of Camrai’, created by the Holy Roman Emperor with whom I have just concluded a rather long and drawn out war – which was only initiated due to a specific request by the Pope’s predecessor, I might add – and thus set aside our differences so that we may then commit French blood and French finances to a war with the Republic of Venice - a nation with whom we have no conceivable reason to dislike - so as to force them to stop poaching a city here and there – a natural action - from the ineptitudes of Cesare Borgia and/or his successor. Does that just about sum it up?”
“It is, perhaps, a somewhat slanted view, your majesty, but I suppose it is a more or less accurate one. It would, needless to say, be in the very best interest of your immortal soul…”
“Ah. My soul. Now we get to the heart of it. That changes things completely. So, in fact, this has rather less to do with a minor border squabble between Rome and Venice, and far more to do with the sanctity and preservation of my soul does it? Love thy neighbour and covet not thy neighbour’s cities, eh?”
“Your soul could only know rest having done the Holy Father’s bidding in this matter.”
“I see. Tell me, l’Éminence Grise, what say you to the peril that my immortal soul faces?”
I smiled to myself. Louis knew very well that I had no particular insight into the sanctity or purity of a soul, or the mechanics by which they found their way unto the lord. In my own particular case, in fact, I had rather spectacularly failed to achieve a state of bliss. What the king was asking, in a sideways manner, was what I thought of the advisability of complying or denying the Pope’s request.
“I think,” I began, “that the Pope’s infallibility must be on a temporary hiatus. I cannot fathom a single reason why France should pursue this course of action, nor can I see any way in which your soul could be tarnished by failing to comply with such a blatantly secular border squabble.”
There was a gasp from the cardinal, who turned white with shock, then red with anger, and then finally white with fury once more.
“Heed not the foul words of this devil’s spawn. The lies of Satan fall loudest upon the ears of the weak and sinful, The…”
“GET OUT!” shouted Louis to get the Italian’s attention, and then again he said more calmly, “Get out, and tell your master that We have no interest in his schemes, nor on mending the fences with Maximilian. He must find himself someone else’s armies to fight his war for him, and perhaps he should look to his own coffers before coming to beg from my own. So saith Louis, Roi de France.”
And that was the end of the interview. As word spread, the reputation of the king sunk to an all-time low with the Pope, Austria and Tuscany – not, in fact, that there was much room for it to sink – but the Venetians began to exhibit a far more friendly attitude towards the French monarchy after that, and even agreed to enter into a trading agreement whereby our merchants would cease to compete with one another in the various centres of trade. To ensure that the episode did not unduly affect France’s relationship with our vassal and ally Savoy, or our ally Scotland, the king also lavished each country with a state gift. In both cases this had the desired effect, and they remained very positively inclined towards us.
I suppose that it might be fun to draw out the almost three-year war that followed into excessive detail and great length, weaving it into a tale of great victories and daring deeds. It would be a lie, however. Shortly after Louis’ declaration of war on England on January 1st, 1507 – to which her allies Poland, Eire, Tuscany, Sweden and Würzburg all responded sympathetically - the massed armies of France quickly rolled over the miniscule English army in Anglia, destroyed the meagre defenders of Ulster, smashed the large army of Würzburg and then chased them to hell and back, crippled the Tuscany fleet and annihilated its forces, and…well, you get the picture.
The only moment of potential danger occurred in April of the first year, as spies reported that an army of some 75,000 Poles were headed in our direction. Seeing no difficulty in meeting them in the field with only a third of that number – as the Poles were apparently still arming their men with pikes while we were into yet another new generation of musket – La Palice moved to intercept them with some 26,000 men. The battle was never to take place, though, as the Poles offered a white peace less than a week later – an offer that Louis accepted as he did not have permission to walk through several neutral country’s territories and had no expectation of gaining those concession anytime in the near future.
It took a little while to ferry sufficient numbers of men to Siena and Firenze, which explains the duration of the war, but the succession of annexations was quite rapid in the early part of the conflict. Würzburg was the first to fall, in February of ’08, followed in April by both Eire and Anglia. It was in the sack of London that a most interesting document was found and sent under heavy guard back to Paris. I’ll return to that in a moment.
As the final stages of the war drew to a close, Mainz had revolted and, while we had hoped that the rebels might chose to defect
en masse to France, they chose to side with Hessen instead. Also, in yet another demonstration of ‘fluid borders’ a few small cities were reduced by the armies of Münster to which Louis responded with several reductions of his own. This then escalated into a border dispute that did make the public a little more nervous than usual, but also gave France a legitimate causus belli against Münster for at least the next five years. This was something that Louis chose not to act upon immediately, but it was constantly in his thoughts. It all became, annoyingly, a moot point about seven months later when the suddenly aggressive Hessen annexed it too. To say that this vexed the King would be an understatement. Personally, I didn’t give them a year.
A peace was finally signed with Sweden in April of 1509, whereby 200
francs were paid to our treasury in compensation for the small number of French lives lost in constantly (and successfully) repelling the incursions of the Swedish soldiers in (former) England and northern France. While it would undoubtedly have been nice to prosecute that aspect of the war more fully, the navy was needed in the south and therefore there was no transport available for troops in the north. It was also felt that the navy would need to be considerably enlarged before such an undertaking could be contemplated.
Finally, on November 14th the last city fell – Firenze as it happens – and Tuscany sued for peace, offering Siena and 271
ducats – which amounted to about the same as 271
francs when we weighed out the gold. France was once again at peace…for about 60 days.
Now during the latter half of 1508 and all of 1509, Louis left the war in my capable hands. Considering that it was all but won on the day that it had been declared, this was hardly an honour. But Louis did so for a very particular reason, because all of a sudden he became very preoccupied with the document that had been spirited out of the Tower of London. It was a map; but not just any map. It was a map of every nook and cranny of the world that the monarch of England had known about. Most remarkably, it showed that there was a land lying far to the west, across what had been thought to be an endless ocean that stretched to the ends of the world.
It became Louis’ obsession to explore, map, and - most importantly – colonize this ‘New World’. In fact, he would spend the remainder of his days almost single-mindedly pursuing this goal, and he left the rest of his nation more or less entirely under my control. He would sign documents without even looking at them, half-listen to progress reports that I gave him and then ask me who it was that we were at war with again…it was strange.
In fact, to give you an idea of just how disinterested he was in all things having to do with Europe, I actually arranged for a document to be drawn up that proposed to the Duke of Savoy that his nation cease to operate independently as our vassal and join France proper. It was a joke – a well-written one, mind you, but a joke nonetheless – and I had the clerk who wrote it for me put it in the stack of documents that awaited the king’s attention. My thought was that the king would discover this entertainment and we would share a good laugh about it the next time I saw him. Instead, on December 16th, 1509, I was shocked to discover that Savoy had declared itself to be part of France and had ceased to exist! Apparently the king had never bothered to read the letter, and had merely signed it and sent it out with the next dispatch rider – one who wasn’t in on my little joke.
Oh well. This pursuit made him happy, and it also seemed to distract him from the other large problem that we appeared to be facing: it was 1510, Louis was not a young man, and he had no direct heir. I resolved, the next time I talked to him, to broach the topic. It wasn’t something I was particularly looking forward to.
For some reason I forgot to take a screenie after annexing Savoy. Just imagine it with the green bit in the south of France being blue instead.
