THE LIFE OF Francis OF LORRAINE, DUKE of GUISE. LONDON: Printed for R. Bentley, and M. Magnes, in Russel-street in Covent-Garden, 1681. The Honble. Allexander Grantt, younger of that ilk. To the Right Honourable the Marquis of Worcester, Lord Precedent of Wales, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, and one of His Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council, etc. My Lord, THE extraordinary Obligations this Kingdom has to Your Lordship, having filled all Places with Admiration and Acknowledgement of Your Prudent Conduct and Ministry, I could no longer curb my Zeal, from adding one Voice to the Universal Acclamations, nor hinder it from crowding with this Offering to Your Feet. It is, My Lord, the Life of a Prince, whose Carrier, in some things, lay parallel with Your Lordships. For he was of a most Illustrious Extraction, Graceful in Person, and of Abilities fit both to Advise and Execute in the most ticklish Junctures; yet in this he differed; that he was a Promoter of the Interests of the Court, and Superstitions of the Church of Rome, and Your Lordship a Zealous Maintainer of the Prerogatives of the Crown, and Devotions of the Church of England. For, to You, My Lord, we are principally indebted for our present Calm; by Your Ministry those Alarms are dissipated, that kept us continually in Apprehensions, the Subjects satisfied of the Security of their Religion and Properties, and the Sovereign of the Fidelity, and Loyalty of His Subjects. Insomuch that it is no wonder if we all strive to Celebrate so extraordinary a Patriot, and that I have presumed to make a Public Declaration of the Respect and Zeal with which I am, My Lord, Your Lordship's Most Humble and Most Obedient Servant, F. S. ERRATA. PAge 16. line 8. for Ingenious, read Engeneers. p. 29. l. 15. for were sick, r. were not sick. p. 21. l 1. for in the gathering, r. in the Neighbouring Villages for the gathering. p. 25. l. 25. for and after all, r. and all. p. 28. l. 24. for when r. where. p. 37. l. 25. for Corsebiteers r. Corseleteers. p. 50. l. 5. for Letters r. Patents. p. 61. l. 12. for King r. Kings. p. 119. l. 2. for at r. it. THE LIFE OF FRANCIS OF Lorraine, DUKE of GUISE. THE House of Lorraine is one of the most Illustrious Families of Europe, whether we examine its Alliances, or consider the extraordinary number of great Men that are sprung from thence. Claude of Lorraine was the first of this Name, who came and settled in France, where he married Antoinette de Bourbon, the King of Navarre and Prince of Conde's Aunt. He was one of the greatest Captains of his Age; and it was in favour of him, that King Francis the First Erected the County of Guise into a Duchy, an honour which, till then, had been reserved only for Princes of the Blood. Claude had several Children, the Eldest of whom was Francis, whose Life we write. He made his first Apprenticeship under his Father, and was in the Army that was sent to Therovenne, under the Conduct of Anthony Duke of Vendosme. It was easy to judge then, what he afterwards proved to be. He distinguished himself from the young Persons of his Age, by his Valour, and the vivacity of his Wit; insomuch, that they already considered him as their Chief, and took it for an honour to follow him in all occasions. As that Army was only drawn together to put relief into Therovenne, Guise went into the Town by reason it was nearer the Enemies than the Camp, and was followed by Laval, Saint Andre, Dampierre, la Chataigneraye, and all the young Persons of Quality in those Troops. He was daily out upon Parties, and never returned without some considerable advantage. In short, he acquired in a little time so great a Reputation, that he raised a jealousy, even in the Duke of Vendosme his General. He received two great wounds in his Youth: the first at the Siege of Luxembourg, where he had his Ancle-bone shot through with a Musquet-bullet: and the Second at Boulogne, which happened in this manner. Francis the First had an Army before Boulogne, which the English had taken a little before, and though the Siege was not yet form, there were daily great Skirmishes between the French and them. Guise being one day gone forth to see one that was very warmly disputed, he observed that the French were hardly able to resist any longer, and that they were going to be cut in pieces by a Troop of English, who were coming to charge them in the Flank. Then without considering that he had scarce any body with him, he galloped directly towards this last Troop, routed those he first met with, and put a stop to the others, less by the force of his blows, than the amazement they were in at so bold an action. But as he valiantly opposed their Efforts to give the French time to rally. He was struck with a Lance which run into his Head, between his Nose and right Eye, and which being broken with the violence of the blow, lest all the Iron with a piece of the Wood in the wound. He was no more stunned with this wound, than if he had not felt it: He did not so much as lose his Seat, and returned to the Camp as if he came back from a match of Hunting. His Life was long despaired of; but at length he was cured, and with that success, that his Face was not in the least disfigured by this accident. Which is, perhaps, what made the Historians of that time, believe that there was something miraculous in that Cure, which some attributed to the happiness, others to the misfortune of France, according to the different Sentiments they had of Guise. Henry the Second being come to the Crown; Guise, in the flower of his Age, saw himself raised at one clap to the highest degree of favour, and shared all the Authority of the Government with the Constable of Montmorency. These two Lords had very diligently applied themselves to the King, even when he was no more than Dauphin; but though they seemed to be equally in favour of their Master, they made their Court to him however, after a very different manner. The Constable was very old. He had governed the Kingdom, during several years under Francis the First, and had been in four Battles, wherein he had acquired much honour. Thus seeing no one above him, either for Affairs, or for War, he only thought of maintaining the Peace, that he might enjoy in repose his Reputation and his Grandeur. He applied himself wholly to his Master, but had no regard for any body else; and thinking that his fidelity ought to serve him instead of all things, he often dispensed himself from those little Complaisances that are requisite to be had for Sovereigns, even when we render them great Services. His Counsels had ever something of that severity, which is ordinary to old Men, and which was natural to him; and they were often contrary to the humour of the Prince, who being young and liberal, loved pleasures and magnificence. Guise on the contrary, of the same age as his Master, and having the same inclinations, rendered himself useful in Affairs of importance, and agreeable in Divertisements. He performed, to a wonder, all exercises of the Body, which the Prince was a passionate lover of; and as with a wit supple and capable of all things, he had a secret ambition which made him carefully seek for all occasions to please; he always entertained the King according to his humour. He spoke to him at the same time of the Siege of a place and the design of a Tournament, insomuch that Henry finding in one and the same Man, what might both contribute to his Glory, and his Pleasure, was so taken with him, as not to be able to be without him. Thus we may say of Henry, in respect of Guise, and the Constable, what was said of Alexander in regard of Craterus and Hoephestion, that he honoured the former, but that he loved the other. He sent each of them with an Army of between four and five thousand men, to appease a furious Sedition, that was kindled upon account of Taxes, in Guyenne, and the neighbouring Provinces. Their Conduct was as different as their humour. The Constable came to Bourdeaux, where he left terrible marks of the displeasure of a Prince justly irritated. Guise overrun Saintonge, Poitou and Aunis. He pacified all things without using violence, preferring the pleasure of seeing the people return to their Duty, to the glory of having reduced them by the severity of punishments; and when he was come back to the King, he moved him to moderate several too severe punishments that the Constable had imposed upon the inhabitants of Bourdeaux. This Conduct begun from that time to acquire him the affection of the People, which so augmented afterwards, that we may say it was even to excess. It was than he married Ann, Daughter of the Duke of Ferrara, and of Rinse of France, they say, that having always affected to pass for one of the Royal Family, he took the name of Anjou in the Contract of marriage, which was Signed a Ferrara. This is most certain, that several Writers of that Country making mention of the Duke of Guiso, and of the Cardinal his Brother, give them the name of Anjou, which they never durst have taken in France, and which those foreign Authors would never have bethought themselves of giving them, if they had not made appear that it was pleasing to them. The War being broke out between the King and the Emperor; it seemed that Fortune was grown weary of having so long favoured Charles the Fifth, and that she was willing to repair in the Person of Henry the injustices she had done to Francis the First. The Constable took in the Cities of Metz, Toul, and Verdun. This was as the Signal of so great a change; and the Emperor was so lively concerned at this loss, that from that time he thought of retiring from the World: but to appear great even in his retreat, he resolved to signalise it by some considerable exploit that might be as the End and Coronation of all those he had performed during his Reign. And to that intent he resolved to recover Metz, and neglected nothing of all that might assure the success of so important an enterprise. He drew together all the Forces he had in Spain, in Italy, and the Low Countries: He raised all Germany, and protested to the Princes in his Army, that he would sooner cause himself to be interred at the foot of the Walls of the Town, than raise the Siege. Henry was alarmed at all these preparations; and his oldest Captains did not believe that place was able to hold out a Week against all the Forces of the Empire, with which it was menaced. He chose Guise for so glorious and so difficult an Employ, and gave him by this choice, the greatest mark he was able to give him of the esteem he had of his Valour and his Conduct. Guise thereupon departed, after having received his Orders, and passing through Toul, notwithstanding the Plague was then in that Town; he caused the Fortifications to be repaired, and gave several necessary Orders for the security of the place: in short, he arrived at Metz about the end of the Month of August, in the Year, 1552. He was received by Gonnor, the Governor of the Town, who came to meet him at the head of his Troops, accompanied by the Duke of Nemours, the Vidame de Chartres, and Luxembourgh Martigues. The Town of Metz is watered on the North and West, by the Moselle, which divides itself into two Branches, the one whereof comes into the Town by the means of a Cannal which brings it thither; the other passes by the Walls: the Seille does the same on the East and South. Thus it is almost wholly included between two Rivers, if you except that part which is between the South and West. Guise having visited the place, found it unprovided of all that was necessary for the supporting a great Siege. This Town having been long lulled asleep in a profound Peace, there was hardly any thing that relished of War. Its compass being between eight and nine thousand Paces, was only guarded by a single Wall, without a rampart behind, and by consequence incapable of resisting the least efforts of Cannon; the Moats were partly crumbled, and partly taken up with the buildings of private Persons. In short, nothing was seen but Gardens, and Houses of pleasure, in places where nothing ought to have been seen besides Bastions and Halfmoons: The Granaries almost empty, the Gunpowder forty years old, and in a very small quantity; very little Artillery, and for the most part so ill cast, that it was hardly fit to be made use of. The Harvest being then gathering in, and the Vintages going to begin, had caused all the labouring people to leave the Town, and there was hardly left for the carrying of Earth, any besides Women and little Children. However, an extraordinary diligence was requisite for the repairing all these defects before the Emperor came. They begun with beating down the Houses that were upon the Town Walls, and which took up the place of the Rampart: They ruined the Gardens and the Buildings in the Suburbs, that might have been serviceable to the Imperialists: Insomuch, that during some days, Metz had rather the air of a City that was in the power of its Enemies, than of a Town that prepared to repulse them. Guise knew so well how to gain in that occasion the hearts of the Inhabitants, by his sweetness of behaviour, an eloquence, that was natural to him, that those persons whose houses were taken down were so far from complaining, that they themselves helped the Soldiers; and preferring the public good to their private interests, they willingly bore with, for the defending their Town, the same damages they might have been afraid of, in case it had been taken. Guise was every where himself, ordering all, disposing the Works, hastening the Labourers, and eating with them at the Carriages, to save the time that would have been spent in going to his own House: He himself would needs carry the Dosser for some hours every day; and thus having, as we may say, rendered this Trade noble by his example, there was not one but took a pride in it: Insomuch, that in a short time the Works were in a much greater forwardness than they durst have hoped they could have been with a greater number of hands. Not but that Guise knew well enough, that it was almost impossible to put the Town in a posture of Defence: He even told his particular Friends, that he observed several very dangerous places, which the ingenious did not take notice of; but that it was to no purpose to speak of them, at a time when they could not be repaired, and that it would only help to make them known. He spared neither Cares, nor his Money, nor the Benefices of his Brother, which were not far distant, and ordered his ousiness so well, that in a short time there was Ammunition enough in the City for the maintaining a Siege of a whole year. He likewise made provision of a great number of Gabions, Beams, Sheds of Board's, Sacks full of Wool and of Earth, that he might thereby supply what should be wanting to the Fortifications, and be always in a posture of defending the Breaches. There was in the Suburbs a great number of Churches, which might have served the Besiegers for a Platform to plant their Cannon. Guise caused some of them to be taken down, and contented himself with propping the others, by having Beams put in place of the Pillars, which supported the Vaults, that it might be easy upon occasion, either to re-establish them by raising up the Pillars that had been taken down, or overturn them by setting fire to the supporters of Wood; as they were constrained to do fifteen days after. But there was necessity of ruining entirely the Abbey of St. Arnould, which commanded a whole Quarter of the City. It was considerable both for its Antiquity, and the Tombs of a great number of Princes of the Family of Charlemagne, from whom Guise boasted that he was descended. He caused their Bodies to be removed into the City, with the Relics and the sacred Vessels, having ordered for that end a general procession, at which he assisted bareheaded, and with a Flambeau in his hand, as making a kind of reparation for the disorders which the War obliged him to against his will, and for appeasing the people, who never suffer without regret the destruction of those great Edifices, which they look upon as marks of Nobility and Grandeur. He afterwards put out of the Town all unnecessary Persons, permitting those who went away, either to carry with them their moveables, or to leave them with an Inventory, which he charged himself with the rendering an account of at the end of the Siege. He suffered the Soldiers to have neither Horses nor Servants, but what they had absolutely an occasion for; forbidding any one to lay hand to Sword for private quarrels, upon pain of having their hands cut off. After having spent the day in giving orders, and causing them to be put in execution, he employed what time he had left, in exercising the twelve Companies of Foot he had found in the City, and who had not yet bore Arms. But these were not the only cares he was possessed with. Albert marquis of Brandenburg was near Metz with an Army of twenty thousand men, chaffering between the Emperor and the King, and ready to side with them who should offer him most, or, to speak more properly, waiting for an occasion of rendering himself useful to one or other of the two Parties. Thus Guise was obliged to live in appearance with him, as with a Prince who gave Testimonies of his being for the King's Interests, and who indeed might have been very useful to him; but at the bottom he disinherited him as a Traitor, who only waited for an opportunity to seize the Town, and sell it very dear to the Emperor. And indeed he made several Trials, which only tended to that end; sometimes making ridiculous demands, as when he made a proposal to Guise of coming out of the Town to confer with him, sometimes making such complaints as there was no ground for, and in which it was impossible to give him satisfaction. But Guise knowing the man he had to do with, and the reasons there were to manage him; he governed himself so dexteroufly, sometimes granting one thing, and sometimes not seeming to see others, that he broke all his measures, without giving him the least reason to complain. In the mean while the Emperor's Army approached, which Guise having had notice of, he recalled his Cavalry, which he had left till then in the gathering in of the Harvest, and to spare the Provisions of the Town: He ordered them to break down all the Mills that were in the Emperor's way, and to burn all the Ammunition that they were not able to bring along with them. The Duke of Alva came with fourteen thousand men within half a League of the Town to view it. Guise knowing of what importance it is to a Commander, in the beginnings of a great Enterprise, to inspire his Soldiers with a contempt of the Enemies, and the Enemies with a dread of his Soldiers, caused Strozzy to sally out with a small number of chosen men. The Skirmish lasted longer than was expected. Strozzy withstood the effort of the Enemies, who were relieved three several times; and after having killed two hundred of their men, he returned to the Town, having lost but five of his. On the morrow Guise received a Letter from Lewis d' Avila General of the Spanish Cavalry. He redemanded of him a Slave who had made his escape into the Town, with a Horse of great value that he had stolen from his Master. Guise sent him back the Horse, after having paid for him to the man whose House he had found him at; but as for the Slave, he made answer, he should never think of sending back a man who was become free by setting foot upon the Territories of France, nor violate the most glorious privilege of the Kingdom, which consists in restoring all those to their liberty who come to seek it there. The King having sent thrice to Marquis Albert to treat of an accommodation with him, and receiving only general answers, and which signified nothing, he begun to consider him as an Enemy. This hindered the Troops and Artillery from passing to Metz, that were to be sent thither, by reason he was posted upon the way. The Duke of Holstein was already before the Town with Aiguemont and Brabanson, who had brought an Army from the Low Countries: His Quarters were at the Mount de Chastillon; the Duke of Alva with his possessed the Abbey of St. Arnould: Albert, after having defeated the Forces of the Marquis o' Aumale, who had attacked him indiscreetly, and having taken D' Aumale himself Prisoner, made without difficulty his Treaty with the Emperor, and quitting the white Scarf for the red, he came and encamped at the Mount St. Martin with all his Troops. Thus Guise, having only a small number of men in a great and ill fortified Town, saw himself besieged by three Armies that mounted to above a hundred thousand Foot, twenty three thousand Horse, a hundred and twenty pieces of Cannon, and seven thousand Pioners. The truth is, that he reckoned much more upon those he had with him, than he should have done upon a much greater number. The rumour of this Siege, and the glory that was there to be acquired, had drawn several Volunteers, and all the considerable Persons of Quality in the Kingdom. There were three Princes of the Blood, Anguien and Conde, Brothers to the King of Navarre, and Charles' de la Roche-yon their Cousin; the Grand Prior of France, the Marquis d'Elborut; Guises his Brother, James of Savoy, Duke of Nemours, Francis of Vendosme, Vidame of Chartes, Montmorency, and Danville, the Constable's Sons Horace Farneze, Duke of Castre, and several others whose names are found in particular Relations. Guise was not ignorant what he might expect from so many brave men; but he knew likewise very well how difficult it is to rule Volunteers, who usually thinking how to make appear their valour, pretend to serve after their own mode, will be in all places, and almost ever render themselves useless by their over-eagerness for too great performances. Wherefore he shared the Compass of the Walls amongst all the Princes and Lords in the Town: He made them agree that every one should keep the Post that should be allotted him, without undertaking to be in other places; and ordered, that all the Volunteers should choose Companies, wherein they should perform the duty of Soldiers, obeying their Captains, and doing nothing but by their orders, upon pain of being put out of the Town. The Emperor having made some stay at Thionville, at length arrived at his Camp, and had his quarters in the Castle of Lorgne, behind the Abbey of Saint Arnoul: His presence having redoubled the ardour of his men, and after all his Artillery having been planted, they battered the Town after the most furious manner that was ever heard of. They fired in one day alone, forty thousand Shots of Cannon, against that part of the Wall that is between the Platform of St. Mary, and the Gate of Champagn. This horrible Tempest continued for several days with the same fury, and with so great a noise, that Historians do assure, that it was heard forty Leagues from the Town. The Besieged did oppose such violent efforts with an invincible courage, and a continual labour; Men and Women, Soldiers and Citizens being equally animated by the example of Guise, who found nothing below him, but spent Days and Nights in carrying Earth to repair the Ruins the Artillery had made, and to prevent those it might make. At length the Tower of St. Michael, and that of Lignieres, not having been able to resist the fury of the Cannon, were beaten to Powder: That of Vassieux was almost totally ruined; and in a few days after the whole Pan of the Wall that was between those two Towers, of about a hundred and twenty paces in length, was overturned into the Falsebray. But the French not being of a humour to spend their time in defending themselves against Cannon Bullets, and repairing Breaches, caused Sallies to be daily made; and more Besiegers than besieged, they went to seek out their Enemies in their very Tents. Guise himself chose those who were to sally out every day; he stayed at the Gate with a body of reserve to second them, in case they were too much pressed: and when they returned, he received them with that sweetness, which is so agreeable in persons who are raised above others, and gave them Commendations, which both recompensed and augmented their valour. And indeed this Conduct made his Men do things that are hardly credible. A Sergeant was seen with his Halberd, and followed only by five or six Soldiers, to clear a Trench, and drive from thence above three hundred Men: others went and nailed the Artillery, after having killed the Cannoneers upon their very Cannons. An infinite number of such like actions may be seen in the Relation that Salignac has given of that Siege. Guise from thence concluded, that the Emperor would not easily become Master of the Town. He wrote to the King, whom this Siege put in pain, that his Majesty might turn his Arms where he pleased, and that he undertook to defend Metz ten Months entire. The King having received this News, caused his Army to march into Picardy, when he very luckily recovered Hesdin. The Emperor's Army had been already two Months before Metz without doing any thing, and were hardly able to resist any longer against the rigour of the Winter, against Famine, and the diseases the Camp was full of, and the continual Sallies of the besieged. This Prince seeing that the courage of his Men did daily diminish with their strength; that there was a vast number whom misery and cold had rendered uncapable of serving; and that of those who were sick, some quitted the Camp, others threatened to leave it: He resolved to try at length a general Assault; The breach was sufficiently great, and the Soldiers cried daily that they might be led to it, rather than suffer them to perish thus miserably by hunger and cold. Guise being informed of this design, and seeing the Enemies were ranging in Battle, he on his side prepared to receive them. He gave his Orders with that cheerfulness which is so necessary for inspiring courage into Soldiers, who being not for the most part capable to judge of things by themselves, seek in the looks of their Commander for what they are to hope or fear from the success of an enterprise. He was ever saying something that was obliging to all those he met with, sometimes commending the valour of some, and then again, promising recompense to others. In short, all the brave Men in the Town being assembled upon the Rampart, Guise showing them that long space of Wall that was battered down, and through which the Enemies were preparing to mount; I am overjoyed, Gentlemen, said he, to see that the Enemies have at length overturned that Barrier which put a stop to your Courage, and which was more useful to them than to us. It is very just, that after you had been so often to seek them out in their very Camp, they should at least come once, and take a view of this City, which they boasted they would so easily Conquer. Here is now an occasion of acquiring the Glory, which they will not often offer to you. Take advantage of it, Gentlemen, and acquaint all Europe, that have at present their Eyes upon you, that it has not been impossible for a small number of Frenchmen, to put a stop to an Emperor who besieged them with three Armies, who vaunted that the Pillars of Hercules were not capable to put a stop to his Career. In the mean time the Emperor caused his Soldiers to advance; but they had no sooner perceived the French in the Breach, and Guise at the head of them, than that they gave back, as if the French were coming to attack them. It was to no purpose he joined Prayers to threatenings; it was not in his Power to make Soldiers advance that were trembling, and full of all they had seen performed during the Siege: they were fain to carry the Emperor back to his Tents, out-raged with grief, and crying that he was abandoned, and had no longer any Men about him. This enterprise having had such ill success, he had nothing left, but the despair of being obliged to raise the Siege. Famine, Cold, Diseases, and the continual Sallies of the Besieged, had caused above a third part of his Army to perish. The rest could not be saved otherwise than by a Retreat, which he was forced to resolve of, notwithstanding all the Oaths he had made of taking the Town. It was than he was heard to say, That Fortune abandoned him to run to his Rival, who was younger than he. Perhaps, never was a more shameful Retreat seen. The Emperor, who, it may be said, made his escape to Thionville, had before his departure the vexation of seeing those he besieged come and kill his Soldiers in the very sight of his Quarters. The Duke of Alva dislodged in the Night, without beat of Drum, leaving all the Ammunition in the Camp, and all the Tents standing. Guise having caused four pieces of Canon to be brought into a little Island, he pointed them against the Tents of Albert, and quickly commanded him to follow the rest. The Besieged did not fail to sally out after them; but their Fury was quickly changed into Compassion: They found in the Camp that was newly abandoned, all they could have found most dreadful in a Field of Battle, where a great Army had been cut to pieces, a horrible multitude of diseased and wounded; the Earth covered with the Dead, and dying, weltering upon one another in the dirt; the Bodies of those they had buried, lying half out of the Earth, with which they were ill-covered. Those who were retreated were not in a much better condition. Most of them cast away their Arms, as not having strength to carry them any longer, and being hardly able to support themselves. The Prince of Roche-sur-Yon having overtaken some Troops of Spanish Cavalry, and offering to fight them, their Commander turning towards him, How do you think, said he to him, we should have Force to fight? You see that we have not enough left to run away from you. Guise made appear as much Humanity in this occasion, as he had shown Valour and Conduct, during the Siege. He gave orders for the Burial of the Dead that were in the Camp. He caused the Sick to be brought into the Town, and having distributed them into Hospitals, he appointed Money to be given them for their return home, when they were recovered. He sent back to the Duke of Alva all such of his Domestics as were Prisoners, and offered him as many covered Boats as he should have occasion of, for the carrying his Sick to Thionville. Thus Guise stayed the Emperor three Months before a Town, that did not seem to be in a posture of resisting one moment, against all Forces, with which it was attacked. He gave such good Orders, during the whole Siege, that the Enemies durst never mount to the Assault, though the Place was but imperfectly fortified: While that with a small number of Men, he daily made Sallies, which did more damage to Charles his Army, than the loss of a Battle could have done. He appointed a general Procession for the rendering thanks to God; and to complete that Ceremony by, as he would have it, an agreeable Sacrifice, he caused all such of Luther's Books as were found in the Town, to be publicly burnt. After which he recalled the Inhabitants who had absented themselves during the Siege, and reestablished the usual Policy: and having, as well as he could, made amends to those who had suffered any damages, he returned to Court. The following Year the King having overrun the Low Countries with an Army of Fifty thousand men, used all possible means to come to a Battle, before the Emperor's Army should be strengthened by the Succours that were coming to him from Germany. He besieged the Castle at Renty, concluding that the Emperor not being far distant, would run immediately to raise the Siege. He was not mistaken in that Conjecture. Guise went to view the Town, and had like to have been killed by a Musket Bullet, which pierced his clothes; and the Emperor being come to encamp within a League of the Town, the French resolved to take the advantage of an opportunity they had so long waited for. The two Armies were separated only by a Hill, which concealed them from one another. Upon this Hill there was a Wood, which neither Party had yet possessed themselves of; notwithstanding that it was extremely necessary to them both: but it was principally to the Imperialists, whose Artillery might have incommoded extremely the French Kings Army in the Valley at the bottom of this Hill, and without further trouble would have obliged him to have raised the Siege. Guise making no doubt but that the Emperor would send men to take in that Post, caused three hundred Harquebusiers, whom he himself had chosen out, to be concealed there, and placed some Corsebiteers before the Wood on the Enemy's side, that he might the more easily draw them into the Ambuscade, by Retreating when they should be Attacked. The Imperialists fell into the Ambuscade, and were repulsed with a very great loss; but the Emperor hearing the noise of the Artillery, with which the Castle was continually battered, resolved to make an Effort for the securing it, and to hazard all for the driving the French from their Post. He drew up his Army in Battalia, and sent two thousand Horse, four small Field-pieces, and four thousand Harquebusiers, to dis-lodge those who were in the Woods. Guise advanced to second them with some Troops of Horse, while that the King, to whom he had caused notice to be given, did himself dispose and prepare his Army for the Fight. Guise caused his Harquebusiers to retire, and Retreated himself by little and little, that he might oblige the Imperialists to traverse the Wood, and draw them into a little Plain, which was on the other side of the Hill, and near the French King's Quarters. They took this Retreat for a Flight, and no longer doubted of the Victory. Gonzagues sent word to the Emperor, that he should cause his Army to march in all haste, and that the Vanguard of the French was put to rout. All the Imperial Army advanced immediately, with four small pieces of Cannon, which were called the Emperor's Pistols, because they were mounted upon four Wheels, and were easily turned on all sides. The first Battalions of the Enemies already appeared out of the Woods, and fired upon those of the French Army, when that Guise seeing-them at length where he wished them, came to the Head of his Regiment, that was most advanced in the Plain, and gave the Signal to the Duke of Nemours to begin the Charge. This first Attacque was very furious, and the French were sharply repulsed with the loss of several Officers. But Guise and Nevers having rallied their Troops, and being seconded by all the Light Cavalry, commanded by d' Aumalle, they routed the first Battalion of the Germans: And the Duke of Nevers with his Regiment falling then upon, the Spanish Harquebusiers, who were not able to resist him, all the Enemy's Army was put to rout. The Count of Vulfenfourt was obliged to fly as well as the rest; though he had promised to tread the French Gendarmes under Feet, with two thousand Rheistres, or Germane Horse he Commanded; and who to appear the more terrible, had horribly coloured their Faces with black. The French gained in that Battle seventeen Ensigns Colours, five Cornets, and the four Field-Pieces that were brought into the Wood, and the Emperor's Pistols. About two hundred men were slain on their side, and two thousand on the Enemies. However, the Spaniards, if we may believe the Count of Rocca, who has written the History of Charles the Fifth, imagined some time after that it was they who had gained the Victory; insomuch that Don Lewis d' Avila distrusting, perhaps, the Testimony that the Historians give thereof, caused that Battle to be painted in his Countryhouse, where the French were seen flying from their Enemies: And that Charles the Fifth, through a modesty which the Author of his History does not sail to commend him for, was of Opinion the Piece should be reform, and that they should draw the French making a Retreat; because, said he, it was rather an honourable Retreat, than a shameful Flight. That day gave Birth to the hatred that broke out afterwards, between Guise and Admiral Chastillon, and which has had such fatal Consequences. These two Lords had been such Friends, during their Youth, as that they were not able to live without one another, wearing the same Colours, and dressing themselves after the same manner. This ardour begun to cool, and Guise complained, that the Admiral had given him insincere Counsels, in an affair of importance. The Admiral, whether through Resentment or Envy, reported after the Battle, that Guise was not to be found where he ought to have been, during the Fight. They thereupon quarrelled in the King's Chamber, who commanded them to embrace, and be as good Friends as formerly: but these kind of Injuries are never forgotten, nor are they ever pardoned. In the mean time a Truce was made for five years, between the Emperor and the King. But Cardinal Caraffa would not suffer it to last long. This turbulent and restless Man, being shocked with all that had an appearance of Peace, reported every where, that the King could not make an agreement, having an offensive and defensive League with his Uncle. He came Legate into France, and made so much noise against the Truce, that he made the King resolve to break it. The Council were in no wise for this Rupture; neither was it on that side that the Cardinal had made his Cabal. He gained the fair Duchess of Valentinois, by his Gallantries, and the fine presents he made her from the Pope and himself. She persuaded the King to War, both out of acknowledgement to the Legate, and that Guise might have the Command of the Armies, with whom she had contracted a great Friendship. Caraffa assured him of the Conquest of the Kingdom of Naples, which the Pope promised him the Investiture of, and to which all those of the House of Lorraine have always had pretensions. Guise being naturally ambitious, suffered himself to be easily flattered with the hopes of a Crown; and he was likewise drawn in by the Counsels of the Cardinal of Lorraine his Brother, for whom he had ever too much deference. This was a violent Man, and to whom nothing appeared difficult; hold to undertake all things indifferently; and often abused the Authority of his Brother, that he might bring his own designs to pass. The King not knowing how to deny the Duchess, sent only for form sake to the Emperor, and to Philip his Son, who was then King of Spain, to exhort them to withdraw their Troops out of the Territories of the Holy See. This Proposition was received as a Declaration of War; and Guise full of great hopes, marched into Italy, at the Head of fifteen thousand Men. He was looked upon as one of the greatest Generals of his Age, and beloved as the most Civil, best Bred Person of Quality at Court. Thus almost all the Nobility of France attended him in this expedition; some to learn their Trade under so great a Master; others to acquire Glory under a Commander, who being sure of his own, bore no envy to that of his Soldiers. It is in this occasion that it must be confessed, that all the times of the Lives of great Men are not alike; for it is certain that Guise did not perform, in that War, all that was expected from him, whether he had not the Succours he ought to have had, or that he was so happy, as not to be able to succeed in a War that appeared manifestly unjust. He immediately attacked the City of Valenza, which he took without difficulty, and made but a kind of sorry answer to the Emperor's Lieutenant, in the Land of Milan, who complained of the infraction of the Truce. After the taking of Valenza, the Council of War was of Opinion, that advantage should be taken of the general Consternation, and of the want of Men at that time in Milan. It is certain, that Guise might easily have conquered it: But he would never be persuaded to stay, notwithstanding the remonstrances that were made him; whether, as he said, he had most express Orders to march on, or that the Idea of the Conquest of the Kingdom of Naples did not permit him to think of any thing else. Perhaps, one of the Reasons that made him pass on so fast, was the fear of being obliged to yield the Command to the Duke of Ferrara, his Father in Law, who in the League that was made with the Pope, was nominated Generalissimo of the King's Armies in Italy. For he knew very well, that this Prince, having Reasons not to absent himself from his Dominions, would never think of following the Army as far as Naples. Whereupon he came to Bologne, where he neither found the Forces, nor the Ammunition they had given him hopes of. He made great Complaints thereof to Caraffa, who satisfied him with ill Reasons, and Promises that had no effect; whether he had already made his Accommodation underhand with the Spaniard, as several persons have believed; or that he was a turbulent Man, who made it his business to breed Quarrels, and never troubled himself how to weather them. Guise having sent his Army to Gesi, came to Rome to pay his respects to the Pope; he stayed there near a Month, to wait perhaps, and solicit for the Succours that were promised him; but no Body did approve of this stay. And indeed though he could not have been reproached with leaving the King's Forces useless, through his negligence; it was not very honourable to France to see a General that is sent to be at the head of its Armies, stay a whole Month amongst Monks, and have the lowest place at a Table of Cardinals. Upon which account there runs a Story of a Master of Requests of his Train, who went and placed himself below him, without being invited, that he might prevent, said he, a General of the Armies of the King of France from having the lowest place at Table. Some were of opinion that he stayed at Rome to secure the Pontificate to his Brother, in case it should come to be vacant. Whatsoever the reason was, being returned to his Army, he besieged Civitella, and was obliged to raise the Siege after having stayed there three Weeks. He was likewise vigorously repulsed at an Assault he made, wherein he lost above two hundred Men. The famous Battle of Saint Quentin having brought France within an Ace of its Ruin, Guise was recalled in all haste, and he joyfully quitted a Country where he met with no success. Never was Man received with a more general Applause. The King did him the Honour to tell him, that he was returned for the preservation of the Kingdom: The People, who usually are as easily comforted as they are afflicted, forgot at the sight of him the misfortune that had occasioned his coming back; and those who two days before did not think themselves secure in the midst of Paris, demanded nothing more than to be led forth against the Enemy. It was proposed that Guise should be made Viceroy: but this Title being new, and almost unknown in France, he was nominated Lieutenant General of the King's Armies, within and without the Kingdom; and the Letters were verified in all the Parliaments. Though it was then the midst of Winter, it was thought important, for the Glory and Security of the Kingdom, to make some considerable enterprise. It was not thought fit to go to Saint Quentin, which the Spaniards had fortified, and the sight of which would only have served to abate the Courage of the Soldiers, by renewing the remembrance of their defeat. The resolution having thereupon been taken in the Council, the Duke of Nevers, with one part of the Army, marched towards Campagne, giving out that he was going to take Luxembourg and Arlon. Guise came into Picardy, under the pretext of guarding the Frontier: after which he advanced, as if he designed to go reinforce the Garrisons of Ardres, and of Bologne; and at length, the Forces of the Duke of Nemours having joined him after great days Journeys, he caused his Army to march with incredible diligence, and came on the first of January before Calais, where he was not expected. This Town did at that time belong to the English; but it was looked upon as the Spaniards, because that Philip King of Spain wore then the Crown of England, having married Mary the Queen at that time. The place is defended on one side by the Sea, and on the other by deep Marshes, and by a River which almost wholly environs it. Thus on the Land side you cannot approach it, but by a Ditch which is guarded by the Fort of Nieulay; and on the Sea side it has the Fort of Risban, which absolutely Commands all the Port, and which can hinder all Ships, both great and small, from coming in. The success of this enterprise consisted in diligence. Guise caused the two Forts to be Attacked, and took them both in one day: after which, having raised a Battery against that part of the Town which is called the Water-gate, he began to Fire upon the Fortifications, as if he would have made his principal Attack on that side: But the Enemies thinking they had only that part to defend, were much astonished to see in an instant fifteen pieces of Canon pointed against the Castle, that was only environed by a simple Wall without Ramparts. The noise of the Artillery was so great, that it was heard as far as Antwerp; but it was not a noise to no purpose; for the same Evening the Breach was great enough to amount to the Assault. Guise having caused Grammont to advance with three thousand chosen Harquebusiers, to hinder the Enemies from Re-trenching themselves upon the Breach; he caused fifteen hundred Soldiers to pass along the Port, under the Conduct of Dandelot, with order to sink a Trench, and afterwards a Traverse, which answered to the Canal of the Ditch they broke: and the Waters being emptied to the height of the Traverse, Guise passed through the Water to the middle at the head of his Soldiers; and notwithstanding the obstinate resistance of the Enemies, he became Master of the Castle, whither the English brought him the Keys of the Town the next day, and received the Conditions he thought fit to impose upon them. Thus was that Town taken in less than ten days, which the English had held for two hundred and ten years. They took it in the Reign of Philip of Valois, in the year 1347. though it was not fortified at that time: the Siege lasted a whole year; and John of Vienna, who Commanded there for the King, did not deliver it up till that he saw his Soldiers half dead of Hunger, and that they were no longer able to bear their Arms. But since that time, the English had fortified it after such a manner, as that it passed for impregnable, and for this reason the French had been so long without daring to undertake to drive them from thence. He afterwards took, with the same Rapidity, the Town of Guines, and that of Hames: He made himself Master of all the County of Oye, and in less than a Month drove the English out of France, after their having been settled there for two Ages, without the French being able to force them thence. The year after he besieged Thionville, with the Duke of Nevers, This place was taken with a great deal of pain; and Guise had like to have been killed there, by a Cannon Shot, which took away Marshal Strozzy, upon whose Shoulder he was leaning. But while that his Army, after the taking of Thionville, spent their time in seeing the little City of Arlon on Fire, which the Enemies had abandoned, and in making Skirmishes near Luxemburg, they received news of the defeat of Thermes, whose Troops had been cut in pieces by the Count d' Aiguemont in the Neighbourhood of Gravelines. This loss had like to have ruined France. Some have laid the fault upon Guise, who might have prevented it by joining with Thermes as soon as the Siege was at an end. They likewise say, that it was so resolved in the King's Council. Perhaps there might be some neglect on his side. But I cannot believe what a famous Author says, that he affected this delay to give occasion to this defeat, which he looked upon as the augmentation of his Authority. There was a great number of Rheistres, or Germane Troopers, in the Army, of whom the Baron of Lunebourg was one of the principal Commanders. As Guise was one day visiting the Camp, that German, who was brave and violent, and in whom Wine had that day augmented his natural fierceness, fell into such a passion against Guise, as to offer to fire at him. Guise having drawn his Sword without being concerned, struck his Pistol out of his hand; and seeing that Montpesat was going to kill that insolent Man, Hold, Montpesat, cried he to him, you know not how to kill a man better than I do. I could kill him, if I had a mind. I pardon thee, said he to the Baron, the Injury thou hast done me; I might have revenged myself: but as for that which thou hast done to the King, whose Person I here represent, it is for him to do what Justice he shall think fit. And taking him immediately by the Belt, he sent him to Prison, and proceeded to visit the Camp, with a hundred Horse, not one of the Rheistres daring to stir, though they are naturally mutinous and seditious. The Marriage of the Dauphin with Mary Steward, which was celebrated towards the end of the War, had raised Guise, who was Uncle to the Dauphiness, above all others in the Kingdom. It was he, who at the Ceremony of the Nuptials, had performed the Office of Lord High Steward, in the Constable's absence, who was taken Prisoner at the Battle of Saint Quentin. The Peace was made, and the Constable returned; and Guise being become less necessary, quickly saw the favour he was in diminished. He had rendered great Services to his Master, but he affected too much to make him sensible of the importance of them: and Sovereigns make little difference between the Injuries and the Services that are valued to them at too high a rate. And indeed, Guise believing that nothing could be refused to his merit, had had the boldness to demand of the King the Charge of Lord High Steward, which the Constable was possessed of. The King refused it him, however, and then remembered the Counsel that Francis the First had given him, as he lay a dying; which was, to be diffident of the natural Ambition of the Guises, and to remove them from the Government, that otherwise their their rise would be the fall of the Royal Family. On the other side, the Duchess of Valentinois, whom the Guises were indebted to for one part of their Grandeur, complained of their change of Conduct towards her. Guise did no longer pay her those devoirs; and the Cardinal of Lorraine, insolent in good Fortune, and as proud of the fine actions of his Brother, as if he had performed them himself, begun to treat her very scornfully. This haughty and imperious Woman, who saw all bend before her, was not of a humour to bear with the Contempts of the Cardinal, whom she looked upon as her Creature, and hardly ever called him otherwise than Master Charles. She made her complaints to the King, whose mind was already perfectly disposed to receive them, and it is certain, that he was resolved to remove those two Brothers, with both whom he was equally dissatisfied, when he was prevented by his Death, which happened in such a manner as all the World knows. Never had the Guises seen themselves so near their ruin, and never did they see themselves so raised. It seemed as if all things would have conspired to render them Masters of the Kingdom. King Francis the Second, weak in Body, and yet more feeble in mind, suffered himself to be absolutely governed by his Wife, who was their Niece. The Queen-Mother, who hated the Constable, and stood in fear of the Princes of the Blood, caused the first to be discharged by the King, and removed the others upon divers pretexts: The Guises remained alone at Court, and she was obliged to contribute to the Augmentation of their Authority, for the supporting her own. The King declared to the Deputies of the Parliament, who came to kiss his Hand, that he had shared the Government of the State amongst his Uncles; that Guise should have care of the War, and that the Cardinal should govern the Revenue. The Duchess of Valentinois was put away, and the Constable constrained to yield up at length his Charge of Lord High Steward to Guise, who had so long aimed at it. Thus Guise being Master of the Armies, by the division that was newly made, and Master of the King's Person by this last Office, had the same Authority in the Kingdom as the Maires of the Palace had under the King of the former Race; and we may say that it was he who reigned in the King and Regent's Name. The last Wars had drained the Treasury, and the Demesn was almost wholly engaged; in the mean time nothing was seen at Fountainbleau, where the Court was at that time, but People who demanded some Payments, others Recompenses, with an extraordinary Importunity. The Cardinal of Lorraine bethought himself of a way conformable to his humour, to free himself from these troublesome Solicitors. He caused Proclamation to be made by sound of Trumpet, that all those who were at Court upon account of Petitioning, should be gone within four and twenty hours, upon pain of being Hanged upon a Gibbet that was set up before the Castle. It is incredible how much this extravagant Order did incense People against its Author, and against Guise likewise; though he had no Hand in it. For notwithstanding that he was naturally mild and moderate, we may say that he rendered himself an Accomplice of the violences and extravagances of his Brother, by not hindering them, and often likewise by helping him to put in execution such designs as he ought to have opposed. Thus the Public, seeking usually in its misfortunes only whom to complain of, almost equally accused them both. The Princes of the Blood, and the Collignies made use of that occasion to disturb the Government, which they had but little reason to be satisfied with, being they had no share in it. They form the famous Conspiracy of Amboise, which I shall not here give an account of, because it is not a History, but a Life that I write: And besides it has been so exactly described by all our Historians, that it would be only a useless Repetition. Their design was to kill Guise and his Brother, and afterwards to oblige the King to give to the Princes and the Collignies the share they pretended was due to them in the Administration of the Kingdom. The Liberty of Conscience, which they demanded, did only help them to cover their intentions with a specious Title, and to increase their Party, by engaging therein the Hugonots, who hated the Guises mortally, as having always been persecuted by them. The Court was at Blois when they had the first notice of this Conspiracy. The Cardinal, more fearful than a Woman, already fancied that all was lost, and would have had them cried out to Arms. But Guise, who was not easily startled, did rightly guests that such a Bustle would only help to defer the mischief, instead of curing it; that it was requisite to dissemble, that the Plotters might come and deliver themselves up; and that their presence being their Conviction, would at the same time spare the trouble of seeking and convicting them. In the mean time, as able Men know how to take advantage even of the misfortunes that happen to them; Guise so ordered the business, that this Plot, which was laid to destroy his Authority, did only help the more to augment and settle it. He made known to the King, that there was a horrible Conspiracy against the Royal Family, and that the Princes had resolved to deprive him of his Crown, and his Life. The King being in a fright, and not knowing what Resolution to take, desired Guise to succour him in an occasion wherein he did not find himself capable of doing any thing himself; and at the same time declared him Lieutenant General in all the Provinces of his Dominions, with full Power to do all he should judge useful for the good of the Kingdom: These are the terms of the Commission that was given him. The Chancellor opposed it with all his Power, but his resistance was absolutely to no purpose; and the Queen Mother, who was the best in the World at seeming to desire things which she could not hinder, was constrained to be aiding to it. The Rendezvous of the Conspirators was at Blois: Guise, to break their measures, carried the King to Amboise. They came thither, without being startled at this change: but the prudence of Guise, and the good Orders he gave every where, rendered their designs Abortive. A great number of them were killed in the Woods, where they had hid themselves, and amongst others la Renaudie their Leader. Others, were carried to Amboise, where during several days there was nothing seen but horrible Executions, which they obliged the King to look at from a Window. The blood flowed along the Streets, and the Walls of the Castle were covered with Bodies of the Conspirators, whom they hanged at the Battlements, all Booted, and without any form of Process, but only as they were brought into the Town. What care soever the Guises took to persuade the King, that this Conspiracy was only designed against his Person, and against his Royal Brothers; they could not prevent his hearing sometimes Rumours of the aversion the People had for them. This poor Prince frighted with hearing them say every moment, that there was a design to kill him, and to see so many Wretches put to Death daily, told them sometimes weeping: What have I then done to my People, that should oblige them to have such an aversion for me? Is it not you, My Lords, they aim at? And would it not be convenient that you should withdraw for some time, that we might see if your absence would not put an end to these disorders? But they did not think fit to take this course; and besides, it would have been imprudent in them to have abandoned the King's Person to Rebellious Subjects, who had only taken up Arms because they were not satisfied with the Government. The Prince of Conde, who was without doubt the chief of the Conspirators, was come to Amboise to favour their enterprise. The King being perfectly informed of it, forbid him to go out of the Town without his Order, and appointed Guards to attend him. But the Conspiracy being entirely dissipated, he beseeched the King to call his Council, and to cause all the Ambassadors to be there. Having complained there with that confidence, which does so well imitate Innocence, of the ill Impressions some Persons would have insinuated into the King of his Conduct, and principally as to what had newly happened; he ended his discourse with saying, That if there was any one who durst maintain that he had had a Hand in the Conspiracy, he offered to give him the Lie at the point of his Sword, and for that purpose would renounce the Privileges that his Quality gave him. Guise knowing well enough that this Discourse was meant to him, answered with such a dissimulation as equalled the Prince's assurance; That the reports which the Princes complained of, ought not to be suffered; that no body ought to doubt, but that he was very innocent: but that if he should come to Fight, for to prove his innocence, he should have no greater Joy than to offer him his Sword, and to serve him for a Second. These fine Protestations did not hinder him from advising the King to cause the Prince to be taken into Custody: but as they had reason to believe that the King of Navarre his Brother had a hand in the Conspiracy, and that it would have been to no purpose to have confined the one without the other, they thought convenient to refer the doing it till another opportunity. The Constable, who was retired to Chantilly, had order to come and inform the Parliament of what had passed at Amboise. He acquitted himself of this Commission after such a manner, as was disagreeable to the Guises; for he made known that the Plot was only against them, and that there was no Conspiracy against the King's Person, as they would have had it believed. He added That however the Conspirators had been justly treated after the manner they had been: For if particular Persons of Quality cannot suffer without shame, that their Domestics, or those they take under their Protection, should be insulted; it was not strange that the King had taken an exemplary vengeance of the attempt they had had the boldness to make upon the Principal Ministers of State. In the mean time the Parliament wrote a Letter to the King, upon what had newly happened; and another to Guise, wherein they gave him the glorious Name of Preserver of their Country; what services soever he might have rendered to the State in this Rencounter, the Parliaments acknowledgement seemed extraordinary, and something below the Dignity of so great a Company. In the mean time an Assembly was Convened at Fontainbleau, to deliberate about the means of appeasing the Troubles which arose in the Kingdom: For those who in good truth did demand Liberty of Conscience, and those who considered it only as a pretext to revolt, made more noise than ever. In this Assembly, Guise and the Cardinal of Lorraine gave publicly an account of their Administration. After which, several means were proposed to accommodate affairs of Religion: but the minds of People were too much heated; and neither Party would come to an accommodation, though they seemed so earnest for it. The Guises were resolved to spare nothing for the preserving their Power; and the others were determined to attempt all things for the destroying it, and put themselves in the place of their Enemies. The King of Navarre and the Prince of Conde could not be persuaded to come thither, notwithstanding all the Instances that had been made them. Thus the Admiral, who after them was the most considerable of their Party, was the Man who spoke for the Hugonots. He presented a Request to the King in their Name, by which they demanded Churches in all the Cities of the Kingdom, and a full liberty for the Exercise of their Religion. The King received the request; and it being wondered at, that it was not Signed, the Admiral had the boldness to answer, That he would easily cause it to be Signed by fifty thousand men. He added, That it was strange that they should bring up the King, as they did, in distrust and fear, and that he was always environed with Soldiers, as if he had been in the midst of his Enemies. The Guises replied, with a great deal of sharpness, to what the Admiral had said: That if the King was obliged to keep Soldiers about his Person, the fault was in them who had dared to Conspire against his Life; and that if there were fifty thousand Rebels ready to Sign the Request that was presented, there would be found millions of Subjects, that were faithful to their Religion and their Prince, and would be able to suppress the enterprise that should be made against either of them. The Assembly separated without doing any thing, they only Convened the States at Meaux, for the Month of December following, and gave Orders, that they should cease putting to Death those of the new Religion, who were at that time too numerous to hope they could be destroyed by Punishments. The Prince of Conde was retired to his Brother in Bearne, where he was contriving a new Conspiracy against the Guises. La Sague, whom he had sent to Paris, was taken into Custody at Estampes, as he was upon his return encharged with Letters and Memoires. It was discovered that the Princes were to come to Court, and that they had taken measures to seize on, in their passage, the best Cities that were in their way. These things were confessed by La Sague, whom they had terrified; for the Letters did contain in appearance, only mere Civilities, that had nothing Criminal. But when, by the Information of that Man, they had made them have a hand in the Plot, they found the Papers were to be interpreted after another way, and several things were discovered. They found written by Dardoir the Constable's Secretary's hand, that his Master still persisted in the Design of ridding himself of the Guises; which might be effected, maugre the Queen and the States; and in order to that; the presence of the Princes was only expected. Dardoir added of his own Head, that the execution of this Design appeared difficult to several, and that it would be more expedient, that the Princes, at their arrival at Court, should cause the Guises to be killed by trusty people; that this would change in an instant the face of things; and that then they would not find it difficult to get all affairs into their own hands. Guise kept these Memoires, without making any noise, being resolved to make use of them upon occasion. And indeed the States, who were appointed to meet at Meaux, having been removed to Orleans, Guise ordered his business so well, that he engaged the two Princes to come thither, notwithstanding the earnest advice of all their Friends, who would have diverted them from that Journey; and notwithstanding the just reasons they had of themselves to distrust the usages they should meet with there. The Prince of Conde was taken into Custody at his arrival, and within a few days having been brought to a Trial before Commissioners, whom the King had nominated, he was condemned to lose his Head. We cannot read without horror what was reported at that time, and which has since been written, That the Guises fearing the resentments of the King of Navarre, and concluding besides, that their Authority would never be peaceable nor secure, as long as there should remain a Prince of the Blood to contest it, they had undertaken to rid themselves of them; but by such means, as, if they had been successful, would have caused the whole Royal Family to have perished by itself; that the King, whom they had made to comprehend how important it was, not to suffer a Prince to live who might revenge the Death of the Prince of Conde, was to send for the King of Navarre to his Chamber, that he should reproach him in very sharp terms, with the Crimes of his Brother, and the just reasons of complaint he had against himself; the Prince would either confidently deny, or at least vindicate himself with too much heat, and thereupon he was to be stabbed to Death by People the King should give a sign to, and who were to be in Ambuscade. Others add, that this Prince had notice of the danger which threatened him, and after having considered a long time of what he had to do, he resolved to run the hazard of what might happen; and that having told his mind to one of his faithfullest Domestics, as he was upon the point of going into the King's Chamber, If it happen, said he to him, that I fall under the multitude and the treachery of my Enemies, take my Shirt all bloody, carry it to my Wife and my Son; they will read in my Blood what they ought to do to revenge me. That then he went to the King, who durst not, or who would not give the Signal they had agreed of; and that Guise being vexed to see his enterprise thus fail, cried out to those who were with him, What a poor Prince have we? Though the recital alone of this Story makes it seem incredible, principally in regard of Guise, who was not capable of advising an Assassinate; I thought myself obliged to mention it here, as I have found it written by the Historians of that time. The King being seized by a violent sickness, the state of things was very much changed: The Guises seeing that it must needs have a very ill issue, pressed the Queen to put the Prince of Conde to Death, and to take the King of Navarre into Custody. But this Princess being ambitious to Govern, and no longer able to bear with the Authority of the Guises, did not think fit to do a thing that would have contributed to the confirming it. She took measures wholly contrary: She came to an accommodation with the Princes; and the King being dead, the Prince was set at liberty. As he was haughty and imperious, he did not conceal his resentments against such persons as he believed to have been the Authors of his Imprisonment; and he caused those to tremble in their turn, who two days before thought themselves Masters of his Life. And the King of Navarre, consenting that the Queen should have the Regency, was declared Lieutenant General of the Kingdom. The agitation of a Court filled with so many several Interests, and the Devoirs which they crowded to pay the new King, caused those to be forgotten which they owed the King who was newly expired. His Body was carried to Saint Denis, being only attended by Sansac and la Brosse, who had been his Governors, and Lewis Guillard Bishop of Senlis, who was blind. People were not satisfied with the Guises, though they excused themselves that they had stayed with their Niece to comfort her: It was thought strange, that there being six Brothers of them at Court, not one had accompanied the Corpse of a Prince who had been so kind to them during his Life. They were likewise reproached with their ingratitude, after a very ingenuous manner. There was fastened upon the Pall of the Coffin a Ticket, wherein these words were written: Tanneguy du Chastel, Where art thou? This Tanneguy du Chastel had been Lord High Chamberlain under Charles the Seventh, who had banished him, though he had rendered great Services to the King and the State. But this ill usage not having been able to stifle the acknowledgements of the benefits he had formerly received, as soon as he knew of the Death of his Master, he came to bewail him upon his Coffin, and did at his own charges the Funeral Rites which no one would take care of. The Queen's Ambition was the preservation of the Guises, but without their being obliged to her for it. She was afraid, that by their removal, the Princes would absolutely become Masters: Thus she entertained both Parties, that she might make use of the one to poise the Authority of the other. Things were, during some days, in a pretty great Tranquillity: But the most prudent easily perceived that this Calm could not last long. The King of Navarre being grown haughty with his new Authority, and thinking that he might at length oblige Guise to renounce the Government, sought only to vex him upon all occasions. He quarrelled with him for keeping the Keys of the Castle, as Lord High Steward, and pretended that they were to be brought to him, as being Lieutenant General of the Kingdom. The Queen not daring to Condemn this Prince openly, proposed the bringing the Keys to her: but this temperament did not please him, he threatened her to retire, if Guise was not removed, and to take with him all the Princes of the Blood, and the Constable likewise, whose Authority was very great at that time. The Queen, in this perplexity, caused the Constable to be forbidden to leave the Court: he obeyed more willingly than was expected, and this stayed the King of Navarre, who was afraid they would accustom themselves to be without him, as they had done in the former Reign. In the mean time the Admiral had got such an influence over the Queen, that she did nothing but by his Counsel, both as to Religion and the Government of the State. The Constable, who was fixed to the Catholic Religion, preferably to all the Interests at Court, was shocked at the Queen's Conduct. He could not bear she should permit the Hugonots to exercise their Religion in the very Lovure, nor that she obliged the King to assist at the Sermons of the Bishop of Valence, whose Sentiments were but too much suspected. He represented to her that it was against the King's honour and Conscience, to suffer the excesses that were daily committed in his very Family, contrary to the Religion he made profession of. But seeing that his Remonstrances were to no purpose, and that this Princess only considered things as they might augment or diminish her Authority, he begun to withdraw himself from her interests. The Marshal de Saint Andre did dexterously make use of that Conjuncture to unite the Constable with Guise, who desired nothing more: He succeeded in his undertaking. These two Lords had ever had a very pure and sincere affection for the Catholic Religion; and we may say that it is to them France is indebted for the Conservation of it in that Kingdom. Thus they passed over the several Interests which separated them from one another, and forgot their ancient Enmities, to unite themselves in the Design of opposing the erterprises of the Hugonots. The Constable went to the Communion with Guise on Easter-day, and in the Evening they supped together at the Constable's House, with the Prince of Joinville, Guise's Son, and the Marshal de Saint Andre. The Constable going afterwards to Chantilly, Guise retired to his House at Nantevil, which is not far distant, and from whence he wrote to him very often. He stayed there till Spring, and then followed the King who was going to be Crowned at Rheimes. Upon the occasion of this Ceremony, there arose a dispute for precedence between Guise and the Princes of the Blood, the source of which was as followeth. There was formerly but twelve Peers of France, six ecclesiastics, and six Laics: But all the Titles of the Laics having been suppressed, whether by the Reunion of their Lands to the Crown, or otherwise, the Kings have reserved to themselves the power of honouring with that Quality those they shall think fit, without confining themselves to the number which is no longer limited. However, for the preserving the memory of the first Institution, the Custom is, That at the Coronation of Kings, besides the six Ecclesiastic Peers who assist at the Ceremony, six others are chosen from amongst the Laics, who represent the six ancient ones, and who assisting there only in Quality of Peers, have no other Rank amongst them than that of their Seniority, without having regard to the Offices they are otherwise possessed of: Insomuch, by example, that a mere Gentleman would take place there of the Constable, if he had been made Peer before him. The dispute was to know if this Custom ought to reach to the Princes of the Blood. The Prince of Montpensier pretended to go before Guise, though Guise was a more ancient Peer than he. He said that the quality of a Prince of the Blood eminently contained all the others; and that this was the reason that those who had the honour to be so, did not take their Rank among them according to their Dignities, but according as they were more or less related to the King's Person. Guise made answer, That Montpensier, not assisting at that Ceremony as Prinoc of the Blood, but only as Peer of France, his quality ought not to regulate the precedence in that occasion. But his best reason was, that Custom was for him; his Father at the Coronation of Henry the Second, and he himself at that of Francis the Second, having preceded the Princes of the Blood. Thus he walked immediately after the King of Navarre, and before the Prince of Montpensier, though Prince Alexander, who was afterwards King, under the name of Henry the Third, went before the King of Navarre. As it was difficult, after what had passed, but that the Prince of Conde, who was at Court, should daily meet with Guise, without showing him his displeasure in such a manner as might have very ill consequences, there was an accommodation proposed between them, which was effected after this manner. The King having sent for them both to him, in the presence of all the Court, and having ordered Guise to speak first, he told the Prince: Sir, I neither have had, nor would have had a hand in any thing which should he against your Honour or your Life, nor was I the Author, Motive, nor Instigator of your Imprisonment: To which the Prince made answer: Sir, I look upon the Person or Persons as base and wicked, who were the occasion of it. Thereupon Guise replied: I am of the same Opinion; but it does not at all touch me. After which the King desired them to embrace one another, and to remain good Friends. In the mean time the Admiral's Credit augmented every day, and Guise not being able to bear with the public contempt there was had of Religion, nor perhaps of the diminution of his Authority, withdrew to his own House, after having complained to the Queen of the Protection she gave to the Hugonots. The Constable, the Marshal of Saint Andre, the Cardinal of Lorraine, and the Duke of Nemours were all of the same Cabal, and retired likewise at the same time. Guise did not remain idle in his Retreat. He interessed the King of Spain in his discontent: and this Prince shared in it the more willingly, in that he sought nothing more, than an occasion of showing his Zeal for the Catholic Religion, by seizing on the rest of the Territories of the King of Navarre, who openly countenanced the Hugonots. Guise advantageously made use of that occasion with Anthony, who was naturally fearful. He thereupon promised him a match between him and Mary Steward, and to cause the Kingdom of Scotland to be given him, or to cause the King of Spain to deliver to him Sardaign. Anthony, who knew himself well enough, to judge that of himself he could never oblige the King of Spain to restore Navarre to him, listened greedily to these propositions; and was at length so well persuaded, that he entered into very strict engagements with Guise, and withdrew himself wholly from the Hugonots Party, which his Brother the Prince of Conde was the Head of. Then Guise knowing that having the King of Navarre on his side, who was Lieutenant General of the Kingdom, he should be stronger than his Enemies, he resolved to return to Paris, where he was impatiently expected. As he passed through Vassy, a small City of Champagne, word was brought him, that the Hugonots held their meeting in a Barn hard by. A Company of insolent and useless people, who are ever following great Persons, run thither immediately, and who never show any Zeal to their Religion, but by out-raging those who were not of it: They begun to exclaim against the Hugonots, calling them Dogs and Rebels to their King. These injuries were repulsed by others: in short, they came to blows; and Guise running thither to put an end to this disorder, received by chance a blow with a Stone, which covered all his Face with Blood. Then his Domestics, believing their Violence authorized by his wound, could not be withheld by his threatenings or his Prayers: they fell upon the Hugonots, who had not Arms; there was about two hundred wounded in that unlucky Encounter, and near sixty killed upon the place. This is what was called the Massacre of Vassy, and which has been so diversely reported, according to the several interests of those who have written thereof, insomuch that one Writer has had the Confidence to affirm, that Guise led his Men to the attack of that Barn, as to an Assault, the Trumpets sounding, and himself marching at the head of them with his Sword drawn. The Prince of Conde, waiting only for an occasion to be stirring, did not fail to make a great Bustle for what happened at Vassy. Francour and Beza came to the King at Monceaux, to complain thereof, in the name of all the Huguenot Party. But the King of Navarre, being no longer on their side, treated them as seditious in the King's presence, and sent them back with small satisfaction. But the Queen, who countenanced the Hugonots more than ever, had entered into such strict engagements with the Prince of Conde, and the Admiral, that they governed in her name. In short, the Catholic Religion was upon the point of being banished France, if Guise, the Constable, and the Marshal de Saint Andre, who saw that on its ruin that of their Authority depended, had not resolved to oppose vigorously all that the Queen should do in order to its destruction. The Hugonots hereupon called this Union the Triumvirate. The business of Vassy had made so much noise, as that it was impossible but that it should have very ill Censequences; and Guise meditated a Journey to Paris that was suspected by the Prince of Conde and the Queen. He was come from Joinville to his house of Nantevil, where he received Letters, by which she ordered him not to go to Paris, and to come to the King without being accompanied. But Guise, finding himself supported by the King of Navarre, and being willing to make known to the Hugonots that he did not fear them, made answer, that he was taken up with receiving his Friends, and that after he should have acquitted himself of that Devoir, he would see what he had to do. The Marshal de Saint Andre used the same language, and told the Queen, who ordered him to retire from his Government, that considering the posture Affairs were in, it was the Duty of his place not to abandon the King's Person. However, notwithstanding the Queen's Orders, Guise came to Paris with a numerous Train. The Provost of the Merchants and the Sheriffs went to meet him, and the people received him as a Man sent from Heaven for the preservation of their Religion: And indeed there was no longer any hopes but in him. The Queen seemed to approve of the erterprises of the Hugonots, instead of suppressing them, and her protection had rendered them so insolent, that they daily committed new Disorders, insomuch that the Priests could hardly carry the Host through the Streets, without being exposed to the insults of the Rabble. The Queen, outraged at Guise's contemning her Orders, and fearing the effects of the strict Union that was form between him and the King of Navarre, resolved to unmask, and to put her own and the King's Person into the hands of the Prince of Conde. The Prince was at Paris with a great Train when Guise arrived there. He went from thence some days after, upon Condition that Guise should do the like; and retired to his House de la Ferte, where he secretly raised Men, and took measures with the Queen for the putting their design in Execution. Guise, who let nothing escape his knowledge, seeing of what moment it was to prevent them, put a Garrison of fifteen hundred Men into Paris, and being followed by a great number of armed Men, and accompanied by the King of Navarre, whose timidity he reassured by his Resolution, he went to the Queen at Fontainbleau. He represented to her that the Prince of Conde was arming underhand; that he was justly suspected of having dangerous designs; and that it was not convenient the King should remain any longer in a place where he was too much exposed to the attempts that might be made upon his Person. The Queen, surprised to see herself discovered, asked them with great concern, if they had forgot the respect that was due to her, and if they were come to use violence? To which Guise made answer for the King of Navarre and himself. We know, Madam, the respect that is due to you, and we will never be wanting in it, as long as we live; but we ought to answer to the State for the King's Person. You are Mistress, and may stay here as long as you please; but the fidelity we owe our Prince, obliges us to carry him this very day to a place where he may have nothing to fear from his Rebel Subjects. And immediately they carried the King to Paris; and the Queen, not being able to hinder it, was obliged to follow them, after having written a Letter to the Prince of Conde, to testify to him how sorry she was that they had been so prevented by their Enemies. It is certain, that it is this enterprise that has preserved the Catholic Religion in the Kingdom; for considering the state things were in, the two Parties being equal, it was easy to see that that which could have the King's Person on its side, would be looked upon as the Loyal Party, and that the others would be considered as Rebels. The King was not of an age to make choice himself of a Religion, and the Regent, who, according to all appearances, affected no one in particular, seemed fully determined to inspire him with that which should suit best with the design she had of being always at the Helm. The Prince of Conde was preparing to go to Fontainebleau with the Men he had about him, when he learned that he was prevented. Then seeing that there were no more hopes for him, but in open force, and believing he should still be supported by the Queen, he seized on Orleans; and having thereby given a Signal to the Rebellion, all the best Cities of the Kingdom found themselves almost at the same time in the hands of the Hugonots. The Queen, who till then had countenanced them, seeing herself in the power of the Catholics, begun to act as if she had always been an the interest of these last; and while she wrote secret Letters to the Prince of Conde, wherein she imputed to Guise all the misfortunes that had already happened to the Kingdom, and those it was threatened with for the future: She treated the Hugonots in public as Rebels; and took measures in Council to reduce them by force of Arms. Some days were spent in proclaiming Manifesto's on both sides, and in making Propositions for an accommodation, which could not fail of being abortive, because neither of the two Parties had a mind to Peace. The Prince of Conde pretended to prove by Letters from the Queen, that he had taken Arms by her Order, and that he only kept himself in that posture to free the King and her out of the Captivity they were detained in by the Triumvirate. The King issued out Declarations wholly contrary, and wherein he assured that the queen and himself were at full liberty. But considering the Circumstances the Queen was then under, the erterprises of the Prince of Conde were of no use to her, and the issue of them could not be otherwise than a Civil War, that would be very fatal to both Parties. Wherefore she caused several Propositions of Peace to be made him; and at length engaged him to declare by writing, That for the putting an end to the troubles which divided the Kingdom, he offered to leave it immediately, upon condition that Guise, the Constable, and the Marshal de St. Andre should retire from Court. This proposition was accepted Guise and his two Friends departed the same day, testifying a great deal of Joy, in that France was pacified at so cheap a rate. But the Prince could not be persuaded to keep his word, having given it only because he thought it would not have been accepted: All the Conferences were broken off, and their thoughts were wholly bend to War. Guise, after having retaken Blois and Tours from the Hugonots, laid Siege to Bourges with fifteen thousand Foot and three thousand Horse. The King and Queen were personally in the Army. Yvoy the Governor of the Town defended it courageously during five Weeks, and it would not have been easily taken, if he had not let himself be tempted by the promises of the Court. From Bourges Guise went to Rouven, and having himself taken a view of the Place, he assured the King that he would take it by Assault in four and twenty hours' time. But it was thought more convenient to spin out the Siege, that the Inhabitants might have time to recollect themselves, and not expose to pillage so rich and populous a City. But the Mount Saint Katherine, and the Suburbs of Saint Hillary having been taken, and yet the Besieged not bating any thing of the insolence, with which they made answer to the first Orders of the King; it was at length resolved a general Assault should be made. He chose a very hopeful young Man, called Saint Colombe, to begin the Attacque, and having permitted him to pick out fifty Men, he promised him he would follow very closely. Then having assembled all the Officers and Soldiers who were to mount to the Assault, amongst whom was Castlenau, who gives all his Speech in his Book, he represented to them, That true Soldiers ought only to fight for Glory, and were not capable of saccaging a Town against their Sovereigns will, who was desirous to preserve it. Remember, said he to them, that those you are going to fight against will be no longer your Enemies, than while they are up in Arms. But as soon as they shall be rendered uncapable of defending themselves, they will be your Brethren, and against whom it is with regret his Majesty sends you. And thereupon having made all those who surrounded him, promise that the Town should not be pillaged, he gave the Signal. The Besieged made very little resistance; and Guise his Soldiers ill remembering what they had promised their Leader, and no longer knowing the voice of their Officers, they plundered one of the richest Towns of the Kingdom, which it was impossible to hinder them from doing. As Guise was going the next day to meet the Queen, who was coming to lodge in the City, he perceived afar off some Soldiers carrying a wounded Man upon a Chair; and being informed that it was Saint Colombe, who first mounted to the Assault: Ha! My dear Saint Colombe, said he to him, how dost thou do? I am going to die, Sir, answered the wounded Person, but it will be without regret, provided you assure me that the King and you are satisfied with my Services. And how should we be otherwise, replied Guise? it is certain, that had it not been for you, the King would not yet have been Master of the Town; but think of being Cured, and assure yourself, you shall be satisfied with the Recompense that the King prepares for you, and that I shall look upon you as long as I live, as my Brother and Companion in War. Having said these words, he left him with Tears in his Eyes, and Saint Colombe being dead the next day, Guise himself did assist at his Funeral, testifying and extreme regret for his loss, and was always speaking of him with extreme applause. He likewise made inquiry after all the Soldiers who had accompanied him, and took care to recompense them every one according to his Merit. The Prince of Conde, designing to re-animate the hopes of his Party by some considerable enterprise, they being very much dejected at the taking of Roven, led his Army to Paris. He imagined that it would be easy for him to take in that great Town, being it was without Fortifications, and full of a people that were easy to be terrified. But Guise going thither in all haste, dispersed their fears, as his Father had done twenty years before, when that Charles the Fifth had taken Chasteau-Thierry; and during the eight days that the Army was at the Gates, the people did not for one moment interrupt their usual employs: The Shops and Colleges were opened as was Customary, and the Courts of Justice as full of Advocates, as in a time of profound Peace. The Prince having perceived the folly of his design, raised the Siege, and marched towards Normandy, where he hoped to receive the Money and Forces that were coming to him from England. He was followed by the King's Army, which was lead by Guise and the Constable. The Prince did not design to fight; but his Army having lost one days March through his Major General's fault, the Constable overtook him near Dreux. He caused his Army and his Artillery to pass over the little River of Ewer by Moonlight, and with so great a silence, that the Enemies did not in the least perceive it: Insomuch that when they were going to continue their March the next day, they were much amazed to see the Royal Army posted in the way through which they were to pass. The Constable had posted himself between two Villages, having Blainville on the right, and Spinal on the left; and as he was very weak in Cavalry, he had disposed it by little Squadrons amongst the great Battalions of Infantry, which the Army was composed of. Thus joining to the Village of Blainville was the Spanish Infantry under cover of the Houses, and the Trees of the Village: On the left side of it was Guise and la Brosse his Lieutenant at the Head of the Companies of Ordnance; then were the old Troops of Piedmont, and after them the Marshal de Saint Andre, with four Cornets of Horse. Near the Marshal de Saint Andre, still drawing towards the left, you had the Germane Infantry, and at last the Squadron of Daumale and Damville, who completed the Vanguard, before which was placed fourteen pieces of Cannon. Something farther in the Plain, however still drawing towards Spinal, was the great Battalion of the Swisses, having on the left hand eight pieces of Cannon, and the Cavalry of the Constable, and of Brichanteau, than the Regiments of Britain and of Picardy. Sansac made up the Body of the Army, having the light Horse, who reached from this Battalion to the Village of Spinal. Guise would not take any Command that day, that he might not be obliged to obey the Constable, and said that he took care only of his Company of Ordonnance, and some Volunteers that had joined themselves to him. But his Name Commanded for him in all Places where he came, and we may say that it was he who led the Vanguard. The Prince's Army was divided into two: There was in the Vanguard, led by the Admiral, five hundred French Horse, six French Colours, and six German. The Body of the Army which was led by the Prince, was composed of six hundred French Lances, six Cornets of Germane Cavalry, ten Ensigns of Germans, twelve of French, and six Troops of light Horse. Dandelot, having been to discover the Royal Army, was not of Opinion a Battle should be hazarded, and the Prince already caused his Men to March towards Treon, where he hoped to Entrench himself: But as he could not make this motion without laying his right Wing full open to his Enemy; the Constable having caused the fourteen pieces of Canon, we have mentioned, to be fired upon him, obliged him to come briskly to the Charge. The Body of the Constable's Battalia was advanced into the Plain; for as there was not a sufficient space between the two Villages to contain all the Army, it advanced in the Form of a demicircle; and the right Wing that lay behind, and was hidden by the Trees and the Houses of the Village of Blainville, did hardly appear at all. Thus the Prince, who was below Blainville, marching towards the Constable, thought he saw all the Army, and advanced in all haste without taking notice what he left on one side of him. And the Admiral, who was yet further, turning about likewise at the same time, they both found themselves directly opposite to the Body of the Constable's Battalia. In the mean time the Prince, instead of falling upon the Cavalry, that was not so strong as his, attacked the Battalion of Swisses immediately. Movy and Avaret having Attacked the Front, pierced it through entirely, and made their way through to the very Baggage, which was plundered. Then the Prince took them in the Rear, and Damville being advanced to them with three Companies of Gensdarmes, he was so sharply repulsed by the Germane Horse, that he was obliged to retreat to the Vanguard, to rally his Men. The Admiral on his side having Attacked the Constable's Cavalry, put it to the rout without much difficulty. The Regiments of Britain and Picardy, were cut to pieces. Sansac's Cavilry, being as it were seized with a panic fear, fell a running without making any resistance; and several of them having galloped full speed, as far as Paris, brought news thither of the King's Army being defeated, and of the Hugonots having gained the Victory. At length the Constable, being wounded with a Pistol Bullet, and having had his Horse killed under him, was taken Prisoner by the Germane Horse. Daumale had his Arm broken in endeavouring to succour him, and the Enemies made themselves Masters of the Artillery. Guise saw all this without quitting his Post, raising himself up from time to time in his Stirrups to observe the Enemies. Damville was near him, and desperate with having seen his Brother Montberon killed; and seeing that the Enemies were carrying his Father away Prisoner, would by all means have obliged Guise to have run after him, in order to his succour. But the violent Transports of this young Lord could not move him, and he only answered him with a great deal of sweetness: My Son, we will be revenged, but it is not yet time. At length, when he saw that the Enemies, by over pursuing a Victory they thought themselves sure of, had brought themselves into a Condition of being infallibly conquered, and that they had lost all their Ranks; he detachued a hundred and fifty Horse under the Conduct of la Brosse, to begin the Charge, and turning towards those who followed him, Come, my Companions, said he to them, the Battle is won. Then he caused the Vanguard to advance, marching himself at the head of them, with a boldness as seemed to answer for the Victory. La Brosse having made the Germane Horse something give way, he himself put them perfectly to the Rout. He cut in pieces the Germane and French Infantry: it is in vain that the Admiral and the Prince do all they can to rally some Cavalry; they were hindered by eight hundred Harquebusiers▪ whom Saint Andre had placed on purpose, and who fired continually. The Prince himself is taken Prisoner by Damville, as he was changing his Horse; and the Admiral, after having returned furiously to the Charge, and put Guise several times in danger of his Life, was at length obliged to retreat to Neuville, and to leave his Enemy Master of the Field of Battle. Though all the World agree that the success of this Battle, which was of a very great Consequence for the Kingdom, was due to Guise alone, they have however talked diversely of his Conduct in this occasion. He is reproached with not having Attacked the Enemies soon enough, though he might have charged them in the Rear, and with having suffered the whole Army to be put to the rour, without stirring in the least to its relief. But besides, that it was to be feared, that the Runaways coming to fall upon his Battalions, might have put them in disorder, which would have happened, if he had moved sooner than he did; I believe that in those extraordinary occasions, we must sometimes judge of the Conduct of great Men by the Event. Besides, that stratagem of War is not without example, and it was practised a long time before, by Philopoemen, with as happy a success. This great Captain, in a Battle he fought against Machanidas the Tyrant of the Lacedæmonians, seeing all his Vanguard put to the rout, and the Enemies pass hard by him, in pursuit of the Runaways, remained firm in his Post, and did not stir till he saw that his Enemy, after having entirely defeated the Vanguard, returned in disorder, and were no longer in a Condition to oppose him. Guise treated the Prince of Conde with all the humanity that can be expected from a generous Conqueror. These two Generals, whose thoughts had for so long a time been taken up wholly with contriving how to ruin one another, supped together, and suspended in that occasion resentments that were too lively to be so quickly forgotten. As all the Baggage had been plundered, Guise, who had but one Bed left, offered it to the Prince, who accepted the half of it, fearing it would be either too great an Incivility, to receive entirely the offer that was made him, or too much haughtiness to refuse it. In which I find that the moderation of the vanquished merits no less praise than the Civility of the Conqueror: for as much as great Courages have mildness in prosperity; so much have they usually Haughtiness in their Misfortunes, some being desirous to make appear that the favours of Fortune cannot elevate them, and others, that Disgraces cannot deject them. Guise has himself written, that eight thousand were killed upon the place. He dispatched Losses, Captain of the Guards, to the Queen, who immediately confirmed to him the Charge of General, of which the Victory had already put him in possession. It was in that Quality that Damville had presented the Prince of Conde to him, after having taken him: But Guise who was the most civil person of Quality of that Age, returned him again into his Hands on the morrow, telling him very agreeably, I restore you your Prisoner, take care to keep him; he may help you to pay my Lord the Constable's ransom. Some days after he went to the Queen at Rambovillet, to whom he rendered a public account of all that had passed in the Battle of Dreux. He enlarged extremely in Commendations of the Constable, of the Marshal de Saint Andre who was killed, and of all those who had shown any valour in that occasion. He even spoke very well of several Officers who had abandoned their Posts, and who basely run away; and he told his Friends, who seemed amazed at so much Generosity, that it was not just to ruin people for a misfortune that had happened to them, and which, perhaps, would never happen again; and that his carriage towards them would perhaps oblige them to Correct themselves, and show more courage in the future. Certainly we cannot sufficiently admire this wise answer, when we consider, that there is in War, as elsewhere, certain unluckily moments, wherein the greatest Courages are not Masters of themselves; and are sometimes hurried by unvoluntary motions, to actions they would willingly afterwards wash away the memory of at the price of all their Blood: Witness what happened to Aussin. This brave Captain, who had given in Italy so many Testimonies of his Valour, that it was become a Proverb; being at the Battle of Dreux, was taken, as well as others, with the panic fear that spread through the Constable's Forces. But coming the next day to make reflection on what had happened to him, it put him into so great a despair, that he starved himself to Death, notwithstanding all the instances of Guise, and the principal Officers of the Army, who used all their efforts to oblige him to pardon himself. After the Battle Guise went to lay Siege to Orleans. This Town was as the Fortress of the Hugonots; and he said, that after having taken it, he would in a Month's time bring them perfectly to reason, and render the Kingdom as peaceable as it had ever been. However, whether that for secret Reasons this Design was not pleasing to the Queen, or that hazard alone opposed his putting it in Execution, he was traversed in at all manner of ways. The Gunpowder in the Arsenal of Paris having taken Fire, without being known how, consumed in an instant all the Ammunitions of War designed for that Siege. Guise was forced to wait a long time for the Cannons he wanted to begin the Siege with, and when he was upon the point of making the first approaches, Castlenau arrived from Blois, to order him in the Queen's Name, who was then there, to raise the Siege, and to go pursue the Admiral into Normandy, and give succours to the Marshal de Brissac, who complained he had not Forces sufficient to keep the Field. All these disappointments did not alter his Resolution of taking the Town. He told Castlenau, that the business in hand was of so great importance, as to deserve some time to consider of it: In the mean time that he would show him his Infantry, which was the finest that had been yet seen in France; and having commanded him to follow him, he came to it within two hundred Paces of the Suburbs of Portereau, where they expected him without noise, according to the Orders they had received. Castlenau, thinking he was carried to a Review, was much amazed to see Guise light off his Horse, and cause four Culverins to advance, drawn by Pioners, falling Pellmell upon the Suburbs. The Culverins having over-turned the Gabions and Barrels the Enemies had covered themselves with; he caused his Soldiers to march with Sword in Hand, who took the Suburbs after a very obstinate Fight, and taking advantage of the Enemy's disorder, they had like to have entered the Town with them. During the heat of the Attacque, Guise told Castlenau, I am grieved the Marshal de Brissac is not here; I believe he would take delight to see the Performances of our Foot, and that he would find them much better employed in taking this Town, and in freeing the Constable, than in crossing the Kingdom to run after the Admiral's Cavalry. The River of Loire, which runs along the Walls of Orleans, separates the City from the Suburbs of Portereau, and the Bridge which makes the Communication of the one with the other, is guarded by the Fort of Tourelles. Guise became Master of it in a few days, and the Town was so pressed, that it was impossible for it to hold out four and twenty hours longer, when there happened a Misfortune which changed the state of things. There was in the Camp a Gentleman called Poltrot, of a gloomy and close humour, and having all the manners of Spain, where he had been brought up, but was resolute besides, and capable of the greatest Crimes. He had let himself be persuaded by Guise's Enemies, that he could not render a greater piece of Service to the State, than by dispatching Guise out of the World. This Man, by much thinking of this Design, which at first raised a horror in him, and overcome with the continual Instances of those who moved him to it, imagined that it would be really an Heroical action, and of the greatest advantage to his Country. He came thereupon and offered himself to Guise, as having abandoned the Reformed Religion; and Guise having received him with a great deal of humanity, appointed him Quarters amongst the Harbingers, and caused him to eat often at his Table. This Traitor having waited a pretty while for a convenient opportunity to put his design in Execution, and knowing that Guise who had spent the day at Portereau, in giving Orders for the general Assault, was returning, being attended only by a Page and Tristan Rostain, who was mounted upon a Mule, he hid himself behind a Nut-Tree, near which Guise was to pass, and having fired his Pistols at him at five or sixpaces distance, he shot three Bullets into his Shoulder, and galloped away full speed on a Spanish Horse that he had bought for that purpose. This accident put all the Army in a Consternation; and the Queen came in all haste to the Camp, seeming more grieved than, perhaps, she really was. The Murderer spent the Night in Galloping up and down the Wood, whither he had made his escape: But whether the horror of what he had done had disturbed his mind, or that Heaven would not that so great a Crime should remain unpunished, it was impossible for this wretch to get from the place where he had committed it, and he was taken the next day, being so weary that he was not able to stir any longer. The Queen caused him to be examined in her presence; he declared that it was the Admiral who persuaded him to kill the Duke of Guise; that at first he had found a repugnance to this action, and that having been once already in the Camp upon the same design, he had been touched with Repentance, and returned to Orleans, but that the Admiral and two Ministers, of whom Beza was one, had so pressed him, that he was not able to resist their persuasions. But they cleared themselves of this business by public Writings, and perfect Demonstrations, of their being no ways concerned in this Assassinate, and desired likewise, that Poltrot might be kept so long till the Truth was found out. And though the Admiral confessed in his Letter to the Queen, that he could not be sorry for an accident that freed the Reformed Religion from its greatest Enemy, he protested, that he had never spoken to Poltrot, and that he did not so much as know his Face. In the mean time, Guise finding his death approaching, prepared himself for it by all the actions of Piety that can be done by a Man under those Circumstances. I shall mention here some of his last Words, not such as I have imagined them, as most Historians do, but as they have been written by the Bishop of Ries, who assisted him to his last gasp, and who has Collected them in a Letter he Addresses to Charles the Ninth. After having told the Queen, that he had no other regret in leaving the World, than to leave it in a time when the King and She might have some occasion for his Service; He advised her to employ all things to make Peace; and that it was the only means of appeasing the troubles that set France in a Combustion; that she knew very well, that he had never given her any other Counsel; and that at the very time when he thought himself sure of taking Orleans, it was his Advice, That new Propositions of accommodation should be made to the Hugonots; and that in short, all those who Counselled a War, were neither good Frenchmen, nor good Servants to the King. Then turning towards his Wife, who was all in Tears near his Bed, and having put her in mind of the Affection he had always had for her, he recommended to her the Education of their mutual Children, giving her an absolute Power over them, and permitting her to retrench a third part of their shares who should be disobedient to her, to recompense those she should be most satisfied with; praying God to punish her likewise, as she would merit it, in case she had not for them the Sentiments that a good Mother ought to have. Farewell, said he to her, grasping her Hand, I perceive I have but a short time to see you: remember me without desiring to revenge my Death, since that God Commands us to pardon our Enemies, and that I do pardon him who has so grievously assassinated me. Then causing the young Prince of Joinville, his Eldest Son, to come to him, My Son, said he to him, you have heard what I have said to your Mother: The Condition thou seest me in, will be to thee, as long as thou livest, a fine Instruction of the Vanity of the things of this World, as often as thou shalt remember, that a Great General, in the midst of his Army, was not able to defend himself from the treachery of a simple Soldier. I do not say this out of Vanity, but to make thee comprehend the better, that what s●ems greatest in the Eyes of men, is nothing before God, and perhaps destroyed in a moment. I have had great Offices, which I have always endeavoured to acquit myself of, as I ought to do: Do you the same in those it shall please the King and Queen to honour thee with; but above all, think rather of meriting them by thy Services, than of obtaining them by thy Cares, and by Intrigues, which are very often Criminal. My dear Child, have always the Fear of God, and Love of Virtue, before thy Eyes: but remember, that these Sentiments are only learned and kept in the Commerce of good People; wherefore contract Friendship with such Persons as are Virtuous, and carefully avoid irregular Companies, which the Court is but too full of, and where the greatest Crimes are excused under the Notion of Follies of Youth. God judges otherwise of them than men do, and there are no small Crimes before him. I heartily beseech him, that he would bestow on thee the Grace to follow these Counsels: it is all that I wish thee, in giving thee my Benediction, and is what I am going to demand of him in Heaven, where I hope his Goodness will not disdain to receive me. Then looking upon all his Friends and his Brothers, who were weeping, he thanked them for their Cares, and desired them not to grieve for his Death: and as they exclaimed against the blackness of that horrible Assassinate, I avow to you, said he to them, that I am troubled at it for the Honour of France. I should never have believed that it could have born Men capable of committing an Action that would raise a horror in Barbarians. But God, from whom I expect Pardon for my Faults, commands us to pardon our Enemies: I heartily pardon them, and I take him to Witness the sincerity of the intentions I have had all my Life time, for the good and repose of this Kingdom. After that, he would hear no more talk of things of this World, and died at length, on the sixth day after he had received his Wound, being hardly fifty years old. He was sensibly regretted by all those whom his Death was of no advantage to. The Soldiers deplored him as their Father; and they run through all the Camp, ask one another, where they should find such another General as they had newly lost; who is it that would expose himself to dangers before them? And who would henceforward make inquiry for the wounded, and distribute to them Money with his own Hands? And, in short, who would shelter them from the rigours and hardness of the Constable? The Catholics said, that they had lost their Protector, and looked upon his Death, as a Martyr, who had suffered for the defence of the Faith. He left his Family incommoded and charged with Debts, which is perhaps as glorious to a Man who has had the chiefest Places and Offices of the Kingdom, as it is shameful for a private Person. He had all the Qualities, which have ever made the greatest Heroes; and if his Enemies have reproached him with any thing, he was not so much to be accused, as the Misfortune of the Age, and the disorders which happened during his time. He was a true Friend, a Quality pretty rare at Court: and having made the Fortune of a great number of Persons, even those who most decried his Conduct, have been obliged to allow, that he never advanced any other than Persons of a known and extraordinary Merit. He was exact, even to the doing all himself, when he was in War, going always in Person to view the Places he designed to Attack, which he understood better than any Man of that Age. He wrote all his Dispatches with his own Hand, and he spent whole Nights sometimes in so doing. When he was wounded at Boulogne, his Life was despaired of, the Chirurgeons were obliged to set their Feet against his Head to draw out the piece of the Lance that stuck in it; and they feared that the violence of the pain would make him expire in their Hands. But he was the first to encourage them; and du Bellay says, that he suffered all that cruel Operation with the same Tranquillity, as if they had only pulled away a Hair. His Civility and the sweetness of his Carriage procured him the love of all People: He never said any thing that any body could be offended at: and if some hasty Word escaped from him, he repaired it with an extraordinary care. He was told that a Gentleman, called Saint Val, complained that he had struck him with his Sword on that day that the Battle of Renty was fought, because he was too eager to engage the Enemies, and outwent his Ranks. He promised to give him satisfaction therein. And indeed, having met with him in the King's Tent, he told him before all the Company, Mounsieur de Saint Val, you ought not to be displeased at my happening to strike you with my Sword, since far from being disadvantageous to you, it makes appear how much ardour you had to sight the Enemies. I take all these Gentlemen here to Witness; and desire of you that we may live Friends as before. He was so brave, as never to be amazed at any thing; and from thence comes the presence of mind which he preserves in the greatest dangers. They once showed him a Man who had several times boasted that he would kill him. He looked squintingly upon him, and told those who had shown him to him, That Man will never kill me; he is not worth the trouble of taking into Custody. After the Death of the King of Navarre, who was killed at the Siege of Roven, it was the general apprehension, that the King's Army would disband of itself, being no longer commanded by a Prince of the Blood: And the Queen was told, that all the Officers talked of going to the Prince of Conde. No, no, Madam, said Guise to her, be not afraid, the number of those who shall quit your Army will be very small; and besides, they will be such as that we shall gain by losing them. Traitors do but hurt where they are; but if there be any here, I shall stick to them so close, and have them so well watched, that they shall not dare so much as to make a Leaf tremble. I cannot forbear adding one word more, which will help extremely to make known the Character of his mind and his humour. Some Company talking one day of the Troubles that begun to be a brooding in France, after the Death of Henry the Second, Montluc, quick and boiling, like a Gascon as he was, said, That there was no other causes of these ills, than the Ambition of the King of Navarre, who envied the great Actions of Guise, and complained every where that he had usurped over him the Government of the State. He had discoursed thereof to me, continued Montluc, Whereupon I made him answer, That if he had such great pretensions, you ought each of you, some fair Morning, to examine them with a good Sword, and that I was sure you would make good my Words. Guise, who easily foresaw the Consequences that such a Discourse might have, answered him very coldly, Montluc, have you an Order signed from the King of Navarre, to talk to me after this manner? And Montluc replying, that he had not, and that he had framed all this himself; You think, said he to him, that you are still in Piedmont, diverting yourself, in seeing your Soldier's fight against one another; learn a little, that the King of Navarre and I am not born to exercise your Imaginations. I do not believe that I have any thing to dispute with him, or that he does complain of me. When he lets me hear from him, he shall hear from me. We have long known one another. All the learned Men of his time strove to make Epitaphs on him, which are still in being. But if it is a great honour to be commended by a Man who himself merits the highest Applauses, we may say that nothing is more glorious to the memory of Guise, than the Verses which have been made of him by the Illustrious Chancellor of the Hospital. His Virtue was as much admired by Strangers, as by Frenchmen: The Italians, and the Spaniards themselves, who cannot be reproached with Commending others to excess, called him The Great Duke of Guise; and at the interview of Bayonne, which was two years after his Death, they seemed extreme earnest to see his Widow, and the Prince of Joinville his Son, never calling them otherwise than la muger y el hijo d'aquel gran Ducque di Guisa. His Body was carried to the Chartreux, and from then to Nostre Dame, where the Funeral Rites were very Magnificent, before they carried him to Joinville, where he was buried. The wretched Poltrot had the same punishment inflicted on him, as those have who have made attempts upon the sacred Persons of our Kings. But this was not the least vengeance that was taken of this Crime, and we may say, that never any one Man's Death has set so much blood a flowing, nor drawn after it so great a number of Illustrious victim. FINIS.