Jean Yves de Saint-Prest.

As I’ve said before the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries saw several massive projects to transcribe and publish the contents of royal archives started. It’s quite amazing how many there actually are are. I’ve written already about the imperial historiographer Jean Dumont’s Corps Universel de Droit des Gens, about the need for more historical work to be done on the drive to compile peace treaties that he was part of, and my joy at finding these works made available to scholars over the internet. So I thought today I’d post a link to the text of another compilation, this time the Histoire des Traités de Paix put together by Jean Yves de Saint-Prest (1640-1721) and published after his death in 1725.  What I find particularly fascinating about comparing these works is not the texts of treaties they contain – after all, these tend to be pretty much the same, at least from Dumont onwards. It’s their different rationales for justifying why a study of treaties is important. 

In this respect, Saint-Prest is one of my favourites. His cynical suggestions that ‘one fools men with treaties as one fools children with nuts’ or that they were simply ‘spiders’ webs that are unable to catch flies’ are balanced with the idea that despite their faults, without peace treaties there would be an almost ‘universal upheaval’ between the states of the world; that as a soldier defends his patrie with a sword, so does the diplomat with his pen. There’s something that I particularly like about this passage from the introduction that extends this idea: ‘…que les transactions qu’on nomme Traitées de Paix, etc faites et ratifiées solonellement par les puissances assemblée, établies sur une infinité de précautions, jurées, après des dis cussions sans nombre, sur les Saints Evangiles, au nom de la trés Sainte Trinité, aux yeux de tous les peoples de l’univers, ne soient un necessité si indispensable, que sans elles on verroit bien-tôt un bouleversement universel dans les Etats. Toutes ces circonstances rendent l’étude des Traités de Paix la plus belle etude du monde et la plus nécessaire par rapport au bien public. Ceux qui s’y appliquent par leur plume qu’un habile Général par son épée. De meme que ceux-ci repoussent les violanes d’un ennemi qui attaque à force ouverte, les premiers repoussent les sophisms et les subtilités des perjures, mettent au jour leur mauvaise foi, et renversent leurs chicanes et leurs equivoques.’ (p.I.)

Of course, such sentiments praising the capacity of diplomacy to ‘counter the sophisms and subtleties of the dishonest, uncover their bad faith, and counter their chicanes and equivocations’ are not surprising, considering that Saint-Prest was the director of both the archival dépot of French foreign affairs and the  French diplomatic academy, both newly set up by Secretary of State, the Marquis de Torcy in 1710. What I like about this passage, though, is that it suggests studying peace treaties is not only useful, but also honourable and useful. This is something that is easy to forget. Looking at peace treaties retrospectively, it's much easier to see the equivocations, chicanes and deceptions that lead to the failures of particular agreements than it is the good intentions that led to other.

The Bilbiothèque Nationale in Paris has made Saint-Prest’s editions of treaties available through Gallica. Read/ download it here. Or, if you prefer, there is also a version scanned by the Boston Library of a copy once owned by the American statesman John Adams.

Switzerland

Switzerland occupies a unique position in the history of the idea of peace. Officially politically neutral since the sixteenth century has meant that Switzerland has acquired a reputation for being a centre for peacemaking over the past two centuries. This is particularly true of Geneva, perhaps rivaled only y the Hague as a centre for promoting international law and concord, as it is home to many organisations dedicated to promoting peace or at least limiting the effects of war, most notably the Red Cross, successive Geneva Conferences or, more recently, the Geneva Accord (2003), and the modern laws of war, the Geneva Conventions. And, of course, being the home of the League of Nations it was superseded by the United Nations, which has kept the the League's Palais des Nations as its second-most important office after New York. 

Which is interesting, considering for several hundred years they provided the decisive edge in military conflicts as mercenary troops. The last remnant of the once deeply entrenched tradition of Swiss mercenaries is the Swiss Guards, the bodyguards to the pope. Although they're no doubt more familiar with small arms, they still carry halberds ceremonially, the weapons (along with pikes) that made Swiss troops so useful to those who employed them and so reviled to those who did not.

The reason why this has occurred to me is that I've been looking into where the Swiss fitted into treaty making in the sixteenth century today in which these tensions are evident. The Swiss Confederation occupied a fairly unique in early modern peace treaty practice. At certain points they were included in agreements between other rulers despite having played no part in negotiations for peace; most often, they were included as allies to the French king, although they were also included as being adherents of other principal negotiators. However, at other points articles in treaties made it clear that no signatory to the treaty could enter agreements with the Swiss to provide mercenary troops in order to increase the likelihood that the terms of peace would be kept. 

The effects of the reformation upon treaty making practice are also interesting as far as the Swiss are concerned as at certain points the entire confederacy or individual cantons were excluded (or excluded themselves from particular treaties) in religious grounds. The most notable occurrence of this was the 1598 treaty of Vervins, which was the last European agreement to be made under the protection of the Holy See and not involving Protestant powers. Protestant Geneva, never a part of the Confederacy but an ally of Bern in the  1536 perpetual peace, also provides an interesting example of the increasing confessionalisation of international politics. France intended on having the city included in Vervins. Although it was mentioned specifically by name in the treaty itself, this was made clear when the city asked Henri IV subsequently to clarify their position in the agreement. However, since Spanish monarchs and successive popes were unwilling to enter into any treaty involving Geneva and, since Clement VII's mediation depended upon the exclusion of Protestants, it is unlikely that this sentiment was shared. In this light, it's also interesting that article 56 of the Swiss Constitution still grants the individual cantons the right to negotiate certain treaties with foreign powers 'within the domain relevant to their competencies.'

I've managed to not have to use the printed calendars published in 1839 in any great depth but am glad to have found these online, thanks to the Heinrich Heine University in Düsseldorf. You can find all eight volumes by clicking on this link:  Amtliche Sammlung der älteren eidgenössischen Abschiede.

Treaty of Madrid 1526

Another beautiful visual depiction of an early modern peace treaty this time to illustrate for  the Treaty of Madrid in 1526. This treaty was coerced from Francis I during his "Spanish Captivity" after he was taken prisoner at the Battle of PAvia in 1525. Immediately upon his release he renounced its terms - as he had done in private to his own councillors before swearing to its terms.

The cover depicts the imperial and French arms (above); the second page shows a stylised meeting of the two sovereigns. One interpretation that comes to mind immediately could be that it shows the emperor on the left, offering his hand to Francis, who simply looks at it, unwilling to be reconciled. I'll have to think on the matter more. It could be, after all, a woodcut the printer had that seemed appropriate to be reused to illustrate the text of the treaty.

Follow this link for full access to this pamphlet at the Bayerische StaatsBibliothek.

Treaty of Crépy 1544

An allegorical print of the treaty of Crépy from the collection of the British Museum. This agreement, signed on the 20th September 1544, was between the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V and Francis I, King of France. The treaty itself is in Dumont (IV-2, pp.279ff) and can often be found referred to as the treaty of Crépy-en-Laonnois or as Crespy. I'll try to post a link to a summary of its terms later or write one myself as I can't find one right now. For now, I'll just say that I find this interesting as, unlike several other treaties of the period, Crépy was not commemorated very much in print in France, probably because - as this suggests - its terms were incredibly divisive, particularly as it gave a right to the younger son of Francis, Charles, duc d'Orleans, to either Milan or Burgundy. His elder son, Henry (the future Henry II), repudiated it straight away. The imperial eagle grips the French cockerel in its right claw, making it vomit out several Fleur-de-Lys. Is this a reference to this division, or is it to the fortresses that the treaty tranferred to imperial control? I'm not sure on first reflection...

NAHC