The Thirty Years War, book 2 | Page 3

victims of the war one
after another, and were contented to persecute in the cabinet and in the
pulpit, the enemy whom they could not openly oppose in the field. All
of them, slaves either to Austria or Bavaria, sunk into insignificance by
the side of Maximilian; in his hand alone their united power could be
rendered available.
The formidable monarchy which Charles V. and his son had
unnaturally constructed of the Netherlands, Milan, and the two Sicilies,
and their distant possessions in the East and West Indies, was under
Philip III. and Philip IV. fast verging to decay. Swollen to a sudden
greatness by unfruitful gold, this power was now sinking under a
visible decline, neglecting, as it did, agriculture, the natural support of
states. The conquests in the West Indies had reduced Spain itself to
poverty, while they enriched the markets of Europe; the bankers of
Antwerp, Venice, and Genoa, were making profit on the gold which
was still buried in the mines of Peru. For the sake of India, Spain had
been depopulated, while the treasures drawn from thence were wasted
in the re-conquest of Holland, in the chimerical project of changing the
succession to the crown of France, and in an unfortunate attack upon
England. But the pride of this court had survived its greatness, as the
hate of its enemies had outlived its power. Distrust of the Protestants
suggested to the ministry of Philip III. the dangerous policy of his
father; and the reliance of the Roman Catholics in Germany on Spanish
assistance, was as firm as their belief in the wonder-working bones of
the martyrs. External splendour concealed the inward wounds at which
the life-blood of this monarchy was oozing; and the belief of its
strength survived, because it still maintained the lofty tone of its golden
days. Slaves in their palaces, and strangers even upon their own thrones,
the Spanish nominal kings still gave laws to their German relations;
though it is very doubtful if the support they afforded was worth the
dependence by which the emperors purchased it. The fate of Europe
was decided behind the Pyrenees by ignorant monks or vindictive
favourites. Yet, even in its debasement, a power must always be

formidable, which yields to none in extent; which, from custom, if not
from the steadfastness of its views, adhered faithfully to one system of
policy; which possessed well-disciplined armies and consummate
generals; which, where the sword failed, did not scruple to employ the
dagger; and converted even its ambassadors into incendiaries and
assassins. What it had lost in three quarters of the globe, it now sought
to regain to the eastward, and all Europe was at its mercy, if it could
succeed in its long cherished design of uniting with the hereditary
dominions of Austria all that lay between the Alps and the Adriatic.
To the great alarm of the native states, this formidable power had
gained a footing in Italy, where its continual encroachments made the
neighbouring sovereigns to tremble for their own possessions. The
Pope himself was in the most dangerous situation; hemmed in on both
sides by the Spanish Viceroys of Naples on the one side, and that of
Milan upon the other. Venice was confined between the Austrian Tyrol
and the Spanish territories in Milan. Savoy was surrounded by the latter
and France. Hence the wavering and equivocal policy, which from the
time of Charles V. had been pursued by the Italian States. The double
character which pertained to the Popes made them perpetually vacillate
between two contradictory systems of policy. If the successors of St.
Peter found in the Spanish princes their most obedient disciples, and
the most steadfast supporters of the Papal See, yet the princes of the
States of the Church had in these monarchs their most dangerous
neighbours, and most formidable opponents. If, in the one capacity,
their dearest wish was the destruction of the Protestants, and the
triumph of Austria, in the other, they had reason to bless the arms of the
Protestants, which disabled a dangerous enemy. The one or the other
sentiment prevailed, according as the love of temporal dominion, or
zeal for spiritual supremacy, predominated in the mind of the Pope. But
the policy of Rome was, on the whole, directed to immediate dangers;
and it is well known how far more powerful is the apprehension of
losing a present good, than anxiety to recover a long lost possession.
And thus it becomes intelligible how the Pope should first combine
with Austria for the destruction of heresy, and then conspire with these
very heretics for the destruction of Austria. Strangely blended are the
threads of human affairs! What would have become of the Reformation,
and of the liberties of Germany, if the Bishop of Rome and the Prince

of