A Reluctant Departure and Uncharacteristic Emotion

On January 18, 1532, Holy Roman Emperor Charles V penned an unusually emotional letter to his sister Mary of Hungary, regent of the Netherlands. Writing just one day after his reluctant departure from Brussels toward German territories, the typically reserved monarch revealed surprising vulnerability. “Although I have been away from you for only a short time,” he confessed, “I feel bored and troubled, mainly because I am separated from you. You may well believe that I will not forget the pleasant times spent with you, nor forget you, nor forget my homeland, no matter how distant I may be from it.” This heartfelt admission stood in stark contrast to the emperor’s usual diplomatic correspondence, suggesting deeper personal struggles beneath his imperial duties.

Ten days later, Charles wrote again to his sister, reinforcing his melancholy mood. He expressed continued reluctance at having to leave both Mary and “the land that raised me, for these are things I have every reason to love.” These letters provide remarkable insight into the human side of a ruler who controlled vast territories across Europe and the Americas. At this point in his reign, Charles V presided over the Spanish Empire, the Habsburg Netherlands, the Holy Roman Empire, and extensive possessions in Italy and the New World. The weight of governing this scattered collection of territories required constant travel and absence from places and people he held dear.

The Hunting Accident That Worsened Everything

Charles attempted to alleviate his boredom and loneliness through one of his favorite pastimes: hunting. While traveling through the Rhineland, he encountered a massive herd of approximately 500 deer, which momentarily lifted his spirits. The emperor’s enthusiasm quickly turned to disaster when, during the chase, “the leash of the hunting dogs became entangled around his horse’s legs. The horse reared up, causing him to fall from the saddle, and his foot struck a large rock.”

The emperor himself described the injury with remarkable clarity: “It truly hurt my leg, which although not broken nor dislocated, caused unbearable pain.” Modern examination of his remains centuries later confirmed the severity of this accident. When his coffin was opened in the 1870s, observers noted that “the fracture of one leg had not healed properly, as several bones had interwoven together.” This historical evidence suggests the injury was more serious than contemporary treatments could properly address.

Five Months of Medical Misery

For the subsequent five months, Charles V suffered from persistently poor health. In an unusual display of medical autonomy for his time, the emperor refused standard treatments of bloodletting and induced vomiting—the default approaches for most ailments in sixteenth-century medicine. Initially, his recovery seemed promising without these interventions, but when he resumed hunting against medical advice, his leg swelled, developed ulcers, and caused such pain that it disrupted his sleep.

The situation grew so dire that some court physicians feared he might lose the leg entirely. Doctors prescribed bed rest and a reduced diet, to which Charles responded with frustration: “The treatment and the pain equally torment me.” His medical team, led by Dr. Escoriaza, demonstrated remarkable insight into their imperial patient’s psychology. In a confidential report to the empress, Escoriaza revealed: “He certainly could go out, but we doctors fear that His Majesty would overdo it.” Therefore, “we reached a consensus to resist his will as much as possible.”

The Psychological Toll of Chronic Illness

The possibility of amputation forced Charles to confront his mortality and physical limitations. He confessed to Mary that he had “begun to consider a wooden leg” and admitted, “I do not deny that I am afraid.” Despite this fear, he struggled to follow medical advice, particularly regarding the ulcer on his leg. “I cannot resist scratching the ulcerated area,” he told his sister. This inability to follow treatment protocols came with severe consequences.

Dr. Escoriaza documented the worsening condition: “He itches all over, so he frequently scratches with his hands, especially his legs. The scratching has caused rashes on many parts of his body, even his face.” The emperor’s left eye became inflamed and swollen, requiring him to wear a green eyepatch during public appearances. In private, Charles complained bitterly about his treatment: “They have applied an ointment that makes me look as if I have offended the King of Carnival, because there are more black areas on my face than white ones. Truthfully, I am very angry to have so many illnesses at once.”

According to a frustrated foreign ambassador, the emperor’s only consolation was that “following doctors’ orders, His Majesty does not handle any affairs of state.” This medical-imposed respite from governance responsibilities offered unintended relief from the tremendous pressures of ruling Europe’s most extensive empire since Charlemagne.

A Brief Respite and Subsequent Relapse

By May 1532, Charles believed he had recovered sufficiently to resume some normal activities. He described his new routine: “Now I go to bed early and rise early. I dine at 10 o’clock and afterward eat only one light supper.” Cautiously optimistic, he returned to hunting but soon fell ill again. After “riding for three hours in pursuit of a stag,” he developed a fever. Yet just one week later, he reported spending “two days hunting” and walking “half a league on foot,” which he found “quite miraculous.”

This improvement proved short-lived. While participating in a procession through the streets of Regensburg, Charles “suddenly felt a sharp pain in his leg while speaking with a courtier.” As a precautionary measure, his physicians sent him to nearby thermal springs for treatment. With characteristic humor, he joked to his sister that the spa treatment provided “two great benefits”: “First, I can scratch because the rash has healed; another benefit is that, with the doctors’ permission, I can return to living according to my own habits”—meaning he could again eat and drink as he pleased.

Imperial Duties Amid Health Challenges

Even during his convalescence, Charles could not completely escape the demands of governance. He implemented strict restrictions on visitors, noting, “I now have more leisure because I do not allow outsiders to come here to see me.” Even his principal diplomatic advisor, Nicholas Perrenot de Granvelle, was permitted only brief audiences every other day to present important correspondence, discuss state affairs, and—when possible—obtain the emperor’s signature on documents.

Charles largely abstained from hunting until mid-July, when he reportedly “spent three days tracking a bear.” His improving health coincided fortuitously with emerging military threats that would require his full attention as commander-in-chief. The Ottoman Empire under Suleiman the Magnificent was preparing another major offensive into Central Europe—a development that would test the emperor’s physical recovery and strategic capabilities.

The Ottoman Threat: Historical Context

The mounting Ottoman offensive that Charles would soon confront had been partly provoked by actions taken by him and his brother Ferdinand. Following the successful defense of Vienna in 1529, Ferdinand had begun reclaiming Habsburg territories in Hungary, actions that Suleiman viewed as provocative violations of previous agreements.

This confrontation represented more than mere territorial dispute—it framed itself as a climactic struggle between civilizations. Contemporary propagandists portrayed it as a conflict between “the heir of Charlemagne” , drawing upon powerful historical symbolism to mobilize Christian forces against Ottoman expansion. This rhetorical framing elevated the military campaign to a cosmic struggle between Christianity and Islam, with Charles as the defender of Christendom.

The Ottoman military machine represented the most formidable fighting force of the sixteenth century. Their professional army, advanced artillery, and sophisticated logistics system enabled campaigns deep into European territory. Suleiman’s previous campaign had reached the gates of Vienna in 1529, and intelligence suggested an even larger force was being assembled for 1532.

The Intersection of Personal and Imperial Crisis

Charles’s health crisis occurred at a critical geopolitical moment. The Ottoman advance threatened not only Habsburg territories but the stability of Central Europe generally. The emperor’s physical condition thus became a matter of state security, as his leadership was essential for coordinating the defensive response.

The correspondence between Charles and his sister during this period reveals the complex interplay between personal suffering and imperial responsibility. His detailed descriptions of medical treatments, pain, and frustration humanize a figure often viewed through the lens of political and military achievements. These letters show a ruler grappling with physical limitations while shouldering tremendous responsibility.

Charles’s experience also illuminates sixteenth-century medical practices and their limitations. His resistance to standard treatments like bloodletting suggests either personal preference or perhaps awareness of their ineffectiveness. The detailed descriptions of his symptoms and treatments provide valuable historical insight into Renaissance medicine and its approach to chronic conditions.

Legacy of the 1532 Health Crisis

The health challenges of 1532 had lasting implications for Charles V’s reign and personal life. The leg injury never fully healed, contributing to the physical ailments that would eventually lead to his abdication and retirement to a monastery in 1556. His experience with chronic pain may have influenced his later decisions regarding governance and succession planning.

The successful defense against the Ottoman advance in 1532—despite his health challenges—strengthened Charles’s reputation as defender of Christendom. The campaign culminated in the siege of Güns, where a small garrison held out against Suleiman’s main army, disrupting Ottoman plans and forcing a withdrawal without a major confrontation.

This period also demonstrated the effectiveness of the Habsburg family network, with Charles maintaining close communication and coordination with his brother Ferdinand in Austria and his sister Mary in the Netherlands. This collaborative approach to governance would characterize Habsburg rule for centuries.

Charles V’s health crisis of 1532 represents a fascinating intersection of personal struggle and historical significance. His detailed correspondence provides a unique window into the human experience behind imperial power, revealing vulnerability, frustration, and determination in equal measure. The timing of this personal crisis during a major geopolitical threat highlights the relentless pressures faced by Renaissance rulers and the complex relationship between physical health and effective leadership.

The emperor’s eventual recovery and successful management of the Ottoman threat demonstrated remarkable resilience, but the episode undoubtedly took a permanent toll on his physical condition and perhaps his outlook on power and mortality. This chapter in Charles V’s life reminds us that behind the grand narratives of empire and conflict lie human stories of suffering, perseverance, and the enduring challenge of balancing personal well-being with public responsibility.