arma supersunt,” he had determined, if possible,
to carve his way to glory, to wealth, and even to
his hereditary estates, by his sword alone. War
was not only his passion, but his trade. Every
one of his campaigns was a speculation, and he had
long derived a satisfactory income by purchasing distinguished
prisoners of war at a low price from the soldiers
who had captured them, and were ignorant of their
rank, and by ransoming them afterwards at an immense
advance. This sort of traffic in men was frequent
in that age, and was considered perfectly honorable.
Marshal Strozzi, Count Mansfeld, and other professional
soldiers, derived their main income from the system.
They were naturally inclined, therefore, to look impatiently
upon a state of peace as an unnatural condition of
affairs which cut off all the profits of their particular
branch of industry, and condemned them both to idleness
and poverty. The Duke of Savoy had become one
of the most experienced and successful commanders
of the age, and an especial favorite with the Emperor.
He had served with Alva in the campaigns against the
Protestants of Germany, and in other important fields.
War being his element, he considered peace as undesirable,
although he could recognize its existence. A
truce he held, however, to be a senseless parodox,
unworthy of the slightest regard. An armistice,
such as was concluded on the February following the
abdication, was, in his opinion, only to be turned
to account by dealing insidious and unsuspected blows
at the enemy, some portion of whose population might
repose confidence in the plighted faith of monarchs
and plenipotentiaries. He had a show of reason
for his political and military morality, for he only
chose to execute the evil which had been practised
upon himself. His father had been beggared, his
mother had died of spite and despair, he had himself
been reduced from the rank of a sovereign to that
of a mercenary soldier, by spoliations made in time
of truce. He was reputed a man of very decided
abilities, and was distinguished for headlong bravery.
His rashness and personal daring were thought the
only drawbacks to his high character as a commander.
He had many accomplishments. He spoke Latin, French,
Spanish, and Italian with equal fluency, was celebrated
for his attachment to the fine arts, and wrote much
and with great elegance. Such had been Philibert
of Savoy, the pauper nephew of the powerful Emperor,
the adventurous and vagrant cousin of the lofty Philip,
a prince without a people, a duke without a dukedom;
with no hope but in warfare, with no revenue but rapine;
the image, in person, of a bold and manly soldier,
small, but graceful and athletic, martial in bearing,
“wearing his sword under his arm like a corporal,”
because an internal malady made a belt inconvenient,
and ready to turn to swift account every chance which
a new series of campaigns might open to him.
With his new salary as governor, his pensions, and
the remains of his possessions in Nice and Piedmont,
he had now the splendid annual income of one hundred
thousand crowns, and was sure to spend it all.