and ignominious manner; that all the world held such oaths and engagements to be utterly void, and that, when they were forced upon him, he had told him that they were void, and could not be kept; that he knew very well that he had no power to surrender Burgundy, but that he was quite willing to pay a just amount of money in lieu of it, and another for the ransom of his children.
Charles replied in a strain of great bitterness, and he did not confine himself to words; he put his troops in motion, and, in the first place, advanced to punish the Pope, and break up the Italian confederacy. The Spaniards, from the kingdom of Naples, advanced on one side, and the German and Spanish subjects of the emperor, from Lombardy, Parma, and Piacenza, on the other: there was no French prince to support him, and Clement was speedily compelled to sue for peace. Moncada, the Governor of Naples, signed a treaty with him; and a month afterwards, in a most perfidious manner, in concert with the family of Colonna, surprised the city of Rome, plundered the Vatican, and compelled the Pope to seek refuge in the Castle of St. Angelo. This took place on the 21st of September, 1526; and Moncada and the Colonna princes, finding they could not reach the person of the Pope, made a new treaty with him, and withdrew. No sooner was Clement at liberty, than he declared all the conditions forced from him, by the perfidy and violence of his enemies, were void; and to protect himself, he invited the Count of Vaudemont, who had claims to the throne of Naples, to bring troops from France, and assert his right. To avert this mischief, Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, marched a body of troops against Rome; but this time the Pope was prepared for his reception, having obtained reinforcements from his Italian allies. These allies, chiefly the Florentines and Venetians, repelled Lannoy, entered the Neapolitan states with an army of 6,000 men, and made themselves masters of the greatest part of the Abruzzi and of the city of Aquila, the capital of the province.
So closed the year 1526; and the new year opened with preparations for still more terrors for devoted Italy. The Emperor Charles had no money to maintain the troops necessary for the extensive domination that he aimed at, and he therefore allowed the mercenary troops in his employment, rather than in his pay, to indemnify themselves by the plunder of the wretched inhabitants of the countries where they were collected. These troops consisted of a mob of vagabonds, outlaws, and marauders, from every country in Europe, who, by their long course of licentious freedom, were become utterly callous to the sufferings which they inflicted. Freundesberg, a German soldier of fortune, was at the head of 15,000 of these adventurers, consisting of Germans, Spaniards, and Swiss; and Bourbon, at the head of 10,000 more half-starved and half-clad mercenaries, was in possession of the whole duchy of Milan, but with no means of supporting his position. These two ferocious hordes having formed a junction under his banner, clamoured for their pay. Bourbon told them he had no money, and that Milan had been so repeatedly overrun and ravaged, that it was destitute of all means of supporting them; but that he would lead them into the enemy's country—into the richest cities of Italy—where they might amply indemnify themselves for all their past sufferings. Animated by these assurances, they swore to follow him whithersoever he might lead them.
On the 30th of January, 1527, he marched out of Milan, with this army of hungry desperadoes. They directed their course to the opulent cities of Piacenza, Bologna, and Florence; but the allied army made a rapid movement, and succeeded in covering those towns. But this rush of the allies northward left Rome exposed, and Bourbon pushed forward to seize the advantage. It was time, for his lawless troops, disappointed in their expectations of plundering the cities mentioned, were growing furious, and it required all the authority of Bourbon to keep down the mutiny. Their hopes raised again by his promises, they rushed on in rapid march towards the Eternal City, where they were met by Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, who informed them that he had besieged Rome, and compelled the Pope to make peace, on condition that he prevented the troops of Bourbon approaching the city. At this declaration the clamour in the invading army became terrible. They refused to listen to Lannoy; they threatened to murder him, and called on Bourbon to lead them forward. Bourbon, who was now the sole commander, for Freundesberg had fallen sick, and was left behind at Ferrara, assured Lannoy that it was not possible for him to arrest the march of his troops, for he had no means of satisfying their demands but by the sacking of Rome. The Germans in his army were chiefly Lutherans, and were equally on fire with a desire of destroying the Pope and Rome, and with the hope of the spoil of that ancient seat of pagan and of Christian power. To them it was a holy crusade, made sweet—like all crusades—by the mingled feelings of avarice and fanaticism. They marched on, and on the 5th of May they encamped in the fields of the Eternal City. Bourbon rode amongst them, exclaiming, "Behold yonder churches and palaces, the receptacles of the wealth of the Christian world. Repose yourselves to-night, and to-morrow all that affluence shall be your own!"
With the first light of morning this wild and savage host was on foot, eager to seize the hoarded opulence of ages. A thick fog covered their approach, and they rushed to scale the walls with all the fury of a famishing and sanguinary host. But the walls were well manned, and on every side they were repelled and flung back with such slaughter, that they began to waver and lose heart. Bourbon, perceiving the ominous impression, seized a scaling-ladder, and planting it against the wall, began to mount, calling on his soldiers to follow his example. But a shot from an arquebuse struck him in the groin as he was ascending, and he fell into the ditch. Perceiving that his wound was mortal, he bade those about him to throw a cloak over him, to conceal his death, and to advance and avenge it. The death of their commander, however, could not be concealed. It flew like wild-fire through the host, and, infuriated at the news, they rushed forward with dreadful shouts of, "Bourbon, blood, and slaughter!"
On every side they clambered the walls like maniacs, fighting hand to hand for four hours, and seeing a thousand of their comrades fall around them. In the afternoon they were in entire possession of the suburbs, burst their way across the Sistine bridge, and were in the
