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A 
 / 
 
 SHORT HISTORY OF FRANCE 
 
 FOB 
 
 YOUNG- PEOPLE. 
 
 by/ 
 MISS E. S. KIRKLAND; 
 
 AUTHOR OF " SIX LITTLE COOKS," AND " DOHA'S HOUSEKEEPING." 
 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 JANSEN, McCLURG & CO. 
 
 1879. 
 
COPTEIGHT. 
 
 Jansen, McClxjkg & Co. 
 A. D. 1878. 
 
 STEREOTYF'ED AND PRINTEC 
 
 BY THE 
 
 CHICAQO LEQAL NEWS CO. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
TO 
 
 ALL MY pupils: 
 
 PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE. 
 
00]S"TE]S"TS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 I. — Gaul befoke Christ, . . . . 7 
 
 11. — Gaul under the Emperors, ... 15 
 III. — Clovis, King op the Franks. A. D. 481 — 
 
 511, 23 
 
 IV. — The later Merovingians. 511 — 752, . 34 
 
 V. — Pepin and Charlemagne. 752 — 814, . 43 
 
 VI. — The later Carlovingians. 814 — 987, . 51 
 
 VII.— The FIRST Capetians. 987—1108, . . 58 
 
 VIII.— Louis VI. and his Son. 1108—1180, . 66 
 
 IX.— Philip Augustus. Louis VIII. 1180— 
 
 1226, 73 
 
 X. — St. Louis. Philip the Bold, 1226 — 
 
 1285, 81 
 
 XI. — Philip the Fair and his Sons. 1285 — 
 
 1328, 90 
 
 XIL— Philip OF Valois. John the Good. 1328 
 
 —1364, 99 
 
 XIII.— Charles the Wise. 1364—1380, . .111 
 XIV. — Charles the Well-beloved. 1380 — 
 
 1422, 120 
 
 XV.— Charles THE Victorious. 1422—1461, . 131 
 
 XVI.— Louis XT. 1461—1483, .... 145 
 
 XVIL— Charles VIII. Louis XII. 1483—1515, . 154 
 
 XVIII.—Francis I. 1515—1547 165 
 
 XIX.— Henry II. Francis II. 1547—1560, . 176 
 
 XX.-Charles IX. Henry III. 1560—1589, . 186 
 
 XXI.— Henry OF Navarre. 1589—1610, . . 198 
 
 XXII.— Louis XIII. 1610—1643, . . . . 210 
 
 XXIIL— Louis XIV. 1643—1715, .... 219 
 
 XXIV.— To THE Peace of Nimeguen. 1678, . 230 
 
 XXV.— To the Death op Louis XIV. 1715, . 240 
 
 ( ■) 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 XXVI.— Louis XV. 1715—1774 252 
 
 XXVIL— The End OF A Bad Life. 1748—1774. . 260 
 
 XXVIIL— Louis XVL 1774—1793, .... 269 
 
 XXIX.— The French Revolution. 1789, . . 279 
 XXX. — The Revolution, continued. 1789 — 
 
 1790, 290 
 
 XXXI. — From the Flight of the King to his 
 
 Death. 1791—1793, ..... 299 
 
 XXXII.— The Reign OF Terror. 1793—1794, . 311 
 XXXIIL — The Directory. Day of the Sections. 
 
 1795, 320 
 
 XXXIV. — Bonaparte's First Campaigns. 1796 — 
 
 1799, 328 
 
 XXXV.— The Consulate. 1799—1804, . . .336 
 XXXVI.-The Empire. 1804—1814, . . .345 
 
 XXXVII. — From the Expedition' to Russia, to the 
 
 Return FROM Elba. 1812 — 1815, . . 355 
 XXXVIII. — The Hundred Days. To the Revolu- 
 tion of July. 1815—1830, . . . 366 
 XXllX.— Louis Philippe. 1830-1848, . . ' . 375 
 XL.— The Second Empire. 1852—1870, . . 383 
 The Third Republic. 1870, . . .391 
 
 List of Kings, 397 
 
A 
 
 SHORT HISTORY OF FRANCE 
 
 FOR 
 
 YOUlSra PEOPLE. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 GAUL BEFORE CHRIST. 
 
 T is hard to realize, as one travels now through 
 fertile France and sees the well-tilled fields, 
 noble cities, and vineyards heavy with their 
 purple fruit, that it was once covered by tangled for- 
 ests, whose only inhabitants were wild beasts and men 
 nearly as savage as they. Indeed, one might almost 
 have mistaken the man for the animal at a little dis- 
 tance, for they both wore coverings of skins and never 
 combed their hair; but when you saw the human being 
 drinking out of a cup formed from the skull of his 
 enemy, then 3'ou knew he must be a man, for wild 
 beasts are not so reveno-eful. 
 
 ■ The old name for France was Gaul, and the people 
 who lived there before the time of Christ are supposed 
 to have come from Central Asia, and to have belonged 
 to one of the fierce races called Celtic, which spread 
 over the western part of Europe before history begins. 
 
 (7) 
 
8 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 But all this is uncertain; and thouo;li the various 2:uesscs 
 about it form an interesting stud}'-, we must limit our- 
 selves now to what we can be sure of. Before going 
 further, let me advise the young student always to 
 have a map open before him while reading history. 
 This will fix in his mind the situations of different 
 places, and help him to make a sort of picture for 
 himself of what was going on. 
 
 About six hundred years before Christ, a ship con- 
 taining a few Greeks from Phocea, a town in Asia 
 Minor, which was itself settled from Greece, landed on 
 the shore of a beautiful bay of the Mediterranean, in 
 the south of what is now France. Being kindly 
 received by the chief of a tribe of Gauls near by, they 
 sent back to their native town for more settlers, and 
 gradually built a city, to which they gave the name of 
 Massilia, and which still exists as ^^kiarseilles. 
 
 Of that part of Gaul which lay outside of this colony 
 we know but little before the time of its conquest by 
 Cgesar, but its inhabitants forced themselves on the 
 notice of other nations at a much earlier date, by 
 terrible invasions which made them the dread of their 
 civilized neighbors. From time to time, they poured 
 down into Italy, seeking in its fertile soil pasturage 
 for the flocks and herds which saved them the trouble 
 of tilling the ground; and more than once these 
 barbarians burned the city of Rome itself. 
 
 In the time of Alexander the Great, some of them 
 wandered far enough to the East to meet with that 
 famous warrior, to whom they offered their services in 
 boastful language. He called them " swaggerers," but 
 found them brave in battle, and after his death many of 
 
GAUL BEFORE CHRIST. 9 
 
 than remained in the service of his generals. -It was 
 not long, however, before they grew tired of fighting 
 other people's battles, and determined to make war 
 on their own account. A ferocious and insolent chief, 
 ovhran^ whom the Romans called Brennus, and who 
 had already done much mischief in Italy, resolved to 
 pillage the rich shrine of Apollo at Delphi. He was 
 successful in his first attack on the Greeks, but their 
 natural spirit being roused, they joined together for 
 a vio'orous defense and defeated him. 
 
 O 
 
 Upon this Brennus stabbed himself, leaving orders 
 for his officers to cut the throats of their own wounded 
 men, to prevent them from falling into the enemy's 
 hands, and then to flee from the country with what 
 soldiers they had left. This was done, and Greece 
 was saved for that time. It was Brennus who first 
 used the well known exclamation " Vse victis !" "Woe 
 to the vanquished !" which so truly and terribly ex- 
 pressed the state of those who fell into his power. 
 
 It would be pleasant, if one had the time, to write a 
 whole book about the doings of these strange people 
 as they swept over one country after another, and to 
 repeat all the stories, some true and some false, which 
 are told of them by the nations whom they visited. 
 But we must hasten back to Gaul itself, and can only 
 take a glance at what its warriors did in foreig-n lands. 
 The name of Galatia, in Asia Minor (to whose people 
 St. Paul wrote one of his epistles), still reminds us that 
 a colony of Gauls once settled there, and Galicia, in 
 Spain, owes its name to the same cause. In Italy the 
 Gauls forced the Romans to give them a district south 
 of the Alps, which in later times was re-conquered by 
 
10 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Rome and called Cisalpine Gaul, Cis meaning " o: 
 this side "; the country north of it was called Trans 
 alpine, trans meaning "across," or "beyond." After 
 ward Cisalpine Gaul was called Gallia Togata, becausi 
 the inhabitants wore the Roman toga^ or gown; anc;. 
 the other Gallia Braccata, from the breeches or short 
 trowsers worn there. 
 
 When the Romans made tbemselves masters of this 
 province, they declared solemnly that the Alps were a 
 barrier placed by nature between Italy and Gaul, and 
 •pronounced a curse on whoever should attempt to 
 cross it. In spite of this declaration, they soon began 
 to cast their eyes towards the pleasant region of w^hich 
 Massilia was the centre, and about a hundred and 
 fifty years before Christ, an opportunity occurred of 
 securing it, which was too tempting to be thrown away. 
 
 The Massilians had become engaged in a struggle 
 with the Gallic tribes around them, and finding 
 themselves likely to get the worst of it, ajDplied to 
 Rome for aid. It is the old story over again. The 
 barbarians were driven away, but those who had come 
 to help stayed to conquer, and slowly but surely the 
 descendants of the Greek colonists found themselves 
 transformed into subjects of the victorious Romans. 
 
 The Gauls in the north had their own troubles. 
 Having quarrelled among themselves, some of them 
 called in the aid of Ariovistus, a German chieftain 
 from beyond the Rhine. Unfortunate invitation ! 
 Ariovistus came very willingly, and after conquering 
 the enemy he proceeded to make himself master of 
 those who had asked him for help. Immense num- 
 bers of his countrymen poured into Gaul, as indeed 
 
GAUL BEFORE CHRIST. 11 
 
 they had begun to do before this time, and the inhab- 
 itants soon saw that they had only the choice of being 
 enslaved by the barbarian or by the Roman. 
 
 It is just at this point that Julius Caesar comes upon 
 the scene. To us, who can see all that followed as 
 well as what went before, it is plain that it would 
 have been better for the German warrior to retire at 
 once to his native forests, and occupy himself in hunt- 
 ing wild beasts or fighting his fellow-countrymen; but 
 he could not see this, and rushed headlong upon his 
 fate. Trusting to his own skill, and the bravery of his 
 soldiers, he insisted on giving battle to Caesar, who 
 warned him to retire. His men fouo-ht like tisrers, but 
 Roman discipline carried the day, and the barbarians 
 were driven in disgrace across the Rhine, after losing 
 fifty thousand men. Ariovistus was one of those who 
 fled, but died soon afterwards, whether from his 
 wounds or from rage and despair seems uncertain. 
 Ceesar went on triumphantly in his career of conquest, 
 and in a few years saw all Gaul at his feet, though the 
 natives made some heroic efforts to save their country 
 from slavery. 
 
 There is a sad story of a young nobleman whom 
 Caesar calls Vercingetorix, which in the Gallic lan- 
 guage meant " chief of a hundred chiefs," who got 
 together a great army of patriots while Caesar was 
 away in Italy, and tried to drive the hated invader 
 out of the country, but in vain. He showed not only 
 wonderful courage and perseverance, but military 
 skill also, which would astonish us if we did not know 
 that the Gauls had been all this time learning from 
 their enemies. At last there was nothing left for 
 
12 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 him to do but to give up, and being led into Caesar's 
 presence, splendidly dressed, he knelt in silence at his 
 feet, hoping no doubt that the great conqueror might 
 tak6 pleasure in showing mercy, but Cgesar was too 
 mnch irritated by the resistance he had met with to be 
 magnanimous. Poor Yercingetorix was thrown into a 
 'dungeon, and after years of weary captivity, was drag- 
 ged from his prison to walk in chains behind Csesar's 
 chariot at a triumph, and then led back to immediate 
 execution. 
 
 With his failure died the last hope of liberty for 
 Gaul. From this time Caesar met with no serious 
 trouble there, and spent his time in strengthening 
 his government and trying to reconcile the natives 
 to it. Nine years after his first entrance, during which 
 time the invasion of Britain took place, most of the 
 Roman soldiers were withdrawn, leaving only enough 
 to secure their conquest. Nine terrible years they 
 had been, marked by horrors which in these more 
 peaceful times we can scarcely imagine, though war is 
 always bad enough. The Romans did not know what 
 mercy was, in treating those whom they had con- 
 quered; and if we may believe their own writers, it 
 was not uncommon for them, when they had taken a 
 city, to put to death every creature they found within 
 its walls, not sparing even the women and children. 
 
 The people of Gaul had changed very much, as you 
 may imagine, between the time when the Greeks first 
 landed on their shores and that when Julius Cajsar 
 saw them. They had learned to like bright colors in 
 dress, arid to adorn themselves with heavy gold chains, 
 bracelets and other ornaments. Their women must 
 
GAUL BEFORE CHRIST. 13 
 
 have been quite skillful, for they wove gay plaids 
 for their husbands' clothes, and made their cloaks in 
 •true military fashion. 
 
 These old Gauls looked very different from a 
 modern Frenchman. They were tall and broad- 
 shouldered, with fair complexion and blue eyes, and 
 when thev went to battle their lono^ lig-ht hair and 
 beards streamed in the wind, and must have been some- 
 times rather in the way. They attached so much im- 
 portance to keeping their bodies in good fighting order, 
 that the youth who became fat was punished for fear 
 it should make him lazy ; and to teach the soldiers to 
 be in time, the last man who arrived when an army 
 was assembling was put to death. One quality which 
 we notice in these barbarians is their great pride, 
 which led them to consider themselves superior to 
 every body else. One of them said on seeing the 
 closely packed ranks of Roman soldiers, " There is 
 not a meal for my dogs !" But his dogs did not feed 
 on the Romans nevertheless. 
 
 The women of this long-haired nation (for so the 
 Romans always speak of the Gauls), are described as 
 being, if possible, fiercer in battle than their husbands 
 and brothers-. When opposed to the enemy they 
 gnashed their teeth, stretched out their necks and 
 brandished their arms like windmills; then they would 
 pound with their heavy fists in a way which few Roman 
 skulls could withstand. It is related of their northern 
 neighbors, the wives of the Oimbrians or Kyrari, that 
 after a disastrous battle they were left at the mercy of 
 the victors, andknowing well what such mercy was, they 
 determined to take the matter into their own hands. 
 
14 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 They first killed all their children by strangling or 
 crushing them; then they hanged themselves, or sought 
 death in even more dreadful ways. After this the 
 Romans had still an army of dogs to conquer, for 
 these faithful creatures, furious as wolves, defended 
 the bodies of the slain, until at leno-th not a livins: 
 
 ■'CD O 
 
 creature remained to protest against their victory. 
 
 The houses from which these warriors issued were 
 not such as to tempt them to stay at home much of the 
 time. They were made of wood or clay, and were 
 somewhat like an old-fashioned bee-hive in shape, 
 which would have done very well if there had been 
 plenty of windows; but just imagine the only light 
 and air they had coming in through the door! I should 
 rather saj^- the door-hole, for doors to open and shut 
 were the invention of a later time. But the Gauls 
 were quick at learning, and by the time Cassar had 
 done with them everything was changed. They 
 adopted the Roman customs and habits, which were 
 certainly more convenient than their own, and some 
 of them even took the Roman names, so much 
 smoother and shorter than theirs. One Vercundori- 
 dub named himself after Julius Co3sar; — a change 
 probably gratifying to the Romans though unflattering 
 to the Gauls, — certainly amusing to us moderns. 
 
 The religion of the Gauls was the Druid, the same 
 which prevailed m Britain. You know from-reading 
 English history what -this was; that with much that 
 was noble the Druid priests mingled the horrible 
 practice of human sacrifices, and that they were also 
 law- givers and poets. They believed in a future life, and 
 like our North America Indians, had horses, dogs, and 
 
GAUL UNDER THE EMPEROBS. 15 
 
 sometimes even slaves burned on the funeral pile or 
 buried with the dead man, that he might have proper 
 attendants in the other world. Let us hope that they 
 generally killed these poor victims first; but I fear 
 that this was not always the case. 
 
 The Gauls were in advance of modern savages in 
 one respect; they had a great regard for women. One 
 wife was enough for them, and they treated her with 
 respect, even allowing her to give her opinion in their 
 councils. In return, the Gallic wife seems to have 
 worked for her husband with all her heart. She took 
 care of his house, such as it was, fought b}'- his side in 
 battle, and trained up his young warriors to the best 
 of her ability, and if he gave her a beating occasionally, 
 it was not for want of understanding her worth, but 
 only that she might be suitably impressed with his 
 dignity and kept in her proper position. 
 
 GSAPTUB II, 
 
 GAUL UNDER THE EMPEROES. 
 
 HE history of Gaul for the next five hundred 
 years shows us what was the course of things 
 !1 wherever the Romans carried their victorious 
 arms. The people, as soon as they had become accus- 
 tomed to their new masters, adopted their habits and 
 customs; and it was not long before Gaul began to 
 rival Rome itself in the luxury of its wealthier inhab- 
 itants. The nobles built superb palaces, filled with 
 
16 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 everything rare and costly, and spent their time in 
 frivolous amusements or indolent repose. But all this 
 had to be paid for by somebody, and the laboring 
 classes were the source from which this ceaseless 
 stream of wealth flowed, wruno^ from them amid siroans 
 and bitter tears. 
 
 So cruel were the demands made upon them, that 
 to escape the exactions of their taskmasters they would 
 fly from their country, or even sell themselves for 
 slaves. But where could any one be out of the power 
 of Rome? In all known lands she could pursue the 
 wretched victim and force him back to his place, there 
 to expiate, perhaps by the scourge or other torture, the 
 crime of having dared to resist her will. The slaves 
 alone felt no material difference; their condition had 
 always been so miserable that it could scarcely change 
 for the worse; their life and limbs were at the mercy 
 of their owners as before, and though without hope 
 of anything better, they had also no lower depth of 
 misery to fear. 
 
 Perhaps you will get a better idea of what was 
 meant by Roman taxation if you read the words of 
 an old Latin writer about it, than by any description 
 of mine. He says : " The lands were measured out to 
 the last clod ; trees and vines were counted ; every 
 head of cattle was entered on the tax-list, every human 
 beiijg was registered; nothing was heard but whips 
 and cries of torment. The faithful slave was tortured 
 to force him to depose against his master (to tell what 
 property he had), the wife against her husband, the 
 son ao-ainst his father. No excuse was admitted on 
 the score of ag:e or sickness : meanwhile the animals 
 
GAUL UNDER THE EMPERORS. 
 
 were diminishing, the men were dying off, and still the 
 tax was exacted for the dead." 
 
 You have read in the history of Rome what an im- 
 portant part Gaul plays in the first centuries after 
 Christ. Augustus, who had been reigning twenty- 
 seven years at the beginning of the Christian era, lived 
 for several years at Lugdunum (now called Lyons), 
 which was then the capital of Gaul. The Emperor 
 Claudius was" born there, and Caligula, the half-crazy 
 and all-wicked tyrant, for some time made Gaul the 
 scene of his mad freaks. Claudius was the most liberal 
 and humane of all the emperors in respect to that 
 province, and granted important privileges to the peo- 
 ple. He was, however, very harsh toward the Druids, 
 whom Augustus had previously humbled to a great 
 extent; Claudius not only drove them out of Gaul, but 
 pursued them into Britain, about a hundred years after 
 the first invasion of that country by Julius Cassar. Up 
 to this time the two religions — the Druidism of Gaul 
 and the Paganism of Rome — had existed side by side; 
 but after its priests were driven out, Druidism ceased 
 to have any hold on the minds of the people, and a 
 belief in the gods of Rome prevailed until the intro- 
 duction of Christianity. 
 
 Although the Romans were entirely masters of 
 Southern Gaul, there still broke out, from time to time, 
 some sparks of a desire for freedom elsewhere, fin 
 Belgica, as the northern part was called, a man named 
 Civilis undertook to raise a rebellion in the reign of 
 the Emperor Vespasian. He induced many tribes to 
 join him, and proclaimed Sabinus, a Gallic citizen, as 
 emperor. When the rebellion was put down, Civilis, 
 2 
 
18 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 who was a foreigner, was pardoned, but Sabinus, being 
 a Roman subject, could expect no mercy, and con- 
 cealed himself in some vaults in the neighborhood of 
 his house. This was known to a faithful slave of his, 
 who set fire to the house and then spread the report 
 that his master had perished in the flames. When 
 Eponina, the wife of Sabinus, heard this, she was 
 nearly frantic; but learning the truth from the slave, 
 she braved every danger in order to visit her husband 
 in his hiding-place. He directed her to keep up the 
 show of mourning for him, and she joined him in the 
 vault, where they spent nine years together, cared for 
 by their devoted servant. 
 
 After the first few months, Eponina formed a plan 
 of asking for pardon from the emperor, who was said 
 to be more merciful than any who had been before 
 him. So she had her husband's head and beard shaved, 
 dressed him like a slave, and having disguised herself, 
 they reached Rome safely. On arriving there, how- 
 ever, the friends who were in the secret advised them 
 not to trust themselves to the doubtful mercy of Ves- 
 pasian, and they retired to their cellar and might have 
 passed the rest of their lives there, happy in each 
 other's society, but that on a second visit of Eponina 
 to Rome she was discovered, and they were both taken 
 prisoners. On being carried before the cruel Em- 
 peror, Eponina threw herself at his feet, and showing 
 him the two beautiful bovs who had been born while 
 they were living in the cave, she begged forgiveness 
 for her husband. It was of no use; Sabinus was con- 
 demned to death, and Eponina, asking as a special 
 favor that she might share his fate, was beheaded at 
 
GAUL UNDER THE EMPEROBS. 19 
 
 the same time. The boys lived to be men, but could 
 do nothing for their country, and the Gauls sank 
 deeper and deeper into the degradation of slavery. 
 
 But the time was com in o; when the truth which was 
 to make them "free indeed" would dawn upon them 
 and lio-hten their darkness, thous-h it was not without 
 terrible experiences of the cruelty of man, that the 
 believers in Christ's religion at last saw the end of the 
 old and the triumph of the new. 
 
 About a hundred and sixty years after Christ, some 
 Christian missionaries from Asia Minor came to Gaul 
 and settled at Lugdunum ; for a long time they were 
 allowed to gather converts there, and many churches 
 arose in the midst of heathen population. At length, 
 however, the jealous passion of the latter, were aroused, 
 and they felt a deep hatred towards the pure, simple 
 minded people whose holy lives were a constant re- 
 proach to their own self-indulgence. It was easy 
 to start a persecution ; for sad to say, the better man 
 an emperor was, the more he felt it necessary to punish 
 those whom he considered enemies of the gods and 
 therefore of true religion. So these saints, as we call 
 them now, though they would not have given them- 
 selves any such title, were subjected to every species 
 of cruelty which the ingenuity of their enemies could 
 invent, and most of them bore it all with a heroism 
 far greater than was ever shown by a warrior on the 
 field of battle. 
 
 It must not be thought that the emperors were 
 entirely responsible for all the horrors committed in 
 these persecutions. They were told that the Christ- 
 ians were wicked people, guilty of the most abomina- 
 
20 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 ble practices, and without giving themselves the 
 trouble to inquire fully into the matter, thev gave 
 general orders for punishing them. These orders 
 vrere carried out often hundreds of miles av\ray from 
 where the emperors were, and the brutal passions of the 
 pagan mob added tortures to them which their authors 
 never dreamed of. 
 
 The church continued to be subject to persecutions 
 for about a hundred and fifty years, though sometimes 
 enjoying long periods of repose. Early in the fourth 
 century the emperor Oonstantine declared himself a 
 Christian, and the scattered and tormented churches 
 soon formed a network over the land, scarcely to 
 to be broken even by the wild wave of barbarism 
 which with the invasion . of the Franks in the next 
 century, again swept over the country. AYhen jou go 
 to Paris, you will see, a little outside of the city, a hill 
 called Montmartre, which means "Mountain of mar- 
 tyrs;" and the old cathedral of St. Denis, not far off, 
 was built in memory of the martyr Dionysius, who 
 suffered there, and whose name gradually became 
 shortened as you see. 
 
 This cutting down of names is sometimes a little 
 puzzling. One would not suspect that the modern 
 town of Autun, in France, was at first called Augusto- 
 dunum, in honor of the emperor Augustus. It is easier 
 to recoo-nize in Orleans the name of Aurelian. But 
 when we hear that the town of Aix was originally 
 Aquse Sextiae (the waters of Sextius, so called because 
 Sextius discovered the mineral springs there), our in- 
 genuity is taxed to the utmost. The district in France 
 called Provence, in which the town of Aix is situated, 
 
GAUL UNDER THE EMPERORS. 21 
 
 naturally received its name from being the first Roman 
 province. Not only these names of places, but also 
 nearly all other French words are derived directly from 
 the Latin. 
 
 About two hundred and fifty years after Christ we 
 first begin to hear of people called the Franks, a name 
 given to many different tribes in Germany, who had an 
 unpleasant habit of crossing the Rhine in great num- 
 bers and fighting furiously with the people of Gaul. 
 The Roman general Aurelian, afterwards emperor, was 
 the first to meet these invaders and drive them back 
 into their native forests, and his success delighted his 
 countrymen so much that a song was made in his honor 
 and sung by the soldiers. These are the only words 
 of it which have come down to us : 
 
 "Mille Francos, mille Sarmatas, semel occidiraus : 
 Mille, mille, mille. mille Persas quserimus." 
 
 "We have already killed a thousand Franks and a 
 a thousand Sarmatians; we want a thousand, thousand, 
 thousand, thousand Persians." This is the first time 
 th.t the name of Franks appears in history, and Aure- 
 lian perhaps thought it would be the last; but they 
 were not so easily discouraged. They kept on coming 
 and being driven back for the next two hundred years, 
 each Emperor finding himself a little less able than 
 the last to get rid of them. At last they grew so num- 
 erous that there was no hope of dislodging them, and 
 their presence in Gaul was accepted as a disagreeable 
 necessity. 
 
 But the Franks were not the only people destined 
 to be the despair of the Romans in those unhappy 
 days. Attila, the scourge of God ! What visions of 
 
22 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 horror does this name call up before us! We seem to 
 see his hideous face, with its flat nose, dark skin, and 
 ugly little eyes, his huge head on a short, stumpy 
 body, his thin gray hair and straggling beard, — all these 
 present themselves to our minds when we think of the 
 savage who said of himself: " The stars fall at my 
 approach; the earth trembles; I am the hammer of the 
 universe!" How far this ferocious chief had traveled 
 before he attacked the trembling nations who occupied 
 Gaul we have no means of knowing, but the Huns, 
 whom he commanded, started from that vast plain 
 of Central Asia to which we give the general name 
 of Scythia without kriowing its exact limits. The 
 horrible cruelties practised by his soldiers, the ravages 
 which marked his bloody path, the noble cities 
 destroyed by his army, are subjects too painful to 
 dwell upon, iSut at last the battle of Chalons put an 
 end to his victorious career, and saved Western Europe 
 from immediate destruction. This was one of the 
 bloodiest combats ever fought. Such a trampling of 
 human heads under horses' feet, such frantic slashing 
 and hewing, have seldom been seen since men began 
 to fight. The struggle lasted through a long June 
 day, and so evenly were the armies matched that when 
 night fell, no one could tell which side had won. 
 
 In the morning, when the field of dead and dying 
 lay revealed to view, it is no wonder that neither 
 army cared to renew the conflict. Attila, by staying 
 quietly in his camp instead of rushing against his 
 enemies as usual, confessed himself beaten, and when 
 he sullenly retired toward the south the Roman gen- 
 eral judged it prudent not to follow him. 
 
CLOVIS, KING OF THE FRANKS. 28 
 
 After the fall of the Roman Empire, 476, A. D., 
 the Franks continued to grow in power and impor- 
 tance, and ended by establishing themselves firmly 
 in Gaul, which from them began about this time to be 
 called Francia. Their name used to be thought to 
 mean Freemen, but recent writers say that it has more 
 nearly the sio:nifi cation of our word ferocious, and 
 comes from an old name for a battle-axe. 
 
 CHAPTER III, 
 
 CLOVIS, KING OF THE FRANKS — A. D. 481-511. 
 
 HE French monarchy is generally considered 
 to begin with Clovis, though he had several 
 ^ half-imaginary ancestors who are sometimes 
 included in the list of sovereigns. The old writers 
 tell us about one Pharamond, whom they call the first 
 king of the Franks; but he seems to be a person even 
 more mythical than the British king Arthur, and so 
 much nonsense is mixed up with the accounts of him 
 that it will be the safest way to let him drop altogeth- 
 er. But his son Clodion (if Clodion was his son) was 
 really a brave warrior, who fought against the Roman 
 consul Aetius, and was defeated by him. Meroveus, 
 the son of Clodion, was the one from whom the first 
 royal family of France, the Merovingian, took its 
 name; and Childeric, son of Meroveus, was the father 
 of Clovis. 
 
 What title these chiefs bore in their own lano-uao-e. 
 
24 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 is of little consequence. They were the founders of a 
 long line of monarchs, and Ciodion is said to have 
 taken delight in the name of the " long-haired," which 
 was borne by his descendants, flowing hair being only 
 allowed amono; kinof-s and nobles. It must be remem- 
 bered always that they were not kings of France, but 
 of tlie Franks, which was quite a different thing. 
 When Clovis becavne king, he did not own a foot of 
 land in what is now called France. His father, Chil- 
 deric, was kino- of that division called the Salian 
 Franks, possessing only a small portion of land in Bel- 
 gica, within the limits of modern Belgium, and had 
 found it hard work to hold his own without trying to 
 get an^'thing away from his neighbors. By the time 
 that Clovis reached manhood, however, the scene 
 changes. He was. only fifteen years old when he came 
 to the throne, and at twenty he fought a battle at Sois- 
 sons with the Roman governor Syagrius, defeated him, 
 and thus swept away the last faint trace of Roman do- 
 minion in Gaul. That part of the country not occu- 
 pied by the Franks was divided between the Burgun- 
 diansand Visigoths, who had also taken advantage of 
 the decay of the Roman power to establish themselves 
 on this fertile soil. 
 
 A story told about Clovis shows the rough manners 
 of the times and his own politic, yet revengeful dispo- 
 sition. Among the spoil distributed after the battle of 
 Soissons was a rich vase, which had been taken some 
 time before from a church in Rheims. The bishop of 
 that city asked Clovis to restore it, which the latter 
 promised to do, and requested that in the general 
 division this vase mio-ht be allotted to him in addition 
 
CLOVIS, KING OF THE FRANKS. 25 
 
 to his rifrhtful share, so that he miorht return it to the 
 church. The soldiers agreed to this by general con- 
 sent, for it was to CI o vis that they owed the victory, 
 and this was a small favor to ask where there was an 
 abundance of booty for all. But a vain and foolish 
 Frank, jealous of the praises bestowed on Clovis, struck 
 the vase a violent blow with his battle-axe, saying, 
 "You shall have nothing but what comes to you fairly 
 by lot." Clovis made no reply, but delivered the vase 
 to the messenger just as it was, accepting apparently 
 the condition that it should be included in his portion. 
 A year afterwards, as he was reviewing his troops, 
 he passed before each one in turn till he came to the 
 offending soldier. Snatching away the man's battle- 
 axe and throwing it on the ground, he reproved him 
 sharply for not keeping it in better order. As the 
 other stooped to pick it up, the king swung his own 
 battle-axe with both hands in the air, bringing it down 
 with a terrible crash on the skull of the unfortunate 
 man, and thundered out the words, " So you did to the 
 vase at Soissons! " 
 
 A bold act of vengeance like this did more to im- 
 press the minds of the half-savage warriors who were 
 looking on than a year of steady discipline would 
 have done, and Clovis found after this that his soldiers 
 were cured of all desire to mutiny. 
 
 The Franks themselves called this chieftain Chlod- 
 wig, which is the same name with the German Ludwig, 
 the French Louis and the English Lewis. The Latin 
 form being short and easy to pronounce has been re- 
 tained by most modern historians, but it must not be for- 
 gotten that for several hundred years these conquerors 
 
26 HISTORY OF FRANCE. ^ 
 
 of Gaul continued to be Germans in feelino- and lau- 
 guage. It would be a mistake to think of them as 
 French. 
 
 After the battle of Soissons, Clovis began to think 
 it was time for him to take a wife, and his marriage was 
 a matter of more importance than such matters usually 
 are to kings ; for on it was to depend, for a time at 
 least, the religion of the new France. He and most 
 of his countrymen were still Pagans, while the Gauls 
 had all by this time become Christians, as had also the 
 Visigoths in the south of France, and the Burgundians 
 iu the east. 
 
 It would appear that none of the Frankish maidens 
 were especially pleasing to Clovis; for, hearing of the 
 great beauty and other charms of Clotilda, niece of the 
 King of Burgundy, he sent to ask her hand in mar- 
 riage. Her uncle would have preferred not to bestow 
 her upon a pagan, but he did not dare to refuse the 
 victor of Soissons; so he gave the lovely Clotilda into 
 the hands of the messengers- sent to demand her, and 
 after a journey which must have been a very exciting 
 one to her, she was conducted into the presence of the 
 king. If she had not turned out to be as handsome as 
 report had made her, Clovis would probably not have 
 hesitated to send her back again; but he was more 
 than satisfied — he was delighted, and the marriage 
 took place forthwith. 
 
 Clovis continued firm in his old belief, and when a 
 little son was born and Clotilda wished to have it bap- 
 tized, the rough king refused, saying that her God 
 was no better than the rest, and that in fact, there was 
 no proof that he was a god at all; Clotilda had her 
 
CLOVIS, KING OF THE FRANKS. 27 
 
 way, however, and the little prince was christened 
 with great solemnity, the Queen hoping in this way to 
 influence her pagan husband, who no doubt loved im- 
 posing ceremonies. But to the great disappointment 
 of both, the child soon died, and then Clovis reproached 
 his wife, saying that if it had been baptized in the 
 name of one of his gods it would have lived, but that 
 a baptism in the name of hers was as good as none at 
 all. What answer she made to this bitter taunt we 
 are not informed; but the fact that when a second 
 son was born he was baptized just as the other had 
 been, seems to show that the quarrel was not very 
 serious. 
 
 Before long this child also was taken sick and the 
 king was indignant enough. " How could it be other- 
 wise?" he said to the anxious mother; " baptized in the 
 name of your Christ, you could not expect anything 
 else." However, the baby was cured, and Clovis began 
 to have a little more respect for the God of Clotilda: 
 and he was soon destined to change his mind so entire- 
 ly that his wife must have felt quite repaid for all the 
 efforts she had made to bring him round to her way of 
 thinking. 
 
 When Clovis had been reigning fifteen years, several 
 tribes of the Allemanni, a powerful German nation 
 whose name still survives in AUemagne, the French 
 word for Germany, crossed the Rhine and invaded the 
 country of a division of Franks called Ripuarians, 
 whose capital was Cologne. 
 
 As the Salian Franks were on good terms with their 
 eastern neighbors, Clovis marched at once to the relief 
 of the latter, and a great battle was fought at Tolbiac, 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 near Cologne. The armies were well, matched, the 
 fight was bloody, and for some time it seemed uncer- 
 tain which side would conquer ; but in the midst of 
 the strap-ofle Clovis raised his hands to Heaven and 
 vowed that if Clotilda's God would give him the vic- 
 tory, he would become a Christian. Then he rushed in 
 among the enemy more furiously than ever, his sol- 
 ' diers were animated by his example, the German king 
 was killed and the enemy driven from the field. 
 
 Another account of this conversion is that Clovis 
 had promised his wife before setting out that he would 
 turn Christian if he was successful; but whichever 
 one we take, we can see that he was still much of a 
 Pagan at "heart and thought Clotilda's only one of many 
 gods who might give him the victory if they chose. 
 We will hope that before being baptized by the good 
 bishop St. Remy, he was better instructed, though, 
 unhappily, his conduct during the rest of his life did 
 not show that he had a very intelligent idea of what 
 such a change meant. "Bow thine head" said the 
 bishop to him at his baptism; " adore what thou hast 
 burned; burn what thou hast adored!" Then he was 
 anointed with holy oil which we are told was brought 
 from heaven by a dove for that special purpose, and 
 more than three thousand of his bravest soldiers were 
 baptized at the same time. This was on Christmas 
 day, 496 A. D. 
 
 The conversion of Clovis was of far greater impor- 
 tance to the prosperity of the people of Gaul than 
 would appear at first sight. They had up to this time 
 consisted of various groups, without any interests in 
 common and in some cases bitterly opposed to each 
 
CLOVIS, KING OF THE FRANKS. 29 
 
 other; they were now about to begin on a period 
 when, being brought under one rule, they were 
 to " pull together " as it were, for the common glor}?- 
 of all. The Christian Church had by this time become 
 one of the well-recognized governing powers of civil- 
 ized Europe. In all the oppressions and want suffered 
 by the lower orders, it was to the bishops that they 
 looked for help and defence, and for the redress of 
 their many grievances; and by allying himself with the 
 clergy, Clovis secured their support and consequently 
 the chief influence in the country. 
 
 Having secured these important friends, Clovis now 
 began to think of enlarging his dominions. He first 
 reduced to submission the people of Armorica (that 
 peninsula in the west of France which was afterward 
 called Brittany), and then turned his attention to Bur- 
 gundy, whose king was a hateful old tyrant who had 
 murdered two of his own brothers, the father of Queen 
 Clotilda being one of them. This bad man was glad 
 to buy peace by offering Clovis an annual tribute in 
 money, so Burgundy, as well as Armorica, was added 
 by Clovis to the countries which owned his sway. Biit 
 he had no idea of stopping here. He turned his newly- 
 adopted piety to good account by saying to his sol- 
 diers, " What a shame it. is that the fairest part of Gaul 
 should be in possession of those Arian heretics!" 
 meaninor the VisijTOths in the south, who did not believe 
 in the same form of Christianity that he did. You may 
 be sure that the soldiers asked nothing better than to 
 do some more fighting, with Clovis at their head; so 
 the army set out on its march. 
 
 An incident is related which shows how strongly 
 
30 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 this king felt the importance of keeping on good terms 
 with the church. As he was crossing the territory of 
 Tours, he forbade the soldiers to take anything except 
 grass and water, out of respect to Saint Martin, the 
 patron saint of that district. One of them thought 
 -he would be safe in stealing some hay, which he 
 said was only dried grass, from a poor man who strug- 
 gled hard to keep his property. When Clovis heard of 
 this he cut off the soldier's head with one blow of 
 his sword, saying; "What will become of us if we 
 offend St. Martin?" Whether he ordered the hay to 
 be restored to the poor man, or paid for, is not stated. 
 That was probably not thought any part of the atone- 
 ment. You know that in those days an army was 
 expected to take whatever it wanted from the country- 
 people along its line of march, and it was only the 
 policy or piety of the king that in this particular 
 case made a difference. 
 
 Clovis met the Visigoths not far from Poitiers, and 
 a dreadful battle was fought, in which he killed their 
 king Alario with his own hand, and put their army to 
 flight. But Theodoric, the ruler of the Ostrogoths or 
 East Goths (the Visigoths being West Goths), was 
 now king of Italy and came to the rescue of his 
 neighbors. The result was that a small portion of 
 their territory called Septimania, around the old Roman 
 city of Narbonne, kept its independence until it was 
 conquered some time later by the Moors of Spain. 
 
 So great a King must have a capital, and Clovis fixed 
 upon a village on an island in the river Seine as worthy 
 of the honor of becoming his royal residence. This 
 place was originally called Lutetia, which means mud- 
 
CLOVIS, KING OF THE FRANKS. '61 
 
 town, but the Romans had changed its name to Paris, 
 from a tribe called Parisii, which they found there 
 when they first conquered the country. Clovis did 
 much to improve this city of Paris, and possibly if it 
 had been let alone from his time we might still see 
 some remains of his work; but the enemies who have 
 so often burned it since then have left little trace of 
 its old glory, save the crumbling remains of the Em- 
 peror Julian's palace on the bank of the river Seine. 
 
 Thus far, perhaps, we may have thought of Clovis 
 only as an able and unscrupulous warrior, who showed 
 his ingenuity in devising reasons for adding other 
 people's dominions to his own; but the latter part of 
 his reign proved that ambition had overcome all the 
 nobler feelings of his nature, and he appears before us 
 only in the light of a cold-blooded murderer. The 
 Franks consisted of a collection of tribes, each under 
 its own chief, who were joined together for purposes 
 of common defence. Clovis determined that he would 
 be sole king of all these tribes, and took measures 
 accordingly. 
 
 Sending secretly a messenger to Cloderic, the son 
 of one of their kings, he said, " Your father is old, and 
 his wound makes him limp on one foot; if he should 
 die his kingdom would come to you, and we should be 
 friends." The base son had his father assassinated 
 while asleep in his tent, and then sent word to his 
 tempter, " My father is dead, and his gold and silver 
 are mine. Send and take what you please." Of course 
 Clovis sent again, but this time his envoys had other 
 instructions. Cloderic showed them the great chest 
 where his father had kept his treasures. " Plunge in 
 
32 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 your hand to the bottom," said the messenger of Clovis, 
 "so as not to leave any behind." The unsuspecting 
 king did so, and while thus helpless, a battle-axe split 
 his skull in two. 
 
 As soon as this success was reported to Clovis, he 
 went to Cologne, the capital of Cloderic, and said to 
 the Franks whom he caused to be assembled there, 
 "Listen to what has happened: the father of Cloderic 
 is dead, killed by his son's order, and some one, I don't 
 know who, killed his son while he was looking over 
 his father's treasures. I had nothing to do with it, for 
 I could not do anything so wicked as to shed the blood 
 of my relatives, but I can give you some good advice 
 if you like to take it. Put yourselves under my protec- 
 tion, and I will take care of you." Then they shouted 
 for joy, lifted him on a huge buckler or shield, and 
 hailed him as their King. 
 
 This was only the beginning. Taking advantage of 
 an affront offered him twenty years before by another 
 of these kings, he took him and his son prisoners, and 
 had their heads shaved, saying that they should become 
 monks. The son used some expression which Clovis 
 chose to consider as a threat, and had them both be- 
 headed, though they were utterly helpless and in his 
 power. A third king being defeated in battle and 
 taken prisoner, had his arms tied behind his back, and 
 in this condition was carried before Clovis, together 
 with his son. 
 
 "Why did you dishonor our family," inquired the 
 cruel victor, "by letting yourself be bound? You 
 might much better have died." And. so saying, he 
 split open his head with a battle-axe. Then turning 
 
CLOVIS, KING OF THE FRANKS. 33 
 
 to the son, he said, "If you had helped your father as 
 you ought to have done, he would never have been 
 overcome;" and crushed his skull in the same manner. 
 One more king remained, who was killed by the order 
 of Clovis, though not with his own hands, and thus he 
 found himself undisputed lord of all the Franks and 
 of the Roman Gauls, and receiving tribute from the 
 nominal sovereigns of Burgundy and Brittany. 
 
 He was truly a wonderful man, and had he been as 
 good as he was great, would have commanded our 
 liearty admiration. As it is, we must add his name to 
 the long list of those in whom a love of power has 
 dried up not only every feeling of virtue and honor, 
 but also of natural affection, for many of his victims 
 were his own near relatives. It is said that after all 
 these murders Clovis pathetically exclaimed : " Alas ! 
 I am left alone among strangers, with r.one of my kin- 
 dred to support me in the day of trouble !" The sus- 
 picion is expressed by a shrewd chronicler of the time, 
 that he hoped in this way to find out whether he had 
 any relatives left, so that he might kill the rest of them. 
 
 We might expect that a reign of crime and blood- 
 shed like this would have been closed by a violent 
 death, either on the battle-field or by assassination; 
 but Clovis died peaceably in his bed, after a reign of 
 thirty years, being only forty-five years old, and having 
 enjoyed his new dignity of King of all the Franks but 
 little more than a year. He was buried at Paris, in 
 the church of St. Peter and St. Paul, the name of 
 which was afterwards changed to St. Genevieve, in 
 honor of a peasant girl who was said to have saved the 
 city from an attack of the Huns. 
 3 
 
34 HISTORY OF FEANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE LATER MEROVIl^GIANS. 511-752. 
 
 HE earliest historians tell us that Meroveus or 
 Meerwig, the son of Clodion, was the grand- 
 fl father of Clovis, and there seems to be no 
 reason why we should not believe them. His descend- 
 ants are generally called Merovingians, according to the 
 Latin form of the word, though they are sometimes 
 spoken of under their German name of Meerwings. 
 
 This race or family seem to have been about as 
 wicked as any that ever disgraced the noble name of 
 King. Clovis was bad enough, but when you read of 
 what some of his descendants did, you begin to have 
 a feeling of respect for him by comparison. When he 
 died, his kingdom was divided among his four sons, a 
 very bad arrangement, causing continual strife and 
 discord, but which was the only one known in those 
 times. Each one had a different portion assigned him, 
 and was called by the name of his capital — King 
 of Metz, Orleans, Paris or Soissons. But they soon 
 began to fall by violence, and leave their places to 
 others. 
 
 When the first one died, queen Clotilda took his 
 three orphan sons under her care, hoping to see them 
 one day restored to their father's dominions. But two 
 of her remaining sons, having obtained possession of 
 the young princes, sent a messenger to her with a 
 sword and a pair of scissors, asking which sh.e would 
 choose for them, it being understood that shaving their 
 
THE LATER MEROVINGIANS. 35 
 
 heads was the same as disgracing thetn and making it 
 forever impossible for them to reign. She answered 
 passionately that she would rather see them dead than 
 deo-raded; and before she had time to chano;e her mind 
 or do anything for their rescue, one of their uncles killed 
 the eldest two by thrusting his dagger Into their sides as 
 they clung to his knees for mercy. The youngest was 
 forcibly carried away by some kind-hearted person and 
 kept in a place of security; but when he grew up, being 
 weary of the awful scenes of blood and cruelty which 
 were all that he knew of life, he went into a monastery, 
 cut off his long hair with his own hands, and thus saved 
 his uncles the trouble of killing him. 
 
 Clotaire, the youngest son of Clovis, was finally left 
 in possession of all his father's dominions, and at his 
 death the kino-dom was ao-aln divided amono; his four 
 sons, with the same results — a ferocious struggle for 
 the supreme power. The country of Australia, be- 
 longing to the East Franks, and of Neustria, belong- 
 ing to the West Franks, now began to have a separate 
 history. Between these two a great rivalry arose, and 
 they were often at war with one another. It is in con- 
 nection with this that a story is told so horrible that 
 one could almost wish that it had never been wrltter; 
 down ; but as it is related in all histories of France, 
 we ought to know something about it. 
 
 The king of the Visigoths had two charming and 
 accomplished daughters, one called Brunehaut or 
 Brynhild, married to Sigebert, King of Austrasia, and 
 the other Galswintha, married to his brother Chllperic, 
 King of Neustria. Chllperic cared more for a worth- 
 loss woman called Fredegonde than he did for his wife; 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 and in a few weeks the beautiful Galswintha was found 
 strangled in her bed, to please Fredegonde, as every- 
 body supposed. The King gave proof of the justice 
 of this suspicion by immediately marrying his wicked 
 favorite, and Brunehaut determined to be revenged on 
 the murderer of her sister. 
 
 A long war followed, in the course of which Chil- 
 peric was dethroned by his own people and Sigebert 
 elected king in his stead. In the midst of the rejoic- 
 ings which took place on this occasion, the vile Fred- 
 egonde saw her advantage, and arming two of her 
 pages with poisoned daggers, she sent them into his 
 presence on some friendly pretext, and they stabbed 
 him to the heart. She then caused her step-son to be 
 executed on a false accusation, and his young wife to be 
 burned alive; and having by these murders secured 
 the succession to her own son, she ended her days, 
 to all appearance, in perfect prosperity and happi- 
 ness. 
 
 Brunehaut was not so fortunate. After the death 
 of her son she carried on the government in the name 
 of her grandsons, and seems on the whole to have 
 managed it wisely and well, though her ambition had 
 led her to commit fearful crimes. She patronized men 
 of letters and art, who were very rare in those days, 
 and her name was long; connected with monuments of 
 energy and wisdom such as roads, bridges and public 
 buildings. After many changes of fortune she fell 
 into the hands of Fredegonde's son, Clotaire, who, after 
 having her led through his camp on a camel exposed 
 to the insults of his brutal soldiers, tied her by one 
 hand, one foot and her long hair to the tail of a wild 
 
THE LATER MEROVINGIANS. 37 
 
 horse, where she was soon dragged and trampled to 
 pieces. 
 
 Such was the fate of this queen of Austrasia, — a 
 woman eighty years old, the daughter, wife and mother 
 of kings, who had been ruling a kingdom for nearly 
 forty years ! 
 
 Clotaire, the son of Fredegonde, was now proclaimed 
 king of Austrasia as well as Neustria, and thus his 
 mother's desire was accomplished, though she did not 
 live to see it. His son Dagobert was the only king of 
 his race after Clovis who deserves to be remembered. 
 He seems to have been not quite so wicked as the rest, 
 and far superior to them in mental ability. His pri- 
 vate life was so bad that he is said to have had three '« 
 wives at once; he caused the murder of his young 
 nephew, and ordered nine thousand unfortunate beings 
 who had fled to him for refuge from cruelty at home, 
 and to whom he had offered an asylum, to be massa- 
 cred because he did not know how to feed them or 
 where to put them. Yet still we must give him his 
 due. He did something; toward establishino- law and 
 order in a time when such thino;s had been almost for- 
 gotten, and was so much better than most who had 
 gone before, and abler than any who came after him, 
 that by comparison with the rest we must rank him, 
 next to Clovis, as the greatest man of his own race. 
 
 After him comes a miserable succession of nobodies 
 — phantom kings, as some writers call them — without 
 power or influence, and possessing nothing of royalty 
 but its name. They are called in history the Fain4- 
 ants or do-nothings; but as every country must have 
 some sort of government, the place of authority was 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 taken by a very remarkable set of men called Mayors 
 of the Palace, a title at first meaning nothing more 
 than the Latin Major-domus^ or steward. They tried 
 their utmost to keep the young princes from ever grow- 
 ing to be men in anything but appearance, and encour- 
 aged them in habits of vice and indolence, which 
 destroyed their health so that few of them reached the 
 age of manhood. One of these Mayors, Pepin d'Her- 
 istal, held the real power during the reigns of four 
 shadow -kings, who were more fortunate than the " Six 
 Boy-kings" of England in having a wise and able 
 man to take the reins of government from their feeble 
 hands. 
 ^ His first business on coming' into office was to bring 
 under one government the two countries called Aus- 
 trasia and Neustria, both occupied by Franks, but 
 differing much from each other. The Austrasian, or 
 Eastern Franks, were almost wholly German in their 
 customs, feelings, and language. The Neustrian 
 Franks, on the contrary, were few in number com- 
 pared with the old Roman Gauls, among whom they 
 had settled, who clung to their ancient government 
 and language. Pepin was an Austrasian, and, after 
 much fighting, at last gained the battle of Testry, 
 which established his power over both countries, " The 
 Franks under Pepin," says a great modern writer, 
 " seem to have conquered Gaul a second time." From 
 this time his authority was undisputed. He had. under 
 the title of Duke of France and Mayor of the Palace, 
 the full control of both king and country, made war or 
 peace at his will, and carried on the government quite 
 independently of the long-haired idler who was amus- 
 
THE LATER MEROVINGIANS. 39 
 
 ing himself with games or dogs at his country-house. 
 
 He kept up appearances, however. Once a year he 
 would have the so-called king taken from his nest, 
 splendidly dressed, and placed in a magnificent car 
 drawn by oxen; and thus, with his long hair and beard 
 floating in the wind, the descendant of Clovis w^ould be 
 paraded through the streets of Paris and conducted to 
 a hall where an assembly of his own nobles and of 
 foreiorn ambassadors was waitinor to receive him. He 
 was then seated on a golden throne and made to 
 repeat a few sentences which he had learned by heart 
 or which were whispered to him by the attendants; 
 then he was carried back in the same stately manner 
 in which he had come, to his country villa, there to 
 spend another year in vice and idleness. 
 
 But the time was soon coming when he was to be 
 relieved from even this exertion. When Pepin 
 d'Heristal died, he left a son Charles, afterwards 
 called Martel, who was quite able to carry out his fath- 
 er's enterprises. He was just twenty-five years old, 
 in the full vigor of health and strength, and ready for 
 any adventure which might offer itself. He first 
 marched against the Neustrians, who had elected a 
 rival Mayor of the Palace, and set up a rival king; and 
 having defeated them at Soissons, the old battle-field 
 of Clovis, he was able to turn his attention to a more 
 dangerous enemy. 
 
 About a hundred years before this time, the Arabian 
 Mahomet had set up a new religion which had been 
 eagerly adopted by large numbers of people in Asia 
 and the northern part of Africa; and a little before 
 the death of Pepin, these Mahometans or Saracens, as 
 
40 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 they were then called, had conquered Spain and 
 established a powerful kingdom there. It would have 
 been a terrible thinp; if these enemies of true relio-ion 
 had gained a foothold in France, for they were famous 
 fighters, and were pretty sure to drive out either 
 Christianity or Christians from any country they took 
 possession of. So you will readily believe that when it 
 was known that a body of them had crossed the Pyr- 
 enees, and settled in Septimania, all Gaul shook in its 
 shoes. 
 
 Charles was equal to the occasion. He collected an 
 army and marched southward at once, meeting the 
 Saracens on a field near the city of Tours. Here 
 the two armies lay quiet for a week, looking at each 
 other. Why they waited we don't know, for they 
 were apparently all ready to fight ; but perhaps they 
 were dimly conscious that the fate of Europe hung on 
 the battle that was to come, and did not wish to risk 
 a failure though too much haste. We can imagine 
 the grim Franks, in their heavy armor, looking out 
 from under an iron helmet with disdain upon the tur- 
 baned heads of the Moslems, while the latter, whose 
 eyes delighted in bright colors, thought the battle-array 
 of the Franks very barbarous beside their own gor- 
 geous dress. The Saracens were the first to make the 
 attack. They rushed furiously against the Christians 
 with a rao^e which seemed as if it must bear down all 
 before it, but their keen swords could not pierce the 
 iron armor; while the heavy battle-ax of the Frank 
 crashed fearfully down upon the soft turbans of his 
 slighter foe, and gradually the invader gave way; 
 Abdel Rhaman, the Saracen commander, was killed, 
 
THE LATER MEROVINGIANS. 41 
 
 and when darkness had fallen on the long, long day, 
 both armies withdrew from the field. Charles had 
 well earned the surname of Martel, or The Hammer, 
 bestowed upon him by common consent in that age 
 and retained by all succeeding ones in grateful remem- 
 brance of his victory. He had indeed hammered 
 the Saracens; the Crescent bowed down before the 
 Cross, and Europe was saved. If there had been a 
 poet in Charles's ranks he might have sung as Sir 
 Walter Scott did about the battle of Fiodden — 
 
 *' Then did their loss his foemen know; 
 Their king, their lords, their mig-htiesfc low, 
 They melted from the field as snow, 
 When streams are swollen and south winds blow, 
 Dissolves in silent dew." 
 
 In the morning the Franks started out bravely to 
 begin again, but no answering host advanced to give 
 them battle. The white tents of the Moslems were 
 spread out before them — empty. In the silence of 
 night the enemy had stolen away and were retreating 
 at full speed towards Narbonne. This strongly forti- 
 fied town resisted all the efforts of Charles to take it, 
 and remained in the hands of the Saracens until it 
 was taken from them long afterwards by his son. 
 
 That son, called Pepin the Short, was the first of his 
 family to assume in i;»ame what they had long possess- 
 ed in fact, the style and title of king. At Charles 
 Martel's death the throne had been vacant for some 
 years, but he had not thought it worth while to 
 look up another puppet to place upon it. Pepin, how- 
 ever (or Pippin, as the Germans called him), was more 
 prudent. He did not think the time had come when 
 
42 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 it would be safe to make such an important change as 
 to call himself king, so he hunted up another forlorn 
 Merovino^ian from the convent where he had been shut 
 up, let his hair grow, and called him King Ohilderic 
 III. 
 
 Pepin was acute enough to know that unless he 
 could get the church on his side he would have a great 
 deal of trouble in keeping his kingdom, so he sent am- 
 bassadors to Rome to ask the Pope which ought to be 
 kino- — the one who had the name, or the one who has 
 the power and exercised the duties of a king. Pope 
 Zacharias had already had a private conference with 
 Pepin's friend, St. Boniface, and had made up his mind 
 what to say. So he answered,' "The one who has the 
 power ;" and Pepin lost no time in making use of the 
 permission. St. Boniface, who was a really devout 
 and good man, and a missionary among the Germans, 
 anointed him with holy oil from the vial used at the 
 coronation of Olovis ; Childeric was shaven again and 
 sent back to his cloister, and the first of the Carloving- 
 ian Kings was seated firmly on the throne of France. 
 
 The name of this family comes from Carolus, the 
 Latin for Charles, and might therefore more properly 
 be spelt Carolingian, but we take it as we find it. 
 The Germans called them Karlings, or sons of Karl, 
 and this form is occasionally used by English writers 
 also. 
 
PEPIN AND CHARLEMAGNE. 43 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PEPI2T AND CHARLEMAGNE. 752-814. 
 
 S was to be expected, the son of the great 
 Charles, and the father of Charles the Great 
 (for such was Pepin), did not let the grass 
 grow under his heels as long as there was anything to 
 be done. He attacked the Saracens in the south and 
 the Bretons in the west, driving out the one, and 
 reducinor the other to obedience, and more than once 
 went into Italy to help the Pope against the Lombards 
 or Long-beards, who threatened to destroy the city of 
 Rome. Having conquered them he made the pontiff 
 a present of their country, which was nearly the same 
 as the modern Lombardy. This is called "Pepin's 
 Donation," and was the foundation of the long friend- 
 ship which existed between the popes and the kings 
 of France. 
 
 A story is told of Pepin which shows the general 
 opinion of his strength and courage. Soon after he 
 was made king, he was looking on with his nobles at 
 a fight between a lion and a bull, for in those days 
 such animals were kept on purpose to have them fight 
 together for the amusement of human — not humane 
 — beings. The bull was getting the worst of it, when 
 the king called out: "Who dares to separate them?" 
 No one offering to do this, he jumped into the arena 
 and cut off the heads of both with his sword. "Now," 
 said he, "am I not worthy to be called your king?" 
 Nearly his whole reign was filled up with warlike 
 
44 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 . '^^■, — — — 
 
 enterprises, and when he died he left his kingdom to 
 his two sons, Charles and Oarloman, but fortunately 
 for the nation this divided rule did not last long. 
 Carloman died within a few years, leaving the 
 undisputed throne to his brother Charles, whom we 
 shall henceforth speak of under his best known name 
 of Charlemagne, which means Charles the Grreat. It 
 shows how much more civilized the world was getting 
 in those days, that nobody thought it necessary to 
 plunge a knife into the heart of Carloman's two sons, 
 or to shave their heads and make monks of them. 
 They went off quietly with their mother to Lombardy, 
 where they were kindly welcomed by its king, and 
 allowed to live at his court. ■ 
 
 It was indeed a great man who now sat upon the 
 throne of France. Whether we think of him as the 
 conqueror of mighty nations, as the wise ruler of his 
 own, or as the friend and patron of learning at a time 
 when almost all knowledge of books was confined to 
 the monks, we must still admire his wonderful energy, 
 his splendid military genius, and the far-sighted wis- 
 dom which enabled him to see that the real greatness 
 of a country consisted not in its conquests, but in the 
 instruction and elevation of its people. 
 
 As it would take too longto'speak of all the warlike 
 expeditions of Charlemagne, of which there were said 
 to be fifty-three, I can only tell you in general that he 
 attacked his neighbors on every side, an(^ was in the 
 Jong run successful everywhere, except against the 
 Moors, then inhabitants of Spain. He advanced 
 with a grand flourish into their country, and suc- 
 ceeded in bringing the northern part to submis- 
 
PEPIN AND CHARLEMAGNE: ^ 45 
 
 sion, but finally judged it best to return to his 
 own land. To do this he had to cross the moun- 
 tainous district in which the Pyrenees are situ- 
 ated, and which was occupied by people called 
 Basques, who were friendly to the Saracens and hated 
 the Franks. The main body of his army advanced 
 safely through the mountain passes, but as the rear- 
 guard were traversing that of Roncesvalles, they 
 suddenly found a great storm of rocks, stones, trunks 
 of trees and other heavy things coming down on their 
 heads; many of them were crushed to death, or fell 
 down the precipice and were dashed in pieces on the 
 rocks below, while the Basques, taking advantage of 
 their confusion, rushed upon them a:nd killed every 
 one that was left. 
 
 Many romantic stories are told about this battle, as 
 it is called, although the Franks had little chance to 
 strike back ; and a knight named Roland is especially 
 mentioned as being the bravest of the brave. In these 
 legends a friend of his, called Oliver, is represented 
 as being associated with him in all sorts of impossible 
 adventures, and both performed such w^onders of valor 
 that nobody could decide which deserved the most 
 praise ; but though these are very pleasant to read 
 about, we cannot think of them as facts. 
 
 In all other directions Charlemagne was successful. 
 He conquered many nations in Germany, and, among 
 others, the Saxons, with whom he had a war that lasted 
 more than thirty years; but though often driven back, 
 he never gave up his purpose, and they finally submit- 
 ted. Their most famous chief was Witikind, who was 
 converted to Christi.anity during this war, and from 
 
46 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 t^. - 
 
 being one of the fiercest and most bloody-minded of 
 heathens, became such a good man that some people 
 called him a saint. Charlemagne professed to carry 
 on this war principally for the sake of converting the 
 Saxons, and no doubt his soldiers did good service in 
 protecting the faithful missionaries who were engaged 
 in this work; but when we read that he had four thou- 
 sand helpless prisoners massacred at once, in revenge 
 for a victory they had -obtained over the Franks, it 
 does not seem as if his Christianity had done much for 
 his own character. 
 
 For thirty-two years after the beginning of his reign, 
 Charlemagne called himself only king of the Franks and 
 Lombards, but in the year 800 he received a still 
 grander title. He went in great state to visit Pope 
 Leo IIL at Rome, and as he was kneeling on Christ- 
 mas Day before the high altar in the Church of St. 
 Peter, the Pope placed an imperial crown upon his 
 head, and all the vast multitude of people present 
 shouted, " Lon^ life and victory to Charles Augustus, 
 crowned by God, the great and pacific emperor of the 
 Romans." Charlemagne professed that this was an 
 utter surprise to him — that he was unvforthy of it, and 
 so forth ; and one writer goes so far as to say that if 
 he had known what the Pope was going to do he would 
 not have gone to the church that day; but this is a little 
 too absurd to be believed. No doubt he knew all 
 about it, and liked it too; and he immediately set up a 
 court as much like the one at Constantinople as he 
 could, and even had some thoughts of marrying the 
 old Empress Irene, and so of adding the Empire of the 
 East to that of the West; but just at this time Irene, 
 
PEPIN AND CHARLEMAGNE. 47 
 
 who had murdered her own son in order to become 
 Empress, was in her turn deposed, and Charlemagne's 
 ambition in that direction bore no fruits. 
 
 But everywhere else he was supreme. One by one 
 the nations of Germany had submitted to him, and 
 France was as firmly bound together as it is to-day. 
 Outside of his own dominions, all foreign princes were 
 proud to have his friendship, and vied w4th each other 
 in the splendor of their embassies and the magnifi- 
 cence of their gifts. The caliph Haroun Al Raschid, 
 the hero of the Arabian Nights, sent him some wonder- 
 ful presents; among others, a clock that struck the 
 hours, an ape and an elephant — all new to the eyes of 
 Western Europe. 
 
 The youno- Eo-bert of Eno-land came to the court of 
 the great monarch to be instructed in the arts of refine- 
 ment to which as yet his own country was a stranger; 
 and who knows but that he may have picked up, 
 either from example or in conversation, some ideas 
 which were of use to him in brinj^ino; into one the 
 seven kingdoms of his little island? 
 
 We should do great injustice to Charlemagne if we 
 allowed the recollection of his military glory to put 
 out of sight the two facts which do him even more 
 honor — his success as a legislator, and his devotion 
 to learning, so rare in those ignorant times. We 
 should all of us have enjoyed looking on while what 
 was called " The School of the Palace," was holding 
 one of its morning- sessions. We should see the erreat 
 emperor seated on a highly ornamented chair which 
 served as his throne, with his sons and daughters near 
 him, and the nobles, such as were allowed the privi- 
 
48 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 lege, a little lower down in the room; there standing 
 among them we should see the good monk Alcuin, 
 whom Charlemagne had caused to come from Eno-land 
 expressly for this purpose, lecturing, as we should call it 
 now, on the various subjects which were then consid- 
 ered interesting; such as grammar, rhetoric, astronomy 
 and theology. 
 
 Besides these lectures there must have been times 
 when the young people were taught reading and writ- 
 ing, both of which accomplishments were extremely 
 rare in those days. It is said that the Emperor tried 
 hard to learn to write, but never made very good work 
 of it, though he carried tablets in his bosom on which to 
 practice at odd times. His fingers were too much 
 used to holding the sword to be very skillful with the 
 pen. Reading, too, was much more difficult before 
 the art of printing was invented, and as all books 
 were copied by hand with a pen, they were scarce and 
 expensive. 
 
 Charlemagne built himself a beautiful palace at Aix 
 la Chapelle, in Germany, which was named after Aix 
 in Provence, because of the mineral springs found 
 there. He took great delight in these, and would 
 have sometimes as many as a hundred persons bathing 
 with him at one time. The name La Chapelle was 
 added to distins-uish this city from the southern Aix, 
 and came from a fine cathedral which he built there. 
 The palace was adorned with all sorts of splendid 
 things, taken from cities which Charlemagne had con- 
 quered, just as Napoleon afterwards enriched Paris 
 with the spoils of Rome; but all are gone now. You 
 can still see the cathedral, however, and in it is pre- 
 
PEPIN AND CHARLEMAGNE. 49 
 
 served the chair which the Emperor sat in, both living 
 and dead, for when he died, 
 
 " No useless coffin enclosed his breast." 
 
 His corpse was dressed in imperial robes, with a 
 crown on his head, a golden sword by his side, and a 
 golden copy of the gospels in his hand; and thus, slt- 
 tmg on his throne, he was placed in the tomb. Nearly 
 two hundred years afterward, the Emperor Otho III. 
 took it into his head to remove the royal remains, 
 which were found in a good state of preservation. It 
 seems a pity that he could not have let the dead man 
 rest quietly in his tomb, after having been so con- 
 stantly busy in his life time. 
 
 Charlemagne died in the year 814, exactly one hun- 
 dred years after the death of his great grandfather, 
 Pepin d'Heristal, having reigned fourteen years as 
 emperor, and not far from fifty in all. He was seventy 
 years old. 
 
 In his love of learning, he reminds us of Alfred 
 the Great, of England, but having been so much a 
 man of war in the early part of his life he never be- 
 came as well informed as Alfred, who was always a 
 student. During the time when he was comparatively 
 peaceful — that is, after he became emperor — he tried 
 to get all the knowledge he could by having people 
 read aloud to him at his meals, so as never to lose a 
 moment of time; but at that age it was slow work. In 
 his intense energy and activity, and power of applica- 
 tion to business, he may be compared to the first Na- 
 poleon. His moral character fell far below our stand- 
 ard of right at the present day, and his cruelty to the 
 Saxons, under the pretext of religious zeal, is a dark 
 4 
 
50 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 stain on his name; but such crimes were looked upon 
 by even the good men of his own day with great in- 
 dulgence, and we must not judge him from our own 
 standpoint. 
 
 In person Charlemagne was tall and stout, with a 
 round head, a long nose, large, keen eyes, and a thick 
 nock. This, which is told us by Eginhard, who was 
 educated in the palace and has left a valuable account 
 of what went on in his time, is all we know about it; 
 but we imagine a noble and commanding countenance, 
 and, according to the custom of the time, a full, flow- 
 ing beard. It is certain that he impressed with awe 
 all that came near him. He remained to the end of 
 his life a German in feeling* and habits, and though 
 France was the main seat of his empire, he seems to 
 approach more nearly to the emperor of Germany than 
 to the kinofs of his own country. 
 
 Charlemagne must have had some fun about him, 
 too. He despised foppery in dress, and once when he 
 saw a party of young nobles overdressed he took them 
 on a long ride with him through rain and mud, until 
 their fine clothes were drenched and spoiled. Then 
 he pretended not to notice it, and made them dine 
 with him in the same condition. After that they prob- 
 ably kept a sharp look-out, and saved their finery to 
 appear in when he was away. 
 
 The emperor himself took care to set an example of 
 the simplicity he liked to see in the young people 
 around him. He wore a linen imdergarment, wnwen 
 by his own daughters, and a woolen tunic and breeches, 
 over which, wh^n out of doors, he threw a long blue 
 cloak. Thick shoes, leggings 'made of bright-colored 
 
THE LATER CABLOVINGIANS. 51 
 
 bands crossed over one another, and a broad leather 
 belt, to which his good sword Joyeuse always hung, 
 completed his costume. The ladies of the court were 
 allowed more liberty than the men. They wore silken 
 tunics with long, flowing sleeves, and had their gar- 
 ments trimmed with costly furs. 
 
 The great mass of the people was then, as for many 
 hundred years afterward, sunk in ignorance and ground 
 down by poverty. Famine and wretchedness were so 
 constantly their companions that it did not even occur 
 to them to complain, and there was no one to come to 
 their help. They toiled hopelessly from the cradle to 
 the grave, happy if Fate had placed them under a mas- 
 ter who left them a whole skin, and required nothing 
 more from them than the unremitting service of a 
 lifetime. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 THE LATER CARLOVINGIANS. 814-987. 
 
 HARLEMAGNE had portioned out his em- 
 pire among his three sons, giving to each what 
 he. considered a just share; but to his great 
 grief two of them died before him, leaving only Louis 
 to succeed to the vast inheritance. This prince, whom 
 French historians call " Le Debonnaire," or the Good 
 Natured, and Latin ones " The Pious," had already had 
 some experience in governing, or trying to govern ; for 
 when he was only three years old, his father made him 
 
52 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 king of Aquitaine, a country in the south of France, 
 and the baby-monarch, who was carried in his cradle 
 to his new dominions, was on entering them dressed in 
 a little suit of armor, and led throuofh the streets on 
 horseback, so that the people might pay him homage. 
 When he grew up he did not show anything of his 
 father's ambitious disposition, being too truly pious to 
 want to make himself great at any one else's expense; 
 and the first years of his reign exhibit a love of simple 
 justice which was not often seen in that rude and self- 
 ish ao;e. 
 
 After the death of his first wife, Louis was persuaded 
 to marry a beautiful but unprincipled woman called 
 Judith, and out of this marriage sprang all his other 
 misfortunes. He had divided (he empire, as was usu- 
 ally done, among his three sons by his first wife; and 
 all recognized this division as just and proper. But 
 Judith thought that her son, afterwards known as 
 Charles the Bald, ought' also to have a share; and to 
 please her, Louis made a kingdom for him out of some 
 of the countries already given to his older brothers. 
 
 The consequences of this unwise action were such 
 as might have been expected in those stormy times. 
 The defrauded sons rebelled (though they did not yet 
 possess the kingdoms, and could not have them till 
 after their father was dead); and from that !j;ime to the 
 end of his life, the reign of Louis is one scene of dis- 
 cord, humiliation and misery. At one time we find the 
 sons getting the better of their father, and imposing 
 on him everj?- mortification that they could inflict in 
 the way of imprisonment and public disgrace; at an- 
 other, there is a reaction against this unnatural war- 
 
THE LATER CARLOVINGIANS. 53 
 
 fare, and Louis is restored to his throne by outside 
 help. Once everything was prepared for a battle the 
 next day; when, on rising in the morning, Louis found 
 that all his principal nobles, with the soldiers under 
 their command, had silently gone over to the enemy 
 during the night. The place where this shameful 
 treachery took place was from that time called " The 
 Field of Lying." 
 
 Louis died of a broken heart, and the next year 
 his sons fought a bloody battle one against another 
 at Fontenay, where it is said that eighty thousand 
 men perished. Soon after this a treaty was made at 
 Yerdun, by which the empire was parceled out among 
 the brothers, Judith's son, Charles the Bald, being 
 made king of France. By the death of his brothers 
 he became also for a short time EmjDeror of Germany, 
 but when he died, the vast empire which it had cost 
 Charlemagne nearly his whole life to establish, was 
 broken up into its natural divisions of France, Ger- 
 many and Italy. 
 
 While these events were taking place, other influ- 
 ences were at work destined in the end to be of great 
 importance to France. Far to the north, in those 
 countries called by the general name of Scandinavia, 
 lived a fierce race of pirates, who had begun even before 
 the death of Charlemagne to make their appearance 
 on his coasts. He haddefendedhimself against them; 
 but under the reigns of his weak son and quarrelsome 
 grandsons, these dreaded sea-kings, as they called 
 themselves, sailed boldly up the Seine, carried their 
 boats across from one river to another, and laid waste 
 the country wherever they went. Li the time of Charles 
 
54 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the Bald they attacked Paris and plundered its rich 
 churches and abbeys. The king, instead of fighting 
 them, gave them money to go away, which of course 
 only encouraged them to come again the next year; 
 and France grew to dread their approach like that. of 
 a pestilence. 
 
 You may form some idea of the recreations of their 
 playful moments, from the fact that one more humane 
 than the rest forbade his companions to pitch children 
 at each other and catch them on the points of their 
 pikes, as had been their custom. From this he was 
 called by the endearing name of "The Saviour of 
 Children." 
 
 Charles the Bald left one son, Louis IL, called Le 
 Begue, or The Stammerer. After him came in quick 
 succession his three sons, Louis III., Carloman, and 
 Charles the Simple. The latter, weak and incapable, 
 was entirely under the control of one of his great 
 nobles, Robert, Count of Paris. By his advice, Charles 
 offered to negotiate with the leader of the Northmen, 
 who was called Rolf or Rollo, and v/ho, though a pagan, 
 had the Christian virtue of keeping his word. A 
 treaty was made between them by which it was 
 agreed that Rollo should marry Charles's daughter, 
 Gisela, and receive a part of Neustria as a permanent 
 possession. In return he consented to become a 
 Christian and to refrain from committing any depreda- 
 tions on the soil of France outside of the territory 
 granted to him, which was named Normandy, from 
 the Northmen who settled there. This Rollo was 
 great-great-grandfather of William the Norman, con- 
 queror of England. 
 
THE LATER CARLO FINGIANS. 55 
 
 Rollo did as he had promised. He not only let alone 
 what did not belong to him, but proved a just and 
 wise ruler in his own country. When he was about 
 to take the oath of alleo-iance to Charles which was in- 
 eluded in the conditions of the treaty, he was in- 
 formed that it was absolutely necessary that he should 
 comply with the usual form by kissing the foot of his 
 sovereign. As no persuasion could induce him to do 
 this, he was finally allowed to perform the ceremony 
 by proxy, that is, to send some one in his place. But 
 the rude soldier who was deputed for this purpose was 
 equally unwilling to go through this form of submis-^^ 
 sion, and instead of kneeling down to touch the king's- 
 foot with his lips, he seized it in his hand and lifted 
 it to his mouth, overturning jDoor Charles, throne and 
 all, amid the loud laughter of the coarse Normans 
 and the suppressed anger of the Frenchmen. The 
 king dared not resent the insult, but passed it off 
 as a joke, glad to get into his chair again with 
 whole bones. 
 
 After the death of Charles the Simple, who is sup- 
 posed to have been murdered in the castle of Peronne 
 by one of his own nobles, another lord called Hugh 
 the Great, (son of the count of Paris), might have 
 made himself king without opposition from any one, 
 if he had so chosen; but he was too prudent or too 
 patriotic to do this, and sent for Charles's son, Louis 
 d'Outremer, or " Louis from beyond the Sea," whom 
 he placed on the throne. The mother of Louis was 
 a sister of Athelstan, king of England, and therefore 
 a granddaughter of Alfred the Great. The remaining 
 reigns of the Carlovingian kings are nothing but a 
 
56 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 series of struggles between them and the nobles for 
 power. Louis IV. was a prince of some ability, but 
 he could not stem the tide which had now grown too 
 strong for him. His son Lothaire and his grandson 
 Louis V. had short reisrns which resulted in nothing, 
 the latter receiving: the title of Le Faineant or Do- 
 Nothino-, not so much as a term of reproach as because 
 his short reign of one year gave him no chance to 
 accomplish anything. Although he left no children, 
 an heir to the crown existed in the person of the Duke 
 of Lorraine, brother of King Lothaire, but his claim 
 was set aside by the unanimous voice of the nobles, 
 who chose one of their own number, Hugh Oapet, son 
 of Hugh the Great, to sit upon the throne of Char- 
 lemaofne. 
 
 Thus ended the line of Oarlovingian Kings, who 
 becran so gloriously and finished so sadly. Who could 
 have guessed, when the great Emperor was placed in 
 his stately tomb, that in less than two hundred years 
 his place would be filled by a stranger ? And yet it 
 was better for France that it should be so. The well- 
 meaning but helpless monarchs who pass in a sad pro- 
 cession before us could do nothing to protect their 
 subjects from each other,* and the nobles exercised an 
 independent authority over those under them which 
 made the name of king almost a mockery. To under- 
 stand how this state of things came about, requires 
 some knowledge of an institution called the Feudal 
 System, which I will try to explain to you. 
 
 In the early times, when a barbarian chief took pos- 
 session of a country and turned out its inhabitants, it 
 was the custom for him to, divide the land among the 
 
THE LATER CARLOVJNGIANS. 57 
 
 principal men who had helped him to conquer it, on 
 condition that they should be always ready to go with 
 him to war when he called upon them, and to help in 
 some other ways, according to the agreement they 
 made with him. This was called owino- alle2:iance to 
 him, and he was called the liege-lord, while the one 
 who received the land was called his vassal, and the 
 property itself a fief. 
 
 After a time, when it became inconvenient to take 
 care of so much land, the person who had received it 
 from the chief, or king, divided it into smaller parts, 
 and gave it to other people called freeholders, on the 
 same terms. But as these again might be called upon 
 at any time to go with their liege-lord to battle, they 
 had under them a still lower class called serfs, who 
 tilled the ground, and were not required to go to war 
 unless some great or unusual event made it necessary. 
 Thus there were four very distinct classes in the Feu- 
 dal System: first, the king; then the great nobles who 
 received their land directly from him, and the lesser 
 ones to whom they granted it in turn; next the lower 
 vassals, who were generally plain farmers; and lastly, 
 the serfs. It was natural that in the course of time 
 many of the great vassals, who owned perhaps more 
 land than the king himself, should become impatient of 
 being bound to &erve him, and should try to make 
 themselves independent, and this gave the kings of 
 France much trouble, until, as happened in the end, 
 one fief after another fell into their hands, and they 
 found themselves sole lords over the whole country. 
 
 As the vassals, or tenants, paid no rent for their 
 lands, it was necessary to have some form which should 
 
58 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 show that these lands really belonged to the superior or 
 feudal lord. This was done by what was called homage, 
 or an acknowledgment, at certain times, of the condi- 
 tion of a vassal. We have seen how this ceremony 
 was performed in the case of poor Simple Charles, who 
 so well deserved his name. In later times the form 
 was different. Instead of kissing his liege-lord's foot, 
 the vassal placed his folded hands within those of his 
 superior, the latter thus taking possession, by a symbol 
 or sign, of all that the other was enjoying the use of. 
 
 GHAPTEB VII. 
 
 THE FIEST CAPETIANS. 9(|7 1108. 
 
 T is well to understand at first setting out, 
 that the only part of France entirely subject 
 to Hugh Capet was a small district around 
 Paris. The rest of the kingdom really belonged to 
 various counts and dukes, those of Normandy, Brit- 
 tany, Burgundy, and so on, who owed allegiance to 
 the Kino" of France, but ruled their own dominions 
 without interference from him, acknowledging his 
 lordship over them only by doing homage for the 
 countries they held by his permission. 
 
 The feeling entertained towards Hugh by other, 
 nobles who imagined that they had as good a right to 
 the throne as he had, is shown by the answer made to 
 him by an insolent noble who had taken possession of 
 the country around Tours without his consent. " Who 
 
THE FIRST CAPETIANS. 59 
 
 made you count?" he inquired. "Who made you 
 king?" retorted the other, and the king was too 
 cautious to press the matter further. 
 
 Hugh reigned only nine years, but long enough to 
 acquire and well enough to preserve the respect and 
 admiration of all his vassals. He was especially de- 
 voted to the church, giving up to it several rich abbeys 
 bolonging to his own family, and thus making friends 
 of the clergy, who bestowed on him the title of " De- 
 fender of the Church." He very wisely had his son 
 Robert joined with him as king during his own life-time, 
 and acknowledged by the nobles, so that there could 
 be no doubt about the succession. Such was the first 
 of the Capetian Kings, some of whose descendants are 
 living at this moment, and perhaps still hope to occupy 
 the throne of France. 
 
 Robert the Pious, as he was called, was a gentle 
 and peace-loving man, and yet destined, as such men 
 are apt to be if they become kings, to a stormy reign. 
 He had married his cousin Bertha, to whom he was 
 most tenderly attached; but though the relationship 
 between them was very distant, the pope ordered them 
 to separate, because such marriages are forbidden in 
 the Romish Church. Robert protested in vain against 
 this act of injustice, and it was not until after the pope 
 had made both himself and Bertha very wretched that 
 he consented to a separation. He then married a friv- 
 olous and light-minded woman called Constance, who 
 hated his pious ways, and would have liked to see him 
 as vain and selfish as she was. Poor Kino;- Robert was 
 so much in dread of her scoldings that he tried to con- 
 ceal his good deeds from her as if they had been crimes. 
 
60 mSTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 She was always spying about to see if she missed any- 
 thing from his dress, for if he had no money, he would 
 give away the very clothes he had on. Once when he 
 came home from mass, he found that his wife had 
 trimmed his lance with silver ornaments. Instead of 
 being gratified by this, he instantly began to think 
 whether there was not some one to whom that silver 
 might be useful. Just then a beggar came along and 
 the king sent for a tool to take off the ornaments, 
 which he gave to the beggar, telling him to take good 
 care that the queen knew nothing of it. When Con- 
 stance came in she exclaimed loudly at seeing the lance 
 stripped of its silver, but the king declared that he did 
 not know how it happened. With all his good quali- 
 ties, it seems that he hadn't the courage to tell the 
 truth. 
 
 At another time, when he was at supper with her^ 
 and was feeding a poor man under the table (for he 
 insisted on having his doors open to all who chose to 
 ask a meal), the beggar cut off a gold tag weighing six 
 ounces that hung at the king's knee, and made off with 
 it. When they rose from the table Constance instantly 
 missed it, and went into one of her furies. The king- 
 answered with great coolness that it was doubtless 
 more needful to the one that took it than it was to him- 
 self. A robber was once cutting off the heavy gold 
 fringe from his mantle as he knelt in church, but though 
 Robert knew perfectly well what the man was about, 
 he said nothing until he had taken half of it; then he 
 remarked mildly, " That will do, my friend; now go, 
 and leave the rest for some one else." 
 
 You may imagine that such a man was somewhat of 
 
THE FIRST CAPETIANS. 61 
 
 a trial to a "oolish woman whose mind was set on dress 
 and fashion, but her ways were still more trying to 
 him. A crowd of young nobles had followed her 
 from Toulouse, and scandalized the grave people of 
 the northern court, one of whom thus discourses 
 about them: " Their manners and dress were dis- 
 orderly. . . . In the middle part of their heads 
 they had no hair, and their beards were cut in the 
 shape of clowns'. Their leggings and buskins were 
 shamefully fashioned. . . . But oh, grief ! their 
 abominable examples were immediately copied by the 
 whole race of Frenchmen!" 
 
 Robert was passionately fond of music,sang well, 
 and wrote many hymns. The queen, thinking that 
 she might turn his musical and poetical talent to some 
 account, asked him to compose a song in her honor. 
 So he sang a Latin hymn beginning, " Oh, Constantia 
 Martyrum" — "Oh, constancy of the martyrs!" and as 
 she heard her own name in it she was quite satisfied, 
 and did not know that he was making fun of her. 
 
 In the early part of King Robert's reign a remark- 
 able state of feeling prevailed all over the Christian 
 world. From a passage in the Book of Revelation 
 people had drawn the conclusion that the world would 
 come to an end a thousand years after Christ; and as 
 the year 1000 drew near, their minds grew more and 
 more ao'itated. It was not strano-e that a feelino* of 
 terror should prevail at the thought of an approach- 
 ing judgment, for never since the time of Christ had 
 there been such frightful wickedness in the earth. 
 Even the Church, which ouo-ht to have been the o-uar- 
 dian of all that was good, and to have shone out like 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 a light in the darkness, had become so corrupt that the 
 behavior of the monks and clergy was a dishonor to 
 religion; and though there were noble exceptions, it 
 was known to all how far many t)f them had fallen 
 below the true standard. But now all were aroused; 
 men gave up their business and prostrated themselves 
 in the churches; property of all kinds, including 
 money, jewels, houses and lands, was hastily given to 
 the cathedrals and monasteries, in the hope that such 
 sacrifices might purchase favor at the great day, and 
 the tremblins: sinners waited with awe for the end 
 to come. 
 
 When the last day of the thousand years had drawn 
 to its close and a new century dawned upon them, the 
 people began to take heart again. For a while the 
 excitement was still kept up, under the idea that there 
 might be some mistake in the reckoning ; but gradually 
 the terrified spirits of men grew calmer, and they 
 returned slowly to their old habits. The terror they 
 had felt, however, was not without its good efifect. For 
 a long time there was less violence ; many monasteries 
 and churches were built, and the clergy reformed, to 
 some extent, their evil lives. 
 
 As was usual in times of great religious excitement, 
 the enthusiasm of piety sought re]ief in the most 
 dreadful persecutions, in which King Robert joined, 
 no doubt believing that he was doing his duty. The 
 unhappy Jews, always the first mark for such attacks, 
 were hunted out from their hiding places, imprisoned, 
 tortured, robbed, and put to the most cruel deaths, all 
 under the mask of love to God. When all who could 
 not escape had suffered thus, the rage of persecution 
 
THE FIRST CAPETIANS. 63 
 
 took a new turn, and seized upon some heretics at 
 Orleans, one of whom had been confesGor to Queen 
 Constance. As he was led to the stake^ the queen 
 stood in the place where he was to pass, and struck 
 him so furiously in the face with her iron -pointed 
 staff that one of his eyes was dashed from its socket. 
 A pleasant woman, this, to pass one's life with ! 
 
 In the last year of King Robert's reign, and for two 
 years afterwards, a famine prevailed in France, the 
 details of which equal in horror anything that we read 
 of. The harvests failed for three years in succession, 
 and the destitution of the poorer classes reached such 
 a pass that human flesh became a well-known article 
 of food. The graveyards were robbed, corpses were 
 ravenously devoured, and an inn-keeper was burnt 
 alive for having killed nearly fifty of his guests and 
 used their bodies for food. It was said that people 
 set traps in the woods to catch little children, so that 
 their flesh might be eaten. It was not safe to travel 
 in the highways, lest some wretch, stronger than 
 yourself, might fall upon and kill you. As always 
 happens in times of famine, pestilence was added to 
 its torments. When food is deficient or poor in quality 
 it causes sickness, and these poor unfortunates would 
 sometimes mix powdered chalk with the little flour 
 they had to make it go further; but there was still one 
 more horror to be added to the list. There was a 
 famine among the wild beasts, too, and the wolves 
 grew so fierce and bold that they would roam 
 through the country, attracted by the unburied 
 corpses, and when these had been devoured, they 
 began to attack human beings, who, weakened by 
 
64 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 hunger, were not always able to defend themselves. 
 
 In the fourth year there came a change. The crop, 
 which the people had managed to sow in spite of the 
 scarcity of grain, was abundant, and prosperity 
 returned to the country. While men's hearts were 
 still in the softened state brought about by gratitude 
 for deliverance from danger, a very singular law, called 
 the "Peace of God," was passed by the church, with 
 consent of the king. This forbade the shedding of 
 blood, whether in revenge or open warfare; it exhorted 
 all men to live according to the religion of Christ, to 
 use no violence one towards another, and to be just 
 and merciful to all. 
 
 This law was hailed with delight by all classes, but 
 it could not last long. Oppression and outrage be- 
 came common again, and murders went on as before. 
 Then another experiment was tried, called the "Truce 
 of God," which worked better. From Wednesday even- 
 ing in each week until Monday morning of the next, 
 and all through Lent and Advent, men were to give 
 up stabbing and mangling one another; and from 
 being restricted in this way, they grew somewhat out 
 of the habit of violence, and the condition of society 
 was changed for the better. These things may give 
 you an idea of the simplicity of both rulers and peo- 
 ple in the eleventh century. 
 
 Two very long reigns followed that of King Robert 
 the Pious, occupying nearly eighty years between 
 them, — that of his son, Henry the First and his grand- 
 son, Philip the First. Henry seems not to have been 
 much distinguished in any way ; Philip was a man of 
 whom we know little but what is bad. It was in his 
 
THE FIRST CAPETIANS. 65 
 
 reio-ii that the first of those wonderful Crusades was 
 undertaken, the object of which was to recover Jeru- 
 salem from the Turks. Peter the Hermit, the monk 
 whose zeal enlisted immense armies under the standard 
 of the Cross, was a native of France, and by far the 
 larger number of the brave chiefs who led their sol- 
 diers to Palestine were Frenchmen. As it was the 
 custom in those days for kings to march at the head of 
 their armies, this mighty host would naturally have 
 looked to Philip as their leader ; but besides his being 
 very lazy and self-indulgent, he was known to live in 
 so scandalous a manner that he would not have dared 
 to offer himself for such a position. So the Cru- 
 saders went without him ; and when in 1099, the Holy 
 City was taken by the triumphant Christians, Philip 
 shared in none of the glory of the achievement. 
 
 Towards the end of his long reign of nearly fifty 
 years, he professed to feel sorry for his misdeeds, 
 though he did not reform his life; and by way of 
 atonement he ordered that his body should be buried 
 in an obscure country church, because he was not 
 worthy to be buried with the kings of his race in the 
 Cathedral of St. Denis. It would have been better if 
 his repentance had taken the form of forsaking his sins, 
 and atoning for wrongs by undoing them. 
 
 There have been few periods in the history of 
 France which present so dreary a picture to our view 
 as does this reign of the first Philip. To be a baron or 
 " noble " was only another name for enjoying the 
 privilege of living at other people's expense. These 
 nobles built strong castles which defied the attack of 
 even the king's armies, and became too often mere 
 5 
 
66 HISTORY OF B' RANGE. 
 
 dens of robbers. Men who preferred living on the 
 fruits of their neighbors' industry to earning their own 
 bread, had only to start out at the head of a body of re- 
 tainers whom they kept for the purpose, rob and murder 
 travelers on the public roads, and take by force the 
 cattle which a poor laborer had been toiling for years 
 to buy, or the harvest on which he depended for the 
 support of his family, to live at ease and bring up a 
 a family of sons to do just as their fathers had done. 
 But a brighter day was about to dawn on the unhappy 
 country, and a reign of peace and order to succeed 
 this one of dire confusion and miserv. 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 LOTJIS VT. AND HIS SOX. — 1108-1180. 
 
 T was fortunate for the country that the son 
 of Philip the First was so different from 
 Philip himself as to be called, in his young- 
 days, the Wide-Awake. In his later years this sur- 
 name was changed to Le Gros, or The Fat, by which 
 he is known in history; but in spite of his unwieldy 
 size, he was the most active and vigorous king that 
 France bad seen for more than a hundred years. 
 
 To improve the condition of the people generally, it 
 was necessary that he should begin by controlling the 
 great nobles; and as he was not strong enough alone 
 to accomplish this, he showed his wisdom by calling to 
 his assistance the two classes who were the most inter- 
 
LOUIS VI. AND HIS SON. 67 
 
 ested in his doing it — the clergy and the common peo- 
 ple. He encouraged the latter to form themselves into 
 associations called commimes, (very different from the 
 lawless rabble who have taken that name at different 
 times in the present century), and under promise of 
 his protection they were glad to fight for him against 
 the robber-barons who had so long preyed upon them. 
 The property belonging to the Church consisted mostly 
 of lands which the bishops rented out to small farmers, 
 or v^hich were tilled by their own serfs; and in furnish- 
 ing these men with weapons and sending them out to 
 fight the king's battles, the clergy were strengthening 
 their own power, and saving their own possessions 
 from destruction. 
 
 So all worked together, and in a few years Louis 
 had put down the most of the robber-barons, and let 
 them see that he was a king in fact as well as in 
 name; one by one they yielded to him, though gener- 
 ally not until after hard fighting and a good deal of 
 boasting on their part. Before they were all con- 
 quered the king had grown so enormously stout, in 
 spite of his active habits, that he could scarcely mount 
 his horse, and many a man would have thought this a 
 good excuse for staying at home and sending some- 
 body else to do the fighting; but Louis, though he had 
 no Benjamin Franklin to tell him, " When you want 
 a thing done, do it yourself," acted upon this plan, and 
 was always to be found in the front of an attack. He 
 had the advantage of a very wise and able minister 
 called Suger, whose advice was most valuable both to 
 him and to his son, Louis the Seventh, who succeeded 
 him. The latter, who, though he reigned forty-three 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 yciui'H, IB always spokoii of as " Lo Jeuno," — " Tho 
 Young" — had just married a young hoiross called 
 Eleanor of Aquitaine, and was hastening towards 
 Paris when news was brought him of his fatlier's 
 death. Ho was startled at finding himself suddenly 
 placed in so responsible a position; but he had the 
 good Suger to lean upon, and ruxturally expected a 
 h;i])py and prosperous life. It is fortunate that wcj 
 can not see what is before us; for if the poor young 
 king could have known half the disai)pointments and 
 mortifications that were in store for him he would 
 hardly have dared to begin his reign at all. Ilis first 
 trouble came IVom a iK^ighbor who was very apt to 
 make trouble in those days — the Pope. 
 
 Prom the days of Gregory tho Seventh (Ilildebrand,) 
 the popes had b'ion growing stronger and more able to 
 do as they pleased ; and when one of the bishops in 
 France died, it |)leaHr!(l Pope Innocent the Second to 
 appoint one of his own nephews to fill the place. Louis, 
 young as he was, knew that this was a thing whi(!h tho 
 Pope had no right to do, and resisted it with all his 
 might, nominjiting some one else, and declaring that while 
 he was above ground, no Pope should take such a liberty 
 with him. In return, the Pope excommunicated him, 
 which was no light matter at that time ; but Louis held 
 out until an accident happened so horrible that it made 
 him almost crazy, and ready to give up to the Pope or 
 any one else. 
 
 One of Louis's great vassals having taken the part of 
 the Pope, the king went against him with an army just 
 as his father Ix)uis the Sixth would have done. In the 
 course of the war Louis attacked and took the town of „ 
 
 1 
 
LOUIS VI. AND HIS SON. 69 
 
 Vitry, wliich was set on fire by his troops. Thirteen 
 liiiiidred pf'.oplc — rn(!n, womon and children — had 
 crowded into the great cliiircli to Ix; safe from the sol- 
 (Jicirs; tlie flames caught the l)tiilding, and the whole 
 niiiiil): !• peri,<h(}d by this liorrible death, while Louis 
 looked on in despair, iieipless to save. 
 
 It hc;(;iii(m1 as if tlie king's heart was broken. II(j 
 gr(;w wretciiedly low-B[)irited, gave up all th(5 advan- 
 tagciS he had gained over liis nibellious vassal, and was 
 ghid to make peace with tiu^ I'ojx^ by asking pardon, 
 and allowing Innocent's n(;[)h(;w t(j be made bishop — 
 a tiling he had swoi'n never to do. Still, all this did 
 not easii his mind; luj had broken his oath on the one 
 side, lie had made war for thrcic yciars against His Holi- 
 ness the Pope on tlui oth(!r. Whichever- way he looked, 
 h(^ felt like a miserable sinner; and just at the tinu! 
 when his heart was utterly failing him, a way was 
 ojxMied, as he thought, in which he might atone for all 
 his sln:^; St. Bsrnard was stirring up men's minds to 
 j»() on th(i scicond Crusade. 
 
 .Icrusahim, tlu; holy city, was still in the hands of 
 the Christians, but great outrages had been committed 
 jigainst them in other parts of Pahistine, and Kdessa, 
 one of their citi(iS, had beisn taken under circumstances 
 oT great cru(dty. So wIhmi St. Bernard spok(5 in a 
 gr(;at [)ublic asseml)ly to the French king and his no- 
 bles and to countless thousands who crowded around 
 to hear him, of the duty oi' Christians in this matter, 
 one long shout arose from all — "The cross! the cross!" 
 IJiirnard and the monks had prepared beforehand a 
 great quantity of crosses made of red cloth, ready to 
 (!W fast to the clothes (jf those who wished to go on 
 
70 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the crusade; the king, who saw in this the opportunity 
 of easing his burdened soul, was the first to kneel 
 down and receive the sacred symbol; the queen, who 
 was by no means religious, but ready for anything that 
 promised excitement and novelty, insisted upon taking 
 the cross likewise: and after them followed a brilliant 
 throno- of nobles, both men and women, and immense 
 numbers of the common people. When all the ready- 
 made crosses had been given away, the saint and the 
 monks who attended him tore their garments in pieces 
 to supply the still increasing demand. 
 
 It was in vain that Suger advised the king against 
 this rash undertaking, and tried to persuade him that 
 it was his duty to stay at home and take care of his 
 kino;dom. Louis was both ashamed and afraid to draw 
 back, and knowing that his queen would give him no 
 peace if he did not go, raised an army of a hundred 
 thousand fighting men, accompanied, as was then the 
 custom, by another army of hangers-on who did no 
 good and only hindered the march. It seems strange 
 that sensible men should not have known that a rabble 
 of women, children and idlers, who had to be fed and 
 sheltered, was not of any more use on a crusade than 
 it would have been if the kings had been fighting one 
 another at home; but the world in general became in- 
 sane the moment that Jerusalem was mentioned, and 
 no one dared to stop the crowds who professed to be 
 moved solely by the love of God and a desire to do 
 honor to his cause. 
 
 Alas for the vanity of human expectations! the end 
 of the mighty crusade entered upon by that vast host 
 in the pride of their strength and hope, was one of 
 
LOUIS VI. AND HIS SON. 71 
 
 the most dismal failures recorded in history. Betrayed 
 by the Greek emperor at Constantinople who had 
 promised to help him, obliged to abandon the main 
 body of his army (who were either massacred, forced 
 to turn Mahometans or sold as slaves), and cut to the 
 heart by the misconduct of his wife, who was a woman 
 whom nobody could respect, Louis passed two miserable 
 years in Palestine, ashamed to present himself again 
 before the people of France, who had witnessed his bril- 
 liant departure. At length, yielding to the urgent en- 
 treaties of Suger, and thinking, perhaps, that Queen 
 Eleanor would behave better at home than she did 
 abroad, he came back to his own country with a scanty 
 band of two or three hundred knights — the sole rem- 
 nant of the mighty host who had set out with him for 
 Palestine in all the glory of their fresh hopes so 
 short a time before. 
 
 Louis returned from misfortune abroad only to fresh 
 misfortune at home. The haughty and insolent 
 Eleanor professed to despise him because he had 
 shown so little wisdom in respect to the crusade, 
 called him a coward, and loudly demanded a divorce. 
 Louis, who was naturally disgusted with her behavior, 
 weakly yielded to this measure, which could not have 
 been accomplished without his consent; and in six 
 weeks»he had the mortification of seeing the rich pos- 
 sessions which made up more than half of his own king- 
 dom pass into the hands of his rival, Henry the Second 
 of England, who was quite willing to take Eleanor 
 with all her faults, for the sake of the countries she 
 brought with her. We know from English history 
 how unhappy she made him, but that did not helj) 
 
72 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Louis, who must have felt that she had outwitted him. 
 Here again he acted against the advice of" Suger, who 
 would gladly have persuaded him to overlook what he 
 could not prevent. The faithful minister, died before 
 their separation; and it is a proof of the inconsistency 
 of human bein(>:s that he was even then meditatincr 
 another crusade, to be led by himself, which should 
 retrieve the disgcrace of the last one! 
 
 The rest of Louis's long reign was diversified with 
 frequent quarrels between himself and Henry H., in 
 which the crafty Englishman invariably gained the 
 victory in the end. Loais did what mischief he could 
 by encouraging the frequent rebellions of Henry's sons 
 against their father, but he could not prevent the 
 family of Plantagenet from getting and keeping, in one 
 way or another, a large part of France. Normandy 
 had come to them from William the Conqueror, and 
 the great country or earldom of Anjou from Geoffrey 
 Plantagenet, father of Henry the Second, while Con- 
 stance of Brittany, who married Henry's son Geoffrey, 
 brought the duchy of Brittany into the family as her 
 marriage portion. With all these slices taken off, but 
 very little of what we now call France remained in the 
 hands of Louis the Seventh. 
 
 It was in his reign that the oriflamme was first used at 
 the head of the French armies. This was a red silk 
 banner with tongues or flames of gold upon it, and had 
 belono-ed to the Cathedral of St. Denis. Louis took a 
 fancy to it and adopted it as the national flag of France, 
 where it continued in use for centuries. 
 
PHILIP AUGUSTUS. LOUIS VIIL 73 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PHILIP AUGUSTUS. LOUIS VIII. — 1180-122G. 
 
 jHTLIP the Second, son of Louis the Seventh, 
 received from his father the name of Dieu- 
 
 donn^, or God-given, in token of the pleasure 
 felt at his birth. It is uncertain how he came by that of 
 Augustus, but it has clung firmly to him from his own 
 time to this. Although only fifteen years old at the 
 time of his father's death, he assumed at oncethe posi- 
 tion of a man, took the government into his own hands, 
 and married Isabella of Hainault, a descendant of the 
 last of the Carlovingians. This was very gratifying to 
 the French people, for the name of Charlemagne was 
 <learer to them than any other, and they felt that he 
 had thus, in a manner, come back to them. 
 
 Philip began his reign with one steady purpose in 
 his heart — that of doino; all he could to brinor down 
 the pride and lessen the power of Henry Plantagenet, 
 king of England. On the boundary line between Nor- 
 mandy and France there stood a magnificent elm tree, 
 under the shade of whose spreading branches it was 
 said that three hundred men could find shelter. This 
 had been a favorite place of meeting for king Louis 
 and Llenry II.; and Philip, who was sometimes present 
 at these talks, used to be secretly enraged at hearing 
 how his simple-minded father was overreached by the 
 cunning Henry, so he determined that when it came his 
 turn to reign he would " pay him back." They had 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 many bitter quarrels, and at last, in a fit of passion, 
 Philip had the grand old elm cut down, so that no 
 more talking about peace might be done under it. If 
 he had let it alone it might have been there to this 
 day. 
 
 From the very beginning, Philip was intensely anx- 
 ious for the glory and advancement of his country. 
 After he became king, he was once observed to be biting 
 and gnawing at a piece of green bough he held in his 
 hand, evidently forgetting every thing around him, and 
 one of the courtiers ventured to ask him what he was 
 thinking of. " I am thinking," said the king, " of a 
 certain matter ; and that is, whether God will give me, 
 or one of my heirs, grace to raise France to the height 
 it was at in the time of Charlemagne." It was not pos- 
 sible for any man in the twelfth century to make France 
 what it had been in the time of Charlemagne; but 
 Philip Agustus did one thing which Charlemagne had 
 iailed in ; he left his kingdom so firmly bound together 
 that it did not split apart at his death. 
 
 "When Philip had been reigning seven years, the 
 proposition for a third crusade set all Europe in a fer- 
 ment once more, and he was one of the first to take 
 the cross. In one of those short intervals when he was 
 on friendly terms with Richard Coeur de Lion, they 
 agreed to go to the Holy Land together; but when 
 there, Richard's haughty bearing so disgusted Philip 
 that he left his companion in arms to finish the crusade 
 by himself, and came home with the greater part of 
 his army. French historians defend his action in this 
 matter, but it is highly probable that the hot-tempered 
 Richard thought him a coward and a sneak, though he 
 
PHILIP AUGUSTUS. LOUIS VIII. 75 
 
 did not say so. They parted civilly enough, and Philip 
 took a solemn oath before leaving Palestine that he 
 would respect the rights of his brother of England, 
 and do him no mischief in his absence. 
 
 He was not the man, however, to keep an oath when 
 anything waS/to be made by breaking it, and we hear 
 of him at Rome, on the way home, asking the pope to 
 absolve him from his vow. His first business after his 
 return was to enter into a close friendship with Prince 
 John of England, Richard''s brother, and to encourage 
 him to rebellion by every means in his power. We all 
 know how it fared with Richard on his return; how he 
 was shipwrecked, and taken captive and kept in prison 
 in Germany; how Philip and John were plotting to- 
 gether against him all this time, and how, when he 
 escaped at last, the false friend wrote to the false 
 brother, " Take care of yourself, for the devil has 
 broken loose." After this there could be no longer 
 even a pretence of friendship between the two kings, 
 but the death of Richard relieved Philip from his worst 
 enemy, and quickly deserting the new king, John, he 
 took up the cause of Arthur of Brittany, who was the 
 rightful heir to the English throne. 
 
 It soon became plain that he had not supported the 
 claim of this young man from any love of justice, but 
 only to injure and weaken King John ; for when the 
 latter proposed that Philip's son Louis should marry 
 Blanche of Castile, a niece of John, the French king 
 immediately forgot all about Arthur's rights, and left 
 him to do the best he could for himself. As if every 
 thing played into Philip's hands, the cold-blooded mur- 
 der of the young prince by his uncle John soon offer- 
 
76 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 ed an excuse for attacking the latter again, and the 
 remainder of John's reign was only a series of strug- 
 gles against his powerful enemy. The final struggle 
 took place at the battle of Bouvines, in Flanders, 
 where Philip won a splendid victory which placed him 
 at the height of power and glory. 
 
 This was the end of his fighting. He spent the rest 
 of his life in making secure what he had gained, and 
 in improving, in every possible way, the condition of 
 his country and his people. We can hardly realize at 
 this day the' difference between France as he left it 
 and France as he found it. Many institutions of learn- 
 ing were founded or encouraged by him, and such 
 works as public aqueducts, markets, hospitals, and 
 churches still remain to show how intelligently he used 
 the money furnished him by his people. 
 
 The city of Paris, where he lived, was especially 
 the object of his care. He found it neglected and 
 filthy, its narrow streets choked up by rubbish, and 
 dirty animals quite as much at home there as human 
 beings. His uncle, the elder brother of Louis the 
 Seventh, had been killed by his horse stumbling over 
 one of the pigs which were then allowed to roam at 
 liberty through the streets of the capital. Philip 
 changed all this. As he was standing one day at his 
 palace window, watching the flow of the river Seine, 
 he was almost stifled by the foul odors, that came to 
 him from the streets, and turning away in disgust, the 
 idea occurred to him that he would have the streets 
 paved with stone, which was partly carried out in his 
 own time. He wished to clear Paris of its old name, 
 Lutetia, which as I told you meant "mud-town." He 
 
PHILIP AUGUSTUS. LOUIS VIII. 77 
 
 corapletod the grand old church of Notre Dame, 
 which stands on an island in the Seine that once 
 cont':iined the whole city of Paris, and enlarged and 
 repaired the palace of the Louvre, which still stands 
 to attest his masrnificence. 
 
 The crusades against the Mahometans were not the 
 only ones undertaken in that ferocious age. There 
 was a frightful persecution of the Jews by Philip's 
 orders, and an equally terrible war against the Albi- 
 genses, a simple-minded and harmless people who 
 liv^ed in the district around Albi, a city of the beauti- 
 ful country called Languedoc, in the south of France. 
 Here a sect of Christians had sprung up who differed 
 in doctrine from the Catholic Church, and who, seeing 
 that in many things the lives of the monks were not 
 what they ought to be, openly reproached them for 
 their shortcomings. They were, in fact, a sort of 
 Protestants, and Innocent III. ordered that they 
 should be treated like infidels, giving the charge of 
 the expedition against them to Simon de Montfort, 
 a brave but cruel man, who had already been on a 
 crusade and knew how such thino-s were done. 
 
 This leader was the father of that famous Simon de 
 Montfort who plays such an important part in the his- 
 tory of England in the time of Henry III. He thought 
 that the best thing to do with heretics was to burn or 
 hang them ; so he was a man after Innocent's own heart. 
 Armed with the Pope's authority, he collected a large 
 army and marched against the Albigenses as if they had 
 been Turks. No mercy was shown. When the Cru- 
 saders were about to attack a large city which contained 
 both heretics and good Catholics, some one asked a 
 
78 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 priest who was with SimoD, what should be done about 
 it. " Kill them all ! " was the savage auswer ; " the 
 Lord will know his own ! " Not a living soul was 
 spared ; men, women and children were slaughtered like 
 wild beasts, and after the city had been given up to the 
 soldiers to plunder, it was set on fire, and soon nothing 
 remained of it but heaps of ashes. 
 
 This was a specimen of the whole war. One would 
 think in reading about it that the crusaders had been 
 American Indians in disguise, so little humanity did 
 they show. It would be too heart-rending to relate all 
 they did; but one passage, taken from a writer who lived 
 at that time, will give some idea of their w^ay of making 
 w^ar. "After the taking of the castle of Lavaur, Amaur}^, 
 Lord of Montreal, and eighty other knights were dragged 
 out from it, the noble Count Simon commanding that 
 they should all be hung on one gibbet. But when 
 Amaury, the most important man among them, was 
 hung, the gallows fell, not having been firmly fixed in 
 the ground, owing to the great haste. The Count, seeing 
 that this would cause much delay, ordered that the 
 others should have their throats cut, and the pilgrims 
 joyfully fell upon them and massacred them all on the 
 spot. The iady of the castle, Amaury 's sister, and a 
 very wicked heretic, was, by the Count's orders, thrown 
 into a well, which was filled up with stones. Finally 
 our crusaders gathered together the innumerable her- 
 etics who were in the castle, and burned them alive with 
 extreme joy." 
 
 And this was done in the name of the religion of 
 Christ ! 
 
 Philip Augustus was too wise a man not to disap- 
 
PHILIP AUGUSTUS. LOUIS VIIL 79 
 
 prove of such horrid deeds, and was much displeased 
 that the Pope should thus intrude upon his dominions 
 and make war upon his vassals, but he did not venture 
 to quarrel with him, especially as he needed all his 
 strength to fight King John. So he remained passive 
 while Simon de Montfort went on triumphantly kill- 
 ing, burning and destroying; the Pope all the while 
 encouraging the Crusaders, and promising Heaven to 
 those who fell, and a share in the land to those who 
 conquered; and alter the lovely valleys of Languedoc 
 and Provence had been made desolate, the people 
 silenced and their rulers killed or forced to submit, 
 the war was declared to be at an end. " He made a 
 solitude and called it Peace." 
 
 Another enterprise which Philip H. permitted 
 rather than encourao-ed, was an invasion of Eno;land 
 undertaken by his son, afterward Louis YIII. 
 The English barons, disgusted by the behavior of King- 
 John, invited the young prince to take his place. 
 Louis collected an army and landed in England, where 
 he was warmly welcomed; but the death of King John 
 soon afterward turned the hearts of the people 
 towards his son Henrj^, a boy of nine years old, who 
 had done them no wrong, and Louis was civilly dis- 
 missed. 
 
 Louis the Eighth reigned only three years, and is 
 known in history chiefly as being the son of a great 
 father, the father of an excellent son, and the husband 
 of the most admirable woman of her time, Blanche 
 of Castile, who was left Regent of the Kingdom at 
 his death, his son Louis the Ninth being then only 
 twelve years old. 
 
80 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 The proud noblemen who had been kept down by 
 the firm hand of Philip Augustus did not at all relish 
 the idea of being subject to a child who was himself 
 under the authority of a woman; but Blanche of 
 Castile seemed to have been born on purpose to hold 
 just the position she did. She had great good sense and 
 a strong will, joined with elegant manners, and a certain 
 useful quality called tact^ which enables people to go 
 through the world without giving offence. So, 
 although the great lords began by forming parties 
 ai^ainst her, she manasred to steer clear of difficulties, 
 or when she met them, she overcame them so skill- 
 fully that her enemies hardly perceived that she had 
 got the better of them. 
 
 According to the custom of the time. Queen 
 Blanche selected a wife for her son — a beautiful girl 
 called Marguerite, daughter of the Count of Provence. 
 We know little about this young lady, except that 
 Louis was very fond of her; and as he was of a most 
 noble character himself, we take it for granted that 
 she was endowed w^ith all womanly virtues. The 
 queen-mother, wise and good as she was, could not 
 help being a little jealous of her daughter-in-law, 
 fearing that her society would make king Louis forget 
 his duties. One of the lords of the court called 
 Joinville, has left us a most interesting sketch of Louis 
 the Ninth, and tells some amusing stories about the 
 way in which his mother continued to rule him, even 
 after he was a man o-rown. 
 
 She kept such a close watch upon him and his wife 
 that they could scarcely ever talk together, except in 
 secret, and one of their plans to escape her vigilance 
 
Sr. LOUIS. PHILIP THE BOLD. 81 
 
 shows considerable ingenuity. They had apartments 
 one over the other in different stories of the same pal- 
 ace, an inner staircase leading from one to the other, 
 and on this stairway they would meet and have their 
 talks together without interruption. They took the 
 sentinels at the doors into their confidence, and when 
 Queen Blanche was approaching to pay either of them 
 a visit, these men had orders to knock on the floor 
 with their staves, or make some unusual noise, to let 
 the royal pair know who was coming. Then we can 
 imagine them scampering away to their own rooms, 
 where the king would perhaps be found reading his 
 book, and the queen busy with her embroidery. It 
 must have been very comical to all who were in the 
 secret. 
 
 CHAPTEB X. 
 
 ST. LOUIS. PHILIP THE BOLD. 1226-1285. 
 
 T is not likely that any of the brilliant com- 
 pany who were assembled at the wedding of 
 Louis and the charming Marguerite, thought 
 that the title of saint would ever be added to his name. 
 He was nineteen years old, handsome, refined-looking 
 and graceful; well educated according to the ideas of 
 his time, and fond of such amusements as were then 
 customary among gentlemen — hunting, hawking, and 
 various kinds of games. He had a taste also for fine 
 clothes and elegant furniture, not unbecoming to his 
 years and station. 
 6 
 
82 III ST OB Y OF FRANCE. 
 
 After his marriage, however, he seemed to lose his 
 interest in outside amusements. He gave up, of his 
 own accord, the pleasures he had taken so much delight 
 in; replaced his costly clothes by a simpler dress, and 
 found in the enjoyments of home and the cares of pub- 
 lic business ample occupation for all the hours not oc- 
 cupied in devotion. From his childhood he showed a 
 sincere and fervent piety, and his mother had brought 
 him up in the feeling that it was better and nobler to 
 do what was right than to acquire any earthly gain or 
 glory. Yet he did not neglect the affairs of his king- 
 dom. He lost no opportunity of securing advantages 
 for his country when he could do so honestly, and by 
 wisdom and firmness succeeded in brino-ing- all the 
 great vassals into obedience. 
 
 A good king, a good neighbor, a good husband and 
 father, a good son, — w^hat a pity that he could not 
 have been content to go on and lead his whole life ac- 
 cordino- to that excellent beorinnino- ! But the same 
 spirit of devotion to duty which had been his ruling- 
 principle through life, made him think that he ought to 
 go on a crusade. Horrible things were happening in 
 Asia. It was not only the Saracens who were now 
 opposing the Christians there, but also a new army of | 
 people, the Mongol Tartars ; barbarians who amused 
 themselves after a battle by making pyramids of the 
 human heads they had cut off, and who caused money to 
 be made with the word "Destruction" stamped up- 
 on it. 
 
 They meant what they said. . In a battle near Gazaj 
 thirty thousand Christians had perished, and Jerusalem, 
 then in the hands of the Mahometans, had been sack- 
 
ST. LOUIS. PHILIP THE BOLD. 83 
 
 ed with frightful carnage. The Latin Emperor of 
 Constantinople begged St. Louis for help, and a severe 
 illness which happened to him just at this time decided 
 the question at once. While hovering between life 
 and death, he made a vow to lead an army to the Holy 
 Land if he should recover ; and though his wife and 
 mother fell on their knees before him trying to per- 
 suade him to give it up, and all the wisest men in his 
 kingdom advised him against it, he persisted in doing 
 what he thought was right. ^ 
 
 It was the great mistake of his life. Though he 
 spent several years in making preparations, the result 
 of his expedition was a miserable failure. He went 
 first to Egypt, where the Saracens were very strong; 
 and when the fleet arrived at Damietta he leaped into 
 the water in full armor and waded ashore, so eager 
 was he to meet the enemy. The city was taken, but 
 though there were plenty of brave men in the army, 
 there was no great general, and Louis failed to make 
 the most of his success. 
 
 The crusaders advanced towards the city of Man- 
 sourah, and a part of the army having with great diffi- 
 culty forced their way into it, the enemy shut the gates 
 behind tliem, and they were massacred, almost to a 
 man, in its narrow streets. The remainder fought 
 their way forward, sometimes gaining a victory; but 
 the thousands of corpses lying un buried under a trop- 
 ical sun caused a pestilence in the army, and there 
 was nothing to do but retreat. The dead Saracens 
 were even more destructive to them than the living 
 ones. The enemy pursued the Christian host nearly 
 to Damietta, and there the king, who was very ill 
 
84 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 from the effects of the climate, was made prisoner 
 with his whole array. 
 
 Many of these heroic men, — for they were heroes in 
 spite of their mistakes — were immediately put to 
 death; others were spared on condition of their 
 turning Mahometans, and remaining among their 
 enemies, and the richest were kept for enormous 
 ransoms which their captors required of them. 
 That of king Louis was fixed at a sum equal to 
 about two millions of dollars in gold. Louis instant- 
 ly promised to pay that sum for the release of his 
 soldiers, adding that he would give the city of Da- 
 mietta for his own ransom, as the value of a king could 
 not be counted in money. The sultan was so much 
 pleased with this generosity that he gave up, of his 
 own accord, one-fifth of the sum of money demanded. 
 
 The story of St. Louis's adventures in the East 
 would fill a whole book, but we must pass them over 
 with only a slight mention. The Queen went with 
 him to the crusade, and when he was taken prisoner 
 was for a while separated from him, which of course was 
 a time of cruel anxiety to her. She told an old knight 
 who was taking care of her, that he must take an oath 
 to kill her if the city where she was should be taken by 
 the Saracens, and was perhaps a little surprised when 
 he assured her that she need not feel the slightest 
 anxiety on that score for it was just what he had already 
 made up his mind to do! She had a little son born 
 under these painful circumstances who was called 
 John, and was surnamed Tristan, or The Sad, in mem- 
 ory of that dreadful time. , 
 
 In his truce with the Sultan, Louis had agreed not 1 
 
ST. LOUIS. PHILIP THE BOLD. 85 
 
 to fight against him for ten years, but he could not bear 
 to go back to France without having done something. 
 He spent four years in Palestine, fortifying the towns in 
 possession of the Christians, and helping them with 
 money and kind actions of all sorts, and might have 
 remained still longer but that news was brought to 
 him of the death of Queen Blanche, who had been left 
 as Regent in his absence. This was a great grief to 
 him, for he loved her sincerely, and felt that he owed 
 her a deep debt of gratitude. One of the last acts of 
 her life had been to put down an uprising of the peas- 
 ants, called Pastorals, who had committed frightful out- 
 rages in France, especially towards the clergy. They 
 were subdued, and Louis found his country quiet and 
 prosperous, and his people delighted to welcome him 
 back after his six years' absence. 
 
 All who saw him, however, perceived with regret 
 that his face bore marks of deep and settled sorrow. 
 The old light-heartedness was gone ; a heavy weight 
 seemed resting on his mind, and he still wore the red 
 cross on his shoulder. Yet the fifteen years that fol- 
 lowed his return were among the most beautiful of his 
 life. He lived like a father among his people, dealing jus- 
 tice equally to all. _ He is described as sitting at Vincen- 
 nes under an oak tree, and letting all the common people 
 who had anything to complain of, bring their troubles 
 directly to him. He loved the office of peace-maker, 
 and was never weary of reconciling his barons one 
 to another, often making up from his private purse the 
 loss which he decided should be borne by one of the 
 parties. He strictl}?- forbade them to settle their dis- 
 putes by battle, as had formerly been the custom, and 
 
86 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 made such just and equal laws that even the haughty 
 peers were willing to abide by them. All people relied 
 on him ; the clergy for his piety, the nobles for his jus- 
 tice, the poor for his generosity and mercy ; and under 
 him France became a model for the countries of the 
 earth. 
 
 But alas! the old shadow hung over the king; he 
 never felt that his vow had been accomplished, and in 
 spite of all that could be said against it, he resolved 
 upon another crusade. It was so unpopular that the 
 prudent Joinville considered himself justified in refus- 
 ing to join it, but the influence of the king was great, 
 and many knights felt that tbey would rather go with 
 him, even to defeat, than stay behind in selfish peace 
 and security. His invitation to his nobles to accom- 
 pany him on one of his crusades has a touch of humor 
 about it. " It was the custom to g-ive each courtier a 
 new robe at Christmas. On Christmas Eve the kinof- 
 bade all his court be present at early morning mass. 
 At the chapel door each man received his new cloak, 
 put it on, and went in. At first all was dark; but as 
 the day rose, each saw the cross on his neighbor's 
 shoulder." At first they were disposed to laugh at 
 one another, but when they remembered that having 
 once assumed the cross they could not draw back with- 
 out shame, their faces grew long, for they would much 
 have preferred staying at home. « 
 
 Contrary to the wish of the Pope, Louis took three 
 of his sons with him on his second crusade, the young- 
 est being only seventeen years old. His own health 
 was so feeble at the time that the journey was little 
 better than an act of madness. Instead of going at 
 
ST. LOUIS. PHILIP THE BOLD. 87 
 
 once to the Holy Land, he landed at Tunis, on the 
 coast of Africa, which was in possession of the Ma- 
 hometans; but before there was time to do anything, 
 and while the king was waiting for tlie arrival of his 
 brother, a dreadful sickness, caused by the climate, 
 broke out in the army. Poor John Tristan was one of 
 the first to lay down his young life, and very soon the 
 king was attacked also. He had little idea of getting 
 well, and made his arrangements for death with the 
 utmost calmness. He called his remaining sons to 
 him, as well as his daughter Isabel and her husband, 
 who had accomj^anied him, and gave them his last in- 
 structions and his blessing, exhorting Prince Philip, 
 who was to succeed him, to rule justly and in the fear 
 of God. Then he caused a bed of ashes to be made 
 on the floor, on which he was laid in token of humility 
 and sorrow for sin; and on this he died, murmuring 
 "Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" almost with his last breath. 
 
 We should not get a good idea of St. Louis if we 
 thought of him only as a king, and did not look into 
 his family circle. We are told that "after supper his 
 children followed him into his room, where they sat 
 down around him; he instructed them in their duties, 
 and then sent them away to bed. . . . When he 
 had time he went to see them in their own apartment, 
 inquired into the progress they were making in their 
 studies, and gave them excellent instruction." 
 
 He delighted, as all wise men have done, in the 
 society of men of learning; and good old Joinville 
 tells us, " When we were at court with him in private, 
 he would sit at the foot of his bed; and if any one 
 proposed reading aloud to him he would say, ' You 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 shall not read tome, for after dinner there is nothing 
 so pleasant as talking freely, where every one can say 
 what he likes.' .... I was twenty-two years 
 in his company without ever having heard him use an 
 oath. . . . Never did I hear him name the devil, 
 except in reading some book where it was proper to 
 name him. And it is a o-reat diso,Tace to the 
 kingdom of France that one can hardly speak now 
 without saying, ' The devil take it! ' In the Joinville 
 household any one who utters such a word receives a 
 box on the ears or a slap on the face, and bad language 
 is thus almost entirely suppressed." 
 
 The king was most severe against blasphemy, and 
 appears to have invented several punishments for it. 
 Joinville "saw a goldsmith placed by his orders on a 
 ladder, in shirt and drawers, with a pig's entrails round 
 his neck in such quantity that they reached to his 
 nose. And I have heard," he goes on, " that he 
 ordered a burgher of Paiis to be branded on the nose 
 and under lip for the same offense; but I did not see 
 that." When the king heard that complaints were 
 made of this severity, he declared that he would be 
 willing himself to be so branded, and to bear the shame 
 of it all his life, if by so doing the sin of blasphemy 
 might disappear from his dominions. 
 
 The son who succeeded St. Louis was called Philip 
 the Bold, though it is difficult to tell why, for he seems 
 to have been an insignificant sort of person. He 
 might have been called Philip the Sorrowful Avhen he 
 came back from Tunis, for he brought with him five 
 coffins containing the remains of his father, of John 
 Tristan, of his brother in-law the king of Navarre, and 
 
Sr. LOUIS. PHILIP THE BOLD. 89 
 
 of his own wife and his infant son, who had died on 
 the way home. It must have boon a dreary time; and 
 instead of the joyful appUiuse which usually greeted 
 a kinof's return, a mournful silence reio-ned in the 
 streets of Paris, as the funeral procession slowly took 
 its way towards the cathedral of St. Denis. 
 
 The chief interest of Philip's reign lies not so much 
 in his own doings as in those of his uncle, Charles of 
 Anjou, whose misgovern ment in Sicily was the cause 
 of the hori-ible massacre known as " The Sicilian 
 Vespers." The Pope had offered the crown of Sicily 
 and Naples to St. Louis for one of his sons; but as 
 that upright monarch would not take it from the 
 rightful heir, it was next offered to his brother Charles, 
 who accepted it without scruple. His tyranny so 
 enraged the Sicilians that thev rose ao-ainst the French 
 in the island and killed several thousands of them. 
 Charles was driven out of Sicily, and the king of 
 Aragon took possession of it. 
 
 The Pope, who was firmly persuaded that all the 
 kingdoms of the earth were his to give or take away 
 as he pleased, now offered the crown of Aragon to 
 Philip the Third of France if he would conquer it for 
 himself, that being the usual condition on wiiich such 
 things were granted. This prince, not having the 
 sensitive conscience which had distinguished his father, 
 eagerly consented, and led an army into Spain for the 
 purpose. He might better have stayed at home; the 
 terrible heat cut down his soldiers faster than the 
 swords of their enemies could do, and he was more 
 anxious to get back into his own country than he had 
 been to leave it. It was hard to get provisions, or proper 
 
90 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 attendance for the sick, who died by hundreds on the 
 way ; the Spaniards attacked them continually as they 
 marched, and to crown all, the King fell sick, and before 
 the miserable remains of his army could reach the 
 capital, he himself was numbered with the dead. His 
 ambition had proved his ruin. 
 
 He was succeeded by his son, Philip the Fourth, 
 called " The Fair," who was but seventeen years old 
 at the time of his father's death. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A, ■ 
 
 PHILIP THE FAIR AND HIS SONS. M85 1428. 
 
 HE surname of this king must have been 
 derived entirely from a handsome face, for, 
 according to the ungrammatical old proverb 
 " Handsome is that handsome does," he did not deserve 
 it on the score of good actions. He seems to have 
 been thoroughly selfish and cold-hearted, greedy for 
 money and unscrupulous in his ways of getting it. 
 He introduced the practice of debasing the coin — that 
 is, mixing inferior metals with gold and silver, — and 
 then refused to take this money in payment of the debts 
 due to himself. In our day no people would bear 
 such treatment, except, perhaps, in a despotic country 
 like Turkey ; but in the fourteenth century it was con- 
 sidered the duty of subjects to endure whatever their 
 kings chose to command. 
 
PHILIP THE FAIR AND HIS SONS. 91 
 
 Kin«^s were not the only oppressors in those dark 
 centuries. Every noble was possessed of almost abso- 
 lute power over the unfortunate peasants who obtained 
 a wretched living by tilling his land. We read of 
 their being forced to perform unmanly and degrading 
 antics for the amusement of the lords and their 
 guests, and of their being kept up all night, after a 
 hard day's work, to beat the surface of a pond near 
 some fine lady's window, that her slumbers might not 
 be disturbed by the croaking of the frogs ! A heavy 
 reckoning were the masters heaping up for themselves, 
 to be paid in the fullness of time. 
 
 Philip the Fourth was certainly a man of energy 
 and talent. His ingenuity in getting money has sel- 
 dom been equalled. The parliament, or high court 
 of justice, which under St. Louis had been the 
 place where all men were sure of obtaining their 
 rights, was considered by him only an instrument 
 by which he could squeeze money out of his sub- 
 jects. You must remember that in France the word 
 parliament has never meant what it does in England 
 — a body of men like our Congress, who meet to make 
 laws for the people. It was more like our Supreme 
 Court. The States-General, which in France took the 
 place of a parliament or congress, was brought together 
 for the first time in the reign of Philip the Fair, and 
 was made up of three classes, the nobles, the clergy, 
 and the common people, or, as they were afterwards 
 called, the Third Estate. 
 
 Though the King required so much money for his 
 own purposes, he had no mind that his people should 
 be extravagant. The less they spent on themselves, the 
 
92 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 more they would have for him; so he made very strict 
 laws to regulate what they should eat, drink and wear. 
 Nobody was to have more than one dish of meat at 
 dinner and two at supper, and as people thought just 
 as much good eating then as they do now, this was 
 a great annoyance to them. They tried to get rid of 
 it by putting several kinds of meat on the same dish, 
 but the -king soon heard of it, and made anew law 
 forbiddino; it. One mio;ht have thouo;ht be was a 
 dressmaker, to read over the laws regulating the cloth- 
 ing of his subjects. The quantity of trimming allowed 
 on a dress was exactly stated, and depended on the 
 rank of the wearer. To make a distinction between 
 the nobles and common people, the latter were not 
 allowed to keep a carriage or have a wax candle car- 
 ried before them at night, and their wives were for- 
 bidden to wear expensive furs, gold or jewels. It must 
 have been hard for these rich people not to spend 
 their own money as they pleased, but "■ the king wills 
 it " was enough, and they never thought of grumbling 
 — at least, not aloud. 
 
 Long, pointed shoes were the fashion in this reign, 
 but here, again, the khig had something to say. The 
 plain man could not have his shoes more than twelve 
 inches long ; this was called " the king's foot." A 
 knight might extend them to eighteen inches, a baron 
 to twenty-four, and a prince to thirty, or two feet and 
 a half of our measure. Probably the king would have 
 liked to have his about five feet lono- if it had not been 
 for setting a good example to his subjects, which he 
 was very anxious to do. How these good people man- 
 aged to get along without tripping each other up, is 
 
PHILIP THE FAIR AND HIS SONS. 93 
 
 not stated, but one soon becomes accustomed to the 
 most inconvenient fashions, as we have seen in our 
 own day. 
 
 Philip was always trying to get what was not his own, 
 and therefore always quarreling with somebody. His 
 first attack was on Edward the First of England, whom 
 he cheated out of the province of Guienne, one of the 
 English possessions in France. Having patched up a 
 peace with him, he next invaded the rich country of 
 Flanders on his northeastern border, and soon declared it 
 " annexed" to France. But the liberty-loving Flem- 
 ings, after enduring for a short time the tyranny of an 
 insolent French governor, were disposed to act over 
 again the tragedy of the Sicilian Vespers. At the 
 dead of night a sudden war-cry sounded in the silent 
 city of Bruges ; chains were stretched across the 
 streets to prevent the French from running about the 
 town, as it was said ; but there was not much danger 
 of their running, for they were pitched headlong from 
 high windows to dash out their brains upon the stone 
 pavements, or taken to the slaughter-houses to have 
 their throats cut, — and before the dreadful carnival was 
 at an end, a bloody grave was all that remained to 
 those who had been feeding upon the fat of the land 
 in conquered Flanders. 
 
 To punish these audacious rebels, Philip sent an 
 army into their country under the command of some 
 of his bravest generals. At the battle of Courtray, 
 which followed, the Flemings showed that it was not 
 only in midnight massacres that they could make way 
 with their foes. The French were hopelessly beaten ; 
 their gilt spurs were picked up by the bushel, at least 
 
94 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 so the story runs, and hung up as trophies in the 
 great church; and instead of a courier spurring gaily 
 towards Paris with the news of a triumph, a jaded 
 fugitive brought Phih'p a scrap of bloody parchment 
 on which some wounded knio-ht had scrawled the 
 tidings of defeat. 
 
 At length peace was made with Flanders, but there 
 was another quarrel to be fought out. The Pope of 
 that day, Boniface the Eighth, a haughty and over- 
 bearing man, had already ha'd some disputes with 
 Philip as to the right of the latter to tax the clergy, 
 the King taking the ground, that as this class were as 
 much interested as any other in the good order and 
 prosperity of the country, they ought therefore to help 
 in supporting the government. This the Pope would 
 not listen to, and sent out one bull after another against 
 him, each more abusive than the last. As the King 
 was not in the least affected by these bulls, and held 
 fast to his own purpose, Pope Boniface excommuni- 
 cated him and threatened to lay his kingdom under an 
 interdict, which, in those times, was a great calamity 
 for the people. By " Interdiction " all offices of the 
 clergy w^ere forbidden, except the baptism of new-born 
 infants; there could be no service in the churches, no 
 burial of the dead with religious rites, x\o marriages; 
 the King was declared deposed, and whoever should 
 kill him was assured of the Pope's forgiveness. 
 
 This state of things could not last forever, and some 
 of Philip's friends in Italy who had their own private 
 reasons for hating the Pope, forced their way into his 
 palace at Anagni, and took him prisonor. It is even 
 said that one of them brutally struck the white-haired 
 
PHILIP THE FAIR AND HIS SONS. 95 
 
 old man in the lace with his iron gauntlet, so that the 
 blood streamed down. Boniface was rescued after a 
 few days by his friends, and taken to Rome, but he had 
 received his death blow. He lost his reason, and after 
 some weeks of sufferino- durino- which he imao;ined 
 himself starving, he was found dead in his bed. 
 
 After a short interval, Philip persuaded the Cardinals 
 to choose a Pope of his own nomination, — a French- 
 man who took the name of Clement the Fifth. He 
 was the King's very obedient servant, and agreed 
 beforehand to the most degrading conditions, as the 
 price to be paid for his elevation. He established himsolf 
 at Avio^non, in France, instead of at Rome, and for 
 seventy years his successors. Frenchmen like himself, 
 followed his example. When any thing too shameful 
 was required of him by Philip, he would try to get 
 off by pretending to be sick, but he never succeeded 
 in shaking himself free of the king, who held on like 
 a leech. Philip's principal use for him was to make 
 him force money out of the people, and poor Clement 
 traveled from place to place, exacting tithes for this, 
 and tithes for that, until everybody hated the sight of 
 him. He extorted money from the Jews until it was 
 plain that they could yield no more, but this was not 
 enough. The cry of Philip was still for "gold! gold!" 
 and when all other sources had been drained dry, he 
 revealed to the Pope a scheme he had long been 
 revolving in his mind; it was the destruction of the 
 Knights Templars. 
 
 To understand what this means, you must go back to 
 the time of the First Crusade. After Jerusalem ha<l 
 been taken by the Christians in 1099, most of the 
 
96 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 crusading army returned to Europe, leaving those who 
 stayed in Palestine in a rather unprotected position. 
 For the defence and relief of these, two great socie- 
 ties were established; one called the Knights of St. 
 John, who took care of the sick and of strangers, and 
 the other called the Knights of the Temple, who bound 
 themselves to erect a temple at Jerusalem and main- 
 tain it ao'ainst the infidels. They were both monks and 
 knights ; that is, they were not allowed to marry, and 
 were obliged to give up the riches and pleasures of 
 life and promise obedience to their superiors ; but it 
 was also their duty to fight fqr their cause, which monks 
 could not do. 
 
 In spite of their vow of poverty, these Knights of the 
 Temple became, in the course of time, immensely 
 rich, and when it was no longer the fashion to go on 
 crusades, they grew luxurious and idle, as people are 
 apt to do who have no steady occupation, and led very 
 different lives from the pure ones they set out to lead. 
 Many dreadful stories were told about them, which 
 grew worse as they passed from mouth to mouth ; and 
 as they had done nothing to make the people of their 
 own time love them, there was no one"" to speak a word 
 in their favor when Philip resolved on their ruin. 
 
 He began by inviting the Grand Master of the 
 Templars, Jacques de Molay, to come to France on busi- 
 ness, pretending that he wanted to consult him 
 about the plan of a new crusade, all the while meaning 
 probably, to put him to a cruel death when the right 
 time should come. Suddenly, by a well-arranged 
 plan, every Templar in France was arrested and 
 thrown into prison on the same day, and Philip at 
 
PHILIP THE FAIR AND HIS SONS. 97 
 
 once took possession of the Temple and its hoards of 
 wealth. 
 
 So far all had succeeded, but it was still necessary 
 to go through some form which should excuse such 
 an action to the world, and a regular system of torture 
 was applied to the unfortunate prisoners, under the 
 agonies of which some of the poor wretches confessed 
 impossible crimes, too loathsome to be repeated, and 
 which they denied afterward when relieved from the 
 torture. It made no difference what they confessed or 
 denied ; judgment was pronounced against them, and 
 on one day fifty-four of them were burnt at the stake. 
 After years of persecution, the Pope finally ordered 
 that the whole society of the Templars should be abol- 
 ished and their possessions distributed in various ways, 
 the King of France of course getting a large share. 
 
 The Grand Master and two of the higher officers of 
 the Order were still captives, and having under hor- 
 rible tortures confessed what was charged against 
 them, they were condemned to perpetual imprisonment. 
 When the sentence was read to them their courao-e 
 came back ; they denied everything, and said it was 
 only their cruel sufferings that had made them say 
 what was not true ; and without waiting for another 
 trial, Philip had them privately burned at night. 
 There was a tradition, long believed in France, that 
 when the Grand Master was tied to the stake and the 
 flames were making their way over his body and play- 
 ing about his gray hair, he summoned the Pope and 
 the King to meet him before the judgment seat of God, 
 the one within forty days and the other within a year ; 
 but this was probably a prophecy made after the event, 
 7 
 
98 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 and suggested by the fact that both Pope and King 
 died within the periods stated. 
 
 Philip the Fair left three sons, Louis X., the Quar- 
 reler, Phih'p v., the Long, and Charles lY., the Fair, 
 all of whom became, in* succession, kings of France ; 
 liis daughter, Isabella, married Edward II. of England. 
 By a singular fatality none of his sons left any male 
 children; and as an old law in France, called the Sa- 
 lique law, forbade a woman to ascend the throne, the 
 crown which had descended from father to son ever 
 since the time of Hugh Capet, passed to Philip of 
 Valois, a nephew of Philip the Fair. 
 
 Little is known of the state of France during the 
 reigns of the three Brother-Kings, except that there was 
 great distress among the people. The barons were 
 occupied in regaining the power which had been taken 
 from them under the severe reign of Philip the Fourth, 
 and the common people, trampled on by all, had no 
 St. Louis to protect them. The miserable people 
 called Lepers were accused of poisoning the wells, — 
 a thing they could have had no possible object in doing, 
 — and were burned alive by hundreds. Then the pop- 
 ular fury broke out against the Jews, who w^ere said 
 to have conspired with the lepers, and they were often 
 condemned without even the mockery of a trial. At 
 one place a pit was dug in the ground, a great fire was 
 lighted in the bottom of it, and a hundred and sixty 
 Jews, men and women together, were pitched in alive 
 and burned to death. Some of them were so much 
 excited by the horrible festival that they jumped in 
 of their own accord, " singing like wedding-guests," 
 the chronicler says. These were the poor; the richer 
 
PRILIP OF V ALOIS. JOHN THE GOOD. 99 
 
 ones were kept in prison until the King could get pos- 
 session of their property, after which they were in 
 many cases banished from the kingdom. 
 
 But it is time to turn from these sickening scenes to 
 the royal but unlucky family of Valois. 
 
 CSAPTEB XII, 
 
 PHILIP OF VALOIS. JOHN THE GOOD 1328-1364. 
 
 HILIP the Sixth was a King that suited the 
 great nobles exactly. In the reign of Philip 
 \ the Fair they had been kept in subjection, 
 and during the short lives of his sons they had been 
 gradually getting their own way more and more, but 
 here was some one who began his reign in a truly 
 kingl}'- fashion, according to their notion. Nothing 
 was heard of but feasting, tournaments, shows and 
 revels of all kinds. Plenty of money, plenty of fine 
 clothes, new furniture and equipments, crowds of ser- 
 vants and officers, lavish hospitality — all these things 
 made the court of France the must attractive place in 
 Europe. 
 
 It was not his own nobles alone that King Philip 
 mvited to these entertainments. We are told that 
 several Kings preferred Paris to their own dull capitals, 
 and stayed there altogether, each with a brilliant com- 
 pany of knights and ladies who were all kept sumptu- 
 ously at Philip's expense. Or was it at his expense? 
 
100 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 The toiling peasants of France and the industrious 
 middle class could have told a different story. One 
 proof of the King's boundless generosity to his nobles 
 is that he excused them from paying the debts due 
 by them to these people! 
 
 Early in this reign began the great struggle between 
 Eno-land and France which is known as the Hundred 
 Years' War. Edward the Third of England, who was 
 son of Philip's cousin Isabella, daughter of Philip the 
 Fair, pretended that this relationship gave him a claim 
 to the crown of France. He was too clear-headed a 
 man not to know that his claim was utterly groundless, 
 for there was a o-randson of Louis the Tenth who had 
 a much better right; but a small excuse serves in such 
 cases, and Edward dispatched a fleet of ships to Flan- 
 ders, on the northeastern coast of France, where a 
 battle was fought near Sluys, which almost destroyed 
 Philip's navy. ^ 
 
 This defeat was so entirely unexpected that no one 
 dared to tell Philip of it until the court fool contrived 
 to bring it in by way of a joke. " What cowards those 
 English are!" he exclaimed. "Why so?" inquired 
 the King. " Because they did'nt dare to jump into 
 the sea as oar brave fellows have done !" One sees 
 by this that the wit of a court-jester was not required 
 to be of a very high order. 
 
 There was some rather unsatisfactory skirmishing on 
 land after this, but nothing o1" importance was done 
 until a war in Brittany between two rival counts gave , 
 Edward a chance to strike another blow. He and J 
 Philip took opposite sides as a matter of course, the 
 latter defending the party of the Count of Elois, and 
 
 ' ' I 
 
 : •._.......... .......: J 
 
PHILIP OF VALOIS. JOHN THE GOOD. 101 
 
 Edward helping the heroic Countess of Montfort, 
 whose huslDand was a prisoner in Philip's hands. 
 
 This countess had, as old Froissart tells us, "the cour- 
 age of a man and the heart of a lion." Beinoc driven 
 from place to place by the King's troops, she finally 
 took refuge in Hennebon, a town on the coast, and 
 there defended herself bravely with such an army as 
 she had been able to get together. She wrote to 
 Edward that she would hold out until help came 
 from him, and she kept her word, in spite of 
 great discontent among her own soldiers, who thought 
 she was throwing away their lives in the long siege. 
 At last the welcome relief came ; a fleet of English 
 vessels commanded by the brave Sir Walter Manny, 
 who had already done good service at Sluys, sailed 
 into the harbor, and the besiegers moved off. Frois- 
 sart says: "He who then saw the Countess come 
 down from the castle in great gladness and kiss Sir 
 Walter and the lords that were with him, one after 
 another, two or three times, may well say she was a 
 noble and valiant dame." 
 
 The year 1346 saw the first of those great English 
 victories in France which the national pride loves so 
 dearly to dwell on — the battle of Crecy. You have 
 read in English history how the Black Prince, then 
 only sixteen years old, sent to his father for help, being 
 hard pressed; how the King asked if he was wounded 
 or struck down, and being told that he was not, ans- 
 wered, " Let the boy win his spurs! " and refused to help 
 him at all ; how the old blind King of Bohemia, whose 
 son had prudently run away from the battle, begged 
 two knights to lead his horse forward into the enemy's 
 
102 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 ranks where he could give one spear-thrust; how they 
 tied their horses to his, one on each side, rushed for- 
 ward into the battle, and were found all three dead 
 together; how the Black Prince adopted the motto 
 " Ich dien " (I serve), of the blind King, and the three 
 ostrich feathers that his armor was marked with, as his 
 own — all this you know by heart. 
 
 All day long the battle lasted. The French knights 
 fought fiercely, but the English archers made dreadful 
 havoc with their horses, and when a warrior was un- 
 horsed, his heavy armor would not let him rise again; 
 then Edward's Welsh soldiers rushed upon the French 
 with their long knives, which they drove through the 
 joints of the armor, slaughtering them like cattle. 
 Philip, whose best quality seems to have been per- 
 sonal courage, could not be persuaded to quit the field. 
 At last one of his knisrhts seized the bridle of his 
 horse and led him away without asking leave. Only 
 five knights of the vast host that had started out that 
 morning flushed with pride and hope, remained with 
 the Kins: in his dismal flio-ht. The rest were scattered 
 hither and thither, flying for their lives, and telling 
 the sad tale as they passed along, seeking only a 
 place where they could fling themselves down in safety. 
 The heavy-hearted Philip rode through the darkness 
 to the nearest castle, where he found the drawbridge 
 up and the gates shut for the night. "Who knocks 
 at such an hour?" shouted the warden in answer to 
 the King's summons. "Open, Castellan," answered 
 Philip; "itis the fortune of France." The English 
 found on counting the dead that they had killed two 
 kings, eleven princes, twelve hundred knights, and 
 
PHILIP OF VALOIS. JOHN THE GOOD.' 108 
 
 thirty thousand common soldiers, a number almost 
 equal to the whole force of the English. 
 
 It has been said that cannon were first used at the 
 battle of Crecy, but if so, they did little good or harm, 
 being about as much like the destructive engines 
 which mow down thousands in> a modern battle as a 
 wheelbarrow is like a locomotive. They were exceed- 
 ingly clumsy and difficult to handle, and so slightly 
 made that they often burst in firing, killing those who 
 stood by them instead of the enemy. Even when they 
 went off successfullv, the round stones which served 
 instead of metal balls were buried in the earth -or 
 rolled harmlessly away in the wrong direction. They 
 did more good in sieges, where they began to be used 
 about the same time. 
 
 It seems as if the reign of Philip of Yalois consisted 
 mostly in the doings of Edward the Third, for no sooner 
 have we done with Edward at Crecy than we must 
 follow him to Calais, which he besieged for nearly a 
 year. Its fortifications were so strong that he did not 
 try to take them by storm, but preferred to starve out 
 the garrison, his ships in the meantime preventing any 
 food from reaching them by sea. Philip came in sight 
 of them with his army more than once, causing wild 
 joy among the famishing citizens, who hoped that their 
 King would force his way through the English army 
 and bring them relief. But no; Philip thought the 
 English looked too strong for him, and, without stri- 
 king a blow, abandoned the city to its fate. 
 
 At last the hour came when everv rat and dead dojr 
 had been eaten, when hardly even the bones of a horse 
 were left, and when every old boot and shoe had long 
 
104 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 since been chewed up for food; and the brave people 
 of Calais were forced to surrender. The story of the 
 six men who gave themselves up as hostages for the 
 rest, coming with halters round their necks before the 
 indignant King, and being saved from death only by 
 the intercession of Queen Philippa, belongs properly 
 to English history. It will always be a pleasant thing 
 to think of; a bright spot in the midst of a dark and 
 dreary picture. 
 
 While Philip the Sixth was wasting his time in get- 
 ting together armies which he did not ase, his subjects 
 were grroanina- under taxes that m ide them reoret even 
 the days of Philip the Fair: The one on salt, which 
 afterwards came to be distino-aished from all others 
 by being called the Gabelle, was cruelly hard on the 
 poor ; bat even this would have been borne without 
 open murmurs if it had not been for one of the most 
 shameful impositions a King can practise — the debasing 
 of the coin. Philip did this until his people nearly went 
 mad with distress, the value of money changing so 
 continually that no one could ever be certain of its 
 value. It all seemed to be a matter of chance. As a 
 natural consequence business came almost to a stand- 
 still, and, as is said, grass grew in the streets of Paris, 
 In the country it was still worse; wherever the Eng- 
 lish army had passed, the land looked as if it had been 
 eaten off by grasshoppers. The Italian poet Petrarch, 
 who visited France about this time, has left a moving 
 picture of the desolation that met his eye everywhere. 
 
 The year after the taking of Calais a terrible pesti- 
 lence called the Black Death broke out in many parts 
 of Europe and spread through France;— poor France, 
 
PHILIP OF VALOIS. JOHN THE GOOD. 105 
 
 already dragged down to almost the lowest depth of 
 misery, her fair fields trampled over by the English, 
 her King a heartless tyrant, many of her best and 
 bravest sons already sacrificed on the battle-field, — in 
 the midst of all this came the plague, which had at 
 least one good effect; it put a stop to war while it 
 lasted. But alas! the old outcry was raised; it was 
 owing to the Jews, who had poisoned the waters! And 
 without more inquiry, thousands of these poor wretches, 
 who seem to be the first mark aimed at in every season 
 of distress, were cast into the flames. 
 
 Some people took a way of their own of putting a 
 stop to the pestilence, which, they had no doubt, was 
 God's judgment on a guilty nation. They thought 
 they might please him by tormenting themselves, and 
 great numbers of them wandered about the country 
 half-naked, armed with whips of which the lashes were 
 tipped with steel, and scourging their bare shoulders 
 till the blood ran down in streams. These were called 
 FlageUants^ and were after a while put down by the 
 strong hand, the Pope disapproving of their excesses. 
 But all this did not stop the pestilence, which included 
 high as well as low among its victims. 
 
 When the disease had somewhat spent its strength 
 and people were beginning to think about the business 
 of life again, Philip, whose wife had died of the plague, 
 married a second time, of course burdening his people 
 with new taxes to pay for the wedding festivities ; but 
 almost before these were well over, he died. It would 
 be pleasant if we could imagine him with his last 
 breath advising his son to make himself beloved by his 
 subjects, to lighten their taxes, to rule with justice and 
 
106 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 mercy ; but the only instructions recorded, are those 
 urging hi in to make good his claim to the throne 
 against all opposition. 
 
 The title of " John the Good " by which this son was 
 called was a singularly inappropriate one, unless we 
 remember that it meant nothing more than what is 
 expressed by the term " a good fellow " — which in this 
 case meant a thoughtless, extravagant person, popuiar 
 with gay companions, ready to spend other people's 
 money, and sure never to let their rights stand for a 
 moment in the way of his own selfish pleasure. His 
 first idea on finding himself a king was to make a jour- 
 ney through his country and set everything straight. 
 He knew that things were going very badly, but wasn't 
 he a king, and wouldn't the very sight of him be good 
 for the straining eyes, blinded with tears and looking 
 anxiously for some sign of better things to come? So 
 he went about holding tournaments (which the people 
 had to pay for), and created a new order of knight- 
 hood — the Order of the Star — in imitation of Edward 
 the Third's famous Order of the Garter. 
 
 But this did not put bread into his people's mouths, 
 or help them to pay their taxes, though it made the king 
 very happy. He had read too many foolish romances 
 in his youth, and his head was full of nonsense ; so 
 as long as he could have his Feasts of the Peacock, 
 and be surrounded by a gay crowd of ladies and gen- 
 tlemen who flattered and admired him, he felt that he 
 was fully as great a man as Charlemagne. 
 
 All this time, Edward of England and his son, the 
 Black Prince, were roaming about in France, doing all 
 the harm they could, taking towns everywhere, and 
 
PHILIP OF V ALOIS. JOHN THE GOOD. 107 
 
 making themselves masters of large districts of coun- 
 try. King John began to be very tired of this kind 
 of work, and thought it was high time to give the Eng- 
 lish a lesson. He marched southward until he met the 
 Black Prince near Poitiers, (the old battle-field of Clo- 
 vis and Charles Martel), with a very little army, 
 scarcely one-tenth the size of his own. But the Prince 
 had chosen his ground just where it would place the 
 enemy at the greatest disadvantage for attacking him; 
 the French fell into confusion, and before the end of 
 the day they were flying in all directions. 
 
 John's three older sons, with eight hundred knights 
 who had not drawn sword that day, ran away like the 
 rest, — by the king's order, it was said, but probably 
 if they had been very brave they would have diso- 
 beyed their father just for once, — while the fourteen- 
 year-old Philip, his youngest son, stayed with his 
 father to the end, crying out, "Father, look to the 
 left ! Father, look to the right ! " while the enemies 
 were pressing him on every side. At last both were 
 taken captive and sent to England, where they were 
 very kindly treated. 
 
 It is at this time that the name Dauphin first appears 
 in French history. In the last year of Philip the 
 Sixth's reign, the prince of Dauphiny, a country 
 bordering on Burgundy, grew so tired of life that he 
 wanted to turn monk and forget all about the world 
 and its troubles. Having no son, he offered his coun- 
 try to PhilijD's grandson on condition that it should 
 never be annexed to France, but should remain inde- 
 pendent. Philip accepted the gift, and to fulfill the 
 letter of the agreement, it was arranged that as soon 
 
108 HISTOBY OF FRANCE, 
 
 as a prince became King of France he should cease to 
 be Dauphin, some other person taking that title. If 
 Dauphiny could never belong to the King of France, 
 it could always belong to his eldest son. 
 
 The Dauphin Charles, who took matters into his own 
 hands after the battle of Poitiers, was a youth of nine- 
 teen, insignificant in appearance and weak in health. 
 He assembled the States General, and they, beginning 
 slowly to take in the idea that the people had rights, 
 firmly refused to grant the mone}'- demanded for 
 the king's ransom until certain abuses were remedied. 
 No more tampering with the coin, said they ; no more 
 seizing of private property for the royal service with- 
 out paying for it; no more taking of the public money 
 by the Dauphin for his own use. Charles agreed to 
 every thing; it was all quite reasonable, he said; so he 
 sent a courier with a copy of the agreement for his 
 father to sign. But at the same time he dispatched a 
 private letter telling the king to refuse, which John 
 did accordingly. When the people at home under- 
 stood the game that had been played, they rose against 
 the Dauphin and made him again promise all that they 
 demanded, o-oino- so far as to murder two of his coun- 
 sellors before his face. " Save me, save me !" he cried 
 out to the leader of the insurgents when this horrid 
 deed was done, and if this man had not instantly taken 
 his own red cap, the sign of revolution, oif his head 
 and clapped it on the Dauphin's, Charles might never 
 have lived to be called the Wise. 
 
 While these things were going on in Paris, the con- 
 dition of the peasants became so intolerable that they 
 broke out into a fearful insurrection called the Jacquerie. 
 
PHILIP OF V ALOIS. JOHN THE GOOD. 109 
 
 Their only idea was that the rich had injured them, and 
 it was on the rich they must be revenged. They seized 
 k)r(-ls and ladies and their children wherever they could 
 find thera, murdered them brutally or tortured them to 
 let them know how it felt, set fire to their castles, and 
 fairly reveled in blood and pillage. 
 
 To understand their feelings, one needs only to read 
 a little of the history of those times. In the language 
 of a French writer, "there was but one victim on 
 whom the ills of war fell, and that was the peasant. 
 Before the war he had been exhausted to pay for all 
 those fine arms and those rich banners that had let 
 themselves be taken at Crecy and Poitiers. And 
 after the war, who paid the ransom ? The peasant again. 
 The noble prisoners, released on parole, returned to their 
 lands to scrape together, in haste, the monstrous sums 
 they had promised without higgling on the field of bat- 
 tle. The peasant's property took no long time to count ; 
 lean cattle, rotting harness, a plough, a cart and a few 
 old farming implements. He had no furniture, nor 
 anything laid by except a little seed. This being seized 
 and sold, what remained to be taken ? His body ; the 
 poor fellow's skin. Something perhaps might still be 
 got out of him; perhaps he had some hiding-place where 
 he kept his money, so they scorched his feet. Neither 
 fire nor iron was spared." 
 
 Who can wonder at his cruelty when his enemies 
 were helpless before him in their turn? It was not so 
 much the hope of gain as a wild desire for revenge 
 that took possession of these poor wretches. It was a 
 satisfaction to think that they could " take it out " of 
 the nobles in some way. But their triumph did not 
 
110 HISTOBY OF FBAXCE. 
 
 last lono*. AYhen the enraged nobiiitv waked up from 
 the shock enough to know what was going- on, they 
 banded together and hunted down the peasants like 
 wild boasts; and after a feAV weeks a death-like silence 
 reigned again in the homes of the poor. 
 
 About this time news came that thekino^ of France, 
 weary of English hospitality, had signed a disgraceful 
 treaty by which he agreed to give up half his king- 
 dom to Edward; but the dauphin, who had more spirit 
 than his father, and, besides, was not in prison, refused 
 to be bound by this agreement, and King John had to 
 go back again. At length such terms were proposed 
 as both sides could agree to, and he was finally released, 
 leaving his second son as a hostage. " The king of 
 England was a hard nut to crack," says plain old Frois- 
 sart. 
 
 All the time of King John's stay in EngLind there 
 had been a wax taper burning in Paris as a sort of per- 
 petual prayer for his safety. It was said to be six miles 
 long, and was kept on a roller and unwound as fast as 
 it burnt out. The Kino- and his sons had a merry meet- 
 ing at Calais, where he "received them sweetly and 
 handsomely, for well he knew how." It was a pity that 
 he didn't know anything else but how to behave with 
 the outward appearance of a gentleman. At first he 
 and his son made some reforms, and seemed as if they 
 meant to try to govern better ; but the king soon fell 
 into his old way of going about the country feasting and 
 holding tournaments, thinking that if he only spent 
 money enough it would all come right somehow or 
 other. In the mean time the money was not collected 
 for his ransom ; and when he heard that his son Louis, 
 
CHARLES TEE WISE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ^Yhom he had left on parole, had broken his word and 
 escaped, he went back himself, saying that " good faith, 
 if it were banished from the rest of the world, ought to 
 be found ini the heart of kings." So he returned to 
 England, where he was received with bonfires and bell- 
 ringing, lodged in a splendid palace, and supplied with 
 the means of enjoying himself in his favorite way. He 
 lived only a few months after his return, and his royal 
 jailer gave him a splendid funeral at St. PauFs. 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 CHARLES THE WISE. 1364-1380. 
 
 OBODY expected much from the dauphin. 
 His long, pale face and thin figure were not 
 l!'^^*-^] very promising, and his health, never good, was 
 almost ruined by a dose of poison administered by his 
 dear cousin, Charles the Bad, in revenge for his own 
 imprisonment. But though he spent most of his time 
 sitting at a study-table, he knew how to direct the 
 movements of armies, and, still better, how to select 
 able men to command them. Edward the Third said 
 of him, that he was the one of all his enemies whom 
 he never saw, and yet who gave him the most trouble. 
 Charles soon found enouMi to do. There was a war 
 raging in Spain between Pedro the Cruel and his 
 brother Henry, and the latter having asked Charles for 
 help, our wise king thought it would be a good thing 
 to occupy the idle soldiers called "Free Lances" in 
 
112 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 something besides plundering their own countrymen. 
 These men had served in both the English and French 
 armies, and, having been disbanded, formed themselves 
 into " Free Companies," which meant free to do as they 
 pleased and live on other people's earnings. They 
 besieged towns, castles and churches, obliging their 
 defenders to pay a heavy ransom to get rid of these 
 unwelcome visitors, and quartered themselves upon 
 the farmers without ceremony. Charles's great gen- 
 eral, Du Guesclin, undertook to get an army from 
 among these troublesome spirits, and fight Prince 
 Henry's battles for him. Pedro the Cruel naturally 
 looked to Edward the Black Prince as his friend be- 
 cause they were both enemies of the French, and being 
 driven out of Spain, took refuge at Bordeaux, where 
 Edward had a regular court and was a king in his way, 
 just as much as Charles was at Paris. 
 
 As the years went on, the Black Prince gradually 
 lost ground in France. His health failed, the people 
 whom he had conquered rebelled against the enormous 
 taxes levied on them to support his war with Spain, 
 and at last he went home to die. 
 
 Du Guesclin in the meantime had been going on 
 steadily in the work of re-conquering France. The 
 last place he besieged was very stubborn in its resist- 
 ance, and kept him a long time waiting at its gates. 
 At last the governor promised that he would surrender 
 if help did not come from England before a certain 
 day. The day came, the promised relief did not; but 
 news was brought to the governor that Du Guesclin 
 had died of a fever. True to his word, the command- 
 er of the fortress, having sworn to surrender to none 
 
CHARLES THE WISE. 113 
 
 but the Constable, hauled down his flag, and marching 
 out at the head of his men, laid the keys of the castle 
 in silence on the dead man's breast. 
 
 For some time after his death there was no one will- 
 ing to take the office of Constable, but at last the king 
 bestowed it on Oliver De Clisson, who received the 
 nickname of " The Butcher." On one occasion, when 
 a garrison had irritated him by an unusually long re- 
 sistance, and were at last compelled by starvation to 
 surrender, he stood at the gate as the famishing 
 wretches- tottered out, worn to the bone by hunger 
 and misery, and dashed out the brains of each in suc- 
 cession with a heavy battle-axe. When he had dis- 
 posed of fifteen of them in this way, he threw down 
 the axe with a sigh of relief, and left the rest for some 
 one else to finish off. We must admit that he justified 
 his name. 
 
 Charles the AVise lived only two months after the 
 death of the brave Du Guesclin. The people of France, 
 who despised him at first for his weakness, had found 
 out how much better it was to have a wise king who 
 could sit at home and let his generals do the fighting, 
 than a foolish one who led his armies to defeat by his 
 rashness. Here was a king who had neither debased 
 the coin nor increased the taxes; who had driven the 
 English almost entirely out of his country, and had 
 added several provinces to it by his wisdom; who paid 
 his soldiers their wages regularly, and kept up a wise 
 economy in his own expenses. No more feasting now 
 at the palace, no more tournaments; and yet, when 
 the occasion called for it, Charles could entertain for- 
 eign embassadors at his court with a splendor greater 
 8 
 
114 IIISTOEY OF FBANCE. 
 
 than had ever been seen before. As there Avere no 
 grasping favorites to be pensioned out of the people's 
 money, the king grew rich and the people felt none 
 the poorer. 
 
 It was said of Edward the Third of England, that 
 his victories made his people "very proud and very 
 poor." It might have been said of Philip of Valois 
 and his son John that their wars left their people very 
 poor and not very proud; but regarding Charles the 
 Fifth we can truly say that while the}^ had reason to be 
 proud, they did not at the same time feel that their 
 pride had been fed at the expense of their prosperity. 
 
 Though tlie people of France had been growing 
 more refined ever since the time of Charlemagne, there 
 was still room for improvement, as you will think 
 wdien 3'ou read some of the directions given by a noble- 
 man to his daup'hters forthe reaailation of their con- 
 duct. They must not laugh loudly at the table, nor 
 get their fingers daubed with their food; they must 
 keep themselves clean and their nails cut short, and 
 when they walk in the streets they are not to stop and 
 look in at the windows of dwelling houses. Lastly, he 
 recommends them to refrain from stealing and telling 
 lies, which we hope they did after reading his fatherly 
 advice. 
 
 As we have often spoken of tournaments, some words 
 of explanation in regard to chivalry, the institution in 
 which they originated, will not be out of place. Chiv- 
 alry began in very dark times when might made right 
 and the weak were oppressed by the strong, and was 
 at first only an association of the best and bravest men 
 to correct this cruel state of thino-s. It was a beauti- 
 
CHARLES THE WISE. 115 
 
 fill idea, and when fully carried out, must have come 
 as near to the standard of perfect manhood as is possi- 
 ble in this world. 
 
 At seven years old, the boy designed for knighthood 
 must leave his home and be sent to the castle of some 
 knight renowned for bravery, which was not hard to 
 find, for in those days all knights were called brave and 
 all ladies fair. Here he passed the years from seven 
 to fourteen, during which time he was called a page, 
 and pursued the studies which would fit him to do honor 
 to the knightly profession. Not reading, writing and 
 arithmetic — oh, no ! Many great men had to make 
 a prick in the paper with sword or dagger if it were 
 necessary to sign a deed, and reading was thought fit 
 only for monks. But the page must learn to take care 
 of horses and armor, manage his lady's falcon, follow 
 the dogs to the chase, and practice the two great vir- 
 tues of truthfulness and obedience. 
 
 At fourteen the page becomes a squire. His ardor 
 has long been fired at the recital of noble deeds, of 
 which he has heard during the winter evenings w^hen 
 the family are gathered in the great hall, at one end of 
 which is a blazins: fire, showino* the suits of armor and 
 trophies of the chase,which hang upon the wall. Often 
 the wandering troubadour or minstrel claims a place 
 by the fireside, and when he has been warmed and fed, 
 sings a song of warlike deeds which makes the young 
 squire burn with impatience to enter on his career. 
 The boy's education now becomes stricter. He must 
 begin the labors and the self-denial which are to fit 
 him to play his part in the world. When he is old 
 enough he follows his lord to battle, and is bitterly 
 
116 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 disappointed if no opportunity occurs of distinguish- 
 ing himself, and earning the gilded spurs which are to 
 replace his iron ones. At the age of twenty-one he 
 is admitted into the full companionship of knighthood, 
 unless it has been his good fortune to earn the priv- 
 ilege sooner. 
 
 As knio-hts could not be fio-htinQ^ all the time, and 
 from their restless, warlike life were apt to find the 
 intervals of peace rather dull, they had mock fights, 
 called tournaments. A great space was railed in, 
 called the lists; outside of this were raised galleries 
 crowded with spectators, numbers of splendidly dressed 
 ladies adding brilliancy to the scene. At the sound 
 of the trumpets, the knights, on horseback, started 
 from opposite ends of the lists, and rode at full speed 
 towards one another, each trying to unseat his oppo- 
 nent by striking him with the end of his lance, which 
 had been blunted for the occasion. Sometimes this 
 riding back and forth would go on for hours, no one 
 doing damage enough to bring the sport to an end — 
 the ladies meanwhile cheerino; their favorites and send- 
 ing them scarfs, ribbons and gloves, which the knights 
 fastened on over their armor, feeling very proud of the 
 compliment. Finally, the one who was decided to 
 have done the best came and knelt down at the feet 
 of the most beautiful lady, to receive the prize award- 
 ed to the victor, amidst shouting and rejoicing from 
 the vast crowd, and congratulations of friends. This 
 sport was too exciting not to be very agreeable to such 
 restless mortals as the warriors of the middle acres, and 
 tournaments continued in fashion long after the inven- 
 tion of gunpowder had closed the era of knighthood. 
 
CHARLES TEE WISE. 117 
 
 And now we must pass on to the sad story of the 
 son and successor of Charles the Wise. Poor little 
 Charles the Sixth ! Left an orphan at twelve years 
 old, handsome, light-hearted and rather empty-headed, 
 the responsibilities of his kingdom weighed but little 
 upon him, while his uncles encouraged him in all kinds 
 of foolish amusements that would take his mind off 
 from public affairs, and leave everything in their 
 hands. 
 
 There was not one of them who had anything like 
 an unselfish desire for the good of the country, or the 
 welfare of the kinjr. What each one wanted was to 
 get the largest share of riches and power for himself, 
 and, being responsible to no one, their avarice brought 
 untold miseries upon the people of France. 
 
 The oppression became so intolerable that in several 
 places the populace rose against these hard masters, and 
 demanded a removal of the outrao-eous taxes which 
 were making the royal dukes rich at their expense. 
 The dukes promised everything that was asked; and 
 then, as soon as the rioters had been pacified by fair 
 words, all engagements with them were broken, and 
 the most terrible veno-eance taken for the rebellion. 
 Public executions followed each other until the spec- 
 tators began to protest against any more repetitions 
 of the wretched spectacle, after which the victims 
 jvere sewed up in sacks, and thrown by night into the 
 Seine. 
 
 At this time the people of Flanders, headed by a 
 patriot named Van Artevelde, were in rebellion against 
 their count, and the King's uncle, the Duko of Bur- 
 gundy, taking up the quarrel, used the army of France 
 
118 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 to inarch against them. He took the young king with 
 him, and, after a terrible battle at Rosbecque, in which 
 the Flemings were defeated and Van Artevelde killed, 
 Charles was taken to the battle-field to gaze upon the 
 hideous spectacle of a uiass of dead and and dying men, 
 and told that it was he who had won the victory. This 
 may have been the first of those fearful impressions 
 upon his mind which colored his whole life and after- 
 wards deepened into madness. Indeed, he gave a 
 proof before long of the unsettling effect of excite- 
 ment on a young and unbalanced mind. In going- 
 through the town of Courtrai, where the French had 
 been beaten in the time of Philip the Fair, somebody 
 unluckily reminded him of the gilt spurs picked 
 up after the battle and hung in the great church. 
 This boy of fourteen instantly ordered that the town 
 should be sacked and burned. 
 
 If you can picture to yourself what these words 
 mean — if you can imagine a brutal mob of soldiers 
 rushing through the streets of a city howling like 
 demons, setting fire to the houses, dashing out the 
 brains of little children, treating women with every 
 kind of outrage, stealing everything that can be carried 
 off and destroying the rest, and only leaving the town 
 when it is a heap of smoking ruins, from which tremb- 
 lino' wretches are flying in every direction — then you 
 will have an idea of what Charles the Sixth com- 
 manded should be the fate of this large cit}^, on account 
 of some trophies of a battle fought nearly a hundred 
 years before. 
 
 When the royal party returned to Paris, flushed 
 with victory, the old work of punishment went on 
 
CHARLES THE WISE. 119 
 
 ao-ain. There was more cuttino* off of heads and sew- 
 ing up in sacks; some of the most distinguished men 
 in the kino-dom, who had tried their best to restrain 
 the people, were sacrificed; the taxes were laid on 
 more heavily than ever, and the people, were obliged 
 to pay an enormous fine to the king as the price of 
 being let alone. 
 
 To show his utter contempt for the city, Charles had 
 the gates, which had at one time been shut against 
 him, taken oft' their hinges and laid flat in the streets 
 so that the whole procession should pass over them, 
 this being understood as a symbol of the king's tramp- 
 ling upon the pride of the Parisians. He also formally 
 took away their privilege of stretching chains across 
 the streets to keep out unwelcome visitors, which 
 they had always looked upon as one of their few 
 " rights." A wild plan for invading England, with 
 preparations so enormous that they are only equalled 
 in modern history by the Spanish Armada, resulted in 
 a failure so ridiculous to all but the wretched people 
 who had to bear the expense of it (and who were, of 
 course, the poor), that but for this sad feature we 
 might laugh at it as a very ill-played comedy. This, 
 and the vouno; kind's ill-fated marriao-e to Isabella of 
 Bavaria, are the principal events in that dark history 
 until Charles, being twenty-one years old, took the 
 government into his own hands, and tried, by surround- 
 ing himself with the wisest counsellors he could find, 
 to fulfill in some sort the duties of a king. 
 
120 HISTOEY OF FJRANCE. 
 
 C JET AFTER XIV. 
 
 CHAKLES THE WELL-BELOVED. 1380-1432. 
 
 ^ELDO^r in human history has a darker page 
 been turned than that which records the woes 
 of unhappy France during the fifty years that 
 followed the death of Charles the Wise. A French 
 writer, who lived two hundred years later, calls the 
 reio-n of Charles the Sixth " the p-rave of a:ood law and 
 good morals." The great had grown so wicked as to 
 be without shame, and the low liad no restraint but 
 fear. Robbery was the order of the day; from the 
 noble with his cruel taxes to the highway inan who made 
 pillage a trade, there was no other law than the law of 
 the strongest. Poor Charles, with his kindly, pleasure- 
 loving nature and wretched education, was not the 
 man to bring order out of this chaos, though he made 
 some praiseworthy efforts. 
 
 The brave De Clisson having been brutally attacked 
 in the street and left for dead, by a cowardly enemy 
 who did not dare to meet him openly, the king set out 
 to pursue the would-be murderer into Brittany, where 
 he had taken refuge. On the way Charles was detained 
 for some time by illness, and when still too weak to 
 travel, persisted in renewing his journey. 
 
 It was a sultry day in August. His way lay through 
 what was called a forest, but its scant foliage gave him 
 little protection from the scorching sun. From some 
 strange whim he wore a heavy black velvet jacket, and 
 a thick scarlet cap on his head. In order not to incom- 
 
CHARLES THE WELL-BELOVED. 121 
 
 mode him with tho dust, his uncles and the other lords 
 rode at some little distance, no one being near him but 
 two pages. Saddenly a tall, wild-looking man, with 
 nothing on l^ut a white shirt, sprang out upon him and 
 seized his bridle, shouting, " Go no farther, King ! 
 you are betrayed !" The men-at-arms hurried for- 
 ward, and striking the man's hands with the butts of 
 their lances, made him let go the bridle. As he seemed 
 only a poor maniac, they did not drive him away, but 
 let him follow the king for nearly half an hour, repeat- 
 ing the same wild cry. 
 
 After passino: throu2:h the forest thev came to a 
 sandy plain, where the rays of the sun beat down di- 
 rectly upon their heads. One of the pages who was 
 riding with the king became drowsy from the dreadful 
 heat, and being nearly asleep, let his lance fall against 
 the steel helmet borne by his companion. The crash 
 startled the king, who seemed to think that the mad- 
 man's warning had been fulfilled, and began to strike 
 furiously about him, wounding, and, as some reports 
 say, killing several men before they could get out of 
 his way. Ho rode about like a madman, striking 
 blindly at whatever he saw; and it was not until his 
 fury had somewhat spent itself and his strength began 
 to fail, that one of his officers ventured to go up be- 
 hind him and throw his arms around his body. He 
 was lifted from his horse and laid gentl}^ on the ground; 
 his eyes rolled about wildly, and he recognized no one. 
 " We must go back," said his uncles; " here is an end 
 of the trip to Brittany." On their way they met an 
 ox-cart with some hay in it; they bound the king's 
 arms, fearing that the frenzy might come on again, 
 
122 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 then laid liim in the cart, and the procession took its 
 way to the town of Le Mans. 
 
 I think there are few sadder pictures in history than 
 that of this young man of twenty-four, whom his father 
 had left a happy, healthy boy only twelve years before, 
 stricken down in the bloom of his youth with a mad- 
 ness for which there was to be no cure, surrounded by 
 false friends, and without one true heart to turn to in 
 his distress. The prudent and conscientious men with 
 whom he had surrounded himself were instantlj^ ban- 
 ished or put in prison, and the populace flocked daily 
 to the Place de Grhve (place of public executions), 
 hoping to see them hanged. De Olisson was forced to 
 pay an immense fine, under pretence of his having 
 been dishonest in office, and was deprived of his office 
 of constable, and sent into Biittany. 
 
 After a time the king recovered from this attack of 
 insanity, but his mind was more feeble than before, 
 and he could do little more than submit to whatever 
 his uncles chose to do. The year after the dreadful 
 iournev the kino- felt enouo-h better to desire to take 
 part once more in one of the entertainments he had 
 once been so fond of. One of the courtiers thought he 
 would get up something more wild and extravagant 
 than usual, and invented a kind of masked ball, at 
 which the kino- and five of his knio-hts were to dis- 
 guise themselves as satyrs. They were dressed in 
 tight-fitting suits of coarse linen, which were first 
 smeared with pitch and then covered all over with tow, 
 to look like hair. The ball-room was lighted by pine 
 torches, held up by the attendants, which threw a fiery 
 glare over the scene. 
 
CHARLES THE WELL-BELOVED. 123 
 
 The Duke of Orleans, the king's brother, seized one 
 of these torches and held it close to the face of a satyr, 
 to try whether he could recognize him. Whether 
 he wa,s excited by wine and touched the torch to the 
 the tow out of mischief, or whether what followed was 
 the result of an accident, was never known. The tow 
 and pitch instantly caught fire, and the flame spread 
 from one to the other until all, except Charles, who 
 happened to be at a little distance, were in a blaze. 
 " Save the king ! " shouted one of the poor wretches 
 in the midst of his torment ; but no one knew which 
 was the king. His aunt, the Duchess of Berri, recog- 
 nizeei him, however, and throwing her mantle over him, 
 hurried him out of the roon;i. 
 
 It was a horrible sio-ht to see these " livino; flames " 
 run howlinn; about the dancinjr-hall ; the fire eatino- 
 into their flesh, and their friends vainly trying to tear 
 off the linen clothes which had been sewed tightly 
 round their bodies. One saved himself by jumping 
 into a tub of water which stood near ; the others lin- 
 gered for three davs in dreadful sufi'erino' and then 
 died. The inventor of the sport was among those who 
 were burned, to the great delight of the poor people, 
 to whom he had been very cruel. For his own amuse- 
 ment and that of others, he had been accustomed 
 to beat them like dogs until they barked, and to 
 prick them with his spurs to make them cry out. 
 When his body was carried through the streets at his 
 funeral, some of them shouted out his own words : 
 " Bark, dog, bark! " 
 
 This fearful shock brought on a return of the king's 
 disease. He became frantic, recognized no one, and 
 
124 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 had an especial horror of Queen Isabella, whom he 
 declared he never had known. The only person who 
 had any influence over him was his sister-in-law, Val- 
 entina, Dutchess of Orleans. She, neglected by her 
 husband, who spent his time with Queen Isabella in 
 court gayeties, felt the more sympathy for the king, 
 because she herself was unhappy, and she was very 
 kind to him. He called her " My sweet sister," and 
 was always satisfied when she was with him. 
 
 And so fell that dark shadow which for thirty years 
 rested on the hapless king. For awhile some efforts 
 were made to cure him, and when these failed he was 
 neglected and almost forgotten. For months together, 
 it is said, his clothes were not changed, and he roamed 
 about the vacant corridors of the Hotel St. Pol, a mel- 
 ancholy shadow of greatness. The infamous queen 
 cared no more for her children than for her husband; 
 and once when, during a short interval of reason, the 
 governess of the young princes and princesses came to 
 the king and told him that they were in want of the 
 necessaries of life, he burst into tears, and exclaimed, 
 "Ah ! I can easily believe it, for Isabel treats myself 
 no better." He then gave her the gold drinking-cup 
 which he had just been using, that she might sell it and 
 supply their wants. 
 
 The people of Paris were always fond of their king, 
 even in his dark days, and to please them he was taken 
 out to church, or to some public show whenever he 
 was well enough. AYhen he was not violent he was 
 very gentle and patient; but the days passed slowly, 
 and some kind-hearted person brought him some play- 
 ing cards, which had been known before, but were 
 
CHARLES THE WELL-BELOVED. 125 
 
 very little used. Charles liked them, and they helped 
 to pass away many a tedious hour. 
 
 The remainder of Charles's unhappy reign is only one 
 dreary succession of quarrels between two great rivals 
 who were struggling to gain the supreme power — the 
 dukes of Burgundy and Orleans. When the old Duke of 
 Burgundy died, his son, John Sans Peur, (without fear), 
 took up the quarrel just where his father had left it, 
 and a French writer says of him, " Nature seemed to 
 have made him expressly to hate the Duke of Orleans." 
 The latter was a handsome, gay young man, and a 
 great favorite with the common people. Not tliat he 
 ever did anything for them but spend their hard-earned 
 money, but they were proud of him, and liked to see 
 him riding through the streets on his prancing horse, 
 bowino- to rio;ht and left like a true prince. John the 
 Fearless was bitterly jealous of him, and as there was 
 no lawful way of getting rid of him, he chose a way of 
 his own. 
 
 Orleans was dining one evening with the queen 
 when a message was brought to him that^King Charles 
 wanted to see him at the Hotel St. Pol. He set out 
 immediately to obey the summons, and was riding 
 along the streets, singing and playing with his glove, 
 a few attendants only being with him, when suddenly 
 a band of twenty armed men siDrang out upon him 
 from a house w^here they had been lying in wait, cry- 
 ing out, " Death ! Death !" " What's all this about?" 
 inquired the duke, " I am the Duke of Orleans." 
 "Just what we want," was the answer; and they fell 
 upon him and fairly hacked him to pieces, so that when 
 his servants came to look for the body, they could not 
 
126 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 find it all at once; the brains were scattered over the 
 pavement, and a hand was picked up the next day out 
 of the mud. 
 
 The Duke of Burgundy seemed very much distressed 
 by what had happened — perhaps he was so. Perhaps 
 he would have gladly called the dead man to life again. 
 He attended the funeral and wept bitterly when he 
 saw the disfigured features. No one then thouo-ht of his 
 being the murderer; but when people began to inquire 
 into what had been done, his guilt was so plain that 
 he put spurs to his horse and galloped towards his own 
 dominions. He soon came back, however, and boldly 
 acknowledged the deed, saying that he did it for the 
 good of France, and he made a ''celebrated preacher 
 deliver a sermon in which the act was applauded as that 
 of a good patriot. 
 
 But the quarrel was not at an end. The eldest son 
 of the murdered duke married the dauo^hter of the 
 Count of Armagnac, a nobleman who now became the 
 head of the Orleans party, which from this time was 
 called by his name. For the next seven years the 
 history of France is one scene of horror. An associa- 
 tion was formed in Paris among the party who favored 
 the duke of Burgundy, sometimes called "^'Corch- 
 eurs," which means "Skinners," and sometimes "Cabo- 
 chiens," from the name of their leader, Caboche. 
 These miscreants, under the guidance of butchers and 
 hangmen, made the pretence of defending the city an 
 excuse for murder, robbery, and outrages too horrible 
 to be repeated. When any one offended them they 
 only needed to say "there's an Armagnac!" and 
 either dispatched him on the spot and plundered his 
 
CHARLES THE WELL-BELOVED. 127 
 
 house, or dragged him off to prison till he should pay 
 for his release. Then the Armagnacs forced their way 
 into the city and took their turn in the work of destruc- 
 tion; next the duke of Burgundy appeared with an 
 army, drove off the Armagnacs and again deluged the 
 streets of Paris with blood, abandoning to torture and 
 starvation those of the opposite party, seizing upon 
 their property, and when they died, throwing their 
 corpses into the common ditches, to be devoured by 
 dogs and swine. 
 
 In the country it was no better. Every ruffian who 
 wanted to live by plunder had only to put on the white 
 scarf of the Armagnacs or the blue hood of the Bur- 
 gundians, and he had a w^arrant for all his evil deeds. 
 Every princi^ole of justice and honor was forgotten by 
 high and low. Secret associations, midnight drown- 
 ings, hideous tortures, were as much the work of the 
 ffreat as of the most deo-raded. The streets were 
 paraded day and night by parties of Cabochiens, armed 
 with knife in hand and mallet on shoulder, keeping 
 order by striking down instantly all who opposed them. 
 While such things were going on, it was only natural 
 that the enemies of France should take the occasion to 
 invade her blood-stained soil. News came that Henry 
 the Fifth was on his way from England, and the 
 Hundred Years' war broke out anew. 
 
 Even if Henry's claim had been a good one, the 
 French nobles would hardly have stood by quietly and 
 allowed him to conc[uer their country. They could 
 destroy one another, but wanted no stranger to meddle 
 in their business. Almost the whole nobility of France 
 rushed into this fatal war. The armies met upon the 
 
128 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 field of Agincourt, where was fought the third of those 
 great battles gained by a handful of English over a 
 force many times greater than their own. The story of 
 Crecy and Poitiers was repeated. The French, hasty, 
 impetuous, and unskillfuUy placed by the Constable 
 d'AIbret, their leader, were driven back in confusion, 
 while the cool-headed English king took advantage of 
 eYQYj point left open to him. 
 
 When King Henry bad conquered the whole of Nor- 
 mandy, the princes in Paris began to think it was 
 time to be up and doing. The Dauphin Charles was 
 now sixteen, old enough to have some share in the 
 government; and, as he had always been under the 
 influence of the Orleanist party, had never been on 
 good terms with the Duke of Burgundy. But in order 
 that they might arrange together some measures for 
 driving back the English, the Duke was invited to 
 meet Charles on the bridge of Montereau. His friends 
 warned him that he placed his life in danger, but' he 
 justified his name by turning a deaf ear to them. A 
 pavilion was made in the middle of the bridge into 
 which the Dauphin and the Duke entered, each with 
 ten attendants. The Duke took off his plumed hat 
 and bent his knee before the son of his King. While 
 in this position, a follower of the Daupliin, named 
 Tanneguy-Duchatel, struck him a furious blow on the 
 head with a hatchet, and others rushed forward and fin- 
 ished the work with their swords. Those who were 
 with him were either killed or taken prisoners. Thus 
 perished, in the prime of life, John the Fearless, Duke 
 of Burgundy. The murder of Orleans was avenged. 
 
 We come now to the last scene in which we shall 
 
CHARLES THE WELL-BELOVED. 129 
 
 see Charles the Sixth play the puppet in the hands of 
 his enemies, for all were his enemies, whether 
 French or Enoflish. There was none to care for the 
 silent sufferer, to whom gleams of reason came just 
 often enough to show him the mournful state of his 
 country, and arouse him to make a feeble effort to 
 stay the tide of her distresses. Philip of Burgundy, 
 the son of the murdered duke, ranged himself on the 
 side of the English, in hopes of revenge on the Arm- 
 agnacs. The Queen, who hated her son, eagerly fol- 
 lowed him, and a treaty was made at Troyes in 1^20 
 between Henry and Charles, which goes almost be- 
 yond the power of imagination to dream of. Henry 
 the Fifth was to marry Charles's daughter Catherine, 
 was to be Reo-ent of France durino: the life-time of 
 its sovereiofn, and kina* at his death. Not a word of the 
 Dauphin, except that both parties bound themselves 
 to have nothing to do with Charles, "calling himself 
 Dauphin." The poor crazy king signed the treaty, 
 probably without knowing what he was doing ; and 
 such was the state of wretchedness to which the peo- 
 ple of France had been reduced, that they were actu- 
 ally satisfied with the treaty of Troyes, which gave 
 them into the hands of the strano-er. 
 
 Armagnac is now made Constable, and Queen Isa- 
 bella, disgraced, is shut up in a castle away from the 
 capital. Children in the street who have been taught 
 to sing a song beginning " Burgundy's duke, God give 
 thee joy," are beaten to the ground without knowing 
 why ; Armagnac is everything. 
 
 And now once more the scene changes. The Queen, 
 though closely watched, manages to send her golden 
 9 
 
130 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 seal to the Duke of Burgundy, with the message that 
 if he will call for her, she will go with him. The Duke 
 would have come on a slighter invitation. He appears 
 at Paris with an army; the mob, at sight of him, recov- 
 ers heart and besfins ao^ain the work of destruction ; 
 the Constable d'Armagnac is torn to pieces, amidst fero- 
 cious howls and cries of joy ; the prisons, into which 
 the Arinagnacs had at first been thrust, are broken 
 open and the prisoners murdered one by one ; those 
 who shut themselves up are smoked out ; others are 
 pitched from the windows and caught on pikes by the 
 crowd below ; cries of " Burgundy ! Death to the 
 Armagnacs ! " fill the air ; the Constable's body, hewn 
 in quarters, is distributed about the town so that all 
 may see it ; little children play in the streets with the 
 corpses ; strips of fi.esh are cut from the bleeding backs 
 of the Armagnacs and left hanging to the neck, to 
 represent the white scarfs they wore ; the Duke of 
 Burgundy in vain tries to restore order, even shaking 
 hands with the head-butcher, to make friends with him ; 
 fiends seem to have taken the place of men. 
 
 At last the butchers began to be worn out by their 
 excesses ; a few of them were executed, and something 
 like quiet restored. Henry of England, in the mean- 
 time, was attending to his business thoagh the French 
 had forgotten theirs. He laid siege to the old city of 
 Rouen, taken from his ancestor John Lackland by 
 Philip Augustus more than two hundred years before, 
 and, having taken it, pursued his victorious march 
 through the country. 
 
 Two years more saw both kings laid in the grave; 
 and strange to say, Henry, young and strong when they 
 
CHABLES THE VICTORIOUS. 131 
 
 put their hands together to the treaty of Troyes, was 
 the first to go. The one whose life had been a living 
 death was left for a month or two longer, constantly 
 mourning for his good son Henry, his dear Henry, who, 
 to his disordered mind, replaced the children to whom 
 he had been so many years a stranger. 
 
 When the common people knew that their king was 
 dead, the old affection which had given him the name 
 of the Bien-aime — the Well-beloved — burst out afresh. 
 They went in crowds to the Hotel St. Pol to gaze for 
 the last time on those wasted features which had never 
 looked on them but with kindness; they sobbed and 
 cried and said they should never again have a king so 
 good to them as he had been — that he had gone to his 
 rest and reward, while nothing was left to them but 
 sorrow. Only a few officers, whose duty made it neces- 
 sary, accompanied the body of the king to its tomb 
 in St. Denis. Not one of his own family was there, 
 and no person of high rank except the English Duke 
 of Bedford; but the hearts of his people, a nobler 
 retinue, were with him to the end. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CHARLES THE VICTORIOUS. 1422-1461. 
 
 T would have been hard to tell who was Kinof 
 of France now. There was a little Ens"lish 
 baby, nine months old, proclaimed in Paris 
 under the name of Henry the Sixth. And there was 
 Charles the Seventh, of France, twenty years old, who 
 
132 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 called himself king, but had not been crowned, and 
 didn't quite know what to do about it. He was an 
 indolent young man, with no taste for fighting, and 
 never went " o a battle if he could help it, though he 
 was most absurdly called The Victorious, because 
 stout work was done, although it was done by others. 
 
 We can scarcely believe that this descendant of 
 Hugh Capet lived quietly in the town of Bourges, 
 amusing himself in various ways, even talking of 
 leaving France altogether to the English, and taking 
 refuge elsewhere. 
 
 If he had stopped his dancing and singing long 
 enough to go about a little among his own people, (for 
 in the south of France there were laro;e districts not 
 yet conquered by the English), he would have seen a 
 sorry state of things. An old writer says: "There 
 was nothing but a horrible confusion, poverty, solitude 
 and fear. Even the cattle, accustomed to the larum- 
 bell, the sign of the enemy^s approach, would at its 
 sound run home of themselves." The country was 
 infested with wolves, who fought for the bodies of the 
 dead, and even made their way into the cities in search 
 of jDrey. The burying-grounds, with their hastily 
 made graves, were full of them. 
 
 At one time food was so scarce that when the doo;- 
 killer went his rounds he was followed by a crowd of 
 poor people who would seize the carcasses of the ani- 
 mals and devour them greedily, entrails and all, to 
 satisfy their cruel hunger. In some of the cities they 
 tried to relieve their misery by a strange amusement. 
 These starving wretches would go by night to the 
 cemeteries, hundreds of them together, and dance and 
 
CHARLES THE VICTORIOUS. 133 
 
 sin;^ and shout madly among the graves so as to for- 
 get, for a little while at least, what they suifered in 
 the day-time. This was called the " Danse Macabre " 
 or dance of death. In the morning, exhausted by 
 their wild gayety, they would creep back to their 
 wretched homes. 
 
 Charles saw nothing of all this ; if it was told him 
 he probably laughed at it as a good joke. He always 
 had enough to eat and drink, though according to the 
 story, not always enough to wear. It is said that a 
 shoemaker from whom he ordered a pair of boots 
 refused to leave them without the money, which Charles 
 did not have. But nothing disturbed his easy good- 
 nature. Boots or no boots, he enjoyed life as he went 
 alono;. 
 
 In the meantime, the bov-kino; at Paris, the littl e o o n 
 ..-^ Henry the Sixth, was growing up under the care of 
 liis uncles, sometimes in London, sometimes in Paris, 
 as the case might be. The Duke of Bedford, who had y , y ^ 
 been left Regent of France by Henry the Eigh^feh, ^^'^^]r^//fr^ 
 an upright man, but could do little to lessen the mise- f 
 ries caused by the war. Besides, his great object in 
 life was to conquer the rest of France, not to make 
 it pleasant for the part already conquered. 
 
 Queen Isabella, who might have done so much good 
 and who did so much harm, lived quite alone with her 
 servants in the great hotel St. Pol, forlornly enough, for 
 thouo^h the Eno-Hsh lords treated her with outward re- 
 spoct she must have known that they despised her. Lit- 
 tle Henry was once riding by her palace when some one 
 pointed to an old woman standing at one of the win- 
 dows and told him it was his grandmother. He lifted 
 
134 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 his hat respectfully; the Queen bowed very low to him, 
 then turned away and burst into tears. She lived long 
 enough to repent of her misdoings, wdiether she did so 
 or not. When she died, the sculptor who was told to 
 make a tomb for her carved a wolf on it as an emblem 
 of her cruelty and greediness, instead of a dog, the 
 emblem of fidelity, which was sometimes put on 
 tomb-stones. 
 
 The war gradually narrowed itself down into a con- 
 test for the possession of the town of Orleans. The 
 Eno;lish, who were besieo-ino; it had built a sort of 
 town outside of it, with great towers called bastilles, 
 from which they could fire their stone cannon-balls into 
 the town ; for by this time cannon had come into com- 
 mon use. All the bravest and most experienced men 
 on both sides had collected about this important place, 
 and each party felt that the final victory would be with 
 the one who should win it. 
 
 The Duke of Bedford had sent from Paris a large 
 supply of food for the English, among which there 
 were many barrels of salted herrings. The French, 
 shut up in the town, hearing of this, thought it was a 
 fine chance to get in some provisions, of which they 
 were greatly in need. So they sent out a party of 
 soldiers to meet the herrings and other good things, but 
 made their attack so rashly that, they were driven 
 back in confusion, while the barrels were burst open 
 by the cannon-balls and their contents scattered on 
 the ground. This is called in ridicule, the " Battle 
 of the Herrings," because there were more fish than 
 soldiers to be found on the field afterwards. 
 
 AVe must now leave the scene of war, and wander 
 
CHARLES THE VICTORIOUS. 135 
 
 away to the village of Dorareray, in Lorraine, where 
 there lived at this time a yoang peasant girl named 
 Jeanne Dare. Her father and mother were plain, 
 respectable people, and she helped them with what- 
 ever they had to do, sometimes tending cattle and 
 sheep in the fields, sometimes sewing with her mother 
 in the house. From her childhood she had always had 
 a horror of the English. One day when she was about 
 nine years old, the dreadful cry was heard, " The En- 
 glish are coming!" and her family and all the people 
 who could get away ran off as fast as they could, only 
 to find ou their return that their pretty village had 
 been sacked and burnt to the ground. From thinking 
 a great deal about these things, and at the same 
 time keeping long fasts until her body was worn out 
 and she became a little light-headed from weakness, 
 she began to fancy that she saw wonderful visions 
 of saints and angels, and heard heavenly voices 
 teilino- her that she should deliver France from the 
 enemy. 
 
 This conviction of her divine mission increased until 
 she felt impelled to set out for Orleans to carry it out, 
 much against her father's will. When she sent word 
 to the commanding French general that she had come 
 to raise the siege, and to have the king crowned at 
 Rheims, he said, " Box the girl's ears and send her 
 home." But she kept on quietly until she found some 
 one who would take her to the king. By this time 
 every body had heard of the Maid, and her visions and 
 her voices and her promises; and without believing in 
 her, all were curious to see her. She was tall and fine- 
 looking, and for convenience in riding on horseback, 
 
136 HISTORY OF FBANCE, 
 
 put on a man's dress, which was quite suitable for one 
 who was going to fight. 
 
 There are several wonderful stories told about her, 
 which were fully believed in by the people of that 
 time. One was that she described an old sword with 
 five crosses on the blade which nobody then living had 
 ever seen, but which was found behind the altar of St. 
 Catherine's Church at Fierbois, just where she said it 
 would be. Another was that when she was brought 
 into the presence of the Dauphin he purposely retired 
 amono- the crowd, and sent forward a nobJeman who 
 pretended to be the King; and that she put this man 
 aside and picked out the real Charles in a minute with- 
 out ever having seen him. And still another, that she 
 took him aside and told him of a certain prayer he had 
 made, which no one could possibly know of but him- 
 self. 
 
 No doubt these things could easily be explained if 
 we knew a little more about them; but at any rate, 
 both Charles and his advisers pretended to be con- 
 vinced by them. They thought it more prudent, how- 
 ever, to get the opinions of some learned clergymen 
 on the subject, and had her examined by them to see 
 whether her visions did not come from evil spirits in- 
 stead of good ones. Some of her answers are so 
 shrewd that it is plain she had plenty of mother-wit, 
 if nothing else. One wise doctor saiJ: "If it is 
 God's will to deliver France by your means, he has no 
 need of soldiers." She answered instantly, "The 
 soldiers will do the fighting, and God will give them 
 the victory." Another, who came from a part of France 
 where people did not speak very good French, asked 
 
CHARLES THE VICTORIOUS. 137 
 
 her what language the heavenly Voices spoke to her. 
 "A better one than yours," she retorted. None of the 
 old o;entlemen lauo-hed at this, as thev would do now- 
 a-days if a young girl made them such a sharp answer, 
 but on the whole they decided that it was quite safe to 
 let her go on and do what she could. 
 
 And now we have her at last just as she had been 
 lono-ino- to be. Mounted on a mao-nificent white war- 
 horse, dressed in a shining suit of armor, the old sword, 
 well-polished, hanging from her belt, a w^iite banner 
 embroidered with golden lilies carried before her, and 
 a large body of men-at-arms at her back, escorting a 
 supply of provisions — the young peasant-girl set boldly 
 forward to fulfill her mission ; to save France and crown 
 its lawful king. Strangely enough, the English offered 
 no opposition, and she passed safely into the city of 
 Orleans. 
 
 When the first wild shout of joy that greeted her 
 arrival had ceased, Jeanne set about her work. lean 
 not tell you all the particulars of this strange story. 
 No wonder that the English thought she was helped 
 by evil spirits. In less than two weeks they met with 
 such continual defeats in the fights which took place 
 between them and the soldiers from the city, that they 
 moved off of their own accord, leaving behind them 
 not only their baggage and artillery, but also their 
 wounded companions and many French prisoners. 
 
 The first part of the Maid's promise was fulfilled; she 
 had raised the seige of Orleans. Can you wonder that 
 the people were almost beside themselves with wonder 
 and delight? 
 
 When the English had gone away, Jeanne went out 
 
138 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 to meet the king. Charles was much pleased to see 
 her and took off his cap to her, which was a rare 
 piece ol" condescension in a king; but when she wanted 
 him to go on to Rheims and be crowned, he hung his 
 head and made all sorts of objections; he had not 
 troops enough, he had no money, the English had pos- 
 session of the city and of all the country leading to it. 
 It did not seem to him, as it did to the Maid, that he 
 could cut his way through; and it was only after re- 
 peated urging that he at last got up spirit enough to 
 set out. 
 
 On the way they had some splendid successes, and 
 a,s they drew near the city of Rheims the gates opened, 
 and a deputation came out, offering Charles the keys. 
 There, in the beautiful cathedral, with his great 
 men about him and the Maiden, with her beloved 
 standard in her hand, at his side, he was crowned king 
 of France. The archbishop anointed his head with 
 the holy oil from the same vial, if we may believe 
 what we are told, from wdiich it was poured on the 
 head of Clovis as he knelt at the same spot. Jeanne 
 was overcome, and cried like a baby. She fell at the 
 king's feet and clasped his knees, exclaiming in a pas- 
 sion of tears that now she had done what she was sent 
 to do, and that since the gentle king was crowned, all 
 she asked was that she might go home and tend sheep 
 again on her father's farm. 
 
 The king did not wish her to go home so long as he 
 thought she could be of any use to him, but neither 
 did he help her heartily, and matters dragged along 
 very unsatisfactorily. He gave her father a title of 
 nobility, with the name of De Lys, in memory of the 
 
CHARLES THE VICTORIOUS. 139 
 
 lilies on her banner; but she would much rather have 
 had him work vigorously in driving out the English. 
 Months passed away without any great change; some- 
 times one party had the advantage, sometimes the 
 other; nothing could rouse the sluggish Charles into 
 making any exertion. 
 
 At last the end came. Jeanne had made a success- 
 ful attack on Compiegne, and most of the army had 
 forced their way in; but she herself and a few soldiers 
 were still outside, fighting. Suddenly the gates were 
 shut and the drawbridge raised, and she was left at the 
 mercy of the enemy. It was said at the time that this 
 was done intentionally; but it seems more probable 
 that the commander in the city feared that the English 
 would enter affain, and wished to make sure of the 
 prize. At all events, we can give him the benefit of 
 the doubt. 
 
 Left thus almost alone, the Maid became a mark 
 for all eyes. She was easily recognized by her armor, 
 which was well known in both armies, and a soldier in 
 the service of Count John of Luxembourg, (who was a 
 knight in the Burgundian army), pulled her off her 
 horse,' and took her to his master. Jeanne Dare was a 
 prisoner in the hands of her eneihies. 
 
 The Count was poor and the Duke of Bedford knew 
 it. Taking: him on his weak side the Duke offered him a 
 large sum of money — ten thousand francs — if he would 
 sell the helpless prisoner, that the vindictive English 
 nation mig-ht do with her as they would. He hesitated 
 a long time over the bargain, and his wife fell on her 
 knees before him entreating him not to disgrace him- 
 self. If he had any feelings of honor he must have 
 
140 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 known what a shameful trade it was; but the tempta- 
 tion was too strong. The money was paid and the 
 English seized their prey. 
 
 And where was Charles the Seventh all this time ? 
 Was he straining every nerve to raise a ransom for 
 the poor girl, which the rules of war would have 
 obliged the Count to take? Was he making appeals 
 to her countrymen not to let the favorite of Heaven, as 
 they had long thought her, fall into the hands of the 
 wolves who were thirsting for her blood? Did he 
 offer English prisoners, of whom he had many, in 
 exchange? He did absolutely nothing. He sat still 
 in stupid indifference and left her to her fate. 
 
 The English Regent, the Duke of Bedford, knowing 
 that all the world would cry shame upon him if he 
 killed a defenceless prisoner who had been taken in 
 open fight, did the most cruel thing that wickedness 
 could devise — ho handed her over to the bishops. 
 They pretended to think her an enemy to the Church 
 and a sorceress who used unlawful arts, though it was 
 plain to every one who had ever been with her that 
 she was as religious as she was patriotic; but they 
 were friends of the English and angry because she 
 had helped her own countrymen against them, so it 
 was resolved that she should die. 
 
 If they had hanged or beheaded her at once, it 
 would have been merciful in comparison with their 
 methods. Sixteen times did they bring her out from 
 the dungeon, with heavy irons on her hands and feet, 
 to answer the cruel questions in which they tried in 
 every way to entrap her into saying that she had been 
 helped by the devil. She gave such simple, straight- 
 
CHARLES THE VICTORIOUS. 141 
 
 forward answers, so wise too, that they failed to make 
 out what they wanted to, and finally induced her to 
 sign a paper, (which she had to do by making a mark 
 with the pen, for she could not write), confessing that 
 she had been wrono- in some thino-s she believed in. 
 
 She was finally pronounced guilty of heresy, and con- 
 demned to be kept in prison for life Avith nothing to 
 eat and drink but " the bread of affliction and the 
 water of affliction." But nothino; short of her death 
 would satisfy the English ; and making a miserable 
 excuse about her having broken a promise to them, 
 her judges condemned her to be burnt alive. 
 
 She had no time for preparation, and she asked for 
 none, for she knew too well that it would be refused. 
 While they were passing the sentence a great pile of 
 sticks was laid up in the market-place at Rouen, and 
 from the hall of judgment she was led out to it. 
 Over the scaffold were written the words, " Heretic, 
 apostate, idolater." She did not see them, for she was 
 humbly kneeling in prayer until she was led to the 
 top of the dreadful pile ; then the torch was set to it 
 acd as the flames blazed up around her she was seen 
 at the last moment pressing the crucifix to her lips. 
 
 No Frenchman — no Englishman — should read poor 
 Jeanne's story without tears of grief and shame. 
 
 Though the Maid of Orleans was dead, her work 
 went on. A very wise and able man called the Count 
 de Richemont, who was Constable of France, but had 
 been banished from court by the same jealous favorites 
 who had set the kino- a2:ainst Jeanne, was recalled 
 and made prime minister. The Duke of Burgundy 
 was very tired of fighting, and was persuaded to 
 
142 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 make peace with Charles on his own account by the 
 treaty of Arras, leaving the English to get out of the 
 war in any way they thought proper. 
 
 This, then, was the end of the long and murderous 
 strife between the Buro-undians and the Armao-nacs. 
 Both sides agreed to forgive and forget, and we see 
 the beginning of better times in the fact then when 
 Paris was taken from the English, neither party tried 
 to take vengance on the old enemies who were found 
 there. Charles entered his capital in triumph after an 
 absence of nineteen years. 
 
 A French writer who lived at that time calls this 
 king " Charles the Well-served/' which would be a 
 better title for him than the more common one of The 
 Victorious. It was not alone in war that he found 
 faithful servants. Money has been called "the sinews 
 of war ; " it was the very back-bone of Charles's, and 
 without the generous assistance of a rich merchant 
 named Jacques Coeur, he might never have won back 
 his whole country. True to his character, the king 
 was afterwards basely ungrateful to him ; but France 
 had been saved. 
 
 A sketch of times like these would not be complete 
 if no mention were made of a state of things that could 
 not have existed in any century later than the fifteenth. 
 This was the utter lawlessness of the great nobility, 
 not only towards their dependents, but even to one 
 another. We read of a Duke of Brittany who starves 
 his brother to death within hearing of the passers-by, 
 of whom he piteously begs a morsel of bread for char- 
 ity ; of a Count of Guelders who drags his old father out 
 of bed, makes him walk on foot many miles bare-foot 
 
CHARLES THE VICTORIOUS. 143 
 
 throuo-h the snow, and then throws him into an 
 underground dungeon, from which he never comes out 
 alive ; of a Lord of Giac's poisoning his wife, and then 
 makino; her gret on horseback behind him and ride till 
 she dropped dead ; and lastly, of a nobleman named 
 De Retz, who was proved to have enticed more than 
 a hundred little children into his castle, and then mur- 
 dered them for his own pleasure. The tears and groans 
 of the parents as they told their pitiful stories moved 
 the judges' hearts, and they shuddered with horror, 
 though they were used to hearing such things. De 
 Retz was condemned to be burned ; but being of noble 
 blood, the executioner was allowed to strangle him first, 
 that he might not suffer. 
 
 After the peace of Arras a change seemed to come 
 over the character of the king. He was just as un- 
 grateful as ever, but he became more energetic, and 
 seems during that part of his life to have been quite 
 the model of a " working king." Some writers say 
 that this is due to the influence of Agnes Sorel, one 
 of the queen's ladies of honor, who became a favorite 
 with Charles, and is said to have shamed him into behav- 
 ing like a man; others think it was the good and sen- 
 sible men about him, Richeraont and others, whose ex- 
 ample roused him to action when he was tired of the 
 follies of his youth. 
 
 Whatever it was, France had reason to be thankful. 
 x\mono- other grreat reforms was the establishment of a 
 standing army, or body of regularly paid troops, so 
 that there could be no more excuse for bands of 
 "skinners" to desolate the country thus protected. 
 The detested English were driven out of one place 
 
144 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 after another, until in 1453 not a foot of French soil 
 remained in their hands except Calais and a little strip 
 around it. The Hundred Years' War was over. 
 
 The latter years of Charles the Seventh's life are 
 sad enough. He grew indolent and careless again, 
 but that did little harm now that everything was in 
 good working order. His worst trials came from his 
 undutiful and perverse son, Louis the Dauphin, who 
 had been from his boyhood a thorn in his father's side. 
 When he was only seventeen he joined in an insurrec- 
 tion called the " Praguerie," and at the close of it in- 
 solently said to his father, " My lord, if you will not 
 pardon the rebels, I must go back with them, for I 
 promised them I would." "Louis," answered the 
 king, " the gates are open, .and if they are not wide 
 enough, I'll have a hundred feet of wall knocked down 
 for you, so that you can go where you please." 
 
 But in spite of his coolness, Charles felt ill at ease, 
 and sank into a state of low spirits that was not much 
 better than his father's insanity. One of his counsel- 
 lors wrote to him. "It pleases you to be shut up in 
 castles, wretched places, and all sorts of little holes, 
 without showing yourself to your people and listening 
 to their troubles." He had troubles enough of his 
 own, poor man, and longed to see the Dauphin, who, 
 knowing that his father was failing in health, was 
 quietly waiting in Flanders for him to die. Charles 
 became daily more unhappy, and finally, taking it into 
 his poor weak head that Louis wanted to poison him^ 
 refused to eat anything. In vain his favorite son, the 
 Duke of Berri, offered to taste all the food first him- 
 self; in vain the physicians and attendants tried to 
 
LOUIS XL 145 
 
 convince him of the folly of throwing* away his life 
 through fear of death*; he persisted with all the ob- 
 stinacy of a disordered mind, and in a few days 
 literally starved himself to death. And that was the 
 end, so far as this world is concerned, of Charlesl:he 
 Seventh; the Victorious, the Well-served, the Un- 
 grateful. 
 
 h 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LOUIS XI.— 1461-1483. 
 
 HARLES the Seventh had named his oldest 
 son after Saint Louis, in the hope that he 
 might resemble him in character. He lived 
 long enough to see how vain his hopes were. The 
 religion which had dignified and ennobled the charac- 
 ter of Louis the Ninth became in Louis the Eleventh 
 only the lowest kind of superstition. He was never 
 tired of praying to the Saints, who were the only 
 sacred beings he seemed to consider worthy of his 
 attention; but his prayers were not that he might " do 
 justice and love mercy," but always that he might be 
 successful in some undertaking or be spared from 
 some loss. 
 
 He walked about with half a dozen little leaden 
 images of different saints stuck in his cap, and when 
 he wanted anything very much, off would come the 
 cap, and he would select the image of that saint who 
 he imagined would be most likely to favor the matter 
 in hand; then setting the morsel of lead on a table, 
 10 
 
146 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 he would kneel before it, quite regardless of the pres- 
 ence of others, and mutter his petitions. 
 
 As far as looks went, Louis was very little like a 
 king. He had a face full of vulgar cunning, and 
 walked in an awkward, shambling manner; and as he 
 chose to go about in garments which a respectable 
 merchant would have been ashamed of, there was no 
 " majesty " about him except the name. Yet this man 
 of all others, was the first European prince to be 
 addressed by the title "Your Majesty." He had one 
 settled purpose in his mind, and from this he never 
 turned aside. It was to bring all ranks of people, 
 from princes to serfs, into something as nearly like 
 slavery as possible, and of this nation of slaves he was 
 to be the only master. He did not always succeed 
 with the great; but the poorer classes, who had never 
 tasted the sweets of liberty, were soon ground down 
 into absolute submission to his will. 
 
 The nobility were harder to manage. Being indig- 
 nant at Louis's tyrannical interference with their priv- 
 ileges, a great number of them bound themselves to- 
 gether in what they called " The League for the Pub- 
 lic Good." Philip de Cotnines, a historian who lived 
 at that time, and who takes up 'the place left vacant by 
 Froissart, says that this was formed " to remonstrate 
 with the king upon the bad order and injustice he kept 
 up in his kingdom." The League was kept secret as 
 long as possible, but Louis employed too many spies 
 to be long ignorant of any thing that went on, and in 
 an address to his people on the subject he remarjced 
 that if he had allowed his vassals to continue tyranniz- 
 ing over their own subjects, as they had been used to 
 
LOUIS XL 147 
 
 doing, they never would have concerned themselves 
 about the " Public Good." This was very true, but it 
 did not make the nobles more contented with the kiuir's 
 severity towards themselves. 
 
 We can judge of the nature of this severity when 
 we read that he once had two gentlemen's ears cut 
 off for killing a hare on their own land ! Such a king 
 could not be very popular with the " privileged classes." 
 
 Louis's treatment of the Cardinal de Balue was 
 characteristic. This man was the son of a tailor, and 
 Louis, finding him quick-witted and serviceable, had 
 raised him to one high place after another, and at last 
 required the Pope to make him a Cardinal. Instead 
 of being entirely devoted to the interests of his 
 benefactor, Balue engaged in various plots against 
 him, and was at last found out. He richly deserved 
 hanging, but that would have been too merciful for 
 Louis, who wanted the pleasure of knowing that he 
 was livins: and suffering:. 
 
 He had an iron cage, about eight feet square and^ 
 seven high, placed in the strong castle of Loches, and 
 in this the unfortunate man was shut up like a wild 
 beast for eleven years. The door was never opened; 
 his food was passed in to him through a grating; his 
 hair and nails grew to be like a mane and claws. It 
 is said that Louis occasionally went to feast his eyes 
 upon this pleasant sight. 
 
 At last another Pope wanted the Cardinal let out, and 
 as the king himself was nearly done with the world 
 by^that time, and no longer able to go and visit his 
 former favorite, the request was granted. 
 
 The chief of Louis's "great vassals" was Charles 
 
148 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, and the greater part of 
 Charles's ten years' reign was only one long duel with 
 his crafty neighbor. Louis, though cautious to excess, 
 at one time formed the singular resolution of going to 
 visit the Duke of Burgundy in his own dominions, to 
 settle one of their innumerable quarrels. Being pro- 
 vided with a " safe-conduct" he went to Peronne, where 
 the duke met him with a great show^ of respect, kissed 
 him and called him his dear brother, and they walked 
 into the town, together, Louis laying his hand famil- 
 iarly on Charles's shoulder. They talked over their 
 affairs for some days in a friendly manner, when 
 suddenly the Duke received news that some secret 
 aorents of Louis had been excitino; an insurrection in 
 the Flemish town of Liege. At this his rage knew no 
 bounds. He was always hot-tempered, but this 
 lashed him to fury. He had Louis locked up in the 
 fortress where he was lodged, and for three days 
 thought over plans of vengeance, determining to kill 
 him then and there. Durino; one whole nio-ht he 
 never undressed, but walked back and forth in his 
 room in wild agitation. At last his anger cooled 
 down a little, and some of his advisers, among whom 
 was Philip de Comines, persuaded him not to violate 
 his kingly word given in the safe-conduct, but to let 
 Louis go, and try to revenge himself in some more 
 creditable way. 
 
 Louis was released, but Charles had his revenge. 
 After forcing him to sign a treaty similar to the one 
 he had broken, the Duke said: "And now please to 
 come with me to Liege to help me punish the treason 
 of these people of Liege, committed all through your 
 
LOUIS XL 149 
 
 means!" The King did not dar^ to refuse, and much 
 did it astonish the people he had paid to shout, 
 "Hurrah for France!" to see him ridino* into the town 
 with their angry Duke, shouting at the top of his 
 voice, "Hurrah for Burgundy!" Charles forced him 
 first to witness the storming and sacking of the town, 
 and afterVard to go with him in a solemn procession 
 to the great cathedral to give thanks for the victory; 
 then, burning with rage and shame, he was allowed 
 to depart. 
 
 The people of Paris were not so much afraid of 
 Louis but that they taught their parrots to scream 
 out, " Peronne! " at the top of their voices. Louis 
 did not go back there for some time, but one of his 
 "gossips" was kept quite busy in wringing the necks 
 of the poor birds, who only did as they had been told. 
 Louis probably wished that th^y had but one neck, 
 that he mio-ht wring; it once for all and have done 
 with it. 
 
 In Sir Walter Scott's novel of Quentin Durward 
 there is a spirited account of this visit of Louis's, 
 bringing out in strong relief the different characters 
 of the Kina: and the Duke. 
 
 As the history of France includes that of Burgundy, 
 I must tell you here what remains of the story of 
 Charles the Bold. Tired at last of measurino- his 
 strength against Louis, he picked a quarrel with the 
 Swiss mountaineers, and invaded their country. Here 
 he got exactly what he deserved — a tremendous defeat 
 — at the battle of Granson. He had taken a a:reat 
 quantity of splendid things with him — why, one can 
 hardly imagine, unless it was to impress these plain 
 
150 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 people with his vast 'wealth, — but he had to run away, 
 leaving them all behind. A whole dinner-service of 
 solid silver, a crown loaded down with jewels, the col- 
 lar of the Order of the Golden Fleece, founded by his 
 father, Philip the Good, which was a mass of precious 
 stones, hundreds of pieces of magnificent silk, velvet, 
 lace, damask, cloth of gold — all these and many more 
 did the Duke leave behind him at Granson. 
 
 They did the Swiss little good, however. The silver 
 they supposed to be pewter, and sold it for a few pence; 
 the gorgeous cloths and the tapestry from Arras, worth 
 almost its weight in gold, were sold by the yard in 
 shops like sixpenny calico ; the Duke's enormous soli- 
 taire diamond, which had once been worn by the Great 
 Mogul in India, was picked up in the road and at first 
 thrown away by the finder, who afterwards thought, 
 that as it was a pretty piece of glass, he might get a 
 few shillino^s for it, which he did. This at leno;th found 
 its way into the French crown, where it held its place 
 for centuries as one of the richest jewels in Europe. 
 Besides ail these, there were whole barrelfuls of money. 
 
 Charles is often called The Rash ; he justified his 
 name b}^ making another attack on Switzerland within 
 three months, and again the same scenes were repeated 
 in the battle of Morat. So many men were killed here 
 that a hill was made of their bodies, which was cov- 
 ered with earth, and went for three hundred years by 
 the name of "Bone-hill." It was not duo- down until 
 some time in the eighteenth century. 
 
 Charles had not yet had enough fighting, so he 
 next attacked the Duke of Lorraine at Nancy. This 
 was the end. After the battle, which was another 
 
LOUIS XL 151 
 
 overvvlielmino: defeat, no Charles the Bold was to be 
 seen. A search was made among the dead on the 
 field, and there, lying face downward in a frozen marsh, 
 lay all that was left of Louis's great enemy. As they 
 raised the head from the ice in which it was imbedded, 
 apiece of the skin came off, showing a ghastly wound. 
 
 The Duke of Lorraine had the dead body dressed in a 
 white satin gown and laid on a bed of black velvet, 
 under a black satin canopy; a ducal crown was placed 
 on the disfigured head, and the gilded spurs of a knight 
 bound on the heels. Tlien the generous Duke, having 
 done all that he could for his rash and willful enemy, 
 had him buried with the honors due to his rank. 
 
 To relate all the struggles between Louis and his 
 great vassals, would fill a book. His enemies were a 
 sort of Hydra; as soon as a head was cut oif, others 
 sprang up in its place. He generally came off victo- 
 rious in these contests, but it was at the price of 
 never enjoying a moment's peace. The grim irony 
 of his invitation to the Count of St. Pol, Constable of 
 France, is well known: "My cousin," he wrote to 
 him, "weighty matters are pending, in which a head 
 like yours would be of great use to us." In conver- 
 sation with those near him, Louis added, that it was 
 only the head of the Constable that he wanted — his 
 body might stay where it was. He afterwards obtained 
 the head and body together, and separated them at 
 his pleasure. 
 
 One of his standing quarrels was with Edward the 
 Fourth of Eii2:land, ao-ainst whom he had alwavs 
 some ground of complaint, but they did not come to 
 actual fiirhtino:. At one time Edward invaded France 
 
152/ HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 with a large army and imich boasting, meaning to act 
 over again tlio scenes of Crccy, Poitiers ami Agin- 
 court; but he had grown lazy and hixurious, and 
 was bougiit olV at the treaty of Pecquigny, to the 
 great distrust of his sohliers. Rememberino; John the 
 Fearless at tiio bridge of Montereau, Louis provided 
 against treachery l)y having a solid j)lank wall built 
 in the center of the bridge on which he and b]dward 
 were to meet, without any o})ening except a lattice 
 through which these two mighty kings did their talk- 
 ing. Having taken these precautions, they arranged 
 the terms of peace. 
 
 Once more Edward made ready for an invasion of 
 France, but the hand of doath stopped him in the 
 midst of his preparations, and Louis survived him but a 
 sliort time. For two or three years before his death, the 
 life of Louis the Eleventh had been only a wretched 
 attempt at living. Conscious that liis iiand had been 
 against every man, he imagined t)ie haiul of every 
 man to be against him. He shut himself up in the 
 gloomy old castle of Plessis-les-Tours, of whi(*h the 
 grounds were Ulleil with man-traps. A ghastly row of 
 gibbets \\no(] the approach to the castle, and the trees in 
 the forest were loaded \\\t\\ "human fruit.'*' Ilis senti- 
 nels had orders to shoot or hang without inquiry any 
 one wlu"> approached the castle except his own mes- 
 senger; even his children and otiiers of the royal 
 family w^m-c not allowed to vi^it him without special 
 invitation. 
 
 His three favorite compnnions for years had been his 
 hangman, Tristan 1/ llermite, whom he kept constantly 
 busy; his barber, Olivier le Dain, who amused him by 
 
LOUIS XL 153 
 
 liis jests and familiarity; and lastly liis pliysician, ,Tac- 
 quos Coottier, a brutal follow who had induced an 
 astrolo<2;er to tell the king- that he would live only three 
 days aftt^r the doctor's death. Filled witli this idea, 
 Louis IxMMuie almost a slave to this man, who minag-ed 
 to frio-hten him into a'ivini>* him enormous sums of 
 money. 
 
 As death approached Louis became more abjectly 
 superstitious tiian ever. He beg-i^ed one saint after 
 another to spare his miserable life, but the saints paid 
 no attention. He loaded himself with all sorts of 
 relics — a fino-er of one dead saint, a too of another, a 
 sha])eless fragment of bone from a third, hoping that 
 somehow or other their holiness would strike in, and 
 cure, not the wickedness of his heart, but the diseases 
 of his body. When the [)eoplo about him were pray- 
 ing for the health of his body and the salvation of his 
 soul, he intenuptcd them: "Ask only for the cure of 
 the body," said he. "Don't plague the saint with too 
 many things at once." But all this did no good, and 
 ho found himself at last obliged to lot>k the great De- 
 stroyer full in the face. Even then he tried to shut 
 his eyes to it. " When the last moment has come," 
 said he to his attendants, " don't mention the word 
 'death,' but just say, *You mustn't talk much;' I 
 shall mulerstand you."" He gave all the directions for 
 his funeral as minutely as if he had been an under- 
 taker, seeming' as if he could not forego the j^leasure 
 of being obeyed, even in death. 
 
 Louis the Eleventh has been called " the worst 
 father, the worst son, and tlio most brutal husband in 
 all Christendom." At the same time, we uuist remember 
 
154 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 that he did a g:reat deal towards raakinp; France 
 the uDited and powerful country which from his time 
 it has remained. Many of his regulations were wise; 
 he encouraged commerce, and did much to raise the 
 condition of the middle classes, and though these 
 benefits came from no motive hio;her than a sordid 
 selfishness, it can not be denied that he left his country 
 more prosperous than he found it. The people who 
 had felt his tyranny and witnessed his degrading 
 superstition could not appreciate this, however; and 
 one of the most accurate of historians says, "For a 
 long time past, no king of France had been so heavy 
 on his people, or so hated by them." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 CHARLES VIII. LOUIS XII. — 1483-1515. 
 
 SMALL, sickly boy of thirteen, so mis- 
 ^1 shapen that he might almost be called de- 
 formed, was now King of France. The best 
 thino; known about him is that he was surnamed " The 
 Courteous," and that personally he was much beloved. 
 His father, Louis the Eleventh, had kept him ignorant, 
 so that he might never interfere in the government. 
 All the Latin he would let hiui learn was this saying: 
 " Qui nescit dissimulare nesclt Tegnaref " He who 
 does not know how to deceive does not know how to 
 reign." But the boy probably soon forgot it, for 
 he seems to have been truthful, though he never 
 
CHARLES VIII. LOUIS XII. 155 
 
 learned much that was worth knowhig about govern- 
 ing. His sister, Lady Anne de Beaujeu, who had been 
 made regent, was a very able woman ; spirited, but 
 not self-willed, and knowing how to yield gracefully 
 when it became necessary. 
 
 The States-General, assembled soon after the death 
 of the late king, made a touching statement of the 
 woes of the poor. 
 
 " During the last four years," they said, " the King's 
 troops have been continually passing and repassing 
 through France, and living on the people. The poor 
 peasant must pay for the man who beats him, who 
 carries off his property, who turns him out of his 
 house. When the poor man has, by the sale of the 
 clothes off his back, managed to pay his tax, then comes 
 a new troop of soldiers, eating up and destroying the 
 little provision he has left, and, not satisfied with 
 what they find in his wretched hut, compelling him, 
 with many blows, to go to the towns to seek for lux- 
 uries for them, such as wine, fine white bread and 
 fish; so that, if God did not comfort the poor man, he 
 would utterly dispair. In Normandy, a countless 
 multitude have died of hunger; others have killed 
 their wives, their children and themselves, and others, 
 fearing that if seen in the day-time they will be seized 
 for not having paid their tax, are compelled to work 
 at nio-ht." 
 
 What a dreary picture of want and suffering ! 
 But it made little impression on the court people, who 
 must have their splendid houses and furniture, their 
 gorgeous dress and equipages, their almost countless 
 servants and costly pleasures. The Lady x\nne and 
 
156 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 her council received the petitions most graciously, 
 and promised that the matter should be looked into; 
 some trifling reforms were made, and then every thing 
 went on just as it had done before. 
 
 When Charles was twenty years old, his sister 
 thouo;ht that the best thing: he could do would be to 
 marry Anne of Brittany, a rich heiress, whose father 
 had lately died and left her that duchy. To be sure, 
 he was betrothed to the dauo;hter of Maximilian of 
 Austria, and Maximilian was already married by proxy 
 to Anne of Brittany, but such trifles made no diff"er- 
 ence, when a prize like this was in question. So 
 Charles marched into Brittany with an army and be- 
 sieged the city of Rennes, where the poor, deserted, 
 half-married Duchess was living. Backed by his army, 
 he won the day, and the Pope granted Anne a divorce 
 from her distant and apparently indifferent husband. 
 
 Maximilian was very angry, for he had received a 
 double insult, through his betrothed daughter and his 
 betrothed wife; but the state of his afi'airs not allowing 
 him to go to war with Charles, he made no trouble 
 about it. He took back his daughter, who had been 
 living in France ever since she was two years old, and 
 Avas consoled not long afterward by being elected Em- 
 peror of Germany. 
 
 When Charles was married he did not even know 
 how to read. He soon learned, however, for he felt 
 ashamed of his ignorance; and as he was of a roman- 
 tic turn of mind, he spent his time in poring over 
 stories which told of the wonderful adventures met with 
 by knights of the olden time. This filling his head 
 with useless longings turned out to be a great injury 
 
CHARLES VIII. LOUIS XII. 157 
 
 to him and his country iu the end. Remembering an 
 old cUaim of his family to Naples, he determined to go 
 into Italy and conquer that country. He had no army 
 ready Ibr such an enterprise, and he was so poor that 
 he had to borrow money to start with; but his head was 
 full of wild visions of conquest, and sober reason was 
 the last thing he wished to listen to. So, disregarding 
 the advice of his sister and all his best friends, he set 
 out for Rome. He had not learned the lesson that 
 distant possessions are generally points of weakness, 
 instead of strength, to a nation. 
 
 The Pope at that time was Alexander the Sixth, 
 one of the most thoroughly wicked men who ever sat 
 in the chair of St. Peter. When Charles asked him 
 to bestow the kingdom of Naples upon him, he only 
 hesitated for fear that it might bring him into trouble; 
 not because it did not belong to either of them, nor 
 to him. But at length he consented ; Charles was 
 anointed with oil as holy as the blessing of such a 
 pope could make it, and prepared to continue his 
 journey. Before he left Rome, however, he and the 
 Pope fell out; his Holiness retired into his strong 
 castle of St. Angelo, and Charles allowed his soldiers 
 one day of free pillage in the city of Rome. 
 
 The soldiers being thus gratified, Charles kept on 
 his way to the south, and long before he reached 
 Naples, had the pleasure of hearing that the king and 
 his son had both run away. The King, who was an 
 atrociously bad man, was so hated by his people 
 that they made Charles as welcome as possible, and 
 entertained him with feasts and processions to his 
 heart's content. There were bonfires and illuminations 
 
158 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 and all sorts of brilliant shows, and the conqueror 
 wrote home that he had found "an earthly paradise." 
 
 While he had been idling away his time in Naples, 
 however, his enemies had been busily at work. A 
 league was formed to cut off the retreat of his army, 
 and he fought his way back into France, leaving only 
 a rather weak garrison in Naples to maintain the honor 
 and dignity of the French "conquest." Even this was not 
 to last long. As soon as Charles was fairly oat of sight, 
 the young King of Naples (for the old one had ended 
 his worthless life soon after .being driven out of his 
 kingdom), came back with the brave Gonsalvo de 
 Cordova, Ferdinand of Aragon's " Great Captain," to 
 help him, and made short work of the invaders. The 
 French garrison was soon forced to surrender, and a 
 fever broke out which carried off great numbers of 
 them. A mere fragment of the gallant army remained, 
 and were permitted to return unmolested to France. 
 
 After the King's return he led an idle, intemperate 
 life, neglecting all business of importance and giving 
 himself up to low pleasures. At length these too, 
 began to pall upon him, and for a change he proposed 
 to make a reform, beginning with himself. 
 
 At twenty-eight years old it is a little late to try 
 such a plan, when one's youth has been passed in 
 frivolity and dissipation, but Charles was quite in 
 earnest. He had read that his ancestor, St. Louis, 
 heard the complaints of the people, sitting under an 
 oak tree, so he found a tree for himself and invited 
 people to bring their causes before him. But he did 
 not live to show what he might have done in his new 
 state of mind. Going with the Queen one day to look 
 
CHARLES VIII. LOUIS XII. 159 
 
 at a game of tennis, they had to pass through a gallery 
 which had a very low door. Though he was short 
 of stature he hit his head against this, and felt a little 
 dizzv% but went on and watched the orame. In coming; 
 back to the palace, while he was jDassing through this 
 same gallery he suddenly lost consciousness; he was 
 laid down on a wretched straw mattress that happened 
 to be there, and in a few hours breathed his life away. 
 His kindness of heart had made those about him so 
 fond of him that all his faults were foro-otton. His 
 queen, Anne of Brittany, grieved wildly over his loss, 
 and one of his servants is said to have died of sorrow. 
 How easy it would have been for any King of France 
 in those days to make himself hero and saint for such 
 long-suffering and loyal subjects! 
 
 The Fifteenth Century was now coming to an end. 
 It was a great century — the turning point between the 
 old time and the new. In all the countries in the 
 world, before that time, there were no printed books and 
 only a few written ones; the Atlantic was not crossed 
 and America discovered until nearly the end of that 
 century, and it was only then that a very bold navi- 
 o-ator had ventured to coast around the continent of 
 Africa and so open a new sea-road to Asia and the 
 East Indies. 
 
 We think our nineteenth century a w^onderful one, 
 with its railroads, steamboats and telegraphs, its sun- 
 pictures, its immense advance in all the sciences, in- 
 cluding the science of free government. But when 
 we look far enough back to see the world as it was 
 before gunpowder was invented or the mariner's com- 
 pass brought into general use, and while printing was 
 
160 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 unknown, we get some idea of the darkness of the 
 centuries before the fifteenth, aud we see that the 
 coming of that era was somewhat like a surmise 
 which made our later discoveries possible. It was in 
 this age that France and Spain grew from groups of 
 petty states at war among themselves, into strong 
 kingdoms, having each a common interest — the pros- 
 perity and glory of the whole nation. England, too, 
 had seen the last of her great vassals, her Warwicks 
 and Buckinghams, who openly rebelled against and 
 defied their king. ]n short, we have now left behind 
 the Middle Ages, and are fairly launched upon the sea 
 of Modern History. 
 
 As Charles the Eighth left no children, the crown 
 fell to his cousin the Duke of Orleans, who now ascended 
 the throne under the title of Louis the Twelfth, His 
 life had up to this time been a hard one, for Louis the 
 Eleventh had forced him to marry his daughter Jeanne, 
 and he had been imprisoned by Anne of Beaujeu for 
 plots against her government.. But he had always 
 been popular w^ith the people. They loved him for 
 his name, for his manliness, and for his nobility of 
 character, before they found out that he Avas the people's 
 friend. When one of his generals advised some harsh 
 measures towards the enemies who had kept him so 
 long in prison, he answered " It does not become the 
 King of France to avenge the injuries of the Duke of 
 Orleans." This generous sentiment united all hearts 
 in his favor. From this time it may be said that he 
 had not an enemy in his own country — a new order of 
 thin2:s for a kino- of France. 
 
 His economy both in public and private affairs was 
 
CHARLES VIII. LOUIS XII. 161 
 
 so great that some people accused him of meanness. 
 When he heard this, he said, " I would rather have 
 my courtiers laugh at my saving than have my people 
 weep at my spending." He provided for the regular 
 payment and support of his army, so that they should 
 no longer live by plundering the people, and then made 
 pillage punishable with death. 
 
 When the States-General met, they gave him the 
 title of " Father of his Country," and surely no king 
 of France ever deserved it better. The one blot upon 
 his private character is his separation from Jeanne, the 
 unfortunate daughter of Louis the Eleventh, to whom 
 he had been married in his early youth. After obtain- 
 ing from the infamous Pope Alexander the Sixth a 
 divorce from her, he made use of his freedom to marry 
 Anne of Brittany, once more uniting that coveted 
 duchy to the Kingdom .of France. Anne was a woman 
 of remarkable purity and goodness, and the French 
 court, which had been noted for its dissipation and 
 wicked gayety, became a model of propriety. The 
 people could hardly get used to living under a king 
 who paid his debts and lowered the taxes of his own 
 accord; and it seemed to them as if the Golden Age 
 they had read of had come to them in reality. 
 
 But alas for the weakness of human nature! No 
 sooner was the kingdom established in such peace 
 and prosperity as had hardly been dreamed of since 
 the days of Saint Louis, than the demon of ambition 
 broke loose and whispered to him the fatal word 
 —Italy ! 
 
 We must recall the old imaginary claim to the 
 kingdom of Naples — that country bestowed first by a 
 
162 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 pope who had no right to give it, on Charles of Anjou, 
 who had no right to take it; given again by another 
 pope to Louis of Anjou, brother of Charles the Wise, 
 and since him vainly claimed by a succession of kings 
 and dukes — this same old prize was still before the 
 eyes of Louis the Twelfth, and he longed to stretch 
 forth his hand and grasp it. 
 
 With a well appointed army he marched south- 
 ward, on his way to take possession of the Duchy of 
 Milan, to which he also advanced some shadowy claim; 
 then proceeded to Naples, which had a king of its 
 own whom Ferdinand the Catholic, (King of Spain and 
 husband of Isabella,) was trjnng to drive out. A 
 shameful ao-reement was entered into betv^^een him 
 and Louis, that they should conquer Naples together 
 and then divide it between them. The Pope was 
 quite ready to do his part, and " bestowed'' the coun- 
 try on the two kings who wished to steal it, while the 
 rightful sovereign, being allowed to retire into France, 
 spent the rest of his days there in obscurity. 
 
 As soon as the prize was fairly theirs, the royal 
 wolves began to quarrel over it,- — the boundaries not 
 having been very carefully settled, — each trying to 
 get the lion's share. The Spanish General, Gonsalvo 
 de Cordova, and the hot climate together, were more 
 than a match for the French, and once more a few 
 stragglers, worn out with illness, were all that ever 
 reached France out of the gallant army who had gone 
 forth so bravely to fight for her. 
 
 It is impossible to relate here the plots and counter- 
 plots, the tricks and surprises, by which the various 
 sovereigns of Europe were constantly trying to outwit 
 
CHARLES nil. LOUIS XIL 163 
 
 each other, and which go by the name of diplomacy. 
 A few principal facts are all we have room for, and the 
 blank pla,ces must be left to be filled in by larger histo- 
 ries. 
 
 The warlike Pope Julius the Second had succeeded 
 Alexander the Sixth, and an agreement called the 
 League of Cambrai was made between him, Ferdinand 
 of Spain, the Emperor Maximilian and Louis of France, 
 against the Venetians, whose only fault was that they 
 were becoming too powerful and prosperous. Louis 
 defeated them in battle, and saw in imagination all the 
 north of Italy in his power. Next we hear of a "Holy 
 League " formed by the Pope with these very same 
 people against France. Then comes another invasion, 
 and more battles, and more losses and retreats, until 
 at last we find Louis, attacked on one side by his old 
 ally, Ferdinand of Spain and on the other by Henry 
 the Eighth of England, forced to stay at home and 
 defend his own territory. A battle w^as fought near 
 Terouenne between the French and English, which was 
 called by the latter " The Second Battle of the Spurs;" 
 not because, as at Courtrai, the spurs were picked up 
 by bushels on the field, but because the French used 
 them so vigorously in running away. Louis had now 
 at last had enough of war, and was glad to make peace. 
 Pity that he had ever broken it ! 
 
 Henry the Eighth had a gay young sister named 
 Mary, not yet sixteen years old, whom he had promised 
 to Charles of Austria, afterward the Emperor Charles 
 the Fifth. Besides this royal lover, the Princess Mary 
 had one of her own, the Duke of Suffolk, to whom she 
 was sincerely attached. But neither royal betrothal 
 
164 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 nor private affection could stand in the way when it 
 was for the interest of kings to make a change; and 
 the beautiful young girl was married to the man of 
 fifty-three, worn out before his time by the hardships 
 of war, and a martyr to gout. Louis naturally wanted 
 to make life agreeable to his young wife, and in doing 
 this did not remember that elderly people cannot change 
 all their habits suddenly without risking their health. 
 He had been used to dining (!) at eight in the morn- 
 ing; he now took his dinner at the newly-fashionable 
 hour of noon. His bed-time had, been six o'clock in 
 the evening; now he often stayed up till midnight, for 
 the balls and festivities in which the Queen delighted 
 were sometimes prolonged to that unseemly hour. 
 Just three months after the marriage-bells had rung out 
 so merrily at the entry of the English queen, they 
 tolled for the death of her husband. 
 
 No king had ever been so mourned in France since 
 the death of Louis the Ninth. The people's grief was 
 most sincere; they knew it was very unlikely they 
 should ever have another such sovereign. He had no 
 sons, and his daughter Claude had married her cousin, 
 Francis d'Angouleme, also descended from the first 
 Duke of Orleans. As there was no nearer male heir, 
 he now became King of France, under the title of 
 Francis the First. 
 
FRANCIS I., KING OF THE GENTLEMEN. 165 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FRANCIS I., THE KING OF THE GENTLEMEN.— 1515- 
 
 1547. 
 
 HAVE done the best I could for France," 
 said Louis the Twelfth on his death-bed, 
 " but that big boy D'Angouleme will spoil it 
 all." 
 
 The "big boy" was his son-in-law, Francis the 
 First; a tall, handsome, self-willed youth of twenty, 
 very much pleased to be a king, and so joyous in 
 temper and affable in his manners that he became 
 popular at once. 
 
 Francis soon had a brilliant court around him. It 
 did not take the nobles long to find out that instead 
 of the frugal ways of Louis XIL they were to have 
 all sorts of expensive amusements, and that the more 
 splendidly they were dressed the more welcome they 
 would be; so money was spent like water. The King, 
 who was a perfect specimen of physical beauty, was 
 fond of all kinds of games where strength and skill 
 were required, and these disposed him to martial 
 exercises. 
 
 His first thought when he found himself a king was, 
 natui-ally, of Italy, and in a few months he was on his 
 way there with an immense army. The bloody battle of 
 Marignano, the first in which he had ever been engaged, 
 was a great victory for the French. Francis fought 
 all day like a hero of romance, and at night lay down 
 for a little rest with his head on a cannon, disdaining 
 
166 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 a better couch than his meanest soldier had. Faint 
 with thirst, he asked for some water; but all that 
 could be found was tinged with blood, and he turned 
 away in horror. It was still the custom, though the 
 days of chivalry were past, for kings to make knights 
 on the battle-field of those who had fought most 
 bravely (always provided they were of " gentle blood "); 
 but before availing himself of this privilege, Francis 
 asked the brave Bayard, called the knight '"'• scms 
 peur et sans reproche^'' and already celebrated for 
 many victories, to confer the honor upon him. 
 
 "Sire," said Bayard, "the king who has been 
 anointed with oil sent down from Heaven, he who is 
 the eldest son of the Church, is already knight over all 
 other knights." " Make haste, friend Bayard," replied 
 the King, " don't stop to quote laws to me, but do as I 
 bid you." So he knelt down, and Bayard struck him 
 with the flat of his sword, saying, " May it avail as 
 much as if I were Roland or Oliver, Geoifrey or Bald- 
 win ; please God that in war you may never take flight! " 
 Then he plunged his sword into the sheath, declaring 
 that it should never be put to any meaner use. 
 
 Once more the reigning family was driven out of 
 Milan. Two treaties of peace followed this short but 
 brilliant campaign; one with the Swiss, who had been 
 helping the Milanese, was called the "Perpetual 
 Peace," and deserved its name better than many 
 others so called, as it continued down to the French 
 Revolution, (a period of two hundred and seventy-five 
 years); the other, called a " Concordat," was an agree- 
 ment with Pope Leo the Tenth, by which Francis 
 gave up certain established rights, much to the 
 
FRANCIS /., KING OF THE GENTLEMEN. 167 
 
 indignation of the people of France, who saw in 
 this a direct attack upon their liberties. But the 
 people of France had to get used to having 
 their liberties cut off; from this time the laws were 
 made accordino- to the will of the kins^ alone, without 
 reference to the people's wishes, and they all ended 
 with the words, " for such is our good pleasure." 
 Taking away the power from the great vassals and 
 leaving it with the kino- had made France a united 
 and powerful nation; but in the hands of a king not 
 wise and good enough to put the people's happiness 
 before his own wishes, power became a dangerous 
 weapon and led to those frightful abuses which 
 brought on the terrible Revolution of 1789. 
 
 When a new emperor was to be elected for Ger- 
 many, Francis, Henry the Eighth of England, and 
 Charles the First of Spain, all strove for the position, 
 and finally Charles, who at nineteen was as crafty as a 
 man of fifty, succeeded in obtaining it, and was 
 crowned under the name of Charles the Fifth. Francis, 
 who had projiosed to Charles that whoever should be 
 defeated should bear the disappointment good-humor- 
 edly, forgot his fair speeches and hated Charles bitterly 
 for his good fortune. The rest of his life was as much 
 a lono" duel with his rival as had been that of Charles 
 the Bold with his enemy Louis twenty years before. 
 This time, however, the characters were reversed; it 
 was the King of France, and not his enemy, who was 
 rash, headlong and unlucky ; while the Emperor, in 
 his patient following out his own plans, and rising up 
 stronger after each reverse, reminds us of Louis the 
 Eleventh. 
 
168 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 The first thing to be done, as each party considered, 
 was to make friends with Henry the Eighth ; and 
 here, as usual, Charles was foremost in the race. While 
 Francis was making jDreparations to entertain Henry 
 at Calais in a style so splendid as to insure his good- 
 will, Charles quietly landed on the English coast with- 
 out invitation and made Henry a visit; and so great 
 was the effect of the Emperor's eloquence on this occa- 
 sion, that when the latter went to his appointed meet- 
 ing with Francis, his mind was already made up to 
 favor the other side. 
 
 The Field of the Cloth of Gold has been too often 
 described in English history to need more than a men- 
 tion here. Have we not all before our mind's eye that 
 gorgeous encampment near Calais, with its tents cov- 
 ered with silk and velvet and golden tissue, its stand- 
 ards glittering in the sun, its superb pavilions and 
 fountains runnino; with wine? Manv a noble sold his 
 forest or his castle to appear with honor in the gilded 
 field; and the money expended on the feasts and tour- 
 naments that filled up the eighteen days of revelry would 
 have kept the court of Louis the Twelfth for a year. 
 
 Francis and Henry were in excellent spirits. They 
 laughed and jested with each other, and the King of 
 France played some pretty rough practical jokes on his 
 brother of England, such as tripping him up at wrest- 
 ling, forcing his wa}^ into his tent before he was out of 
 bed, and so on; but they parted in good humor, Francis 
 feeling that he had shown off very well in the contest 
 of luxury, and Henry a little jealous of the superior, 
 splendor of the French court to his own, which was 
 almost hobnailed by comparison. 
 
FRANCIS 1., KING OF THE GENTLEMEN. 169 
 
 And what happened then ? Instead of going directly- 
 home to England across Dover Straits, which was his 
 nearest way, Brother Henry slipped round to Grave- 
 lines, a place in Fiarxders, which was a part of Charles's 
 dominions, and there had another private interview 
 with the Emperor ! 
 
 The anger of Francis when he learned of his failure 
 to gain over the king of England; was intense. He 
 instantly declared war against the Emperor, and sent 
 an army into Spain, which country Charles had inher- 
 ited from his grandfather Ferdinand; and when Charles 
 heard of it. he said: "God be praised that lam not the 
 one to begin the war; in a little while either I shall 
 be a very poor Emperor or he will be a poor King of 
 France." It was, indeed, a very poor King of France 
 that remained when his wars were over, as we shall 
 see. 
 
 The army left in Milan had been composed partly of 
 Swiss soldiers, who, being mercenaries, and there- 
 fore not entirely under the control of the French, 
 clamored constantly for their pay. This not being 
 forthcoming, they refused to remain; and the Pope 
 and the Emperor having combined their forces to 
 drive the French out of Italy, the duchy of Milan 
 was lost once more, for the third time within twenty 
 years. It was afterwards found out that Louise 
 of Savoy, the king's mother, who was one of the 
 worst women of her time, had kept for her own use 
 the money sent by the king to pay the Swiss soldiers. 
 The mischief done to France by this infamous woman 
 did not stop with her stealing the soldiers' j^ay. Her 
 next victim was the Constable of France, Charles, 
 
170 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Duke of Bourbon, who was the richest, haughtiest and 
 most powerful of all the king's subjects. When his 
 wife died, Louise of Savoy, who admired him very 
 much, wanted to marry him, and let him know it; he 
 refused disdainfully, and from that moment she became 
 his most bitter enemy, and induced Francis to take 
 such measures against him that he formed the desper- 
 ate resolution of going over to the Emperor, and 
 did so. 
 
 It was ao^reed that there should be a threefold attack 
 upon France, Bourbon invading it from the side of 
 Germany, Charles from Spain, and Henry of England 
 through Normandy. Besides this, the Duke was to 
 have an independent kingdom made for himself out of 
 Provence and Dauphiny, and was to marry the 
 Emperor's sister, Eleanor. 
 
 Francis, in spite of these adverse circumstances, still 
 clung to his darling plan, and again sent an armj'- into 
 Italy. After much valuable time had been trifled 
 away, a battle was fought, in which the heroic Bayard 
 received his death-wound. His troops were flying in 
 every direction, but he would not be carried away. 
 He made his men place him at the foot of a tree with 
 his face to the enemy, and there calmly waited for 
 death, which he knew could not be far off. The Duke 
 of Bourbon, in hot pursuit of the flying foe, rode up to 
 where Bayard lay and said a few words of respect and 
 sympathy. " Don't mourn forme," answered Bayard; 
 " I die in the discharge of my duty. It is you who are 
 to be pitied, for being false to your king, your coun- 
 try and your oath." Bourbon retired without a word, 
 and in three hours the knight without fear and without 
 
FBANCIS I., KING OF THE GENTLEMEN. 171 
 
 reproach, breathed his lasr, honored and lamented 
 by friend and foe. 
 
 After this the traitor Bourbon tried to ruin his native 
 country by invading* the southern part with an army 
 of foreign soldiers; but the Spaniards despised him as 
 much as the English are said to have despised Bene- 
 dict Arnold in our own Revolution, and did not give 
 him any hearty support. They slighted his advice, and 
 would not let him carry out his plans; his army made 
 an inglorious retreat, and he was forced back into 
 Italy almost alone. 
 
 A story is told which shows what the best men in 
 Spain thought of him. While he was there, Charles 
 the Fifth asked the Marquis de Villena to receive 
 Bourbon into his castle as a guest during his stay in 
 Madrid. " I can refuse the king nothing," replied the 
 Marquis; "but as soon as the traitor is out of the 
 house I will set fire to it with my own hand. No man 
 of honor could ever live in it again." 
 
 Once more did Francis rush madly into Italy at the 
 head of an army, where the memorable battle of Pa via 
 put an end for a time to his schemes of ambition. He 
 was taken prisoner and carried to Madrid, where 
 Charles kept him closely confined for many months. It 
 was after this battle that he wrote the well-known let- 
 ter to his mother in which he says there is nothing left 
 to him but his honor and his life. A long imprisonment 
 wore upon his spirits, and he finally signed a treaty 
 which did little credit to his " honor." He promised 
 to give up to Charles the countries of Burgundy, Flan- 
 ders and Artois, to renounce his Italian claims, and to 
 restore all the possessions of the Duke of Bourbon. 
 
172 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 To insure Francis's fulfillment of his part of the treaty, 
 his two sons, six and eight years old, were to be sent 
 to Spain as hostages. 
 
 In the middle of the river Bidassoa, which for a short 
 distance divides France from Spain, a large ship was 
 anchored, which had the princes on board. King Fran- 
 cis was rowed out to this ship in a small boat; the boys 
 knelt down very prettily before their father, who laid 
 a hand on the head of each and said, "God bless you, 
 my children; " then the little fellows were put into the 
 small boat and rowed over to the Spanish side of the 
 river, while King Francis was taken to the French 
 side. There he found a fine horse standing ready, 
 saddled and bridled; he leaped on its back, exclaim- 
 ing, "Now I am again a king! " and putting spurs to 
 his steed, he rode ofi^ on a full gallop to his own city 
 of Bayonne, where his mother and sister were waiting 
 for him. 
 
 Humiliating as the agreement was by which Francis 
 had gained his freedom, we should think better of 
 him if he had kept his word like a man and a gentle- 
 man, and performed what he promised. This, how- 
 ever, he never meant to do; but pretending that the 
 treaty had been signed through compulsion, he utterly 
 refused to fulfill it. 
 
 Charles was naturally very angry when he found how 
 he had been cheated, calling Francis several uncom- 
 plimentary names, like coward and scoundrel, and de- 
 manding that if he had any respect for his plighted 
 word as a knight and a king he should return and give 
 himself up according to promise. Francis paid no 
 attention to this summons, but made another so-called 
 
FRANCIS /., KING OF THE GENTLEMEN. 173 
 
 " Holy League " with the Pope and Henry the Eighth, 
 who were both disgusted with Charles for different 
 reasons, and ready to join any thing or any body who 
 would help them to injure him. 
 
 So the war went on for some years more, nothing- 
 happening of great importance. Francis was given 
 up to pleasure and spent his time with worthless favor- 
 ites, while his generals were losing ground on every 
 side and his sons were still prisoners in Madrid. Bour- 
 bon was killed while leading his army against the city 
 of Rome, and at length, after much useless bloodshed, 
 Charles and Francis agreed to make peace. As neither 
 of them cared to meet face to face again, the Emperor 
 sent his aunt, Margaret of Austria,^ and Francis sent 
 his mother, Louise, to Cambrai, and there these two 
 clever women got up an agreement which was called 
 " The Ladies' Peace," which answered its purpose 
 quite as well as a Gentlemen's Peace would have done, 
 if not better. Charles agreed to take two millions of 
 crowns instead of Burgundy; Francis, (whose queen 
 had died before the battle of Pavia), was to marry the 
 Emperor's sister Eleanor, and the little princes, after 
 four years of captivity, were to return to their native 
 land. In addition to this, Francis was once more to 
 renounce all claim to Italy, and give up Flanders and 
 Artois to the Emperor. 
 
 We can not relate all the moves of the long game 
 played by these two unprincipled men. In a few years 
 Francis again invades Italy to get back Milan ; Charles, 
 furious at the breach of faith, and vowing that he will 
 bring the King of France as low as the poorest gentle- 
 man in his dominions, marches with an army into 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Provence; that beautiful country is laid waste ; the 
 inhabitants die or retreat to the mountains; then on 
 the other hand, famine thins out the ranks of the 
 Spanish soldiers, and Charles gets back into' his own 
 country with about half the numbers he started with. 
 At last the Pope offers to mediate between the angry 
 sovereigns, and succeeded so well that Charles makes 
 a visit to Francis, as he crosses France from the Pyr- 
 enees to Flanders. 
 
 It was during this visit of the Emperor Charles that 
 the court-jester remarked to Francis that he had made 
 a list of all the fools in France, and had written the 
 Emperor's name at the head of it. "And what should 
 you say " inquired the king, " if I should let him get 
 away safely?" "I should rub out his name and put 
 yours in its place," was the reply. 
 
 We fancy that Francis felt somewhat tempted, but 
 if so he resisted the temptation, and Charles arrived at 
 his own dominions in safety. As soon as he was fairly 
 out of the country however, the French king was angry 
 with himself for letting all the generosity be on his 
 side, and began making new plans for war. His next 
 step was a strange one for the descendant of St. Louis. 
 He cared so much more for hurting Charles than he 
 did for the Christian religion that he formed a friend- 
 ship with the Turkish Sultan, and actually sent a fleet 
 to join him in invading Italy. The lilies of France 
 and the crescent of the infidel floated side by side from 
 the mast-heads of their ships, and the pirate Barba- 
 rossa carried back with him to Constantinople fourteen 
 thousand Christian slaves, taken in this joint enter- 
 prise. 
 
FRANCIS /., KING OF THE GENTLEMEN. 175 
 
 The later years of Francis were disgraced by cruel 
 persecutions of the Protestants. He seemed possessed 
 of that strano-e idea so common anionic wicked men in 
 those times, that he could atone for his own sins by 
 burning heretics and subjecting them to the most cruel 
 tortures. He did not repent of his wasteful wars or 
 his falsehoods, for those he thoug-ht belono^ed to his 
 office as a king; but his private life had been as bad as 
 it could be, and the diseases brought on by his own 
 dissipation soured his temper and made him delight in 
 the pain felt by others. The joyous spirits of the 
 youth of twenty had long since gone. At fifty there 
 was left a morose old man, worn out before his time, 
 who sent out his orders to hano; and burn human be- 
 injxs with as much indifference as he would have crushed 
 a mosquito, and, unhappily, there were but too many 
 agents ready and glad to execute those orders. 
 
 It is pleasant to be able to turn from the gloomy 
 side of this picture to the advancement made at this 
 time in literature and art. Francis was fond of having 
 celebrated men about him, and invited the old Italian 
 painter, Leonardo da Vinci, to live at his court. 
 The sculptor Benvenuto Cellini also spent several 
 years in France, though, if we are to believe his own 
 report, Francis paid him more in promises of patronage 
 than in ffood ii^old coin. Men of intellect and learnino- 
 were welcomed by him, though his own chosen com- 
 panions were very different people. 
 
 The beautiful palaces of Fontainebleau and Saint 
 Germain, beside many smaller chateaux, still bear, 
 witness to his taste in architecture and the vast sums 
 he spent upon it. He founded a great institution 
 
176 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 called the Royal College, where people could be in- 
 structed without cost to themselves; and his general 
 patronage of learning and art gave him the title of 
 "Father of Letters and the Arts." The first half of 
 the sixteenth century is called the JRenaissance^ or new 
 birth of cultivation. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 he:n'rt II. FRANCIS II. — 1547-1560. 
 
 T is sometimes asked: " Why do you make 
 the history of a country only a biography of 
 the lives of its kings ? " In writing of France 
 it is difficult to do anything else, for there was scarcely 
 any national life separate from that of the king. 
 Though there might be thousands wiser, better, more 
 able than he, the principle of loyalty in the hearts of 
 the French continued so strong that it is only after 
 many centuries of misgovern ment that we find them 
 waking up to the idea that there is one thing in the 
 world better than even a good king, and that is, no 
 king at all, only a just government founded on the 
 people's will. 
 
 If the only thing necessary to make a good king 
 were personal courage, and skill in riding on horse- 
 back, throwing lances and playing at tennis, Henry 
 the Second would have been an excellent one; but 
 if prudence, good judgment, and a desire for the wel- 
 fare of his people are required in addition, we must 
 
HENRY II. FRANCIS II. 177 
 
 own that he made a great failure. His father, Francis 
 the First, in dying, had cautioned him especially about 
 three things. He begged of him to lessen the taxes, 
 not to recall the constable Montmorenci, who had been 
 banished, and to beware of the family of Guise, who 
 were already too powerful and too ambitious to be safe 
 sul)jects for a weak king. So Henry immediately sent 
 for Montmorenci, and almost the first service he em- 
 ployed him in was to punish most cruelly a rebellion 
 against an odious tax which pressed heavily on the 
 people; such was his way of carrjnng out his father's in- 
 structions. The Guise family were soon in high favor, 
 and the foresight of Francis proved to have been in vain. 
 
 The tax spoken of was one on salt, called the gabelle, 
 first imposed by Philip of Valois. It was always hate- 
 ful to the French people because it made one of the 
 necessaries of life harder for the poor to buy. In these 
 days taxes are, or ought to be, laid mostly upon luxu- 
 ries, things which poor people can do without, and 
 which the rich can afford to pay for; but that idea had 
 not even bsen thouo-ht of three hundred years asfo. 
 A poor man eats as much salt as a rich man, so salt was 
 taxed. 
 
 Henry was like his father in being very fond of 
 pleasure, and in choosing to have a set of court favor- 
 ites about him, which included some very bad women. 
 The most noted of these was one called Diana of 
 Poitiers, who was fully twenty years older than him- 
 self, and had been also a favorite of his father's. For 
 her sake he neglected his wife, Catherine de' Medici,* 
 
 *De' is a contraction of the Italian del, meaning *' of the," the 
 Medici being a renowned Italian family. 
 12 
 
178 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 who made ujd for this after his death by taking the 
 government on herself in the reigns of he*r three sons. 
 
 It was not long before Henry was at war with his 
 father's old enemy, Charles the Fifth, who besieged 
 the fortress of Metz, which was gallantly defended by 
 the Duke of Guise. The Emperor had boasted that he 
 meant "to attack the place in such style as to knock 
 it about Mr. Guise's ears," and had sworn never to give 
 up until it was won; but the defence was so obstinate 
 that he broke his oath, and saying in a dismal way that 
 " Fortune, like the rest of her sex, favored the young 
 and slighted the old," went home very much mortified 
 and diso-usted. 
 
 Not lono; after this he retired from the world alto- 
 gether, leaving his country and his quarrels to his 
 son, Philip the Second, who soon had an opportunity 
 of retrievino- his father's diso;race at Metz. The battle 
 of St. Quentin, fought by his generals, was a glorious 
 victory for the Spaniards and an equally humiliating 
 defeat for the French, whose commander, Montmo- 
 renci, was taken prisoner in the action. 
 
 The Duke of Guise was now made Lieutenant- 
 General of the Kingdom, and looking about for some- 
 thing to do, he spied the town of Calais, which had 
 been in the possession of the English for more than two 
 hundred years. Philip of Spain, the husband of the 
 Queen of England, had persuaded her to join him in 
 the war against France, and Calais was therefore a fair 
 point of attack. 
 
 This place was of such immense strength that it had 
 taken Edward the Third eleven months of hard work , 
 to conquer it; the Duke of Guise retook it in just eight 
 
HENRY II. FRANCIS II. 179 
 
 days! You can imagine the rage of the English, and 
 the despair of Queen Mary, through whose folly the 
 loss had taken place. She declared that when she 
 died the word "Calais" would be found graven on 
 her heart. No wonder the Duke of Guise should 
 have been thought the greatest man in France. The 
 national pride which he had flattered so strongly made 
 him its idol, and the marriage of his niece, Mary, 
 Queen of Scots, to the Dauphin, which took place in 
 the same year, added, if possible, to his power and 
 influence. Nothing of importance was done without 
 consulting him, and his family were advanced to the 
 highest positions of honor. 
 
 Philip the Second, finding that he could get no more 
 help from England, decided to make peace, and a 
 treaty was signed at Cateau-Cambresis, which was 
 highly advantageous to him. To cement this peace, a 
 marriage was agreed upon between Philip (Queen 
 Mary of England being dead) and Henry's daughter, 
 Elizabeth; and at the same time that this wedding was 
 celebrated,. Henry's sister. Marguerite, was married to 
 the Duke of Savoy, a great general, who had com- 
 manded Philip's armies at the battle of St. Quentin. 
 King Henry was extravagantly fond of tournaments, 
 at which he always made a good figure, being very 
 skillful with the lance; so a remarkably splendid one 
 was held on this occasion. The Kino; havino; run sev- 
 eral courses with difi'erent knights, who took care to 
 give him the advantage, challenged a Scottish lord in 
 his service, the Count of Montgomery, to run a tilt 
 with him. The Count was extremely unwilling, but the 
 King insisted, and the soldier was obliged to comply. 
 
180 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 When they met, riding at full speed toward each 
 other, the Scotchman's lance broke against the king's 
 helmet, and a splinter from it went into his eye. He 
 fell back senseless, for the wood had penetrated to his 
 brain; and after lingering for eleven days in great 
 suffering, but unconscious, he died, little regretted by 
 anyone. 
 
 Though we have said nothino; about the Reforma- 
 tion during the reign of Henry the Second, it must 
 not be thought that the interest in it was dying out. 
 On the contrary, in spite of the hangings and burnings 
 and persecutions of every sort, the number of Protest- 
 ants grew day by day, and embraced some of the chief 
 men in the kino-dom. The hio-hest in rank amona* 
 these was Antony de Bourbon, a descendant of St. 
 Louis, who had become king of Navarre by marrying 
 the queen of that countr\^, Jeanne d'Albret, who was 
 a niece of Francis the First. Encouraged by the 
 support of such men, the Reformers became bolder 
 and began to hold their meetings publicly, and to sing- 
 psalms as they marched through the streets. When 
 the treaty of Cateau-Carabresis was made, two Cardi- 
 nals who assisted at it added' a secret article promising 
 that the kings of France and Spain should unite in 
 putting down this heresy by every possible means; 
 and as we know what means were possible to such men, 
 we are not surprised to hear that they became hard- 
 ened in cruelty and taxed their ingenuity to invent 
 things that would cause greater suffering. During the 
 later years of Francis the First, the old fashion of 
 burning at the stake, dreadful as it was, did not satisfy 
 the persecutors. They had an arrangement by which 
 
HENRY II. FRANCIS II. 181 
 
 the people burned were let down into the fire and then 
 drawn up again, burning a little each time, but not 
 enough to destroy life until it had been repeated many 
 times. In the time of Henry his son there was not 
 even the relief of being taken away, but the victims 
 were suspended at some distance above the fire, and 
 there slowly roasted to death for several hours. 
 
 Of course it was only the poorer offenders who 
 suffered in this way; the great were beyond the reach 
 of the persecutors; but we should not expect that 
 such a body of people would long go on suffering 
 the helpless ones among them to be tortured and 
 killed on account of their relicrion. Before lono- 
 the Protestants became a political as well as a relig- 
 ious party, and France was plunged into all the horrors 
 of a civil war. 
 
 Henry the Second left four sons, of whom three, 
 Francis the Second, Charles the Ninth and Henry the 
 Third, became in succession kino:s of France. There 
 is scarcely anything pleasant to tell about the seven- 
 teen months' reign of Francis the Second. At the 
 time of his father's death there were two great parties 
 getting ready to give one another hard knocks wlien 
 the rifrlit time came. These were the Catholics, 
 with tlie Duke of Guise at their head, and the Protest- 
 ant Reformers, Avhose leaders were the King of 
 Navarre and his brother the Prince of Conde. From 
 this time we often hear the Reformers spoken of as 
 Huo'uenots. The meanino- of this word has not come 
 down to us, but it is believed to have come from a Ger- 
 man one, meaning, " Bound together by oath." 
 
 Francis the Second was a feeble youth of sixteen, 
 
182 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 entirely governed by his young wife, the fascinating 
 Mary, Qaeen of Scots. She in her turn did precisely 
 what her uncles, the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal 
 of Lorraine, told her to do. There was one thino- in 
 which all these worthy Roman Catholics agreed, which 
 was that there was nothing: in the world so delio-htfnl 
 as the destruction of heretics. It seemed as if the sole 
 business of the rulers was to get rid of these dreadfnl 
 pests as fast as possible, and the more cruelly the 
 better. So, neglecting everything else, they began 
 to persecute. A special court was organized which 
 the people called "the burning chamber," because 
 almost its only business was to condemn heretics 
 to the flames. The young king was made to pass a 
 law orderino- that all houses where the Reformed 
 worship was known to take place, should be pulled 
 down. The good work went bravely on — such work 
 as brings tears to our eyes even now, after three hun- 
 dred years have passed away. 
 
 After a while these dreadful deeds began to shock 
 the better class of people, whether they were Protes- 
 tants or not, and the haughtiness of the Guises disgust- 
 ed even those who saw nothing wrong in their perse- 
 cutions. The frightful extravagance of the court-people, 
 who were in the habit of buying everything they 
 wanted but not paying for it, created discontent 
 among tradesmen, and the palace itself was crowded 
 with those who came to beg that the king and queen 
 would pay for the fine things they had ordered and 
 were using. 
 
 Royalty could not endure an insult like this, and 
 the Cardinal of Lorraine wrote an order, which he 
 
HENRY II. FRANCIS II. 183 
 
 caused the king' to sign, that any one who dared to 
 present a bill or ask for the payment of a debt, should 
 go away or be hanged. To show that he meant what 
 he said, the Cardinal had a very high gallows set up 
 close to the palace of Fontainebleau, wdiere the King 
 was holdino; his court at that time. 
 
 This was too much even for people who were used 
 to tyranny, and some of the creditors who were 
 thus cheated out of their money applied secretly to 
 the Huguenots to help them. A party was formed of 
 the various classes who had causes of complaint, and, 
 as usual in France when things went wrong, there 
 was a loud cry for the States-General — the National 
 Legislature. 
 
 " States-General, indeed !" answered the court 
 party. " Do you want to make slaves of us? " Catherine 
 de' Medici wrote to her son-in-law, Philip of Spain, 
 that " these people wanted to reduce her to the condi- 
 tion of a maid-of-all-work by means of the said States." 
 So the estates were not assembled, the royal family 
 and the courtiers were relieved from the degrading 
 necessity of paying their debts, and the vulgar tyrants 
 who had desired it were told to go about their business. 
 
 Finding that peaceable means did not succeed, 
 some of the discontented formed a plot against the 
 government called the " Conspiracy of Amboise." 
 This was discovered, and then began the horrible 
 work of punishment. For a month there was nothing 
 heard of but hanofino;-. burning, drownino- and torturing. 
 It became a kind of festival for the court, and other 
 amusements were put off that the lords and ladies 
 might enjoy the hideous spectacles. Stakes, gibbets, 
 
184 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 and other instruments of suffering, were erected in 
 front of the windows of the banqueting-hall, and 
 after dinner the executions took place while the com- 
 pany crowded the windows and balconies to get a good 
 view. Rows of hooks were fastened high up on the 
 palace wall, and on these the bodies were hung for 
 days together, to be in sight of every one, — to gratify 
 the revenge of the triumphant party and strike terror 
 into the hearts of the defeated. 
 
 How lono: these horrible scenes mio-ht have srone on 
 it is difficult to say, but just as the Catholic party had 
 got the King of Navarre and the Pjince of Conde into 
 their hands, King Francis died quite suddenly, and the 
 Bourbons were spared. The King of Navarre prom- 
 ised not to claim the regency, and Conde, who had 
 been condemned to death, was set free. Catherine, 
 the Queen-Mother, took the occasion of her son's death 
 to have herself appointed regent for his brother, Charles 
 the Ninth, who was only ten years old. She made 
 friends of the Huguenot leaders by giving them some- 
 thing to do in the srovernment, and called the States- 
 General together, allowing them to make some very 
 wise laws, among which was one that no more people 
 should be persecuted for their religion. 
 
 It seemed at last as if poor, distracted France was 
 about to enjoy a little peace, but bigotry on one side 
 and fanatic-sm on the other made this impossible. The 
 Catholic party called the Queen a traitor to her relig- 
 ion, because she wanted the heretics let alone; the 
 Huguenots, as soon as they found themselves free to 
 worship as they pleased, began to interfere with other 
 people's ways of worship, and went about destroying 
 
HENRY II. FRANCIS 11. 185 
 
 tlie images in the cluirclios, knocking down the crosses, 
 aud profaning such things as their enemies considered 
 most sacred. When suoli folly as this was practised, 
 you need not be surprised that the result was a general 
 war. 
 
 The first outbreak was at the town of Vassy. The 
 Duke of Guise, with a troop of me)i-at-arins at his back, 
 halted at this place one Sunday, and, as he passed by a 
 barn, heard a Hu<>'uehot conn;rei>ation there at their 
 devotions. The soldiers attacked the worshippers and 
 tried to disperse them. They defended themselves by 
 throwing stones, one of which hit the Duke on the 
 cheek. At this the soldiers became furious, and fired 
 upon the Huguenots, killing sixty and wounding nearly 
 two hundred more. This is called " The Massacre of 
 Vassy," and was the beginning of a civil war which 
 lastetl more than thirty years. 
 
 Without going into all the particulars of the long 
 struggle that followed, you should know what became 
 of some of the early leaders in the strife. The King 
 of Navarre, Antony de Bourbon, a weak creature who 
 had been persuaded to go over to the Catholic side, 
 was killed at the siege of Rouen. It is said that before 
 he died he turned once more, and declared himself a 
 Protestant. The Duke of Guise was waylaid and shot 
 while ridino' about on horseback durinix the sicire of 
 Orleans, and the Prince of Cond(5, being taken prisoner 
 at the battle of Jarnac, was murdered in cold blood 
 after he had surrendered. 
 
 B\it though the leaders were gone, each left a son to 
 represent him in the contest that was yet to come. 
 These were Henry of Navarre, son of Antony, Henry 
 
186 HISTOEY OF FRANCE. 
 
 oi' r>oiirboii, son of the ri-inco oi" Coiido, wlio took his 
 fathoi-V title, ami lloiirv o( Guise, who became Duke 
 upon his father's tk^ith. To these may be added Henry 
 of N'alois, who was next brother of King- Charles the 
 Nintli, and afterward sueceeded him on the throne. 
 
 CHAPTER XX, 
 
 CHARLES IX. HENRY 111, 151)0-1580. 
 
 OR a time after the events already mentioned, 
 there was a hill in t he storm. Charles the Ninth, 
 always inconstant and unsteady, seemed to be 
 turnino- towards the side of the Huguenots. He permit- 
 ted tliem the free exercise of their relig-ion: he souiiht 
 the friendship of Protestant sovereigns, and encouraged 
 his brother, Henry of Anjou, to pay his addresses to 
 Queen Elizabeth of Eno-land. More than this, he 
 otVei'cd the hand of his youngest sister, Marguerite, to 
 Henry o( Navarre, and showed great lavor to the 
 Admiral Coligny, one of the most distinguished Hugue- 
 not leaders. 
 
 It is dldiciilt to tell at what time the idea of that 
 frightful massacre known as "St. Bartholomew," 
 entercil the mind of Catherine de' Medici. Some per- 
 sons think that she planned it several years before it 
 took place, at an interview with tlie Duke of Alva, 
 Philip the Second's persecuting general. Othere insii^t 
 that it was a sudden resolve, suggested by her hatreu 
 of Admiral Coiignv; but all a^Tce that it was her work. 
 
CHARLES IX. HENRY III. 187 
 
 Of nil the wicked women history speaks of, none have 
 been more false, more cruel, or more deadly in their 
 hatreds. Any one who stood in the way of her ambi- 
 tion, or had excited her anger, was sure to disappear 
 from the scene, and her revenge was the more deadly 
 because it was always masked under a smile. 
 
 A very different woman from Catherine was Jeanne 
 d''Albret, mother of Henry of Navarre. From the 
 time he was born she took the whole charo-e of his edu- 
 cation upon herself, and did her best to make him 
 brave, truthful and patriotic. She was very much 
 afraid that he would be led away by the bad men and 
 women about Charles's court, but when an invitation 
 came for him to marry the beautiful princess Margaret, 
 she consented, thinking that perhaps this might bring- 
 about a peace between the Catholics and Protestants. 
 So they went together to Paris, all the bells rang for 
 joy, and great preparations were made for the festivi- 
 ties. 
 
 A wedding ought to be a very gay affair, everybody 
 having anything to do with it feeling happy and con- 
 tented; but the marriage of Henry of Navarre- and 
 Marguerite of Valois was not one of that sort. The 
 Catholics were enraged that the King's sister should 
 be given to a heretic; the Protestants dreaded to have 
 their chief entangled with a family so false and treach- 
 erous that their caresses were generally the prelude to 
 some deadly mischief. All was anger and confusion. 
 
 The Queen of Navarre, who had come to Paris to 
 al^nd her son's wedding, died suddenly in the midst 
 of the preparations. At the time there was but 
 one explanation — poison! Catherine de' Medici had 
 
188 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 presented her with a pair of gloves prepared expressly by 
 the court perfumer, (whom the people called in private 
 " The Queen's Poisoner,") and it was taken for granted 
 that the unseen death was conveyed in them. How 
 much truth there was in this notion we cannot now 
 decide; but it threw a gloom over the Huguenots that 
 not all the gorgeous wedding-finery could drive away. 
 
 The marriage took place in front of the great Cathe- 
 dral of Notre Dame, where a platform was built, and 
 the ceremony was performed in the open air. Nobody 
 had asked Marguerite whether she wanted to be mar- 
 ried or not, and it happened she did not, at least to this 
 particular bridegroom; and when she was asked if she 
 would have this man for her wedded husband she made 
 no answer. Her brother. King Charles, who stood by 
 her, noticed this; and as it would never have done to 
 have the performance stop there, he pushed her head 
 down rather roughly with his hand, to make it appear 
 that she nodded assent. Afterward she went into the 
 church to hear mass, while Henry and his friends 
 walked about outside until it was finished. 
 
 While everything was going on to make the Hugue- 
 nots feel perfectly secure, the Queen-Mother was hold- 
 ino; dark conferences with her ministers and with her 
 favorite son, Henry of Anjou. He was just as wicked 
 as herself, though much weaker; and she could talk 
 with him about things that poor unsteady Charles was 
 afraid to hear. 
 
 Among them all they planned to have every Hugue- 
 not in Paris, and as many as possible in the rest of 
 France, killed in one night. The twenty-fourth of 
 August, which is known as St. Bartholomew's day, 
 
CHARLES IX. HENRY HI. 189 
 
 was the one selected. It was just six days after the 
 wedding, and the city was still full of Protestants 
 who had come to have their share of the gayety. For 
 some reason not now understood, Catherine could not 
 wait for the general massacre to dispose of the 
 Admiral Coligny, but hired an assassin to shoot him 
 as he was walking along the street. The ball only 
 took off some finsrers and lodo-ed in his arm. He 
 quietly pointed out the house from which the shot 
 came, went home and sent for the king. Charles was 
 nearly distracted. His mother had worked upon all 
 his worst passions until he had learned to feel pleas- 
 ure in what was evil, but he was drawn towards the 
 Admiral by sincere admiration and respect. He did 
 not know what to do. He blustered a little, assured his 
 friend of his love and sympathy'-, swore to take a ter- 
 rible revenge for the act — and then went home to be 
 bullied by his mother into signing the order for the 
 massacre of St. Bartholemew. 
 
 It was not without a fearful struo-g-le with himself 
 that the weak young man yielded. He would have 
 been fflad to a:et out of it altoo;ether and leave the 
 responsibility to others; but this could not be. His 
 royal hand and seal were needed as a warrant for the 
 deed of shame. When the friends who surrounded 
 him had at last wruno- from him an unwillino- con- 
 sent, he became desperate, and exclaimed, "Kill 
 them all! Let not one live to reproach me!" 
 
 On the twenty-fourth of August, in the year 1572, 
 the great bell of a church called St. Germain I'Auxer- 
 rois rung out at two hours after midnight. All was 
 ready. Every steeple in the capital instantly repeated 
 
190 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the signal; lights streamed out from the windows, and 
 the assassins set forth, armed to the teeth for the 
 attack. They wore white crosses in their hats and a 
 white scarf on the left arm, that they might not by 
 mistake kill each other. They did not mean that one 
 Protestant should be left alive that night in Paris. 
 
 The Admiral Ooligny was the first to die. The 
 Duke of Guise, to make sure of him, went himself to 
 his house and sent up a servant to murder the old man 
 in. his bed. Guise remained in the street until the 
 body was thrown down to him. Then he turned it 
 over with his foot to see if it were really his hated 
 enemy, and, being satisfied, went off to carry on the 
 work elsewhere. 
 
 The streets were soon filled with the flying Hugue- 
 nots, and the whole city became a scene of the wildest 
 excitement. The queen and her attendants watched 
 it from the palace windows; the king, maddened by 
 the sight, stood on a balcony and fired on the wretched 
 fugitives as they ran. He appeared like a madman; 
 it seemed that, like the tiger, having once tasted blood 
 he could not be satisfied. All the Huo-nenot servants 
 about the court were slaughtered with the rest, except 
 Charles's old nurse and his physician, whom he saved. 
 The King of Navarre and his cousin, the Prince of 
 Conde, in order to save their lives professed to give 
 up their religion. They promised to become Catho- 
 lics, and, as long as they remained in Paris, attended 
 mass and went throuo-h the outward forms of that 
 religion. After many months they succeeded in mak- 
 ing their escape, and were then again Protestants as 
 before. 
 
CHARLES IX. HENRY III. 191 
 
 It was not in Paris alone that such scenes were 
 witnessed. All through France an effort was made to 
 make thorough work of the heretics, and immense 
 numbers were killed in the large cities. The most 
 moderate historians estimate the whole number at 
 from twenty-five to thirty thousand. 
 
 Charles was now anxious to justify this odious 
 crime in the eyes of the world, so he called his parlia- 
 ment together and proceeded to hold a " bed of justice"* 
 about it. The members were base enou2:h to flatter him 
 with praises of his prompt action against such dangerous 
 enemies; whereupon he sent round messengers with 
 the ncAvs to his brother kings and queens. Elizabeth 
 of England was so angry that she would scarcely treat 
 with civility the ambassador who was sent to apologize 
 for the massacre. The princes of Germany, both 
 Protestant and Catholic, shuddered with horror. The 
 Pope, (that wise Gregory the Thirteenth who gave us 
 the calendar by which we still count our days and 
 years,) wept in private over the dreadful story, though he 
 thought it necessary to order a public thanksgiving on 
 the occasion. Nobody really enjoyed hearing of it but 
 the grim Philip the Second of Spain, who considered 
 it one of the greatest blessings ever vouchsafed by 
 Heaven to a sinful world. 
 
 Charles the Ninth was not happy. A bloody spectre 
 seemed to pursue him wherever he went. He had 
 wild, disturbed dreams and anxious waking hours. 
 
 *This was the ceremony by which the French Kings required 
 the Parliaments to register their edicts, and was so called origi- 
 nally from the circumstance of the King's reclining on a couch 
 while the court was receiving his commands. 
 
192 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 He tried by violent exertion to work off the fever that 
 was devotiring him, and would ride furiously till he 
 dropped from his horse exhausted, or blow the horn 
 till his lungs were worn out. He had a forge set up 
 for himself and worked at it like a blacksmith; nothing 
 but bodily effort seemed to allay the restlessness of 
 his mind. 
 
 As his life drew near its close, the old visions came 
 to him again. He had no rest from the dreadful 
 thoughts that haunted him day and night. His bed- 
 clothes were often found soaked with blood, a natural 
 consequence of hemorrhages from the lungs, but which 
 the ignorant people of that time thought must come 
 either from poison or magic. He died at twenty-four 
 years of age. 
 
 Charles left no children, and the throne now passed 
 to his younger brother, Henry, Duke of Anjou, who 
 had been made king of Poland, and was living in that 
 country. Catherine sent for him to return at once, 
 which he did, very much to the disgust of the Poles, 
 who had to look up another king. It was nearly three 
 months, however, before his anxious subjects caught 
 sight of him, so much was he taken up by festivities at 
 the cities he stopped at on the way. When he came, 
 the French people were disappointed to find that he 
 cared nothing about governing, and preferred to pass 
 his time in rowing about on the river in a little painted 
 boat, or playing witli a basketful of puppies, which he 
 carried about* sluno- round his neck. 
 
 At the battles of Jarnac and Moncontour, where 
 the Huguenots were defeated, he had shown some 
 courage, and the people imagined they had in him a 
 
CHARLES IX. HENRY III. 193 
 
 warlike king like Francis the First; but his bravery 
 had all oozed out, and there was nothing left but a 
 poor creature who thought it fine sport to go to balls 
 dressed like a woman, or sing low songs and play low 
 antics among a set of companions as degraded as him- 
 self. He never appeared on horseback, but, when the 
 fancy happened to take him, might be seen walking 
 barefoot through the streets in a dress of sackcloth, 
 together with a company of his chosen companions, all 
 with whips in their hands, with which to lash one 
 another in the churches for their sins. These com- 
 rades, whom he called "mignons,"or darlings, were 
 the vilest young men who could be found in Paris, dis- 
 tinguished only for their wickedness. 
 
 When Henry of Navarre escaped from Paris, which 
 he did about two years after the great massacre, the 
 Huguenots gathered around him and took up arms 
 again. They were so sti-ong that Catherine and the 
 king thought it prudent once more to promise 
 them that they should be allowed perfect free- 
 dom of worship. This enraged the Guise party, who 
 thouo-ht it would have been better for the kino- to jrive 
 up his crown than to make peace with heretics. A 
 powerful party called the League was formed for the 
 purpose of opposing these measures, and soon became 
 the strono;est in the kinsfdom. The fact that the Pro- 
 testant Henry of Navarre, who was descended from 
 one of the sons of St. Louis, was heir to the throne in 
 case Henry the Third should die without children, 
 added an intense bitterness to the contest, and the 
 Leaguers were determined to fight it out to the end. 
 
 The poor, weak King now declared himself head of 
 o 
 
194 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the League, thinking that he might in this way gain a 
 little peace, but the intrigues of his enemies left him 
 no rest. Soon after this the battle of Coutras was 
 gained by Henry of Navarre, who showed himself to be 
 not only ?L brave soldier, but a skillful general and a 
 merciful victor. "Spare my Frenchmen!" he cried to 
 his soldiers when the battle had been won. "No 
 more blood!" And when he found his supper-table 
 set in the room where the dead body of Joyeuse, the 
 Royalist commander, was laid out, he had the supper 
 removed to another room, and checked the noisy 
 gayety of his officers, who were making merry in the 
 presence of death. " Gentlemen," said he, "it seems 
 to me this is a time for grief, even to the conquerors." 
 His own loss, owing to his good generalship, was only 
 about forty men; that of his enemies twenty-five 
 hundred. 
 
 And where was Henry the Third all this time? He 
 was not at the battle, being at a distance with another 
 division of his army; and after it we hear of him at 
 the city of Lyons, employed in a way which I will use 
 the words of De Thou, the best historian of that time, 
 to describe. 
 
 "As unconcerned as if his kingdom were enjoying 
 perfect peace, he took to collecting little dogs. Every- 
 body was surprised to see the King of France, in the 
 midst of so terrible a war and in extreme want of 
 money, expending upon such pleasures all his time 
 and all the money he could scrajje together. * * * 
 Without counting hunting-dogs and birds, which are 
 always a great expense in the households of kings, it 
 cost him every year more than a hundred thousand 
 
CHARLES IX. HENRY III. 195 
 
 gold crowns for these little Lyonnese clogs; and he 
 maintained at his court, with large salaries, a multi- 
 tude of men and women who had nothing to do but to 
 
 feed them." 
 
 No wonder that the Duchess of Montpensier, sister 
 
 of the Duke of Guise, carried about a pair of golden 
 scissors at her srirdle, boastinor that with them she would 
 give Brother Henry a third crown. He had already 
 worn those of France and Poland; she meant that she 
 would shave his head and make him a monk, after the 
 fashion of the old Merovino-ian times when a kino^ was 
 proved unworthy of his throne. 
 
 We next find King Henry back at Paris. The Duke 
 of Guise had been forbidden by him to come to that 
 city, but as the Duke of Guise cared nothing whatever 
 for King Henry's orders, he came nevertheless. The 
 populace were wild with joy, the king angry and help- 
 less. He sent for such of his soldiers as were wnthin 
 reach, and they entered Paris by night, hoping to take 
 the Leaguers by surprise, but the latter were prepared 
 for them. They had barricades, made of paving-stones, 
 carts and barrels, thrown up in the principal streets, 
 and chains drawn across the entrances ; the houses 
 were fortified as far as possible, and all the citizens 
 armed. The king's troops were attacked and forced 
 to surrender; the whole town was in a state of the 
 wildest confusion, and Henry at last sent a humble 
 message to the Duke, begging him to put a stop to the 
 fearful carnage that was going on in the streets. 
 
 The Duke played his part admirably. He had kept 
 quietly at home, letting others do the fighting and take 
 the blame; now he rode out among the furious mob, 
 
195 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 unarmed and with nothing but a riding-whip in his 
 hand, and the tumult ceased at once. The rao-in^r 
 multitude were quieted as if by magic; the streets 
 were cleared, and in a few hours all was peace. This 
 is known in history as the Day of the Barricades. 
 
 Burning with rage and shame at finding himself 
 thus at the mercy of his own subject, Henry resolved 
 on a cowardly crime that should free him forever from 
 this hated control. He armed nine of his own attend- 
 ants with dao-o-ers with which to take the Duke's life, 
 and stationed them in an ante-chamber leading to his 
 own room. He then sent for Guise to come to him, 
 and as the Duke was raising the portiere which covered 
 the door, the assassins fell upon him and stabbed him 
 to death. His immense strength enabled him to drag 
 himself across the room even after they had struck him 
 down, and ho fell dead at the foot of the king's bed. 
 
 Henry came out from a closet where he had been 
 waiting, and after making himself quite sure that there 
 was no life left in the majestic figure, kicked it to have 
 a last revenge. Then he went to his mother's room, 
 full of glee. " I feel much better to-day," he said. " I 
 am King of France again; the king of Paris is dead." 
 " God grant that you may not prove to be king of 
 nothing at all," answered the more prudent Catherine, 
 whom he had not consulted about the murder. "I 
 hope the cutting is right; now for the sewing." 
 
 The sewing did not turn out well at all. If Henry 
 hoped by the death of his rival to have a time of quiet 
 in which to enjoy the society of his dogs and his mon- 
 keys, he was bitterly mistaken. The Duke had left no 
 son old enough to take up his quarrel, but his brothers 
 
CHARLES IX. HENRY III. 197 
 
 were now all-powerful, and a howl of execration went 
 up from the whole country against the author of this 
 detestable crime. He was excommunicated by the 
 pope, and bands of people went to the churches to 
 pray for his death. Deserted by even his own jDarty, 
 the king asked to see his brother-in-law, Henry of 
 Navarre, and begged for help. Henry joined him 
 very willingly, and they prepared to get together as 
 large an army as they could and to besiege Paris, which 
 was held by Guise's brother, the Duke of Mayenne. 
 
 Another strange and unexpected turn of Fortune's 
 wheel was now to come. Three days before the attack 
 on Paris, a young monk named Jacques Clement 
 gained admission to the king by meams of a forced 
 letter, and while he was reading it, stabbed him in the 
 body. Henry snatched the dagger from him and 
 struck at him, crying out — "Oh, the wicked monk! 
 He has killed me! Kill him! " and the attendants, rush- 
 ing in, dispatched Clement with their spears. 
 
 The king lived long enough to receive the sacra- 
 ment, declare that he pardoned his enemies, and call 
 the nobles around his bedside to take the oath of alle- 
 giance to Henry of Navarre. The reason for the mur- 
 der was never found out. As the Duke of Guise was 
 considered a martyr for the Catholic faith and revered 
 as a saint, the monk may have thought he was doino- 
 a service well-pleasing to God when he took ven- 
 geance on his murderer. On the other hand, many 
 persons suspected the Duchess of Montpensier of sug- 
 gesting the act, but as nothing could be ascertained, 
 the matter was soon forgotten in others of greater im- 
 portance. 
 
198 
 
 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 This, then, was the end of the family of Yalois, who 
 for more than two centuries and a half had occupied 
 the throne of France — (1328-1589). An unlucky race 
 they had been, their reigns, for the most part, full of 
 trouble and disappointment. Yet we must own that 
 they left France a much greater and more glorious coun- 
 try then the}' found it. They extended its territory and 
 made it compact and united, and many of them were 
 enlightened patrons of literature and the arts. Their 
 failings as a race were a too great love of show and 
 magnificence, a heartless grinding down of the poor 
 while they loaded the rich with favors, and a general 
 practice of despotism — that is, ruling according to 
 their own pleasure and by a so-called divine right, 
 w^ithout reference to the will' of the people. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 HENRY OF ISTAYAERE. 1589-1610. 
 
 S THE third Henry had died without children, 
 Henry of Navarre was now in fact Henry the 
 Fourth of France ; but five years of weary 
 fighting were to pass before he could even enter his 
 own capital. His being so distantly related to the late 
 kino- was ao-ainst him — he was only a seventeenth 
 cousin or something of that kind — but what was much 
 more against him was the fact of his being a Protest- 
 ant. A large proportion of the people of France were 
 
HENRY OF NAVARRE. 199 
 
 still good Catholics, and they could not bear the 
 thouo;ht of a heretic kino-. 
 
 Upon Henry's refusal to accept the Catholic faith as 
 his own, his soldiers deserted by thousands. Then he 
 made an agreement with some of the principal Catho- 
 lics promising to protect their religion, and that of- 
 fended the Huguenots. Moderation was just what 
 neither part}'- desired, so thoy began to fight, and 
 Plenry won the battles of Arques and Ivry. At the 
 latter he told his soldiers that if their banners went 
 down they must follow the white plume ho wore in his 
 hat, and it would lead them on to victory. There was a 
 victory, and a very glorious one, but it produced no 
 great results ; the Leaguers appeard as strong as ever. 
 Henry advanced with his army to besiege Paris. He 
 closed up all the approaches to the city, so that no 
 food could be sent into it except what he chose to 
 allow; the people held out with the greatest fortitude, 
 though nearl}"- starving; and just as it appeared certain 
 that this important place must fall into his hands, 
 Philip the Second of Spain sent his nephew, Alexander 
 Farnese, to its relief, and Henry was obliged to march 
 away. 
 
 The King of Spain, the mighty League and the Pope 
 all against him, and only Elizabeth of England on his 
 side, giving him some small help in money and troops — 
 ■what could Henry do? He did not see any way out 
 of the struggle. So much were both parties set against 
 him that scarcely a sixth part of the people of France 
 were with him. The same causes for which the war was 
 begun would continue to exist to the end, unless some 
 way were found to put a stop to the confusion. To add 
 
200 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 to his difBcultles, arrangements were made to oifer the 
 crown of France to Isabella, daughter of Philip of 
 Spain and niece of Henry the Third, if she would 
 marry a French prince — probably the Duke of Guise. 
 To allow this would have been at once to lay down his 
 crown, and Henry decided to take what he called "the 
 perilous leap." 
 
 He invited some of the most learned doctors of 
 divinity that could be found in France to instruct him 
 as to the Roman Catholic faith, and having listened to 
 their arguments one day from six in the morning until 
 noon, he professed himself completely satisfied of the 
 truth of what they said. The next Sunday he went in 
 great state to St. Denis, where he was received by the 
 archbishop, nine bishops and, a great company of other 
 clergymen. 
 
 "Who are you?" inquired the archbishop. "The 
 King." " What do you wish?" " To be received into 
 the bosom of the Roman Catholic church." " Do you 
 desire it?" "Yes, I desire it." After this dialogue, 
 Henry knelt before the altar and read the profession 
 of faith which had been agreed upon; the archbishop 
 blessed him and forgave all his sins, and the great roof 
 of the Cathedral echoed with cries of " Long live the 
 Kino-!"" For the first time in his life he was a king; 
 indeed. 
 
 We must not judge Henry too harshly in view of 
 this easy change in his faith. He was probably one 
 of those people who think one form of religion about 
 as good as another if you only live up to it, and had 
 never troubled himself to understand the doctrines on 
 either side. The Calvinists had treated him with great 
 
HENRY OF NAVARRE. 201 
 
 harshness, and it was perhaps natural for him to think 
 that their severe creed was a mistake. I think we may 
 acquit him of the charge of deliberate hypocrisy, and 
 rather set him down as a man who had very little reli- 
 gion of any kind, but a good deal of patriotism and an 
 intelligent love for his country. 
 
 It is hard to describe the character of Henry the 
 Fourth without seeming to exaggerate those good 
 qualities which have made him the idol of the French 
 people from his own day to this. Though he had some 
 great faults, they were not such as made his subjects 
 unhappy. His first thought was always not "Wlifit can 
 I do to make myself glorious?" but "What will be 
 best for my people?" 
 
 He had led a hard life for many years. Poor, sus- 
 pected, opposed at every turn, he had never known 
 the pleasures of prosperity. But misfortune could not 
 sour his sunny temper, and trouble made him only the 
 more tender-hearted and sympathetic. One of his 
 favorite sayings was, "I want every man in my king- 
 dom to have a fowl in his pot for Sunday;" which was 
 a generous wish at a time when the poor scarcely ever 
 tasted meat of any kind. 
 
 Henry started in life with a large share of common 
 sense and an overpowering energy. Adversity added 
 to these a great power of self-command and an unceas- 
 ing watchfulness, so that he was always on the lookout 
 for danger, and ready to take advantage of every 
 crumb that Fortune threw in his way. And when he 
 did brilliant things, like gaining the battle of Ivry, his 
 modesty was as remarkable as his jDatience under 
 misfortune had been. Ho never took the credit to 
 
202 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 himself for anything that was accomplished, or boasted 
 of the ereat thino-s he meant to do. Just before the 
 battle of x\.rques, a prisoner was taken who told him 
 of an immense force making ready to attack him. 
 "And where is your army?" asked this gentleman, 
 looking about him at the scanty forces which were all 
 that King Henry had been able to get together. " Oh, 
 you don't see them all," answered the King, laughing. 
 "You don't reckon the good God and the right, but 
 they are always with me." 
 
 Another quality very rare in a king who had met 
 with much opposition, was his forgiving temper. He 
 could hardly be persuaded to punish even those who 
 had ijnured him most seriously. More than once he 
 took such people into his service, treated them with 
 the utmost confidence, and turned them from enemies 
 into devoted friends. When an insurrection broke out, 
 instead of sending a marshal to drown it in blood, he 
 inquired into the grievances complained of, re- 
 dressed them as far as possible, and by his tact and 
 kindness changed the rebels into enthusiastic sup- 
 porters. 
 
 One more trait should be mentioned before passing 
 on to the incidents of Henry's reio;n, and that is his 
 perfect sincerity. In the early part of his century an 
 Italian called Machiavelli had written a book to show 
 that the most important thing for kings and queens to 
 learn is hypocrisy. The Machiavellian policy was 
 pursued by Philip the Second, by Catherine de' Medici, 
 and to some extent by Queen Elizabeth; and a mon- 
 arch who meant what he said and always spoke the 
 truth was for a long time such a puzzle to the rest 
 
HENRY OF NAVARRE. 203 
 
 of Europe that it baffled them as much as hypocrisy 
 would have done. 
 
 There has seldom been a king more out at elbo^vs 
 than was Henry the Fourth at the time of his corona- 
 tion. We hear vague whispers of mended clothes 
 and patched boots ; and it is stated on very good 
 authority that when he received his first ambassadors 
 he had to borrow a velvet coat that had belonged to 
 the dead king Henry to make a respectable appearance 
 in. The Leaguers had melted down the golden crown 
 of Charlemagne, which had been kept as a precious 
 relic for more than eight hundred years, so a new one 
 Avas made for him, with which he was crowned at 
 Chartres, Rheims being in possession of the enemy. 
 Soon after this the Duke of Mayenne quietly slipped 
 away from Paris, and King Henry entered it amidst 
 the wildest rejoicings. When the garrison of Spanish 
 soldiers marched out of the gates, the king stood by 
 and called out gaily, " Good-bye, gentlemen ; my 
 compliments to your master, but don't come here 
 ao;ain!" 
 
 Henry was very full of fun, and the only punish- 
 ment he ever inflicted on Mayenne for his five years 
 of stubborn opposition was a good-natured practical 
 joke. The Duke was immensely fat and walked very 
 little, being too unwieldy to do so with comfort. 
 When he visited the king for the first time, the latter 
 asked him to take a turn in the grounds with him. As 
 it would have been the height of ill-breeding to de- 
 cline such an invitation from his sovereign, Mayenne 
 complied, and Henry kept him walking about as fast 
 as he could for a long time, the poor duke puffing and 
 
204 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 panting after him, frightfully red in the face, and ready 
 to drop from exhaustion. 
 
 When it was plain that he could endure it no longer, 
 the king burst out laughing, and exclaimed, " There! 
 that's the only punishment you shall have for all the 
 trouble you've given me! " The Duke did his best to 
 get one knee on the ground, which would have been 
 the proper thing to do under the circumstances. He 
 couldn't quite accomplish it, but he assured his majesty 
 of his gratitude and devotion, and was a faithful sub- 
 ject ever after. It was of this Duke that one of the 
 popes said, in great disgust, that he spent more 
 hours at the dinner-table every day than Henry of 
 Navarre did in bed. 
 
 In 1598 a treaty was made with Philip II. of Spain, 
 called the Peace of Vervins, which insured tranquility 
 in that quarter;- but in the same year a far more impor- 
 tant State paper was issued by the king, called the 
 Edict of Nantes. This declared that from that time 
 onward both Huo^uenots and Catholics should have 
 equal rights in regard to the exercise of their religion, 
 and that the former should not be shut out from any 
 office, honor or dignity on account of their faith. They 
 were to have a court especially to protect their inter- 
 ests, and once in three years they might hold an assem- 
 bly to talk over their condition, and appeal to the king 
 to redress any grievances under which they still suf- 
 fered. 
 
 Unless we go back to the spirit of that narrow- 
 minded century and see what a new thing it was for 
 those in power to grant religious privileges to others, 
 we shall not understand what a great step was made 
 
HENRY OF NAVARBE. 205 
 
 in promoting freedom of thought by this act. The 
 Catholic party opposed it bitterly, but, as the king 
 coolly remarked to his Parliament, who hesitated about 
 registering the edict, " My will is reason enough for 
 you; when subjects are loyal, kings need give no 
 other." A fine sentiment if kings were perfect, and 
 which worked very well as long as Henry lived. After- 
 wards it bore bitter fruits, as we shall see. 
 
 All enemies, without and within thekin2:dom, beins: 
 at last quiet, Henry had full leisure to give attention 
 to the condition of his country. Unlike Louis the 
 Twelfth, he had no ambition to conquer foreign 
 countries; his one object was the happiness and pros- 
 perity of his own people. The year which witnessed 
 the Peace of Vervins and the Edict of Nantes saw 
 France in a state of great misery. In the forty years 
 that had passed since the death of Henry the Second, 
 eight hundred thousand of her inhabitants had been 
 killed and countless homes made desolate, and a vast 
 projDortion of those who remained were reduced to 
 beggary. 
 
 Agriculture was neglected, the treasury was empty 
 and the nation deeply in debt. The most shameless 
 stealing of the public revenues had been going on for 
 many years, enormous taxes being collected from the 
 people which never found their way into the national 
 purse, but were kept by the officers and great lords 
 who had collected them. Bridges were broken down, 
 great tracts of land laid waste, roads neglected and 
 overspread by marshes. Commerce had nearly died 
 out in the long struggle for existence. All had to be 
 beorun over ao;ain. 
 
206 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 King Henry, one of whose traits was an excellent 
 judgment in choosing his ministers, found in the Duke 
 of Sully the very man to carry out his ideas. This 
 nobleman was at the same time perfectly honest and a 
 great financial genius. He got rid of the middle-men 
 who devoured the hard earnings of the poor without 
 enriching the king, and caused the money to go 
 directly into the royal treasury. He abolished great- 
 numbers of useless offices, and forbade the nobles 
 and governors of provinces to raise taxes on their owa 
 account (as they had been in the habit of doing), 
 without consent of the King. One nobleman lost 
 sixty thousand francs a year out of his income by this 
 arrangement. 
 
 As all the money thus gained was expended with 
 the strictest economy, the effects soon began to show 
 themselves. Roads were made, bridges rebuilt, vast 
 tracts of marshy country drained, manufactures en- 
 couraged, and grapevines and mulberry trees planted 
 by millions. Several grand public buildings were begun 
 and others finished or added to at great expense, and 
 yet with all this, the public debt was paid, the taxes 
 gradually diminished, and a large sum left over in the 
 treasury at the king's death. 
 
 It was during the years of peace which followed, 
 that some enterprising Frenchmen, under the king's 
 liberal patronage, began to make settlements in 
 America. Jacques Cartier had sailed up the St. 
 Lawrence seventy years before, and various explorers 
 had followed him. In 1605 a settlement was made by 
 Frenchmen at Port Royal, in Nova Scotia; three years 
 afterward the brave Champlain laid the foundation 
 
HENRY OF NAVARRE. 207 
 
 of Quebec, and later in the century Pere Mar- 
 quette visited the spot on which Chicago now stands. 
 
 For a ions* time the kins: had been turnino; over in 
 his mind a plan by which all Christian Europe was to 
 be joined together in a confederacy against the Turks, 
 which confederacy was to be so arranged that no one 
 nation should be more powerful than any of the rest. 
 In order to carry out this "grand design," as it was 
 called, it was necessary first to bring down the pride 
 of Austria p,nd Spain, both. of which countries were 
 governed by different branches of the same family. 
 Henry, who had an immense sum of money laid up in 
 his treasury for this very purpose, soon raised a vast 
 army and easily found a pretext for invading the 
 dominions of his Roman Catholic neighbors. 
 
 Just as he was about to set out on his expedition, 
 his queen, who had ever since her marriage been 
 clamoring for her own coronation, once more brought 
 forward her request, and urged it so persistently 
 that Henry was, though unwillingly, induced to grant 
 it. The time was inconvenient; he was impatient to 
 start for the seat of war; he did not want to spend 
 the money needed for such a ceremony; he was not 
 very fond of his wife; but he was always weak where 
 women were concerned, and after she had worried him 
 into consenting he had the thing done in the grandest 
 style possible. 
 
 The next day he went to pay a visit to the Duke of 
 Sully, who was not very well. He was in low spirits 
 and had repeatedly said that he should be killed be- 
 fore he could get away. He was riding in a coach — 
 a great lumbering vehicle which he always hated — 
 
^08 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 with six gentlemen of his household and a few out- 
 riders, when the procession was stopped by some carts 
 in the street. The king happened to be reading a 
 letter at the time, and was leaning one arm on the 
 shoulder of the person next him. x\t this moment a 
 man named Francis Ravaillac stepped upon the carriage 
 wheel and plunged a knife twice into the King's breast. 
 After the first blow Henry murmured, " It 's nothing," 
 in his old fashion; the second cut an artery, and he 
 never spoke again. 
 
 Oh, the mourning that there was in France for the 
 King's death ! Sully describes the sobbing and cry- 
 ing, the groans, the mournful silence, the hands clasped 
 and raised to Heaven, that met him as he passed 
 through the streets when the news was told. In the 
 court, measures were hastily taken to preserve order by 
 holding a council and appointing the Queen regent 
 for her vouno- son; and in little more than two hours 
 after the knife of Ravaillac had entered Henry's heart, 
 the new government may be said to have been in ope- 
 ration. 
 
 Nobody was able to find out from Ravaillac why he 
 had killed the king. He was put to the most cruel 
 tortures, but denied to the last that anybody had 
 helped him or advised him to do it. It is probable 
 that he was a half- crazy Roman Catholic who did not 
 approve of Henry's mildness towards the Protestants, 
 and thought, like Jacques Clement, that he was doing 
 God service in killino^ a wicked sovereign. He was 
 put to death with the most horrible cruelty. 
 
 Though Henry the Great had, to all appearance, 
 everything that heart could wish, he was an unhappy 
 
HENRY OF NAVARRE. 209 
 
 man at the time of his death. I have said nothing to you 
 yet about his worst fault. The people he liked best to 
 be with were women of immoral character, for whose 
 society he neglected his wife and his best friends, and 
 who for the last few years of his life exercised an almost 
 unbounded influence over him. The queen, by such 
 means, had lost all affection for him, and is said to have 
 rejoiced at his death; the favorites themselves were 
 jealous, and each disliked the King for his attentions to 
 the others; the courtiers were eno-ao-ed in undio-nified 
 squabbles, the natural result of such a state of things; 
 and the king, watched and suspected by all, knew not 
 where to turn for comfort except to his faithful Sully, 
 who never failed him. 
 
 This great, wise, foolish King had one pleasure that 
 must have seemed very sweet to him in the midst of 
 the discords around him; he was very fond of his chil- 
 dren. One day when the stately ambassador from 
 Germany came to pay him a visit, he found the King 
 on all-fours on the floor, with one of his children on 
 his back. The others were playing about the room. 
 "Are you a father?" inquiFed Henry, looking up. 
 " Yes, Sire." " Then we will finish our game," ans- 
 wered the King, and finish it they did, very much to 
 the surprise of the dignified minister. 
 14 
 
210 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 LOUIS XIII. 1610—1643. 
 
 jHE new king, Louis the Thirteenth, was a 
 spoiled child of nine years old, and had a 
 weak, unprincipled mother, who was herself 
 o-overned by low favorites, the principal of whom were 
 an Italian named Concini and his wife. Sully soon 
 found that his advice went for nothing under the new 
 management, and retired to the country, and then 
 everything slipped back into its old bad way. 
 
 " The age of the kings is past," was a saying among 
 the nobles, and they began to tyrannize over the people 
 and tax them for their own benefit just as they had 
 done before. Concini had been made prime minister 
 and afterward marshal. It is remarked by a brilliant 
 modern writer that as long as he continued to share 
 with the nobles the money left in the king's coifers by 
 Sully, they submitted quite tamely to his walking over 
 them; but when the treasury was empty they suddenly 
 discovered that a low-born Italian had no right to rule 
 France, and began to lay plans to destroy him. 
 
 The queen-mother was a bigoted Roman Catholic, 
 and the main object of her policy was to keep on 
 friendly terms with Spain. To this end a double mar- 
 riage was arranged. Her daughter Elizabeth, (which 
 is the same name as the Spanish Isabella), was to 
 marry the son of Philip the Third, and her son Louis 
 was to take for his bride Philip's daughter, Anne of 
 Austria. Again the river Bidassoa, the dividing-line 
 
LOUIS XIII. 211 
 
 between France and Spain, was the meeting-place for 
 the representatives of royalty. On the little Isle of 
 Pheasants, in the middle of the river, the young girls 
 met and exchanged greetings. Then Anne went to 
 Bordeaux, in France, where she met her future hus- 
 band, and Elizabeth to Burgos, in Spain, where she 
 was married to the Prince of Asturias, afterward Philip 
 the Fourth. 
 
 When Louis was thirteen years old, he was declared 
 of age to govern for himself. The Queen-mother went 
 throuo-h the form of callino; the States-General to- 
 gether, but the attempt only showed how useless it 
 was to hope for any thing from such an assembly. 
 When the speaker for the Third Estate, or common 
 people, spoke of the nation as one family of which the 
 lords were the elder brothers and the commons ths 
 younger, he was sharply rebuked for his impertinence. 
 " It is a great insolence," said the president of the 
 nobles, " to try to establish any sort of equality be- 
 tween us and them. They are to us as a valet to 
 Ills master." One of the petitions presented by the 
 nobility was, "that the common people should be for- 
 bidden to carry pistols, wear velvet or satin, or own 
 hunting-dogs." In this spirit the States-General separ- 
 ated, not to meet again for one hundred and seventy 
 four years. 
 
 The young king, feeble and irresolute but disliking 
 to submit, became daily more impatient of the control 
 of his mother and her favorites. A young friend of 
 his own, Albert De Luynes, persuaded him that Con- 
 •cini and his wife were plotting against his life, and 
 obtained permission to dispose of the Marshal by 
 
212 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 assassination. The programme was made between 
 them and carried out by De Luynes, Louis appearing 
 at a palace window as soon as the shot had been fired, 
 and exclaiming joyfully, " Now I am King !" 
 
 This cowardly act was quite in~keeping with his 
 character. He was a mere puppet, worked by strings 
 which other people pulled. Whoever was the strongest 
 for the moment, pulled the hardest, and the King act- 
 ed accordingly. When he had shaken off one tyrant 
 it was only to fall into the hands of another. With 
 all this he was obstinate and self-willed, so that his 
 life was a series of struggles to get rid of some influence 
 which irritated him, but which he had not streno;th to 
 resist. The murder of Concini, instead of giving him 
 the freedom he longed for,, only transferred the reins 
 of power to De Luynes, and the king remained as 
 much a cipher as ever until the death of the favorite a 
 few years later gave him a short interval of indepen- 
 dence. 
 
 After the death of Concini, his wife still remained to 
 be disposed of, and as there was no known crime of 
 which she could be accused, her enemies had her tried 
 for sorcery. When asked by what magical arts she 
 had gained such power over the Queen, she answered 
 proudly, " By the influence which a strong rnind exerts 
 over a weak one." She was sentenced to be beheaded, 
 and as she went to her death in the midst of a howling 
 rabble, she said, " What a crowd of people to look at 
 one poor creature !" Her firmness of mind and haught- 
 iness sustained her to the last. 
 
 Within ten years after King Henry's death, the great 
 work he did for the peasants had all been undone by 
 
LOUIS XIII. 213 
 
 the selfish tyranny of those who should have been their 
 kindest friends. No more fowls in the pot for a Sun- 
 day dinner ! If they were raised by the poor man, he 
 must sell them to satisfy the demands of the great 
 noble or the hard-hearted governor, who was again per- 
 mitted to ride rough-shod over him. There was no more 
 law and order. All had changed to a general scramble 
 for money and offices, and the cleverest and most un- 
 scrupulous were sure to come off the best. 
 
 And now a name much o-reater than the kinsr's 
 appears upon the page of history. It is that of 
 Cardinal Richelieu, who for twenty years was the real 
 king of France, governing Louis more absolutely 
 than even his mother had ever done. For many years 
 he had been on the side of the Queen-mother, patiently 
 waitino; until the reio-n of the favorite should be over. 
 Then, skillfully working his way into the king's 
 privy council, he began the work of making over the 
 country according to his own ideas. 
 
 As a Roman Catholic, he wanted to get rid of the 
 Huo'uenots. As a statesman, he desired to crush the 
 power of the great nobles, and forever prevent them 
 from setting themselves up against the king. As a 
 patriot, he determined to humble the pride of Austria 
 and Spain, and keep France up to the pitch of great- 
 ness at which, she had stood in the time of Henry the 
 Fourth. And with him to will was to do. 
 
 In order to injure Spain and strengthen France, 
 Richelieu hastened to arrano-e a marriao-e between 
 Prince Charles of England, who had been betrothed 
 to the Infanta of Spain, and Henrietta Maria, the king's 
 sister. As Charles was a Protestant, this seems a strange 
 
214 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 action for a son of the Church ; but the Cardinal told 
 the Pope when he protested against some injuries 
 done to Catholics, that although he was a church- 
 man, he was first a Frenchman. The Princess, who 
 was then only fourteen years old, on being asked how 
 she could make up her rniiLd to marry a Protestant, 
 replied quickly, " Wliy not ? Was not my father one?' 
 
 There had ah'eady been trouble among the French 
 Huo'uenots. Treaties had been made and broken, 
 towns taken and restored, as one party or the other 
 triumphed for the moment, until at last the war came 
 to a crisis in the siege of La Rochelle. This was a 
 beautiful city on the western coast of France, which 
 bad been strongly fortified by the Huguenots. The 
 English were on their side in spite of the recent mar- 
 riage, and sent them supplies by sea; and Cardinal 
 Richelieu, who had the direction of the siege, saw that 
 nothincv could be done unless he could fence them in 
 on this side also. 
 
 The navy of France was at that time very small, or 
 perhaps he might have blockaded the harbor by plac- 
 ing ships at the mouth of it. As that was out of the 
 question, he decided to build a solid stone wall in the 
 water far enough from the town to be out of reach of 
 cannon. Before this stupendous work, which was 
 called a mole, was finished, the English fleet, which 
 might have broken through it, came and looked at it 
 and then sailed away. After two or three similar dis- 
 appointments the people of Rochelle made up their 
 minds to stay there and starve, for they were deter- 
 mined never to give up. 
 
 With all the horrors of famine staring them in the 
 
LOUIS XIII. 215 
 
 face, these heroic men and women kept firm in their 
 purpose. The Mayor, at a town council, laid down his 
 poniard on the table, and said it should str.b the first 
 man who spoke of surrender. The poniard looked 
 sharp and dangerous, and every body kept his mouth 
 shut, on that subject at least. The Duchess of Rohan, 
 daughter of the great Sully and wife of one of the 
 j^roudest nobles in the land, lived, together with her 
 daughter, for three months upon horseflesh. The poor 
 died of hunger by thousands, but the stubborn Mayor 
 still held out. -i* I am willing to draw lots," said he, 
 " which of us shall be killed to feed the rest. As long- 
 as there is one man left to keep the gates shut, it will 
 be enouo'h." 
 
 At last, however, the few people who were left re- 
 fused to suffer any longer, and insisted on sending 
 word that they were ready to surrender, provided that 
 they could march out with drums beating and colors 
 fljnng, and receive a free pardon for all offences and 
 permission to worship as they chose. The Cardinal 
 was amused at their impudence, but treated the de- 
 mand rather as a good joke, and let them have their way. 
 
 When the deputies came to settle the terms of 
 peace with him they were obliged to ask that horses 
 might be sent for them, as they were too weak to walk. 
 It must have been a spectacle fit to move a heart 
 of stone to see the poor living skeletons creeping 
 along like shadows. The king gave them a dinner 
 and sent provisions into the town; but it is said that 
 many of those who still lived were choked by the 
 first morsel of bread they ate, and died of plenty as 
 those before them had died of huno-er. 
 
216 HISTORY OF FEANCE. 
 
 When the garrison marched out, the conquerors 
 were astonished to see only a hundred and fifty left 
 out of many thousand; the rest had been killed in 
 fio:htino; or had died of want. When the kino; rode into 
 the city by the side of the Cardinal, a mournful sight 
 met him everywhere. There were dead people in 
 the streets, in the houses, in the churches. No one 
 had strength to bury them, and the decaying corpses 
 filled the air with a horrible odor. It was a curious 
 circumstance that the next day after the king's visit 
 to the city of Rochelle, the great mole which was the 
 cause of its ruin was washed away into the sea by a 
 violent storm. But though set free, as it were. La 
 Rochelle never held up its head again. The fortifi- 
 cations were torn down, the city was forbidden to have 
 a mayor or any government of its own, and the Roman 
 Catholics were restored to all their privileges. To 
 this day Rochelle feels the effect of that fatal siege. 
 
 When it was known that the Protestants were still 
 to be allowed to worship in their own way, the Catholics 
 were very indignant, calling Richelieu the " Hugue- 
 not Cardinal," or " Protestant Pope," and trying to in- 
 fluence the king against him. But they did not under- 
 stand the great man who set the power and glory of 
 France above every thing else in the world. He saw 
 that it would be better for the country that the civil 
 war should cease and that the Huguenots, who were still 
 a great body of people, should lay down their arms; 
 and he wanted to save all the strength there was in 
 France for wars against her outside enemies. 
 
 Richelieu was not permitted to carry out his plans 
 without bitter opposition from the queen -mother and 
 
LOUIS XIII. 217 
 
 her part^', and once Louis had actually been persuaded 
 to dismiss him from office. He gave his promise, the 
 disaffected party became wild with joy, and the good 
 news was dispatched all over Europe. The Cardinal 
 was just preparing to go into exile when a messenger 
 came to call him to the king. He remained closeted 
 with him for some time, and came out looking radiant; 
 then unpacked his things and stayed where he was. 
 Mary aiid her party, crestfallen, sank out of sight. The 
 day on which this happened is called in French history 
 the Day of the Dupes. 
 
 After each discovery of a plot against him, and there 
 were many, the Cardinal took a terrible vengeance on 
 the guilty parties, and as these were mostly among 
 the nobility, the headsman's axe was kept busy until 
 scarcely a great lord remained who dared to raise his 
 head above the level of the common people, lest it 
 should be lopped off. The power of the crown, or, 
 as we should say in this country, of the government, 
 was to be all in all. As it was impossible for Richelieu 
 to cut off the head of Mary de' Medici, he induced the 
 cold-hearted king to send her away from court. In- 
 stead of burying herself in the obscure country town 
 to which she was ordered to retire, the queen-mother 
 escaped to Brussels, where she could communicate 
 with her friends in Spain. Louis could not forgive 
 this; he never allowed her to return, and the widow 
 of Henry the Fourth, the mother of Louis the Thirteenth, 
 died in poverty in a foreign country. 
 
 There was no one left to say No when the Cardinal 
 said Yes. Instead of his being loyal to the king, the 
 question was- always whether the king was loyal to 
 
218 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 him. He represented the rights, not of the People, 
 but of the Crown. Nothing, not even the king him- 
 self, was allowed to stand in the way of this right. 
 It was said that Richelieu had made of Louis the first 
 man in Europe, but the second man in France. We 
 have no room to speak here of his foreign policy, 
 which placed France at the head of all European 
 nations. And for one good deed at least, the people of 
 France had to thank the Cardinal; he put a stop to the 
 barbarous practice of duelling. There was a law 
 againt this crime to which nobody paid any attention, 
 but when Richelieu had not only the survivor in a duel 
 but also the seconds executed like common criminals, 
 duelling fell into disuse. 
 
 The Cardinal had always been noted for his magnif- 
 icence, and as he drew near his end it seemed as if 
 he meant to out-do himself in this respect. During 
 his last illness, when it was necessary for him to make a 
 journey to Lyons and back again, he had a good-sized 
 room built and elegantly furnished, in which he might 
 sit, walk about or lie down comfortably. This was 
 carried on the shoulders of eighteen men, and such of 
 his servants as he chose to have for companions rode 
 inside with him. Where the city gates were not wide 
 enough to admit this unusual vehicle, a great piece 
 of wall was torn down, so that he might pass without 
 being disturbed, and ditches were filled up or bridged 
 over for the same purpose. 
 
 Paris owes to Richelieu the beautiful " Jardin des 
 Plantes," which still adorns it, and some of its great 
 literary institutions. In speaking thus we do not 
 imply any act of personal generosity on his part, for it 
 
LOUIS XIV. 219 
 
 must always be remembered that public magnificence 
 under a despotic government is only one among many 
 modes of spending the hard-earned money of the 
 people. 
 
 Louis survived the Cardinal only five months. It 
 seemed as if he could not, when alone, bear the bur- 
 den which had been so lono; lifted from his shoulders. 
 He died on the anniversary of his father's death, at 
 forty-two years of age. He had no very noticeable 
 faults, and very few virtues. He was brave in battle, 
 but there is no great virtue in that; of moral courage, 
 a much higher quality than physical, he had not a 
 particle. He was cold-hearted and ungrateful, and 
 saw his dearest friends sent to the block or driven into 
 exile by Richelieu without an effort to save them. 
 When the minister himself died, Louis only remarked, 
 " There is a great politician gone," without remem- 
 bering, apparently, that to this statesman his kingdom 
 owedmuch of all that it possessed of glory andgreatness. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 LOUIS XIV. — 1643-1715. 
 
 [OUR days after the death of Louis the Thir- 
 teenth, another Louis was brought before the 
 Parliament to hold a "bed of justice." The 
 
 little man of four years and a half old was seated in a 
 great chair far too wide for him, and said in a sweet, 
 childish voice, that he had come there to show his good- 
 
220 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 will to the Parliament, and that his chancellor would 
 say the rest. It must have looked like a reception by 
 Tom Thumb. 
 
 But Master Louis had a pretty clear idea, even then, 
 of the difference between him and other boys. A few 
 days before his father's death, the king asked him if 
 he knew what his name was. " I am Louis the Four- 
 teenth," answered the boy, very innocently. "Not 
 yet, my child, not yet," said his father, stroking his 
 head softly, though we may imagine that he rather en- 
 joyed seeing the spirit of his little son, so ready to 
 take the new dignity upon him. Louis the Thirteenth 
 had been a low-spirited, melancholy man, and this 
 cheerful self-confidence must have been refreshing to 
 him. 
 
 He had appointed a council of Regency, not car- 
 ing to trust his wife with the sole power of gov- 
 ernment. But the first thing she did was to induce 
 the Parliament to set aside his will and give her the 
 entire control of affairs, taking for her chief adviser Car- 
 dinal Mazarin, an adroit Italian priest, who always had 
 a low bow and a submissive smile ready for every one. 
 
 There could not have been a greater contrast than 
 between him and the bold, haughty Richelieu; and at 
 first it seemed as if all would go smoothly. Anne was 
 so anxious to please everybody that she promised 
 whatever was asked of her; and a witty courtier said 
 that the whole French language at that time consisted 
 of five words: " The queen is so good! " But as she 
 could not possibly perform all her promises she soon 
 made enemies, and disgraceful quarrels took the place 
 of the general satisfaction. 
 
LOUIS XIV. 221 
 
 We shall find it convenient to divide Louis the Four- 
 teenth's loiig reign of seventy-two years into three 
 periods. The first is that of youth, from his accession 
 to the death of Cardinal Mazarin; the second, when he 
 governed for himself, includes the most glorious part 
 of his reign, during which he profited by the services 
 of the great Colbert, his able and upright prime-min- 
 ister; the last is a time of misfortune, when he began 
 to persecute Protestants and to lose that splendid place 
 among the kings of Europe which he had held so long. 
 
 Five days after the death of Louis the Thirteenth, a 
 great victory was won over the Spaniards at Rocroi in 
 the Netherlands by the Duke of Enghien, afterwards 
 known as the Great Conde. This was the first of a 
 series of battles gained against the House of Austria 
 by this celebrated general, who was helped by another 
 almost as great, named Turenne. In 1648 the peace 
 of Wesphalia put an end to the Thirty Years' War in. 
 Germany, and gave the French what they had long 
 been looking at with coveto.us eyes — the river Rhine for 
 their eastern boundary. The provinces of Alsace and 
 Lorraine, which were annexed to France during the 
 reign of Louis the Fourteenth and Louis the Fifteenth, 
 remained in its possession down to our own times, 
 when they again became a part of Germany. 
 
 The war with Spain dragged on for some j'-ears 
 longer, but a struggle of so much greater importance 
 was jroino- on within France itself that other countries 
 were almost forgotten. This is called the war of the 
 Fronde, and originated in a question of taxes. 
 Richelieu had left the treasury well filled, but Mazarin 
 soon eniptied it by his bad management. The expenses 
 
222 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 of the Spanish war were enormous, and fresh demands 
 were made on the people. A new tax called the 
 octroi was levied upon every article of food or other 
 merchandise brought into Paris from the country, and 
 was so intolerable to the trading community that the 
 Parliament refused to res-ister it. This enra2:ed Anne 
 of Austria, who had been brought up in the despotic 
 court of Spain and did not know what resistance by 
 the people meant. Finding that she could not control 
 public feeling and that the people were everywhere 
 rising in rebellion, she took her two sons, Louis and 
 the Duke of Orleans, and went to St. Germain, where 
 she and her friends lived a forlorn sort of life for some 
 time, while the excitement in Paris continued to 
 increase. The palace was unfurnished, and the cour- 
 tiers could scarcely find a bundle of straw to lie upon. 
 Queen Henrietta Maria of England and her daughter, 
 (who afterward married the Duke of Orleans), were 
 guests at the palace, and the princess sometimes had 
 to lie in bed during whole days for lack of fire. 
 
 Meantime, the civil war changed its character and 
 became a mere party-contest, where both sides forgot 
 the original cause of quarrel, and joined one side or 
 the other from personal reasons. The word Fronde 
 means a sling, and the combatants were called Fron- 
 deurs in derision, because they behaved like boys 
 slinging stones in the streets. 
 
 The Prince of Conde, having finished beating the 
 Spaniards, came with his army to Paris to attack the 
 Parliament. The latter, hastily gathering some troops 
 to2:ether, were defeated at Charenton bv Conde; but 
 after that, most of the fighting was done with very 
 
LOUIS XIV. 223 
 
 harmless weapons. The two parties said all the witty- 
 things about each other that they could think of, made 
 ridiculous pictures and published a great deal of bad 
 poetry and some abusive pamphlets. If hard names 
 had been bullets, there would scarcely have been a 
 man left alive. A great deal was done, too, with 
 ribbons. The army of Paris looked like a milliner's 
 shop as it marched out in the morning decked in feath- 
 ers and gay streamers of silk. In the evening it 
 would come back defeated and draggled, to be received 
 by the frivolous crowd with hootings and roars of 
 lauofhter. The whole thino; was turned into a farce. 
 
 After a while there was some real bloodshed, and 
 the great generals Conde and Turenne taking oppo- 
 site sides, there was some rather warm work for a 
 while. An active and somewhat restless young lady 
 called Mademoiselle de Montpensier, a cousin of the 
 king, actually got possession of the great fortress 
 called the Bastille, and turned its guns on Louis when 
 he wanted to enter his capital. At last Cond6, in a 
 fit of disgust at the conduct of the queen, left his 
 country and passed into the service of Spain; Anne 
 and her son returned to Paris, the questions in dispute 
 were allowed quietly to drop, and the War of the 
 Fronde came to an end, after an inglorious struggle of 
 five years. 
 
 As usual, the poor were the greatest sufferers. The 
 young noble who put himself at the head of a troop 
 of horse and dashed over the country after the enem}^, 
 did not care whose cornfields and gardens he trampled 
 down, nor how many families were ruined by the 
 pillage of his soldiers. If he saw a whole village on 
 
224 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 fire at once, it was a pleasant sight to him, provided 
 the village belonged to the opposite party; and if it 
 did not, his regret was not that the poor wretches had 
 been driven starving from their homes, but that the 
 enemy had gained an advantage over himself. 
 
 Not far from Paris there was a convent for nuns 
 called Port Royal, and the good abbess wrote to a 
 friend: " We are all busy making soups for the poor. 
 Everything is pillaged. Cornfields are trampled down 
 by the cavalry before the owners' eyes. Nobody will 
 plough or dig, for he is not certain of reaping what 
 he sows; all is stolen. We have concealed as many 
 peasants and cattle as we can in our own house. The 
 dormitory and chapter-house are full of horses. We 
 are almost stifled by being shut up w^ith these beasts, 
 but we could not resist the cries of the poor. Forty 
 cows are hidden in the cellar. We have torn up our 
 linen clothes to make bandao'es for the wounded. Our 
 firewood is used up, and we dare not send into the 
 woods for more, for they are full of marauding soldiers." 
 
 And this was only in one little district. If we 
 multiply it by thousands, we shall then have only a 
 faint idea of the miseries of industrious France. But 
 it did not long disturb the enjoyments of idle France, 
 and the court was soon as gay as ever. 
 
 At thirteen the young king had been declared able 
 to govern for himself; at twenty-one, it was high time 
 for him to take a wife. Philip the Fourth of Spain 
 had a daughter who would suit him admirably, and 
 both countries were tired of the war, which had been 
 going on all this time. With Conde on one side and 
 Turenne on the other, the victories and defeats were 
 
LOUIS XIV. 225 
 
 about equal, and it seemed as if there would be no 
 end to it. But just here a difficulty arose. The king 
 of Spain would make no peace unless Conde could be 
 restored to all his honors and dignities. Mazarin 
 naturally refused to reward in that way a traitor to 
 his country; and it was not until Philip threatened 
 that he would 2:ive Flanders to the Prince as an inde- 
 pendent possession that the Cardinal gave up the 
 point. The Prince was pardoned, and made governor 
 of Burgundy. 
 
 Some time before this, Conde had captured a town 
 from the French, and, as an act of courtesy, had sent 
 back to Louis some standards taken from his troops. 
 ''The Spaniards are so little used to taking French col- 
 ors that I will not deprive them of these," answered 
 the king, disdainfully, and sent the flags back again 
 After the peace, Conde knelt at the feet of Louis to 
 ask his pardon, to which the monarch answered, 
 " Cousin, after the great services you have rendered 
 to the Crown, I do not wish to remember any action 
 that has done harm only to yourself." I think we may 
 say that Louis, at this time, at least, was " every inch 
 a king." 
 
 All things being settled, the little Isle of Pheasants 
 in the river Bidassoa again saw a splendid company 
 assembled on its shores. A grand pavilion was built 
 in the middle of the island, and a chalk-mark was run 
 through the center of the floor, to show the exact place 
 where Spain ended and France began. Across this 
 mark the two kings exchanged a solemn embrace, and 
 Anne of Austria met her brother, Philip the. Fourth, 
 after a forty-five years' separation. 
 15 
 
226 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Louis was very much pleased with his bride, whose 
 name was Maria Theresa. He treated her far from 
 well, and yet, after twenty-three years of married life, 
 he declared that her death was the first regrret she had 
 ever caused him. In the marriage-contract it was pro- 
 vided that the bride should give up all right to the 
 throne of Spain, for herself and her descendants. 
 This agreement should be remembered, as events of 
 great importance turned upon it afterwards. 
 
 It was Cardinal Mazarin who had brought about this 
 delicate and difficult Peace of the Pyrenees, and whose 
 name was in every mouth. But the Cardinal was soon 
 to be beyond the reach of earthly praise or glory. 
 Very slowly and regretfully he gave up his hold on 
 life. One of his attendants heard him, while walking 
 about among his vast treasures of art and wealth, say: 
 " And must I leave all this behind? What trouble I 
 have taken to collect these things, and now I shall 
 never see them again." He had been a bad home- 
 ruler for France, — wasteful, grasping and indolent, but 
 lie probably did not suspect the harm he had done. 
 His greatest failing was an inordinate love of money. 
 He made use of his position to enrich himself to such 
 an extent that at his death he left property, gained by 
 very discreditable means, which would equal forty mil- 
 lions of our dollars. On the other hand, he established 
 (probably with the people's money), the French Acad- 
 emy of Painting and Sculpture, the magnificent 
 Mazarine library, and the College of Four Nations, an 
 institution for the education of children from four 
 countries which had been added to France by the 
 treaty of Westphalia. 
 
LOUIS XIV, 227 
 
 When the Cardinal was dead, the first person who 
 came to Louis on business asked to whom he should 
 address himself. " To me," replied the king. 
 
 A capacity for hard work was what distinguished 
 Louis the Fourteenth from most other king's. He 
 began with the determination to understand his own 
 business thoroughly, and to be certain, from his own 
 knowledge, that it was done properly. He spent 
 regularly eight hours a day in his cabinet at the public 
 business. Ministers, chancellors, and all officers of 
 the State were charged to get their instructions directly 
 from himself, and to do nothing without his orders. 
 All this was part of a system of despotism which was 
 very much' against the true interests of the nation; 
 but this must not blind our eyes to the example he 
 set of industry and regularity. 
 
 Mazarin said of Louis, "There is enough in him to 
 make four kino-s and one honest man." This shows 
 that the Cardinal had not a very high opinion of kings, 
 and thought an honest man rather a rare product of 
 nature; perhaps it was so in his time. Certainly his 
 own hoarded millions made a shameful contrast to the 
 emptiness of the royal treasury. It was time that 
 someone should take hold, and Louis soon found out 
 both the right man to dismiss and the right man to 
 put in his place. 
 
 Mazarin, when on his death-bed, had said to the king, 
 " Manage your affairs yourself. Sire, and raise no more 
 ministers to the height at which your goodness has 
 placed me. I see by what I might have done how 
 dangerous it is for a king to give his servants such 
 power." He himself had employed Nicholas Fouquet 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 as Superintendent of Finance, an office corresponding 
 to our Secretary of the Treasury. This man, a person 
 of brilliant talents and great taste for literature and 
 art, was shamefully dishonest. Mazarin knew it, 
 everybody knew it; and yet Fouquet went on stealing 
 the public money, falsifying the accounts, and spend- 
 ing most wastefuUy what he did not take for himself, 
 and still he kept his office. 
 
 He was so used to offering bribes to everybody that 
 he even tried to bribe the king. He sold the rich 
 office of Attorney-General, which he held in addition 
 to the other, for fourteen hundred thousand livres, and 
 gave a million of them to Louis, who was in pressing 
 need of money, no doubt thinking that he had bound 
 His Majesty to him for ever. 
 
 There was a proverb among the old heathen, "Whom 
 the gods would destroy, they first make mad," and it 
 seemed to be true in this case. Fouquet had built him- 
 self a magnificent palace which was filled with costly 
 works of art and surrounded by the most exquisite 
 gardens; and he had the imprudence to invite the King 
 here to an entertainment more splendid than any 
 which that monarch had ever offered to his own guests. 
 As Louis saw the tables loaded with silver and gold 
 dishes, and the noble company pouring their com- 
 pliments into the ear of the smiling and self-satisfied 
 host, he could scarcely refrain from having him given 
 up to justice on the spot. 
 
 Anne of x\ustria advised him against this, saying, 
 " Such an action would not be honorable to you, my 
 son, when the poor man is ruining himself, to give you 
 an entertainment." He was ruining himself, indeed, 
 
LOUIS XIV. 229 
 
 but not in the way the queen-mother meant. He was 
 arrested soon afterward and kept in prison for three 
 years while his trial went on. Then he was senten- 
 ced to banishment and confiscation of all his property; 
 but the King, thinking this too mild a punishment, had 
 him imprisoned for life in the gloomy fortress of 
 Pignerol. 
 
 This unnecessary harshness gives the key-note to 
 Louis's whole life. No punishment could be too severe 
 for any one who had offended him. No sense of jus- 
 tice whispered to him that since he had deliberately 
 neglected for years to look into a matter which he 
 knew must be wrong, it woald be enough to take 
 away the offender's property and send him aAvay for- 
 ever from his country as the regular court of justice 
 had decided should be done. The king meant to 
 show that he was master. 
 
 His .favorite saying was, "I'Etat, c'est moi;" "I 
 am the State." With this idea he began his life, and 
 in this spirit he carried it out to the end. At seven- 
 teen years of age he went, booted and spurred and 
 with a riding- whip in his hand, into the room where his 
 Parliament was en2:ao:cd in debatino- on certain taxes ' 
 and ordered them to mind their own business, which 
 was to register his edicts, not to discuss them. His 
 imperious will gained the victory, then and always, 
 where his own people were concerned, and no king 
 was ever more slavishly obeyed. 
 
230 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 GILAPTER XXIY, 
 
 TO THE PEACE OF NIMEGUEN — 1G78. 
 
 OUQUET'S place was filled by a very dif- 
 ferent person, whom historians have agreed 
 to call the great Colbert. lie Tound the 
 public money in the same condition it had been in 
 before Sully's time. Only about one-third of the taxes 
 paid ever reached the royal treasury, while the 
 expenses of collection amounted to two-thiriis of what 
 was assessed. Tiie result was an enormous debt and 
 dreadful sulfei-ing among the poor, who were almost 
 the only ones to be taxed. 
 
 It is hard for us to believe in this day that the 
 nobility and clergy, with their immense incomes, paid 
 scarcely any taxes at all. We do not wonder that the 
 woi-king classes at last arose against such a state of 
 things as this, but rather that they ever bore it at all. 
 One letter written to Colbert at this time says, "the 
 poor are eating grass and i-(-)ots in our meadows like 
 cattle. Those who can find dead carcases devour them, 
 and unless God takes pity upon them they will soon 
 be eating one another." Another says; " We have 
 had to throw open the doors of our great hospital, 
 having no longer any food to give to those wlio are in 
 it. I can assure you, there are j)ersons in this town 
 who have gone for whole days without anything to eat." 
 
 These people were so wasted with hunger that they 
 had no strength to cultivate the ground, and their 
 cattle had already been seized by the government lor 
 
TO THE FEACE OF NIMEGUEN. 231 
 
 taxes. The liirirc mind of Colbert saw at once what a 
 false principle regulated these thino-s, and, while 
 advising the king to excuse the people from paying 
 their arrears, he labored to introduce a system which 
 in later times has become universal; that of taxing- 
 houses and lands, incomes and luxuries, instead of the 
 blood and bones of the laborer. He did not entirely 
 succeed, but he did much to relieve the burdens which 
 tlie people were groaning luider, and by his nuinage- 
 ment nine-tenths of what was collected went directly 
 into the government chest, leaving a large sum there 
 for (»xtra expenses. 
 
 Those expenses began oidy too soon. Though 
 Louis allowed some years to go by without attacking 
 Ids neiglibors, he had none the less a passion for war 
 whenever it could be made the means of increasing 
 his own glory. It is impossible to give the details of 
 his many wars. The slightest possible mention of 
 them will suffice. 
 
 f At the d(\ath of his father-in-law, Philip the Fourth, 
 No claimed Flanders and the Franche Comt(j, which had 
 once been part of Burgundy, as belonging to his wife, 
 who was an older sister of the new king of Spain, 
 Charles the Second. When reminded that he had 
 given up all claim to any such inheritance when he 
 married, ho replied that the contract was good for 
 nothing because the queen's dowry had never been 
 paid. 
 
 CondeandTurenne soon conquered these provinces, 
 assisted l)y the great military engineer, Vauban, and 
 accompanied by Louis and many of the young nobility. 
 Peace was made with Spain, but it would not naturally 
 
232 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 be ao'reeable to other nations to see the kins; of one 
 gradually swallowing up the countries in his neigh- 
 borhood, for no one could tell whose turn would come 
 next. So England, Holland and Sweden made what 
 was called the Triple Alliance, by which they bound 
 themselves to stand by one another against Louis, and 
 protect the weaker nations who were in danger from 
 his ambition. 
 
 It happened that just at that time Charles the 
 Second, a very mean and greedy king, was on the 
 throne of England. He hated liberty in his secret 
 heart quite as much as Louis did, and had only joined 
 the Dutch Republic, Holland, by the persuasion of his 
 ministers, who cared much more for. the interest of 
 England than he did. Louis took advantage of his 
 necessities to send the Duchess of Orleans (Charles's 
 sister and his own sister-in-law), on a secret mission to 
 him to persuade him to break off from the Triple 
 Alliance. The pretty Henrietta accomplished this 
 without difficulty, and Charles accepted a yearly pen- 
 sion from Louis, which was paid to him secretly as 
 long; as he lived. 
 
 Louis had from the besfinnino' meant to make war 
 on Holland as soon as he could get England to break 
 off her friendship with the Dutch. He could not 
 forgive this humble republic, which less than sixty 
 years before had freed itself from Spain, for presum- 
 ing to join an alliance against him, and he longed to 
 punish it. He invaded the country with a splendid 
 army, nominally commanded by himself, but really 
 under the direction of Conde and Turenne, with all 
 the most skillful captains in France in their train. 
 
TO THE PEACE OF NIMEGUEN. 233 
 
 Everything they did was reported to Paris with the 
 wildest enthusiasm, as if Alexander the Great and 
 Julius Cassar had been rolled into one to make the 
 still greater Louis. The army took many towns and 
 seemed likely to conquer all Holland, when, by a 
 change in the government, William, Prince of Orange, 
 the nephew of Charles the Second of England, was 
 placed in command of the defence. Holland was 
 poor enough in men and money, but she had one ally 
 that Louis had not counted on — the ocean ; and when 
 her fortunes seemed nearly desperate, William of 
 Orange ordered the dykes which kept out the sea to 
 be cut through; the country was flooded, the French 
 were forced to retire, and Holland was saved. We 
 are tempted to wish that every invasion might end in 
 defeat. 
 
 " A war with Germany came next after this, during 
 which Tarenne committed the most cruel deeds in the 
 Palatinate. The horrible ravages made by his troops 
 — the burnino* of towns, the murder of unarmed 
 citizens, men, women and children, the destruction of 
 the entire harvest — all these make a picture of blood 
 and desolation which must darken his name forever. 
 Ho was not opposhig an army; no resistance was made; 
 it was the wantonness of revenge. 
 
 The war continued with great fury until the death 
 of Turenne, who was replaced by the great Conde. 
 This general was then very old, and had retired from 
 military life; he served during only one campaign, and 
 his eventful life came to a close in peace. A great 
 deal more fighting was done, which it would be unprofit- 
 able to relate in detail, so I shall pass on to the Peace 
 
234 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 of NimeguGD, in 1678, which put an end to the war 
 for a short time. By this treaty Spain gave up the 
 whole of the Franche-Oomte and many strong towns 
 on the border of Flanders. The Empire of Germany 
 and Holland got off more easily, but France remained 
 without a question the first state in Europe in power 
 and importance. The delighted magistrates of Paris 
 solemnly voted to Louis the Fourteenth the title of 
 "The Great," and built the two grand triumphal 
 arches of St. Denis and St. Martin in honor of his 
 victories. 
 
 The change that had come over the fortunes of the 
 country since the death of Mazarin must have seemed 
 at first almost like magic. Not only was the revenue 
 increased without unbearable taxes, but new enter- 
 prises sprang up in every quarter. The great canal 
 of Languedoc was made, uniting the waters of the 
 Bay of Biscay with those of the Mediterranean; trad- 
 ing companies were established with the East Indies 
 and other countries, which poured money into the 
 pockets of French^ merchants, and workmen were 
 brouo-ht from all over the world to teach the French 
 how to manufacture many articles for which they had 
 previously sent elsewhere. 
 
 Gobelin tapestry, the finest plate glass, the richest 
 dress-materials, the most superb carpets, were made in 
 such quantitie:s that the French began to export them. 
 It was forbidden to bring lace into France from for- 
 eign lands, and as enormous quantities of this expensive 
 fabric were worn by the courtiers, thousands of French 
 women and children were soon busily employed in its 
 manufacture. Admirable roads were made from one 
 
TO THE PEACE OF NIMEGUEN. 235 
 
 end of the kingdom to the other; a great navy filled 
 the ports and drove away the pirates from the Medi- 
 terranean; several palaces already begun were finished 
 under Colbert's administration. The Louvre, St. Ger- 
 main, and other splendid buildings still bear witness 
 to his energy and good taste. 
 
 But there came a time when even Colbert's wise econ- 
 omy failed to provide for the king's willful extravagance 
 or for the money he squandered in useless wars. Having 
 at all times a oTeat dread of death, Louis took a dis- 
 like to his palace of St. Germain, because from it he 
 could see the towers of St. Denis, the cathedral where 
 he must one day sleep with his fathers; and he chose 
 to build another at Versailles, where he could be shut 
 in from all annoying sights. 
 
 On this vast and totally unnecessary pile of build- 
 ings he expended a sum which would be equal in our 
 time to nearly two hundred millions of dollars. The 
 pleasure-grounds which surrounded it were sixty miles 
 in circumference, and whole groves were transplanted 
 to fill this vast space. Water was brought at first 
 from the distant Seine, and afterwards a river ninety 
 miles away was turned from its bed and made to min- 
 ister to the caprice of the " Grand Monarque." The 
 painting and sculpture lavished on this place would 
 have filled twenty palaces. But the taxation for this 
 and similar purposes became enormous, and Colbert 
 dared to remonstrate, not only against this extrava- 
 gance, but against the morxstrous expenditures of the 
 court. 
 
 " A us'^less banquet at a cost of a thousand crowns 
 causes me incredible pain," he wrote to the king. 
 
236 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 ''Your majesty must pardou me, but it seems to me as 
 if you were beginning" to prefer your pleasures to 
 every thing else. At the very time when your majesty 
 told me that the morsel of bread must be taken from 
 the people's mouth to provide for the navy, you spent 
 two hundred thousand livres for a trip to Versailles." 
 Plain speaking, this, and such as few men dared to 
 address to the great monarch. It was not at all to 
 Louis's taste, and although he did not openly quarrel 
 with Colbert, whose services were important to him, 
 he treated him with harshness and neglect, and constant- 
 ly blamed him for spending too much money. 
 
 When the great minister lay on his death-bed, Louis 
 wrote him a kind letter, an honor which many of his 
 subjects would have been, almost willing to die in 
 order to receive; but Colbert would not open it, sup- 
 posing it to be only the usual sneering fault-finding. 
 " I dont want to hear anything more about him," he 
 said. " Now at any rate he might leave me alone." 
 Colbert left a large fortune, honestly gained, but the 
 ignorant and brutal populace, remembering Mazarin 
 and Fouquet, cursed his memory, and it was necessary 
 to bury his remains secretly by night, to save them 
 from the fury of the mob. 
 
 It must have been a curious spectacle to see the 
 fawnino* "courtiers hoverino; about Louis the Great, 
 all anxious for a smile or even a look from his aw^ful 
 face, each one trembling at the thought of his frown. 
 They had but one thought among them: " The King ! 
 the King ! " They seem to have had nothing 
 better to do from morninp; to nio-ht than to watch 
 his looks and motions, and listen for the words 
 
TO THE PEACE OF NIMEGUEN. 237 
 
 that he deigned to let fall from his august 
 lips. Every peculiarity in his walk or manner 
 was instantly mimicked by the noble crowd. 
 Being short of stature, he wore shoes with heels 
 four inches high, so as to look more imposing, and 
 added a top-story to his head in the shape of an enor- 
 mous wig, covered with stiff curls. Of course eveiy 
 man about the court also wore high heels and a curly 
 wig, and the consequence is that all their portraits 
 look alike. 
 
 Louis had extremely gracious manners when he 
 chose to be agreeable, therefore gracious manners 
 became the fashion, and vast importance was attached 
 to them; but they covered a great deal of wickedness. 
 It was generally understood that it was of no impor- 
 tance what kind of life a man led, provided he was 
 in favor with the king. Louis himself set an example 
 of unblushing vice in his private life, neglecting his 
 queen and putting in her place other women who 
 were received at court as if they had been the best- 
 behaved ladies in the land, while the excellent Maria 
 Theresa was scarcely heard of. 
 
 He loved to gather men of literary talent about him, 
 not because he loved books himself, for he was so 
 ignorant he could scarcely read or write, but because 
 he had sense enough to know that their presence gave 
 additional dignity to his court. He knew notliing 
 of the history either of his own or of any other nation, 
 and therefore lacked entirely the knowledge of life 
 and the power of comparing himself with others which 
 even a limited course of study would have given him. 
 He honestly thought himself the greatest man in the 
 
238 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 world, and this conceit often made him ridiculous in 
 the eyes of foreigners, though to his own countrymen 
 he appeared little less than godlike. 
 
 He got what he wanted, and that was incessant 
 flattery and servility. His active mind showed itself 
 in regulating every thing that was done at the court 
 down to the most trifling particulars. The person 
 who was allowed to hold a candle while he undressed 
 himself was made proud for the rest of his life. The 
 happy man whose duty it was to pass in his wig 
 behind the bed-curtains at the end of a long cane, so 
 that he might put it on before any human eye looked 
 at him in the morning, was the envy of the less 
 favored courtiers. The permission to wear a certain 
 kind of short jacket like one worn by the king, was a 
 grace to go down on one's knees for. 
 
 Louis also made a complete list of those who might 
 sit in his presence, who might stand and who might 
 kneel. It was the greatest of all privileges to be ad- 
 mitted to his dressino:-room and have the honor of see- 
 ing his clothes put on or taken ofi". And the strange 
 thing about it all is that this admiration was real and 
 not pretended. The king might be acting a part, but 
 the courtiers were not. Even the preachers fell into 
 the same poor way, and instead of hearing reproofs for 
 his vices when he condescended to listen to their ser- 
 mons, he heard nothing but smooth sentences about 
 religion in general, mixed with a good many references 
 to the earthly monarch who favored the house of 
 God with his presence. A funeral oration on some 
 distinguished man or woman could scarcely be con- 
 cluded without some compliment to the living king. 
 
TO THE PEACE OF NIMEGUEN. 239 
 
 Louis has been much praised for his liberality. 
 Here is a specimen of it. When he built the 
 chateau of Marly, (which cost some eight or 
 ten millions of dollars,) he gave a grand entertain- 
 ment at its opening. Each lady found in her 
 dressing-room a complete set of clothing of the most 
 magnificent description, including jewels; each guest 
 was at liberty to give entertainments in his " apart- 
 ment," — (which does not mean in French a single 
 room, but an entire suite), — where repasts Avere served 
 with the same eleo-ance as at the kino;'s own table; 
 servants, horses and carriages waited the bidding of 
 the guests, and every thing was done to make an 
 earthly Paradise. Very liberal, indeed : and who 
 paid for all this? The king, of course. But where 
 did the king get the money for the splendid enter- 
 tainments of which this is only one of many — for the 
 vast chateaux, the exquisite works of art, the costly 
 service? It was ground out of the bodies of the poor. 
 The palmy days of Colbert's early ministry were over. 
 The prosperous merchant could still count his gains 
 with pleasure, for it was not upon the rich that the 
 burden fell; but the hard-working artisan and the 
 toiling peasant groaned under taxes which, as Colbert 
 said, took the very bread out of their mouths. Remem- 
 ber, when you read of such " liberality," who it is 
 that pays for it. 
 
 Another instance given of the king's generosity is 
 that when the daughters of his ministers were married, 
 he gave to each one a portion of two hundred thousand 
 crowns. And all the court said, " Oh, what a generous 
 king! " And the poor man said, " I can not plough 
 
240 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 my land tins year; I must dig it up as well as I can 
 with my hands. My cattle were all taken for taxes." 
 In our own republican country we complain some- 
 times of heavy taxes, but this is because we forget the 
 sufferings of the generations that are past. There are 
 two reasons why our taxes are easily borne — the first 
 is that they are as thistle-down to hailstones compared 
 with those we have been describing; the second is 
 that we impose them on ourselves by our own votes, 
 and expend them by our own officers, an idea which 
 had not dawned in France in the seventeenth century. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS XIV 1715. 
 
 jHE first thing Louis did after the peace of 
 Nimeixuen was to seize various fortified towns 
 belono-ino- to his nei2:hbors, sometimes under 
 the pretence that they had once belonged to France, 
 sometimes without any pretence at all. One town ho 
 took because he said it had been forgotten when the 
 treaty was made. His habit of keeping up warlike 
 operations in a time of perfect peace grew to be so 
 much a matter of course that nobody was surprised at 
 it, though all resented it. Various nations in Europe, 
 were planning to attack him by joining their forces in 
 a grand coalition, but before this could be completed 
 an event took place in France itself which fell upon 
 
TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS XIV. 241 
 
 the continent like a thunder-clap. This was the Revo- 
 cation of the Edict of Nantes, a decree that had been 
 issued by Henry the Fouith to give Protestants the 
 right of worshiping God in their own way, which in 
 those days was considered a great privilege. Through 
 the long reign of his son it had never been disturbed, 
 even hv the Roman Catholic Richelieu, except where 
 it had led to rebellion; and when that was over it 
 remained in force as before. But for several 
 3'ears in France it had been infringed upon little 
 by little, until at last Louis was induced by his 
 friend Madame de Maintenon to take it away alto- 
 gether. 
 
 This lady was in many respects an admirable woman, 
 very dilFerent from the court-favorites who came before 
 her. She had a fine intellect, charming manners, and 
 no doubt sincerely desired to use her influence over 
 the king only for his good; but in matters of religion 
 she was bigoted and narrow-minded, and had no 
 trouble in persuading Louis that the best atonement 
 he could make for his many sins would be to persecute 
 those who did not believe in what she called the true 
 faith. Another person who had great power over the 
 king's mind at this time was his minister of war, 
 Louvois, who had succeeded Colbert in his confidence. 
 Louvois was constantly urging him to undertake new 
 enterprises, and had a savage, impatient disposition, to 
 which the rooting out of heretics was a positive 
 pleasure. It was not that he cared for religion, but 
 he loved fighting for its own sake, and was never con- 
 tented unless he could keep Louis occupied with some 
 kind of warfare. 
 16 
 
242 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 The king began his operations by what were con- 
 sidered mild measures. The Huguenots were preached 
 at and talked to, and when this failed, bribes were 
 offered to them. Those who were willing to chansre 
 
 O CD 
 
 their religion were excused from having soldiers 
 billeted upon them, while those who continued firm 
 had an extra number. Children were allowed at 
 seven years old to say which form of worship they 
 chose, and if they said "The Mass," they could be 
 taken away from their parents and brought up by the 
 priest. ' 
 
 All this, however, made but little impression on the 
 great mass of the Protestants, who were quite as much 
 attached to their faith as Madame de Maintenon was 
 to hers. Some of them escaped from France into 
 Protestant countries, which brought an order from the 
 king that all who were detected in trying to quit the 
 country should be sent to the galleys. If they offered 
 to sell their property before going away, it was to be 
 confiscated. They were forbidden to hold meetings 
 for religious worship. One order of the King runs 
 thus: "All women not noble found at such assemblies 
 shall be whipped, and branded with the fleur-de-lis." 
 Oh, chivalrous king, who was so polite to women that 
 he never received a curtsey from even a chambermaid 
 without takino- off his hat to her! 
 
 After this came the dragonnades. It was an idea of 
 Louvois's, Squadrons of dragoons were sent into the 
 heretical districts and there quartered on the inhabi- 
 tants, with orders to torment them in every possible 
 manner short of injury to life or limb. Within this 
 limit they had full power. Every brutal outrage that 
 
TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS XIV, 243 
 
 could be devised was perpetrated on the wretched in- 
 habitants by these irresponsible ruffians. 
 
 All this at length produced its effect. The spirit 
 of the people was broken, and many thousands of 
 them became Roman Catholics, or at least professed 
 themselves so. " Not a post arrives," wrote Madame 
 de Maintenon, " without brincrino- the king; tidino;s 
 which fill him with joy; the conversions take place by 
 thousands." In the midst of all this the formal decree 
 of revocation of the Edict of Nantes was signed in the 
 year 1685, eighty-seven years after Henry the Fourth 
 had granted it. 
 
 Not content with this, Louis added other articles. 
 All Huguenot places of worship were to be leveled 
 with the ground; the pastors were to quit the kingdom 
 within a fortnight; their cona;re2:ations were not al- 
 lowed to follow them, and the children must be bap- 
 tized by Roman Catholic priests and brought up in " the 
 Church." 
 
 Notwithstanding the severity of this decree, many 
 of the Huo-uenots refused to obey it, and unspeakable 
 cruelties were practised upon them. The pastors, 
 such as chose to stay with their people, were hanged, 
 burned, or broken alive upon the wheel — a horrible 
 punishment, until then reserved for the basest of crimi- 
 nals. The king probably knew very few of these 
 particulars; he was fully occupied in hearing his 
 praises sung by preachers and poets who were com- 
 paring him to the Emperor Constantine and to Char- 
 lemagne, both upholders of Christianity. 
 
 In spite of the decree forbidding it, the Huguenots 
 contrived to get away by thousands. Through Holland 
 
244 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 in the north and Switzerland in the south, such as 
 could not gain the sea emigrated and joined their 
 friends in England and Germany. It is estimated 
 that between two and three hundred thousand of the 
 most industrious class in France left their country in 
 the fifteen years that remained before the close of the 
 century. But they carried their arts and their skill 
 with them, and the loss of France was her neighbors' 
 gain. 
 
 In the meantime the countries which Louis had so 
 wantonly injured after the peace of Nimeguen had 
 been gathering up their strength, and formed what 
 they called the " Grand Alliance " against him. He 
 did not wait for the attack, but sent his armies into 
 German}^ and conquered the district called the Palati- 
 nate. Being obliged afterward to abandon this, he 
 ordered it, by the advice of Louvois, to be laid waste, 
 to prevent its being occupied by the enemy. The un- 
 happy inhabitants found the horrors which had befallen 
 them under Turenne far exceeded. Vineyards were 
 destroyed, orchards cut down, houses burned; 
 even the graveyards were invaded and the bones of 
 the dead scattered over the plain. The magnificent 
 palace of the Elector at Heidelberg was blown up. 
 One hundred thousand people^ driven from their 
 homes, wandered over the country calling down the 
 vengeance of Heaven on the cruelty of their oppress- 
 ors. 
 
 At about the same time James the Second was 
 driven from the throne of England by an outraged 
 people who could endure his tyranny no longer, and 
 Louis sent him men and money, and fought two battles 
 
TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS XIV. 245 
 
 in his behalf — one by land in Ireland called the Battle 
 of the Boyne, and one at sea off Cape La Hogue, in Nor- 
 mandy. Both were unsuccessful; William of Orange 
 was raised to the vacant throne, and James, hospitably 
 received by Louis, spent the rest of his life at St. 
 Germain, discontented and ungrateful. 
 
 The war against the Grand Alliance was closed in 
 1697 by the Peace of Ryswick, at which Louis was 
 forced to give back many of his conquests, to acknowl- 
 edge William of Orange as king of England, and even 
 to destroy the fortifications of Strasburg and other 
 places on which he had spent enormous sums of money. 
 So the closing years of the seventeenth century found 
 France once more at peace. 
 
 But what a peace ! It was the quiet of utter exhaus- 
 tion. It is said " the people were perishing to the 
 sound of Te Deunis. " Their usual food was rye por- 
 ridge, though the best paid laborers, Avho earned 
 about eight cents a day, could sometimes buy a little 
 refuse meat from the butchers' shops. But, rich or 
 poor, they must furnish three meals of meat a day to 
 the soldiers billeted upon them. The monstrous 
 extravaoance of the kino; and the court had somewhat 
 abated, however, and life at the palace was pronounced 
 very dull by those who remembered the splendors of 
 Marly and the entertainments at Yersailles. At the 
 time of the Peace of Ryswick, Louis was already mak- 
 ing plans which led to anew war more destructive than 
 the last. 
 
 This was called the war of the Spanish succession. 
 Charles the Second of Spain having died without 
 children, the throne was claimed by those of his two 
 
246 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 sisters, one of whom had married Louis the Fourteenth 
 and the other one the Emperor of Germany. 
 
 Maria Theresa had solemnly renounced at her mar- 
 riage with Louis all right to the crown of Spain for 
 herself and her descendants, but the old question of the 
 unpaid dowry came up, and Louis determined to claim 
 the country for his grandson, the second son of the 
 Dauphin. The young prince was duly equipped and 
 sent off to Spain to reign there as Philip the Fifth, 
 Louis saying as he embraced him at parting, " Go, 
 my child ! there are no longer any Pyrenees !" 
 
 He meant that France and Spain would from that 
 time be like only one kingdom, but he ought to have 
 remembered that though he willed that there should 
 be no Pyrenees, there was still an England, a Holland 
 and a Germany, that might object to the breaking 
 down of the partition- wall between the two countries. 
 
 The Emperor of Germany of course resisted this 
 claim, thinking that his own son had the best right to 
 it, and while he was preparing to go to war with Louis, 
 the latter very foolishly united all Protestant Europe 
 against him by acknowledging the right of James 
 Stuart, (the son of James the Second of England, who 
 had just died), to the throne of England. This brought 
 England into the quarrel, and though Louis might 
 have coped with Germany alone, the two together 
 were irresistible. 
 
 The two greatest generals of the age commanded 
 the armies of the enemies of France; the Duke of 
 Marlborough that of England, Prince Eugene of Savoy 
 that of Germany. In the course of five years they 
 routed the French at Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde 
 
TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS XIV. 247 
 
 and Malplaquet, besides gaining lesser victories. Tiie 
 French soldiers fought with the utmost bravery; but 
 ill spite of this, the Emperor's son was proclaimed in 
 Spain under the title of Charles the Third, and Philip 
 was obliged to fly from his capital. 
 
 Well might the old king write to him: "If you 
 thought it was going to be an easy or pleasant thing to 
 be a king, you were very much mistaken! " 
 
 Nature seemed to be against Louis as well as man. 
 The winter of 1708-9 was so frightfully cold that even 
 the rushino; waters of the Rhone were frozen over, and 
 the olive-trees perished in the ground. The peasantry 
 died by thousands of cold and hunger. The whole year 
 was one of fearful famine. The s-rain sown did not 
 germinate, but withered in the ground, and the fruit- 
 trees remained leafl.ess. The king sent his silver 
 and gold table-dishes to be coined into money to buy 
 food for the poor, and many of the nobles followed his 
 example, but what was gained did not go far. Madame 
 de Maintenon set the example to the court of eating- 
 bread made of oatmeal instead of wheat, because it 
 cost less, and sincere efforts were made to relieve the 
 general distress. But it was all like a drop in the 
 bucket so long as a costly war was going on; and at 
 length the king brought his proud mind to beg for 
 peace. 
 
 By this time the allies had become so haughty in 
 their demands that they rejected all reasonable pro- 
 posals, and insisted on such as Louis felt compelled to 
 refuse. Among other things they required that he 
 should himself drive his grandson from the throne of 
 Spain, by force of arms if necessary. " No," said he. 
 
248 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 " if I must fight let it be ag-ainst my enemies, and not 
 against my own flesh and blood." He made an appeal 
 to the people of France asking for their help, and an 
 enthusiastic reply came from all classes urging him to 
 refuse the insulting proposition. 
 
 Fortune now began to take a turn in his favor. His 
 generals gained some brilliant victories, and drove the 
 Emperor's son out of Spain. The English quarreled 
 among themselves at home, and recalled their greatest 
 general, Marlborough, on account of his politics. 
 Finally the long wished-f or peace was signed at Utrecht 
 in 1713, and ended the war of the Spanish Succession 
 — a desolatino- struof-crle between rival kino-s, to decide 
 which of them should impose a ruler over a foreign 
 people who were never asked to make their own 
 choice. As if kings were drovers and their subjects 
 cattle ! Louis had nothins; to show for this dreadful 
 war of twelve years but an empty purss, an enormous 
 public debt, and the miserable satisfaction of having 
 succeeded in establishing: his errandson in Madrid, 
 while the Pyrenees were still as high and ragged as 
 ever. 
 
 His last years were very sad. One after another his 
 family were borne to the grave, so that before his turn 
 came he was left almost alone. When he was seventy- 
 three years old his only lawful son, the Grand-Dauphin^ 
 died suddenly of small-pox. He was a man of no 
 great mark, but his oldest son, becoming Dauphin in 
 his turn, promised the French a better king than they 
 had had since Henry the Fourth. This was the Duke 
 of Burgundy, whose character seems to have been a 
 union of all the virtues. His instructor was the celebra- 
 
TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS XIV. 249 
 
 ted Fenelon, who wrote for him the story of Teleraaque, 
 so well known to the school children of a few 
 years ago. His wife was the lovely Adelaide of Savoy, 
 whose charming manners, kind heart and unvarying- 
 good temper and spriglitliness had made her the idol 
 of the palace and the delight of the old king. 
 
 "When she went out at night to balls or other court 
 festivities Louis always expected her to make him a 
 visit before going to bed, when she would perch on 
 the arm of his chair and rattle off the news of the 
 evening for his amusement. A few months after the 
 Grand-Dauphin's death this fascinating young princess 
 died suddenly of a kind of measles; her husband, 
 utterly broken-hearted, was laid in the grave six days 
 afterwarcj, and their oldest son, the third dauphin in 
 succession, died a fortnight later. Two years after 
 this, the youngest son of the Grand-Dauphin, also died 
 very suddenly; and Louis the Fourteenth at seventy- 
 six years old, \^^as left with no other descendants than 
 his grandson, the young king of Spain, and his great 
 grandson, a sickly boy of four years old, second son of 
 the Duke of Burgundy. In another year his own long 
 life came to an end, and this feeble youth succeeded 
 him as Louis tlie Fifteenth. 
 
 When the king found that he had but a short time 
 to live he called his great-grandson to his bedside, and 
 in the presence of the courtiers who crowded around, 
 made him an address which the prince afterwards had 
 framed, and hung up over the head of his bed, though 
 unfortunately it never influenced his conduct. 
 
 " My child," said the dying man, "you are going to 
 be a great king. Remember your duty to God; try 
 
250 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 to keep peace with your neighbors. I have loved 
 war too much ; do not be like me in that, nor in the 
 useless spending of money. Try to improve the 
 condition of your people, which I have been so unfor- 
 tunate as not to be able to do. Darling, I give you 
 my blessing with all my heart." Hearing some of 
 his servants sobbing, he said, " What are you crying 
 for? Did you think that I was immortal?" He 
 remarked to Madame de Maintenon, " It is not so hard 
 to die as I thought it would be." When he was 
 told that prayers were offered in the churches for his 
 life, he said, " That is not worth while. It is my 
 salvation that needs praying for." And thus passed 
 away another in the long procession of kings, each 
 possessing great powers for good and evil, who so 
 used those powers that we come to their last hours with 
 a sense of relief. 
 
 " I loved war too much," the king had said on his 
 death -bed. It was too late now for his people to bene- 
 fit by the discovery. His reign of seventy-two years 
 had brought them so low that instead of sorrow there 
 was open rejoicing among them at his death. If he 
 had set an example to his successor of wise and just 
 government, instead of leaving him some cheap good 
 advice, France might have been saved the woful mis- 
 eries which the eighteenth century was to see it suffer. 
 
 The age of Louis the Fourteenth is graced by many 
 great names. Poets, dramatists, painters and sculp- 
 tors, distinguished preachers, elegant essayists, and 
 men of science in almost every department, shed a 
 lustre over the period. 
 
 The large-hearted Fenelon said of Louis, " God 
 
TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS XIV. 251 
 
 will surely have compassion upon a prince beset 
 from his youth by flatterers." One incident will show 
 you the nature of his early training. While he was a 
 boy, the Prince of Conde, one of the most distin- 
 guished men in his kingdom, entered the room where 
 he was studying with his tutor. Louis, with a natural 
 feeling of respect and politeness, rose, and began to 
 converse with his visitor bareheaded. One of the 
 persons present gravely took the young king's hat 
 from the chair where he had placed it, and presented 
 it to him. The prince, noticing this, observed, " That 
 is quite right; your Majesty should be covered when 
 you converse with your subjects. You do us sufficient 
 honor by a bow." What could one expect from a 
 youth brought up in such a school as this, but bound- 
 less self-sufficiency and arrogance? 
 
 There was one person living during this reign, who, 
 though not historically important, is so often men- 
 tioned that it is worth while to give him a place here. 
 This is " The Man in the Iron Mask," whose face was 
 never seen even by his jailors, and who was kept in 
 prison many years and finally died there. The mask, 
 by the way, was not iron, but black velvet, fastened 
 on by steel springs. For a long time this mysterious 
 personage was supposed to have been either a twin- 
 brother of Louis or some other highly connected 
 individual; but more recent research makes it likely 
 that he was only a foreign ambassador who had had 
 the misfortune to offend the "Grand Monarque." 
 We can hardly believe it now, but it is none the less 
 sadly true that many persons were thrown into prison 
 without trial and often without the least information 
 
252 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 to their friends as to what had become of them. They 
 saw nobody, could write no letters, and often died in 
 their wretched dungeons or cachots^ (places of hiding)^ 
 apparently forgotten by the whole world. 
 
 In looking over the one hundred and five years 
 which elapsed from the accession of Louis the Thir- 
 teenth to the death of his son, we see a great change 
 for the worse in France. Henry and Sully left it 
 rich and prosperous; Louis the Fourteenth left it 
 overwhelmed with debt, its trade and agriculture 
 depressed by causeless wars, its people so accustomed 
 to despotism that they had forgotton the meaning of 
 freedom. All the splendid palaces the country could 
 contain would not make up for such a loss as that. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI, 
 
 LOUIS xY. 1715-1774. 
 
 HAVE seen somewhere a picture of the little 
 Kino- Louis the Fifteenth as he was led out 
 upon the balcony of his palace to be shown to 
 the people after his great-grandfather's death. He 
 looks almost like a baby, though he was five years old 
 at that time, and in the picture he has a purple sash 
 round his waist, of which the ends are held by two 
 ladies to keep him from tumbling down. There was 
 not a person nearly enough related to him, according 
 to court notions, to lead him by the hand. 
 
 Poor little fellow! It is sad to see him so lonelv, so 
 
LOUIS XV. 253 
 
 "great" and so helpless. The late king had made a 
 will appointing a council of Regency to govern during 
 his minority, but this will was treated like so much 
 waste paper, and the Duke of Orleans, one of the 
 worst men in the kino-dom, was made Reo-ent. He 
 was absolutely without principle, and led so shameful 
 a private life that it would have been impossible to 
 find any one to set a worse example to the young king. 
 
 The Regent had a great desire to be popular, and 
 began his reign by opening the prison-doors to num- 
 bers of the miserable people shut up in cachots, many 
 of whom had been confined there for offences now for- 
 gotten. Some of them never knew why they had 
 been imprisoned at all. One v/as a traveler from 
 Italy who had been arrested and thrown into prison 
 on the very day of his arrival in Paris, thirty-five years 
 before; it was thought it must have been a mistake! 
 Such are the results of trusting any man with power 
 for which he is not responsible to his fellow-country- 
 men. 
 
 This was a good beginning, but the next acts of the 
 Regent were not so cr-editable to him. A Chamber 
 of Justice (so called) soon became a court of frightful 
 tyranny. Under pretence of exposing frauds com- 
 mitted against the government, a general prosecution 
 was beo'un acfainst contractors and others, in which 
 torture was frequently used to make the victim confess 
 a crime and give up his money. To make sure of being 
 arrested, a man needed only to be rich and outside of 
 the circle of the court. Many people were known even 
 to commit suicide to escape the grasp of the law. 
 
 All this did little good to the finances, for, as usual, 
 
254 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the rich and noble contrived to seize a great part of 
 the money thus gained, so that it could not be applied 
 to the use of the country. The national revenue had 
 been exhausted for three years ahead by mortgaging 
 the taxes; that is, getting loans from rich people, to be 
 collected by them from the taxes of the next three 
 years, and there were no more lenders to be found. 
 Then the old plan was resorted to of debasing the 
 coin. People were required to bring their money to 
 the mint and to receive back new coins containing 
 only four-fifths of the precious metal, and these were 
 to pass current for the whole value. 
 
 It was daring the regency of Orleans that the strange 
 commercial delusion called the " Mississippi Scheme" 
 arose in France. This scheme was contrived by a 
 Scotchman named John Law, who thought he was going 
 to make the country and himself immensely rich by it. 
 The Regent, distracted by the need of money, eagerly 
 grasped at the idea. Law's first plan was only that the 
 government should issue a great quantity of paper mon- 
 ey, which is merely a promise to pay gold and silver at 
 some later time, and is very convenient if the gold 
 and silver are ready to be paid when that time comes, 
 which was not the case in France under the Regency. 
 
 At first the success of the plan was something won- 
 derful. The government paid all its debts promptly, 
 (in paper); money (so called) was plenty, and every 
 body felt rich. Before this joyful state of feeling 
 had time to cool ofi^, Law got up a company in connec- 
 tion with the Bank, to trade in Louisiana, which had 
 in the last reign been taken possession of by France. 
 It was reported that there was enough gold and silver 
 
LOUIS XV. 255 
 
 on tKe banks of the Mississippi to furnish the world, 
 and a stock company was formed w^hich gave people 
 who put their money into it the right to a certain pro 
 portion of the profits. The amount required for the 
 enterprise M^as divided into shares, and the person who 
 could buy the most of these shares would, according to 
 the plan, be the richest in the end, and so everybody, 
 from princes to chambermaids, rushed to subscribe to 
 the stock. 
 
 By-and-by there began to be whispers that all was 
 not rio-ht. Emio-rants were sent over to the land of 
 promise, and the city of New Orleans was founded 
 and named after the Regent, but the ships laden with 
 gold did not appear in the harbors. Instead of them 
 came letters from the emigrants telling of cruel neg- 
 lect, disappointment and suffering. Some far-sighted 
 people began to dispose privately of their shares and 
 bank-notes. The Prince of Conti, a member of the 
 Royal family, and one of the richest men in the king- 
 dom, forced the bank to redeem his notes, and secured 
 three cart-loads of coin. Soon there was as great a 
 rush to sell Mississippi shares as there had been to buy 
 them. Then the bank declared itself unable to pay 
 the cash for its notes, and the nation was bankrupt. 
 Words fail to give an idea of the distress produced 
 by this fearful blow. Thousands who had been well 
 off were reduced to beggary. The price of provisions 
 became so high that multitudes actually died of starv- 
 ation. The scheme which was to have paid off the 
 public debt increased it by nearly a hundred millions. 
 Law, who had at least the merit of believinof in his 
 own plans, and had brought a large fortune to Franco 
 
256 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 with hiin, fled from the country, taking scarcely 
 eno .gh money to supply him with the necessaries of 
 life. He died in poverty, maintaining to the last that 
 his ideas were correct, and that only unavoidable mis- 
 fortune had prevented him from realizing his highest 
 hopes. 
 
 The eight years of misrule under the fickle and 
 indolent Recent, and Cardinal Dubois his infamous 
 minister, were now drawino- to an end. Both these 
 men, worn out with dissipation, died in the year when 
 the young king was declared of age to govern for 
 himself. A distinguished writer says of the new king, 
 " There was nothing royal about him but his face." 
 He was handsome, cold-hearted, fond of low pleasures, 
 and utterly averse to books^ as well as to all other sorts 
 of learning; his own pleasure w^as his whole world. 
 As for caring anything about the well-being of his 
 subjects, we cannot imagine him to have ever done it 
 for a moment. Though Louis was no student, he had 
 teachers, as other children have. During ■ the 
 time when he had lessons to learn, as etiquette did 
 not permit the royal youth to receive the whippings 
 w4iich were then thought necessary for children who 
 would not study, his governess hired a poor man's son 
 to study with him and take the whippings for him 
 whenever he deserved them. 
 
 After the death of the Duke of Orleans his place 
 was filled by the Duke of Bourbon, a man who had 
 all the wickedness of Orleans, without his talent. For, 
 three years he misgoverned the unhappy people 
 of France, debasing the coin, levying enormous taxes 
 which were squandered in follies, and making himself 
 
LOUIS XV. 257 
 
 odious to rich as well as poor. His most important 
 publlic act was bringing about a marriage between 
 Louis and Maria Leczynski, the daughter of a deposed 
 king of Poland, who was living on cijarity in Germany. 
 
 The new queen was amiable and rather pretty, but 
 had little force of character, and never obtained any 
 influence over her boy-husband, who soon began to 
 neglect her for other women, according to the fashion 
 of French kings. If we were to imagine the new queen 
 as journeying towards Paris from her obscure retreat in 
 Germany over the beautiful hard roads which now 
 make France such a delightful country to travel in, it 
 would be quite a mistake. A writer of the time says 
 of her arrival, " Never shall I forget the horror of the 
 miseries we were enduring in France when the queen 
 came. * * Everybody was thinking of the harvest, 
 which it had not been possible to get in on account of 
 the continual rains; the poor farmer was watching 
 anxiously for a dry moment; meanwhile, the district 
 was beaten with many a scourge. The peasants had 
 been sent to prepare the roads over which the queen 
 was to pass, but they were only the worse for it, so 
 that her majesty was often within an ace of drowning; 
 the attendants pulled her from the carriage by the 
 strong arm as best they might. In several places she 
 and her suite were swimming in the water which spread 
 everywhere in spite of all the pains that had been 
 taken with the roads by a tyrannical ministry." 
 
 The misconduct of the Duke of Bourbon finally pro- 
 cured his dismissal from office, and Louis turned over 
 the government to his old tutor, the abbe Fleury, who 
 was made Cardinal, that he might be noble enough 
 17 
 
258 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 to have the honor of directino; the kino;'s affairs. He 
 was then seventy-three years old, and might have been 
 thought about ready to leave the scene; but he lived 
 to be ninety, hard at work all the while. The early 
 years of his administration are the brightest spot in that 
 dreadful eighteenth century. Wishing to keep the 
 peace at home, he did not dare to tax the lands of the 
 privileged classes, but he practised such strict economy 
 in all parts of the public business, and even in the 
 king's own household, that no part of the revenue was 
 wasted. The coin was raised to its true standard, com- 
 merce and agriculture began to flourish, new colonies 
 v/cre sent to the far distant America and India, and 
 France had a breathing-spell in which she seemed to 
 be resting after all her troubles. A fair chance 
 was all that she ever needed. 
 
 The few wars which the economical Cardinal Fleury 
 allowed his country to be dragged into under him, were 
 not conducted with much spirit or good judgment until 
 Marshal Saxe, a famous soldier, came to serve in his 
 array. At the battle of Fontenoy he was victorious over 
 the English, and had some other successes which re- 
 stored the good name of France. Over his tomb in 
 Strasburg a monument is st'dl standing, erected, as the 
 inscription upon it says, by Louis XV., "the author 
 and witness of his victories." A very easy way this 
 to be the author of a victory! 
 
 It was after this campaign that Louis acquired the 
 extremely ill-deserved name of " The Well-Beloved " 
 — "Xe hien aimey He was very il), and professed to 
 repent of the bad life he had led — perhaps he did 
 repent of it when he thought he was going to die — 
 
LOUIS XV. 259 
 
 and his people showed the wildest joy when they heard 
 that he was getting well. " If he dies," they cried, 
 " it will be because he went to fight for us! " Louis's 
 cold heart was moved by their aiFection, and he asked 
 with some feeling: " AVhat have I ever done for my 
 people that they should love me so?" but he did not 
 ask, "what can I do hereafter?" It was the last 
 gleam of enthusiastic loyalty. After that there were 
 no more rejoicings until the day of his death. 
 
 Durjno- the course of this war a srreat struo-p-le 
 had taken place between the English and French 
 in India. Thanks to the skill of the French general 
 Dupleix and the bravery of the French troops, their 
 nation came off with the highest honors. When 
 peace was made in 1748 by the treaty of Aix-la-Cha- 
 pelle, it was expected that France would demand some 
 advantages in return for all her losses. Louis, how- 
 ever, remarked that he made war like a prince, not like 
 a merchant; and all that his country had to show for 
 a bloody strife of seven years was a navy almost de- 
 stroyed, commerce ruined and an enormous public 
 debt created. 
 
 The governors of provinces had taken advantage 
 of the weakness which accompanied the good Fleury's 
 great age to oppress the people in the old way, and 
 he himself had imposed a new burden on them called 
 the corvee.) which was an obligation to keep the public 
 highways in order. This was to be done, not by the 
 nobles who traveled over them and whose lands they 
 improved, not by the rich merchants whose goods were 
 carried on them from place to place, but by the laboring 
 men — the peasants — already crushed by their taxes, 
 
260 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 who were required to work on them without pay for a 
 certain number of days in the year. Forced work on 
 public buildings was also part of this imposition. As 
 we read of such things, we wonder that the poor 
 wretches did not rise in a body and revenge themselves 
 on their oppressors, as in the days of the Jacquerie j but 
 their time had not yet come. 
 
 OHAPTEB XXVIL 
 
 THE END OP A BAD LIFE. 1748-1774. 
 
 pANCE had a little rest between the peace of 
 Aix-la-Chape.Ue and the breaking out in 
 1756 of the Seven Years' War — the same 
 which is called in American history the French and 
 Indian War. A country naturally so rich does not 
 take long to recover its strength if it is only let alone; 
 and though the taxes were heavy, the general prosper- 
 ity kept on increasing in spite of them. The colonies 
 in America, especially those in the West Indies, were 
 beginning to be profitable. Those who looked at the 
 country only from the outside thought that all was 
 going well. 
 
 But the king — what shall we say of him? The less 
 said about him the better. During the war he had 
 shown some gleams of courage and spirit; now these 
 were all gone, and he gave himself up entirely to a 
 woman named Madame de Pompadour, who in fact 
 ruled France for twenty years. All public business 
 
THE END OF A BAD LIFE. 261 
 
 went on in her boudoir; the first people in the land 
 were candidates for her favor, since nothing could be 
 got from the king without her influence; even 
 generals in the army and bishops in the church were 
 appointed by her means. What kind of generals and 
 bishops they Avere likely to be can be easily imagined. 
 
 The expenditure of the public money became 
 frio-htful. The favorite was allowed to draw bills " at 
 sight" upon the treasury, signed by her with the 
 king's name, for whatever amounts she chose; it was 
 the business of the king's ministers to pay these bills 
 when they were presented, and to find money for the 
 purpose by borrowing or by taxes. To try to please 
 the worn-out king, Madame de Pompadour built one 
 costly pleasure-house after another, decorating them 
 according to her own fancy, and squandering such 
 countless sums of money on them as exceeded even 
 the wasteful expenditures of Louis the Fourteenth. 
 If her patronage had done the fine arts any good we 
 might have had more patience with her, but the things 
 she delighted in were so ugly that the age she lived 
 in has been called " the era of bad taste." 
 
 In the midst of the disorders which were the natural 
 consequence of such a state of things, a man named 
 Damiens tried to assassinate the king by stabbing him 
 with a pen-knife. The blow scarcely drew blood, but 
 the king was greatly alarmed, thinking that the weapon 
 might have been poisoned. He had the presence of 
 mind to point out the assassin, whom he recognised 
 by his being the only man in the crowd with a hat on; 
 then went home and took to his bed, sending post- 
 haste for his physician and his confessor. When the 
 
262 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 wound was discovered to be a mere scratch, he 
 troubled himself no longer about the state of his soul, 
 but went on in his old way. All the tortures that 
 could be applied failed to draw from the murderer the 
 name of any one who had knowledge of his intention, 
 and he was executed as Ravaillac had been, according; 
 to the barbarous law of the times. Holes were torn in 
 his flesh with red-hot pincers, and then melted lead 
 was poured into the wounds. These tortures were 
 continued for four hours, the executioners being careful 
 not to touch any part that could affect his life. 
 When it was plain that he could bear no more, 
 his hands and feet were tied to four horses, which 
 were then driven in different directions, tearing his 
 body to pieces. 
 
 If we were not told it on good authority we could 
 not believe that all this was done in an open square, 
 while the windows and balconies overlooking it were 
 crowded with " noble " lords and ladies, delighting in 
 the spectacle. 
 
 During the time we have described, the Seven Years' 
 War had begun, (1756). To the astonishment of all 
 Europe, Louis joined himself with Austria, which had 
 for more than two hundred years been the enemy of 
 France. The secret of this was that the Empress- 
 Queen, Maria Theresa, had written a letter with her 
 own hand, (a rare honor among kings and queens), 
 to Madame de Pompadour, in which she addressed 
 her as " cousin," as if she had been really a queen : 
 and this so flattered her vanity that she made Louis 
 take the part of Austria against England and Prussia. 
 
 As usual, we will omit here the details of- the war. 
 
THE END OF A BAD LIFE. 263 
 
 We have read in American history the part that most 
 interests us; the expedition against Fort Du Quesne 
 by Braddock and Washington, the taking of Quebec 
 by Wolfe, and the driving away from their homes of 
 the simple-minded j^easants of Acadia, (now Nova 
 Scotia), by the English. These incidents are much 
 more interesting to us than what went on in Europe 
 during that cruel struggle which ended in taking away 
 from France almost all her possessions in America 
 except the wilderness west of the Mississippi. For 
 her it was a most disgraceful peace. England got the 
 best of everything that was to be given away, in Europe, 
 Asia, Africa and America. Spain was obliged to give 
 up several rich colonies, while Austria and Prussia, 
 who had lost, between them, three hundred and twenty 
 thousand men and millions of money, remained jDre- 
 cisely as they were before the war. 
 
 This treaty was even more distasteful to the French 
 nation tl\an that of Aix-la-Chapelle had been, and from 
 this time they looked upon the king with open con- 
 tempt. The feeling of loyalty was dead in their hearts, 
 and they only sighed for the time when the figure that 
 disfjraced the throne should be removed from it. 
 Louis had a succession of ministers who have been 
 compared to the figures in a kaleidoscope, so rapidly 
 did they shift and vary according to the turns of 
 court favor. Of these, the only one who can be men- 
 tioned with honor was the Duke de Choiseul : he, 
 though he made some mistakes, seems really to have 
 had the good of his country at heart. He could not 
 stop the river of corruption nor revive the dead body 
 of the public credit, but he did what he could, and the 
 
264 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 French grovernment became more respectable than it 
 had been since the early days of Fleury. 
 
 Among the events of those troubled times, one which 
 must not be be passed over, was the suppression in 
 France of the famous order of the Jesuits, or Roman 
 Catholic " Society of Jesus." It would be impossible 
 to explain, in our small space, ail the causes which led 
 to this result; but Choiseul was the chief mover in it. 
 Their property was taken away from them, and their 
 society declared to be at an end in 1773. 
 
 While Choiseul w^as at the head of affairs, France 
 gained possession of a piece of territory that she has 
 has since been very proud of. This was a small rocky 
 island in the Mediterranean, southeast of France, called 
 Corsica. In former times it had belonged to Genoa, 
 in Italy; but being very harshly treated by the Geno- 
 ese, the Corsicans had rebelled and were now strug- 
 gling for independence. Genoa, despairing of con- 
 quering these brave islanders, sold her claim, such as 
 it was, to France. In vain did the Corsicans protest 
 against this, saying that they were not to be bought 
 and sold like a flock of sheep sent to market. In vain 
 did they make at the battle of Golo a rampart of 
 their dead and wounded together, behind which 
 they could reload their guns. After three years' fight- 
 ing the French succeeded in putting down the re- 
 bellion, and two months after the final submission 
 of Corsica a child was born there who will appear in 
 our history under the name of Napoleon Bonaparte. 
 
 Previous to this time a remarkable series of deaths 
 had occurred in the ro3'-al family, which remind us of 
 the last years of Louis the Fourteenth, The Dauphin, 
 
THE END OF A BAD LIFE. 265 
 
 a man in every respect the opj30site of his father, lived 
 a pure and virtuous lite in the company of hii mother, 
 Maria Leczynski, and his wife and children, as distinct 
 from that of the vile court as if they had been on an- 
 other continent. This oasis in the desert was broken 
 up by the death of the Dauphin, his wife and his 
 mother, all within a short time, leavino; his three sons 
 to grow up without the tender care which had watched 
 over their infancy. These sons were afterward Louis 
 the Sixteenth, Louis the Eighteenth, and Charles the 
 Tenth. 
 
 It seems to bring the events we are observing very 
 near to us when we know that the youngest of these 
 brothers lived until 1836, a time within the memory 
 of many of our parents. 
 
 Madame de Pompadour was dead, but her place was 
 soon supplied by an infamous woman whom Louis made 
 Countess Du Barry. The Duke de Choiseul, Louis's 
 prime minister, remonstrated with the king against 
 this new scandal, and Du Barry never rested until she 
 had procured his disgrace — for that is what it was con- 
 sidered to 1)6 dismissed irom the royal council. A 
 " lettre de cachet " requested Choiseul to retire to his 
 estate in the country, where he spent the rest of his 
 life in the company of intelligent and cultivated peo- 
 ple, and was happier tlian he had ever been while 
 breathing the impure air of the court. 
 
 These " lettres de cachet " were orders under the 
 king's seal, {cachet being the French for seal), for the 
 imprisonment of some person accused or suspected of 
 a crime. They were introduced by Louis the Elev- 
 enth, who thought nothing of shutting up his subjects 
 
266 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 in dungeons without a trial by law, whenever they 
 offended him. Cardinal Richelieu made ffreat use of 
 this privilege. It is related that a distinguished gen- 
 eral of Louis the Thirteenth was shut up for twelve 
 years in the Bastille without ever being able to find 
 out the reason. At the end of the first seven years 
 the king said to Richelieu that it was against his con- 
 science to keep any longer in prison a man like the 
 Marshal de Bassompierre, against whom no charge 
 could be made, and that he must let him go. The 
 Cardinal replied coolly that so many things had passed 
 through his mind since Bassompierre's imprisonment 
 that he really could not remember what was the cause 
 of it. Whereupon the Marshal remained in close con- 
 finement for five years lono-er, not beino: allowed even 
 to see his family, until the death of the Cardinal pro- 
 cured his release. That Louis the Fourteenth was 
 guilty of the use of lettres de cachet is proved hy the 
 number of prisoners released from the cachots when 
 the Duke of Orleans came into office. But the crown- 
 ing shame of it was reserved for the days of Louis the 
 Fifteenth. When all other knOwn ways of getting 
 money were exhausted, blank lettres de cachet were 
 sold to any one who would pay for them, and in this 
 way any rich man could get revenge ujDon an enemy, 
 or any extravagant man could dispose of a trouble- 
 some creditor. One of Louis's ministers is said to have 
 given away many thousands of these orders, merely 
 to make himself popular. 
 
 After the retirement of Choiseul comes a long line 
 of ministers, each with some new plan for extorting 
 money from the people, of whom one, the Abbe 
 
THE END OF A BAD LIFE. 267 
 
 Terray, said they were a sponge, made to be squeezed. 
 This man, with the consent of the king, made a horri- 
 ble arrangement called the "Facte de Famine," — 
 famine-bargain. First of all the farmers w^ere forbid- 
 den to send their grain to other countries for sale. 
 This made the price* very low in France, where great 
 quantities were thrown on the merchants' hands 
 because there was no sale for it. Terray then bought 
 up all that he could get at this low rate, sent it out of 
 the country in government vessels, and then had it 
 brought back again and sold at an enormous price. 
 The 'king was a partner in the profits of this enter- 
 prise. If any indignant citizen dared to urter a word 
 of complaint, a lettre de cachet promptly sent him to 
 the Bastille. 
 
 This is only one among hundreds of such outrages 
 that might be mentioned, but which it is useless to 
 dwell upon. It was like pouring water into a sieve to 
 try to fill the ever-grasping hand of Du Barry.. The 
 king, sunk in sloth, permitted those about him to do 
 as they pleased so long as his pleasures were not inter- 
 fered with; and when warned that his country was 
 on the very edge of a volcano, would laugh and say, 
 "Never mind; it will last out my time!" And his 
 favorites echoed, " After us may come the Deluge." 
 After them the deluge did come, a deluge of blood. 
 
 The condition of the peasants daily grew worse, 
 though this seems hardly possible. The poorest were 
 really serfs, bought and sold with the land they lived 
 on, for they had no power to change their place. 
 Whole tracts of land were turned into game preserves 
 where animals ran wild, certain always to destroy the 
 
2G8 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 crops of the poor man whose land lay in the way. 
 " Protected " hares often ate a fifth of what he raised. 
 The noble might, (and often did), forbid him to plough 
 his ground for fear of disturbing the young game, or 
 to manure it properly for fear of destroying its flavor, 
 but the tax-o^atherer came round as usual. Four times 
 a year each family was compelled to buy a certain 
 quantity of salt, whether they wished it or not, that 
 the gabelle might help to fill the king's empty purse. 
 The corvee ruined thousands of farmers who had to 
 give their labor on roads and bridges when they were 
 called upon for it, though their crops might be perish- 
 ing for want of attention. The king's business al- 
 ways came first. 
 
 During these many years of despotism, the Parlia- 
 ments alone, the ancient courts of law, preserved some 
 sort of independence. They had many a struggle 
 with the king in which to the last they kept their self- 
 respect, until, finding that they could not be controlled, 
 Louis abolished them altogether, appointing in their 
 place bodies of men who he thought could be more 
 easily managed. 
 
 Towards the close of this reign occurred the first of 
 those disgraceful " partitions " of Poland among 
 Russia, Austria and Prussia, which the other powers 
 in Europe tamely looked on and allowed. France 
 made no protest, and the king observed, as if he had 
 been an indifferent spectator, that had Ohoiseul been 
 at the head of his ministry such an occurrence could 
 not have taken place. 
 
 For a lono; time nothino- had been so much desired 
 in France as the death of the king. At last the wished- 
 
LOUIS XVI. 269 
 
 for moment came. After a reign of nearly fifty-nine 
 years, Louis the Fifteenth was about to leave the 
 world, and the only fear of his people was that he 
 might get well again. The disease was malignant 
 small-pox; and though his daughters had never had it, 
 they shut themselves up in the loathsome sick-room 
 to nurse him, and remained there till all was over. 
 Then the corpse, forced into a coffin too small for it, 
 was hurried to St. Denis at full gallop, amidst the 
 scoffs and insults of the populace. 
 
 "A terrible noise, like thunder," says a writer of 
 the time, was heard in the palace as soon as Louis's 
 death was announced. It was the crowd of courtiers, 
 hurrying Avith all their might to congratulate the new 
 king and queen. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIIL 
 
 LOUIS XVI. 1774-1793. 
 
 HEN Louis the Sixteenth and his young wife 
 were told of the old King's death, they fell on 
 their knees, crying, " Oh, God, help us! We 
 are too young to reign." Young or old, it would have 
 made little difference. With such a legacy of misery 
 and confusion as they fell heirs to, anjl their imperfect 
 education, so little fitting them for the part they were 
 to play in life, it was impossible that they should not 
 fail. 
 
 Louis had been married, four years before, to Marie 
 Antoinette, daughter of Maria Theresa of Austria. 
 
270 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 lie was now twenty years old, his queen a year younger. 
 During the days of his grandfather's worst degra- 
 dation, after the Dauphin's death, he had been called 
 " Louis le .Desire'''' — " the Desired." He had had a good 
 education as far as books went, but had never been 
 tauffht the duties of a kino;. These he had to feel out 
 for himself, and a book of " Reflections " written by 
 him, shows us how hard he struggled to do his duty and 
 act for the best interests of his people. 
 
 Marie Antoinette had been brought up even worse 
 than her husband. Married at fifteen, she was ignorant 
 of everything but how to appear to advantage in society. 
 She was thoughtless, extravagant and self-willed, and 
 had not that fine quality called tact., which would have 
 enabled her, with her handsome face and charming 
 manners, to make friends with all classes of people. 
 As it was, she offended the stiff old ladies in her train 
 by ridiculing the tedious etiquette of their court, and 
 disgusted the common people by her want of sympathy 
 for them and by her frivolous amusements and occupa- 
 tions. Even the most stupid of Louis's subjects were 
 beginning to feel that they had some rights of their 
 own, though few people had yet been found bold 
 enough to say so. When some one asked the king by 
 what quality he would like to be known, he said that if he 
 could have his choice, he would like to be called " Louis 
 the Severe." Poor Louis ! he was only the In- 
 consistent. Timid and hesitating when something 
 of importance was to be decided, — obstinate in the 
 wrong place and yielding in the wrong place, — scarce- 
 ly any misfortune could have happened to him so 
 great as to be born a king. 
 
LOUIS XVI. 271 
 
 Although he was extremely popular in the beginning 
 of his reign, before people knew much about him, he 
 soon lost favor by his unkingly ways and appearance. 
 Instead of the fine features and lofty gait of his grand- 
 father, he had a heavy, rather vulgar-looking face, a 
 shuffling step, (a great disadvantage to a man in any 
 station), a slow, hesitating way of speaking, and an 
 awkward manner. He might have had all these combin- 
 ed with sound judgment and discretion, but he did 
 not. They were only the signs of a weak and vacil- 
 lating, though upright soul. Louis made a bad choice 
 of a first minister. Reappointed the Count de Maure- 
 pas, a foolish old courtier, with a head full of antiquated 
 notions instead of the new thoughts and ideas which 
 were gaining ground in France every day. A better 
 selection was that of the Minister of Finance, Turgot, 
 w4io was in money matters the ablest statesman the 
 eighteenth century had yet seen. 
 
 His motto was, "No more borrowing, no bankrupt- 
 cies, no new taxes." He wished to abolish the odious 
 corvee^ and in its place to lay a very moderate tax on 
 land, which w^ould bring the burden of public improve- 
 ments where it belonged, on those who were to profit 
 by them. This excellent regulation was violently op- 
 posed by the land-owners, who declared that it 
 would ruin them, and the Parliament refused to reg- 
 ister it. The king, who approved of Turgot's plans, 
 and would gladly have seen them carried out, held 
 a "bed of justice''' and compelled the court to reg- 
 ister the law, but it was done with sullen anger, 
 which showed that a storm was comino-. It mi^ht 
 have been possible, even then, to save the country 
 
272 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 if the " privileged classes " could have been per- 
 suaded to do their share towards it, but they were 
 blinded bv mistaken self-interest, and rushed headlons: 
 to their ruin. 
 
 We have not space to tell of all the wise measures 
 proposed by Turgot and resisted by the country as if 
 he had been its worst enemy, even the very people he 
 was trying to help often taking part against him. 
 The queen, who did not know what self-denial meant, 
 disliked him because he insisted on reducing the 
 expenses of the royal household. The king, though 
 he had promised to support Turgot in all his plans, 
 weakly gave way in the face of so much opposition; 
 and this admirable minister, the only man who could 
 have brought order out of the chaos which prevailed 
 in France, was abruptly dismissed. His friend 
 Malesherbes, another wise and patriotic man to whom 
 Louis had given a high position, saw how useless all 
 their efforts were, and also resigned his place. 
 
 The defeat of such men was a great triumph for 
 the wealthy classes, which included not only the 
 nobility but many merchants and others whose gains 
 would have been lessened by the free-trade that 
 Turgot tried to establish between different parts of 
 France. All attempts at reform were now abandoned. 
 Louis invited M. Necker,* a celebrated Swiss banker, 
 to take charge of the finances. 
 
 But Necker had not the boldness of Turgot. lie did 
 not interfere with the privileges of the great lords or 
 the wealthy merchants, but he was successful in raising 
 
 *Jltf. before French names, stands for Monsieur. 
 
LOUIS XVL 273 
 
 new loans, and he abolished about six hundred useless 
 offices, making a great saving to the government. 
 Durino: the whole time that he continued in office he 
 refused to accept any salary whatever, that he might 
 with more assurance reduce the salaries paid to others. 
 
 Ever since the death of Louis the Fourteenth 
 there had been in France a set of men who were con- 
 stantly writing and talking about freedom, and trying 
 to make people understand what a bad system they 
 were iivino- under. These men called themselves 
 philosophers; and though in the degraded reign of 
 Louis the Fifteenth many of them had learned to scoff 
 at religion and despise morality, their ideas about free 
 government were just, and were silently preparing 
 people's minds for the great change that was to come 
 before the century closed. 
 
 The American Revolution, which had broken out 
 just before Necker was called into office, had also a 
 great effect in France. It showed that it was possible 
 to rebel against even a very strong government, and, 
 together with the doctrines of the philosophers, it 
 set the French nation to thinking. Matters were 
 brouo;ht to a crisis when our Conm-ess sent the vener- 
 able Benjamin Franklin and two other envoys to Paris 
 to ask for help for the patriots. 
 
 Louis did not wish a war with England, and Necker 
 was opposed to spending money unnecessarily; but 
 the French people were so wild with their new enthu- 
 siasm for liberty that the king did not venture to resist 
 them. He sent some ships of war to this country under 
 the command of his best officers, and in 1778 acknowl- 
 edged the independence of the United States. Before 
 
 18 
 
274 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 this the generous La Fayette had thrown himself and 
 his fortune into our cause as a volunteer; and the 
 names of the French commanders, De Grasse, D'Es- 
 taing and Rochambeau, are familiar to the readers of 
 American history. The support of France was very 
 useful to us in our great struggle, and America has 
 always remained grateful for it. 
 
 Franklin set an example of true republican sim- 
 plicity to the astonished court of Versailles. In the 
 midst of the curled and powdered nobles, with their 
 coats covtired with spangles and embroidery, and their 
 three-cornered hats carried jauntily under the arm, it 
 was refreshing to see the old American with his long, 
 unpowdered hair, his comfortable fur cap, and a drab 
 coat such as a farmer might wear when he took his 
 grain to market. They admired him as they would 
 have done some new and curious animal, and the ladies 
 made a great pet of him. This was not exactly in his 
 line, but as he was satisfied with having succeeded in 
 his mission, he endured it with a good grace. 
 
 The acknowledgment of American independence 
 led immediately to a war between England and France. 
 It is not necessary for us to enter into the particulars 
 of this war. It is enough to say that when peace was 
 made between the three nations at Versailles, in 1783, 
 (at the close of our Revolutionary war), France came 
 off with honor, and the disgrace of the Peace of Paris, 
 at the end of the Seven Years' War, was in some 
 degree wiped out. 
 
 At home she had nothing to be proud of. The 
 extravagance of the queen and her friends, which 
 Louis had not the energy to restrain nor Necker the 
 
LOUIS XVL 275 
 
 power to reduce, kept the treasury empty in spite of 
 all that the Q-reat financier could do. No matter what 
 the minister provided, more was sure to be spent. 
 He did not, as Turgot had done, go to the root of the 
 matter by taxing all in proportion to their means. 
 But even with his half-measures he offended the upper 
 classes so that they made his position very uncomfort- 
 able; and when the imbecile Maurepas denied him a 
 place in the state-council because he was a Protestant, 
 he could bear it no longer. He resigned his office and 
 went back to Switzerland. 
 
 Through all the distresses of the country, and the 
 perplexities of the king, Marie Antoinette and the 
 court pursued their round of gayeties for which the 
 nation was paying so dearly. As the queen grew older 
 she freed herself from the excessive restraints of eti- 
 quette, which were so irksome to her, and her motives 
 were misrepresented by those who had a sioite against 
 her. Of these there were, unfortunately, too many, 
 for she had taken no pains to make herself loved by 
 the people, though she was most gracious to those 
 immediately about her. Her diversions, too, were 
 always of a costly character. Among others, she had 
 what she called an English farm, fitted up near Ver- 
 sailles, into which some millions of francs of the peo- 
 ple's money were poured, that she might amuse her- 
 self according to her fancy. This was called the Little 
 Trianon, to distino-uish it from another called the 
 Great Trianon, built by Louis the Fourteenth. The 
 king's brothers formed part of this court circle, to be 
 supported at the expense of the nation. The elder of 
 these, the Count de Provence, who afterward became 
 
276 
 
 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Louis the Eighteenth, had the most ability of any of 
 the family; the younger, the Count d' Artois, after- 
 ward Charles the Tenth, was dissipated, frivolous and 
 wrong-headed, while the enormous debts which he 
 contracted, without any other means of paying them 
 than by new impositions on the people, showed his 
 utter selfishness and want of principle. 
 
 The King in the meantime was helpless and 
 uneasy. Although economical in his personal expenses, 
 he could not (or did not) prevent the thousands of 
 court parasites from feeding upon the public purse and 
 drawing every year immense pensions for doing 
 
 nothing. 
 
 Louis was extremely fond of hunting and 
 
 of using locksmith's tools; these were the only 
 amusements he cared for. When he could shut 
 himself up for a whole day at a time, working away at 
 locks and keys like a laborer who had a family to 
 provide for, he was happy; but when M. Necker came 
 to talk to him about public afPairs he became restless 
 and confused. He knew that everything was going 
 wrong, but not feeling in himself the power to set 
 it right, he shuffled out of all responsibility whenever he 
 could. When his brother-in-law, the Emperor Joseph 
 the Second, visited Paris, he was astonished to find 
 that Louis had never taken the trouble to visit the 
 Hotel des Invalides (the great hospital for soldiers), 
 nor the military schools of Paris. 
 
 After Necker had retired, Louis tried several differ- 
 ent ministers of finance, but could get none that saw 
 any way out of the difficulties until M. de Calonne, 
 a reckless, dashing man, deeply in debt and distinguish- 
 ed equally for his elegant manners and his dissipated 
 
LOUIS XVI. 211 
 
 life, found out the golden path. His plan was to 
 spend money like water; that w^ould make every body 
 rich. The courtiers got all they wanted, only for 
 the asking; the idea of economy was ridiculed as an 
 old-fashioned prejudice; every one who came in con- 
 tact with the machinery of government was liberally 
 paid, and tlie queen spent more than ever. AVe nat- 
 urally ask where the money was found for all these 
 purposes, when the tax-payers were already so bur- 
 dened that another straw must break their backs. 
 It was done by borrowing! Calonne seemed to think 
 he had invented this operation, so proud was he of 
 the success of his plan. In four years he had bor- 
 rowed no less than eight hundred millions of francs, 
 which there was no provision for paying. Meanwhile 
 the distress of the people was becoming intolerable; 
 angry murmurs arose on all sides, and as it was impos- 
 sible for the goverment to pay even the interest on 
 the loans made to it, the brilliant Calonne thought 
 it was time to try something else. So he called to- 
 gether the Assembly of the Notables. 
 
 The notables were selected almost entirely from 
 what were called the privileged classes — the nobles 
 and the clergy. Calonne made them a speech in 
 which he owned that he could not make the revenue 
 of the country equal to expenses by a hundred rail- 
 lions or so, but laid the blame upon Necker. Then 
 he proposed a remedy more sensible than m.ight bave 
 been expected from him, which was that the nobles 
 and clergy should be taxed as well as the rest of the 
 jDCople. La Fayette — our La Fayette — stood up boldly 
 for this measure, though he was rich and would have 
 
278 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 had to pay large taxes; but he was almost the only 
 one who did. The rest would not listen to it. Calonne 
 was dismissed and another favorite of the queen's, 
 named Brienne, put in his place, but he did no better. 
 Just at this time somebody proposed a meeting of the 
 States-General. 
 
 The word acted like magic. How could they have 
 forgotten that old guardian of the public interests, a 
 representative assembly? They were very tired of 
 being governed by kings and ministers; it had not 
 worked well. Here was something that would set 
 them all right again. The king consented, though 
 rather reluctantly, and recalled Necker, who was 
 quite willing to try once more to hold the helm of the 
 unmanageable ship. Neither of them saw that it was 
 drifting on towards a whirlpool which was to dash it 
 to pieces! 
 
 There were many difficulties in the way of calling 
 together this assembly, which had not been summoned 
 since Louis the Thirteenth came of age, in 1614. A 
 hundred and seventy-five years! Great changes had 
 taken place in that time. , Richelieu and Mazarin. had 
 done their part in taking away from the people all 
 energy for self-government; Louis the Fourteenth 
 had made '* The king wills it" the only reason nec- 
 essary for any act; Louis the Fifteenth had said to the 
 Parliament of Paris, "You have heard my intentions; 
 I desire that you will conform to thera. I order you 
 to begin your duties. I forbid any discussions contrary 
 to my wishes." 
 
 The day for such sayings and doings was over. 
 After all sorts of delays, the States-General opened on 
 
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 279 
 
 tlie fifth day of May, 1789. That clay marks the begin- 
 ning' of the French Revolution; the greatest political 
 and social earthquake the world has ever seen. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE FiiEJS'CH kevolutio:n^. 1789. 
 
 HE Assembly which now met at Versailles 
 was comjDosed of representatives from three 
 distinct classes — the nobles, the clergy and 
 the Third Estate, which last corresponds to the English 
 House of Commons. Each member of each class was 
 elected by votes of citizens belonging to that class. 
 On the day before the opening of the States there was 
 a grand procession of all the members to the church 
 of Notre Dame, to take part in a religious service 
 there. The King was present with all his household 
 — hundreds of lords and ladies, blazing with gold and 
 jewels, and fanning the air with their lofty plumes as 
 they rode along. The nobles who belonged to the 
 States-General wore the fforo-eous costume of the time 
 of Louis the Thirteenth: lon^: cloaks embroidered 
 with gold, lace cravats, and "Henri Quatre " hats 
 turned up at the side, with white plumes. The clergy 
 were in the dress appropriate to their various ranks, 
 from the purple velvet robe of the archbishop to the 
 flowing. mantle and black cassock of the cwre, or parish, 
 priest. The Tiers JEtat or Third Estate, — that is, the 
 Commons, — were required to wear short black cloaks, 
 
280 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 white muslin cravats and a peculiar kind of slouched 
 hat. No. wonder that they looked angrily from their 
 own humble dress, purposely intended to make them 
 look like servants in livery, to the magnificent array 
 of their fellow-workers, and said one to another, "All 
 this is bought with our money!" 
 
 As soon as they had assembled and had listened to 
 a gracious speech from the king, there began to be 
 trouble. The Commons wished that all the Three 
 Estates — the nobles, the clergy and themselves — 
 should vote together; the other two insisted that all 
 business should be done separately. For five weeks 
 the Commons sat awaiting the surrender of the others, 
 refusing even to look over the pile of letters and docu- 
 ments which lay unopened upon their table, for fear 
 of appearing to give up their principles; then, as the 
 rest still held out, the representatives of the common 
 people voted that they would proceed to business at 
 once, with or without the other orders, under the name 
 of the National Assembly. 
 
 The king and court were astonished at such unheard- 
 of boldness, and at once began to devise means for 
 putting it down. Necker proposed to the king that 
 he should hold a "royal sitting" in the Assembly; in 
 other words, that he should go to them in person and 
 tell them wliat he thought of their conduct. 
 
 Under pretence that the Hall of Assembly could not 
 be occupied while the preparations for the king's visit 
 were jroino- on, the members were shut out when thev 
 went as usual the next morning to take their seats. 
 The president, who was the great astronomer Bailly, 
 protested against this, and all the deputies went to a 
 
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 281 
 
 tennis-court near by, where tliey took a solemn oath 
 that thev would continue to meet too-ether for the 
 transaction of public business as long as the condition 
 of the country required it. 
 
 To prevent a second meeting of the Assembly, some 
 of the nobles hit upon the brilliant plan of hiring; the 
 room where they had met for a game of tennis on the 
 next day. As if a body of men like that could be hin- 
 dered in their plans by such childish tricks! The 
 members immediately made arrangements to hold their 
 session in a church. Here they were joined by a large 
 proportion of the clergy, who were more in sympathy 
 with them than with the court party, and the " royal 
 sitting" was announced for the day following. 
 
 There was no end to the foolish devices for mortify- 
 ing and irritating the Assembly. Its members were 
 ordered to enter by a side door, the principal one being 
 reserved for the nobility, and when the President came 
 to this door he found it locked. He knocked repeat- 
 edly to have it opened, but was always told "it was 
 not yet time." There was a pouring rain, and no shel- 
 ter had been provided. The members of the Third 
 Estate waited outside until thev were drenched through, 
 and when they were at last admitted they found the 
 nobles comfortably seated and the king ready to give 
 them his commands. 
 
 His majesty blamed them very much for their bad 
 conduct, but graciously condescended to overlook it, 
 and airreed to various chanjTcs which had been 
 demanded. Too late! too late! It was poor Louis's fate 
 to yield when he should have been firm, and be ob- 
 stinate when he should have yielded. His concessions 
 
282 HISTORY OF FRANCE. . 
 
 were of no use now; they ought to have been 
 made earlier. And he knew the Commons no better 
 than to finish off by ordering the whole assembly to 
 adjourn, — that is, to break up their session for that 
 day, — and re-assemble on the next in their different 
 halls, each estate to transact business b}' itself. In 
 case of a further refusal to do this, Louis hinted pretty 
 plainly that he should dissolve them altogether. 
 
 Blind king! had he forgotten Charles the First of 
 England and his Parliament? Did he think that the 
 Commons of France, after having had a hundred and 
 fifty years to think the matter over in, were going to 
 be any more easily managed than were the Commons 
 of England? 
 
 The king withdrew, followed by the nobles and the 
 o-reater part of the clergy; the assembly kept their 
 seats. In a short time the royal Master of Cere- 
 monies came in and remarked, "Gentlemen, you have 
 heard the orders of the king." "Yes," replied the 
 President, "and I am now about to take the orders of the 
 Assembly." The officer retired, not knowing what to 
 do in such singular circumstances, and the Assem- 
 bly, having been reminded by one of the members 
 that " they were neither more nor less than they had 
 been yesterday," proceeded to vote that any person 
 who should interfere with their liberty should be pun- 
 ished with death. 
 
 It was not a wise thing for the queen and her friends 
 to do to advise Louis to call together a body of troops 
 for his defence, but these unfortunate people never did 
 wise things. All their actions at this time seem to us, 
 looking as we do at both sides of the question in the 
 
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 283 
 
 light of history, to be Very foolish. There were many 
 desperate people in Paris at that time, for there was a 
 terrible scarcity of food; and notliing was easier than 
 to rouse them to fury and lead them on to wild deeds 
 of bloodshed and revenge. 
 
 The news that Necker, the people's favorite, had been 
 dismissed, was the spark that set fire to the train. A 
 furious mob collected in the gardens of the Palais Royal, 
 where a young man named Oamille Desmoulins sprang 
 upon a table and made a speech about Liberty that 
 drove them more frantic than ever. Then seizing a 
 green leaf from a tree he stuck it in his hat for a 
 cockade; instantly the trees were stripped of their 
 leaves, and a green sprig became the emblem of Lib- 
 erty. 
 
 After adorning themselves in this way, the rioters 
 rushed through the streets yelling and shrieking as if 
 they had been an enemy's soldiers sacking the city. 
 They broke into every place where they thought there 
 might be weapons concealed, seized all they could 
 find, and forced the city authorities to order pikes to 
 be made for them, that being the weapon most easily 
 prepared. Fifty thousand pikes were made in two 
 days. The soldiers of the regular army refused to fire 
 upon the mob. Militia companies were organized 
 under the name of the National Guard, and Paris was 
 like a vast camp. The famous tri-color cockade of red, 
 white and blue was adopted. Red and blue were the 
 city colors, and white that of the Duke of Orleans, a 
 worthless demagogue, Vvdio, being nearest of kin to the 
 royal family, hoped to be made king if Louis should 
 be dethroned. He was great-grandson of the Regent 
 
284 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 who misgoverned France during the infancy of Louis 
 the Fifteenth. 
 
 In the midst of this fierce excitement, a report was 
 spread about that the king meant to break up the 
 Assembly by force, and that the cannon of the Bastille 
 would be pointed against the city if there should be 
 any resistance. A terrible cry rang through the streets, 
 "To the Bastille! To the Bastille!" and soon the 
 surging, roaring crowd, was on its way there. 
 
 This old fortress had been built for the protection 
 of the city from foreign enemies, and ever since the 
 time of Richelieu had been used as a prison for offend- 
 ers against the government. All the associations 
 of the cruel " lettres de cachet" clustered about it; 
 the very word brought to mind the odious tyranny 
 which had buried alive, as it were, so many good and 
 true souls. It represented to the unthinking mob 
 every abuse that their country had been groaning 
 under since the happy days of Henry the Fourth; no 
 wonder that their first longing, on finding themselves 
 in power, was to destroy it. 
 
 No words can paint the fearful scene that followed. 
 The Bastille was bravely defended by its governor, 
 the Marquis de Launay, and his little guard of soldiers, 
 but after a siege of several hours the insurgents forced 
 their way in, murdered the brave governor and three 
 of his officers, and did not pause in its wild fury until 
 the ancient stronghold was a heap of smoking ruins. 
 Only seven prisoners were found there, some of whom 
 were serving out sentences for forgery, of which they 
 had been convicted by the courts, and the rest, relics 
 of a former generation, having lost their memory or 
 
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 
 
 reason, were detained only because the officers did not 
 know what else to do with thein. The key of the 
 Bastille was sent by La Fayette to Washington, and 
 was kept by him as a sacred relic at Mount. Yernon, 
 where it remains and is exhibited to this day. 
 
 While the seven prisoners were carried through the 
 streets on men's shoulders in triumph, the work of 
 destruction was o-oinsr on behind them. As the old 
 stones were hurled from their places, records were 
 brought to light which inflamed the passions of the 
 assailants more and more. In one cell was found a 
 letter, dated thirty-seven years before. Here is a part 
 of it. " If for my consolation Monseigneur would 
 grant me, for the sake of God and the most blessed 
 Trinity, that I could have news of my dear wife, were 
 it only her name on a card, to show that she is alive ! 
 I shall forever bless the greatness of Monseigneur." 
 Who knows how many years of heart-breaking had 
 gone before the writing of this letter which was never 
 sent? Or how many years more were endured by the 
 poor wretch before his turn came to be carried out of 
 his cell and laid in an unknown grave? 
 
 But we must not linger over such memorials. We 
 must go back to the lawless rabble that all day and all 
 nisrht rushed howlins* from one end of Paris to the other. 
 The heads of the officers who fell at their posts were cut 
 off and carried on pikes through the streets, amidst the 
 curses of the populace. . A 3'oung girl, supposed to be 
 the daughter of De Launay, narrowly escaped being 
 burned alive in the Bastille yard, and was only rescued 
 by a soldier of the National Guard, who carried her 
 off to a place of safety. Still the great stones of the 
 
286 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 fortress are wrenched from their places, and hurled 
 headlong into the ditch, one after another; while far 
 away in the Hotel de Ville, forty-eight thousand 
 pounds of powder are given out to the mob by the 
 tremblino- officials. 
 
 To the king and court, meanwhile, assembled at 
 Versailles, all these things came as disturbing rumors, 
 not quite enough to excite any great alarm, perhaps, 
 but disao-reeable. There has been feastino- and danc- 
 ing going on, as usual, in the beautiful orange-gar- 
 den, and the gay lords and ladies have had their 
 jokes and shrugged their shoulders at the vulgar 
 doings of the canaille., (the French name for the 
 common people). Louis has retired for the night, 
 when the Duke de Liancourt, a gentleman of his 
 household, comes to him to say that the Bastille is 
 taken by the Paris mob. " Why, that's a revolt!" 
 says the king, a puzzled look coming over his heavy, 
 good-natured face. " No, Sire," answers the clearer- 
 headed nobleman; "it is a revolution!" 
 
 The National Assembly had now been sitting for 
 more than a month. At Louis's request the nobles had 
 joined it, but with a few exceptions it was only in out- 
 ward form; tfieir hearts were as far from the Commons 
 as ever. Still the pure-minded La Fayette was there, 
 now as ever on the side of liberty, but also on that of 
 law and order; and here and there a man of rank was 
 found large-minded enough to follow his example. 
 The leading spirit of the Assembly was Count. 
 Mirabeau, who, rejected from serving with his 
 own order by the votes of his equals, threw him- 
 self fiercely into the popular party, and poured 
 
THE F BENCH REVOLUTION. 287 
 
 out a torrent of fiery eloquence against the abuses of 
 po\ver. 
 
 The day after the storming of the Bastille, a deputa- 
 tion was about to set out from the x\ssembly to have 
 one more conference with the king, (there had been 
 many such already), to protest against the presence of 
 foreign soldiers and to demand certain reforms. Just 
 before they started the members were told that the 
 king was coming to them, without even a guard. He 
 entered the Assembly room accompanied only by his 
 two brothers, and was received with shouts of applause. 
 He promised all that they wanted; he would send 
 away the soldiers; he would recall Necker; if they 
 would only have confidence in him they need fear 
 nothinor. 
 
 The applause grew wilder than ever; when the king 
 went home the Assembly accompanied him in a 
 body, as his escort; he could scarcely make his way 
 through the crowd that pressed about him, eager to 
 show their love and confidence. Happy Louis! On 
 the palace balcony stood the beautiful Marie Antoinette 
 with her two children at her side. The eldest, a 
 graceful young girl, was playing with her little broth- 
 er's lonoj' curls, and her eves filled with tears as she 
 saw her father approaching, as it were, in the arms of 
 his loving subjects. It was a beautiful scene of afi'ec- 
 tion and trust, but it was the last. 
 
 Alas! the old distrust soon broke out again. The 
 Count d'Artois, (Louis's youngest brother), and sev- 
 eral of the highest nobility, with their families, took 
 the imprudent step of leaving France secretly, some 
 of them in disguise, thus showing that they were in 
 
288 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 fear for their lives, and making the feelings of the 
 people more bitter against them than ever. 
 
 Louis at least was not afraid. He went to Paris, in 
 spite of the tears and entreaties of the queen, that he 
 might show himself to his people. At the city gates 
 he was met by Bailly, who had just been made Mayor, 
 and who handed him the keys, saying: "These are 
 the same that were, given up to King Henry the 
 Fourth, of glorious memory. Then, it was a king who 
 had conquered the people; now, it is a people who are 
 conquering their king! " 
 
 At first the populace received the king in grim 
 silence; but after a few kindly words at the Hotel de 
 Ville, (City Hall), their hearts melted and they broke 
 into loud hurrahs. But the calm was only for a mo- 
 ment. To gratify them he put on the tricolored cock- 
 ade, and gave his consent to La Fayette's being ap- 
 pointed commander of the National Guard, (though it 
 made no difference whether he consented or not); then, 
 all being serene, he went back to his quiet palace at 
 Versailles. 
 
 The raging crowd, however, must have a victim. It 
 did not take lono; to find one. Amono- the ministers 
 who had succeeded Necker was Foulon, well-known as 
 an oppressor of the poor. When they complained of 
 starvation and asked for help, he said, " Let them eat 
 grass; there's plenty of that ! " And now they remem- 
 bered it. Li spite of his white hair and his sevent}^- 
 four years, he was dragged out from his hiding-place, 
 and with a bunch of hay tied to his back, and a collar 
 of thistles round his throat, he was hanged to a lamp- 
 post. Then his head was cut off and carried about on 
 
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 289 
 
 a j^ike, the mouth stuifed full of grass. " Let him eat 
 it himself!'' shrieked the crowJ. His son-in-law, 
 Borthier, saw the gory head without suspecting whose 
 it was. His own turn was coming. As he was forced 
 through the streets, huge placards were carried with 
 him with such inscriptions as this: " He robbed the 
 king and France!" "He devoured the substance of 
 the people!" "He was the slave of the rich and the 
 tyrant of the poor!" "He drank the blood of the 
 widow and orphan!" Terrible accusations! Like 
 Foulon, he paid the penalty of his crimes by a wretched 
 death, and another head at the end of a pike made its 
 rounds amid the hootings of the populace. From this 
 time the terrible cry "a id lanternel '''' — "To the 
 lamp-post with him! " — became one of the too-familiar 
 sounds of Paris. 
 
 While such things are going on in Paris, dreadful 
 news comes from the provinces. The people have 
 risen; castles and convents are burning; delicate 
 ladies and their daughters are driven from their homes 
 with outrage; nobles are hacked in pieces before the 
 eyes of their wives and children; tax-gatherers are 
 roasted over a slow fire! Title deeds, dating back hun- 
 dreds of years, are destroyed like waste paper; and — 
 can such things be? — the peasants have even dared to 
 kill the game! The sacred deer and pheasants, to 
 prc.'serve which their poor little farms have become 
 almost a wilderness — these they are destroying for 
 food, with no fear of God or man before their eyes! 
 Clearly, it is time to do something. 
 
 The nobles in the National Assembly, who have up to 
 this time stood apart from the Commons in disdainful 
 19 
 
290 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 silence, declinino- to vote. thoii<xh forced to sit in the 
 same room, now press forward eagerly to give up their 
 privileges, according to a plan drawn up by the victo- 
 rious Necker, now for the third time at the head of the 
 king's council. They cannot do enough. Now they 
 have begun, they are afraid to stop. All taxation is 
 to be in proportion to the wealth of the citizen; no or- 
 der shall be free from it; no more serfs, no corvde, no 
 more game-preserves. Equal rights everywhere. The 
 clergy were as forward as the nobles in giving' up their 
 time-honored privileges. In a short time it was voted 
 that the whole system of tithes should be abolished , 
 and that the clergy should depend only on some in- 
 definite promises of the new government to provide 
 for them. The laws were' passed, the king gave his 
 consent to them, and once more it seemed as if pru- 
 dence and good sense might yet save the ship of state 
 from the whirlpool on the brink of which it was sail- 
 ing- 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE EEVOLUTION, CONTINUED. 1789-1790. 
 
 DDITIONAL reo'iments of soldiers were now 
 ordered to .Versailles to protect the king. 
 The officers alreadv stationed there 2:ave their 
 
 newly-arrived brethren a banquet in the palace- 
 theatre, which was graciously lent them by the king 
 for the purpose. Very naturally, their gratitude led 
 
 X 
 
 J 
 
THE REVOLUTION— CONTINUED. 291 
 
 them into the most enthusiastic praise of so amial)lc a 
 sovereign; they drank his health amidst deafening ap- 
 plause; fair hands distributed the white cockade of 
 the Bourbons, and to crown all, the queen herself did 
 the guests the honor to come into the room, holding 
 the little Dauphin by the hand. Then some strange 
 madness seized the revellers. The tricolor was torn 
 off and trampled under foot; "The Nation," that new- 
 born power which was already so terrible, though they 
 knew it not, was treated with contempt. In their mis- 
 taken loyalty, they had only added another to the 
 many daggers aimed at* the heart of their unhappy 
 king. 
 
 When the news of this banquet reached the starv- 
 ing wretches in Paris, the old fury, which had been 
 lulled a little by the king's pacific visit, broke out 
 again. "What!" they said, "shall we eat our black 
 broad mingled with clay, and too little of it at that, 
 while kings and queens and idle soldiers riot in abund- 
 ance? The cost of one such dinner would have "iven 
 half Paris a meal. Down with Aristocrats! " 
 
 The long lines of pale, hungry people waiting at 
 the doors of bakers' shops for their turn to buy a little 
 bad bread at famine price — standing en queue^ as the 
 French call it, that is, one behind another — ^^these 
 caught up the cry, and shouted it to Heaven. And 
 when the hollow-eyed mothers, gaunt with want and 
 misery, shared the poor morsel among their hungry 
 children, and saw their longing eyes beg for more — 
 what wonder that they too should take up the cry, 
 " Down with Tyranny! Death to Aristocrats! Hur- 
 rah for Liberty! '* . 
 
292 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Now beoran a hideous scene. These same women 
 and others like them, forgettuigin theh' fury that they 
 were women, rushed through the streets like an ava- 
 lanche, increasing in numbers as they advanced, shriek- 
 aig, cursing, beathig drums, hustling away all who 
 tried to stop them — thus did this frantic female mob 
 force its way through the streets to the Hotel de Ville. 
 They seized any weapon that came to hand, pokers, 
 fire-irons, axes, clubs, rusty old muskets and pistols; 
 and thus armed, howling like demons, demanded that 
 the Commune should ffive them bread. 
 
 The Commune, thus addressed, was a city govern- 
 ment established by the National party after the 
 opening of the Assembly at Versailles. Not being able 
 to find the ma3''or or other officers the furies set fire to 
 the building a fine old edifice, dating back to the time 
 of Henry the Fourth. Fortunately, the fire was put 
 out, but nothing would now satisfy the enraged mul- 
 titude except marching to Versailles. Louis received 
 them kindly, as he did everybody, and for the moment 
 they were softened, and cried out: "Long live the 
 King! " But quarrels had broken out between them 
 and the soldiers in the palace, and two of the king's 
 body-guard (who were all selected from the nobility) 
 were killed. The mob was constantly increased by 
 fresh arrivals from Paris, and rusty old cannon were 
 dragged along by cart-horses, seized with or without 
 leave wherever they could be found. 
 
 At midnight La Fayette arrived with a part of the 
 National Guard. The magic of his presence calmed 
 down the excitement, and Versailles sank into some- 
 thing like repose. He promised the king that his 
 
THE REVOLUTION— CONTINUED. 293 
 
 troops should keep order, and the royal family, worn 
 out by the terrors of the day, retired to rest. Towards 
 morning a band of ruffians broke into the palace by a 
 gate left unguarded, and with horrible threats and 
 cries rushed through the marble corridors that led to 
 the queen's apartment. The sentries are trodden 
 down, run through with a score of pikes; the body- 
 guard fly through the halls, shouting, "Save the 
 queen ! " The mging mob penetrate at last to the 
 queen's apartments. They do not find her there; she 
 has taken refuo^e in those of the kino;- In their wild 
 spite they run her bed through and through with their 
 bayonets. 
 
 La Fayette called in his soldiers and the palace was 
 cleared of the mob. One can not but smile with a 
 sort of sad amusement at reading that as he was flying 
 through the halls towards the private rooms of the 
 king with the hope of saving him, a Master of Cere- 
 monies called out to him, " Monsieur, the king permits 
 you to enter his presence !" Even at a moment like 
 that, the courtier could not forget his etiquette. 
 
 Outside the palace, the sea of human beings surges 
 backwards and forwards like a roarins; flame. All the 
 scum of Paris has come to Versailles. Robbery goes 
 hand in hand with riot. No one* can sleep in the 
 midst of the frightful din; those who have anything 
 to lose must watch it; those who have not must seize 
 what they can. The king^s own body-guard has 
 mounted the tricolor; they show themselves on the 
 balconies, waving their hats, with immense cockades 
 stuck in them, which the women in the palace have 
 been busy for the last hour in making. 
 
294 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 As the daylig-lit advances there are loud shouts for 
 "the queen! the queen!" She steps out upon the 
 balcony, holding in one hand the princess, in the 
 other Louis the Dauphin. " No children ! We want 
 no children !" shriek the crowd. The mother gently 
 pushes her children back into the room and stands 
 alone in full view of the stormy multitude, her hands 
 crossed on her breast. " I am ready to die," she says. 
 True daughter of Maria Theresa! 
 
 A man levels his musket at heri it is struck down 
 by a companion. Once more La Fayette comes to the 
 rescue. He kneels and kisses the queen's wdiite hand. 
 Then the rabble shout " Long live the queen !" so 
 easily can their fickle minds be changed. But now a 
 new cry arises and is caught up from mouth to mouth: 
 "The king to Paris!" They want to have him where 
 they can get at him ; he must be in their power. There 
 are rumors of an intention to escape. He must not 
 get away. 
 
 The king has no choice; he must go. La Fayette 
 tells the people it shall be so. Such a shout rends the 
 air as can almost be heard at Paris, twelve miles away. 
 The morning passes in anxious preparations. The 
 queen looks sadly on the splendors she is leaving; 
 well for her that she does know she is never to see them 
 again. At two o'clock in the day the mournful pro- 
 cession sets out. In the great state-carriage are the 
 king, his sister Elizabeth, his wife and the two children. 
 
 Outside — it is hard to give you a picture of the out- 
 side. A hundred deputies followed the king in car- 
 riages, and so far the procession had some dignity; but 
 in front, at the sides, behind, pressed a ferocious mass 
 
THE RE VOL UTION— CONTINUED. 295 
 
 of Immanity, giving' vent to their brutal passions in 
 hovvlino;, dancino* and shoutino- out sonofs whose evil 
 words were meant to be applied to the royal family. 
 Fishwomen, (the lowest and most degraded class in 
 Paris), sat astride on cannons; carts loaded with flour 
 were escorted by ]:)oth men and women carrying green 
 boLio'hs, amidst which the 2;litterinor ends of lances 
 shone out; loaves of bread were paraded on the ends 
 of bayonets. The soldiers of his Majesty's body- 
 guard straggled along after his carriage, all disarmed, 
 mauv without their hats, all faint with fati":ue. Some 
 one had taken the bloody heads of the guardsmen 
 killed the day before to a barber in Sevres, and forced 
 him to curl and powder the hair, that they might be 
 known for aristocrats. These were borne aloft on 
 lances until La Fayette saw them and compelled the 
 savages who were carrying them to give up their 
 horrible trophies. 
 
 The fishwomen (poissardes) shouted to those they 
 met, " Oouraffe, friends! We shall have bread enouofh 
 now, for here we have the baker and his wife, and 
 their little boy! " This was an allusion to the days of 
 a previous famine, when the king was called a baker 
 because it was said he could provide bread for the 
 people if he would. There was a drizzling rain, while 
 for eight miserable hours the dreary procession slowly 
 wound its way through the throng. At last, wear3'-and 
 sick at heart, they reached the palace of the Tuileries. 
 This journey was called, with a sort of unintentional 
 mockery, " The Joyous Entry." 
 
 At the Tuileries they spent a very quiet year. 
 Louis's greatest trial was that he could not hunt; he 
 
296 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 does not seem to have concerned himself much about 
 the doings of the Assembly, and they on their part 
 paid small attention to him. 
 
 The six-years-old Dauphin was perhaps the happiest 
 of the family. He had a little garden of his own, 
 fenced in by itself, in which the people could see him 
 from the street digging away with all his might, and 
 watching for his radishes and lettuces to come peep- 
 ing up from the ground with as much pleasure as if he 
 had not been a prince. His sister, Maria Theresa 
 (who was called Madame Itoyale^ though she was but 
 a little girl), was not so light-hearted. She was old 
 enough to sympathize with her mother's troubles; and 
 though always gentle and lovely, she grew up under a 
 shadow of sadness that was never cleared away. The 
 king's sister, the excellent Madame Elizabeth, was also 
 with them; his brothers and their families had taken 
 refuo;e in other countries. 
 
 The nobility now emigrated in great numbers, no 
 one caring at this time to prevent their quitting the 
 kingdom provided they left their houses and lands 
 behind them. In the meantime all titles were abol- 
 ished; the proudest duke, if he remained in France, 
 must be content to be called simply " citizen;" the 
 rio-ht of the eldest son to inherit the landed estate was 
 taken away, and parents were compelled to divide their 
 property equally among all their children. In addi- 
 tion to these remarkable changes, almost every man 
 in the country was allowed to vote. 
 
 Necker, who w^as once more minister of finance, 
 had o;reat trouble to " make both ends meet," for 
 previous waste had made the country very poor, 
 
THE REVOLUTION— CONTINUED. 297 
 
 though it was now governed economically enough. 
 In this difficulty the celebrated Talleyrand, himself a 
 bishop, proposed that all the property of the clergy 
 should be confiscated. Their tithes, that is, the taxes 
 collected especially for them, had already been taken 
 awa}'', but they had an enormous amount of real estate 
 or houses and land, besides other possessions. The 
 Church is said to have owned in France a terri- 
 tory larger than all England. These lands the 
 government took for its own use, and as nobody 
 wanted to buy all this oroperty, a kind of paper-money 
 called assignats was made, which was to represent it 
 and be redeemed gradually by the sale of the property. 
 
 The state paid its debts with this currency, and for 
 a little while it answered as well as real money; but 
 during the troubled times that followed, the property 
 could be sold only for a very small part of its origi- 
 inal value, while the government went on issuing 
 assignats for far more than that original value. The 
 less they were good for, the more of them were made 
 by these singular financiers; and the result was of 
 course that they became in the end utterly worthless. 
 The same thing happened to the "Continental Cur- 
 rency" after our own Revolution. 
 
 With a view of joining all parties in a state of gen- 
 eral good feeling, a theatrical display was got up 
 by the authorities iu the year 1790, to celebrate the 
 first anniversary of the storming of the Bastille. It 
 was called the " Fete of the Federation," and was held 
 in the great open square called the "Champ de Mars," 
 (Field of Mars), which is still used in Paris for military 
 parades. The earth was dug out from one part and 
 
298 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 piled up in others so as to form vast amphitheatres, 
 which were terraced into seats capable of holding sever- 
 al hundred thousand people. 
 
 Every body helped in this work. Abbes, dukes, 
 members of Assembly, stood shoulder to shoulder with 
 shop-keepers and mechanics; even ladies took part, 
 inspired by the general enthusiasm. In the midst of 
 the field an altar was set up; mass was said by the 
 Bishop of Autun, (Talleyrand), and afterward the 
 oath to support the new constitution was taken by La 
 Fayette and the great mass of " federates." Then the 
 king repeated the oath aloud; banners were waved, 
 sabres flashed in the air, and the whole vast crowd 
 cried — " I swear it! " The queen, who was placed on 
 a balcony near by, held up the Dauphin in her arms, 
 as if he joined his father in the solemn promise. At 
 this sight, shouts of the wildest joy broke from the as- 
 semblage. There was a delirium of gladness. If 
 throats were not split, it was because throats are very 
 strong. The golden age seemed to have come at last. 
 
 The festival lasted for several days, and was held in 
 various places. Over the gate of the old place of the 
 Bastille was a sign, " Dancing here." The great 
 square was lighted with colored lamps, and in the 
 midst was a pole sixty feet high, with a huge liberty- 
 cap on the top. At one side was a dark pile of ruins 
 lighted by a single lamp. If you went near enough 
 yoM could see a confused mass of broken stones, and 
 the corner of an iron cage; not much, but enough to 
 show the change that one short year had brought about. 
 The Bastille and Liberty ! Who could have guessed 
 that these names would ever be associated together ? 
 
FLIGHT AND DEATH OF THE KING. 299 
 
 After all this joyousness, what remained ? All the 
 old doubt and hatred, as strong as ever. A French 
 historian calls it " a fete that had no morrow." Riots 
 continued to take place in the provinces; Necker, 
 hitherto the people's idol, found himself growing- 
 unpopular, and gave up his place for the last time. 
 The great republican, Mirabeau, who was trusted by 
 both king and nation, and whose influence might have 
 prevented tlie horrors which came afterward, died a 
 few months after the fete, and there was no one left to 
 advise the king wisely, or moderate the madness of the 
 people. 
 
 CHAPTER XX XL 
 
 FROM THE FLIGHT OF THE KING TO HIS DEATH.- 
 
 1791-1793. 
 
 CTING on the bad advice of his friends, 
 Louis now took a step which forever killed 
 the chance of reconciliation between himself 
 and the nation, if indeed there ever had been any 
 chance — he attempted to fly from the kingdom. 
 
 At first sight it seems as if this was just the thing 
 that would have suited everybody, as it would have 
 left those who disliked his government to form such a 
 one as pleased them. But leaving his country meant 
 also collecting an army abroad, which, together with 
 the thousands of emigrants already beyond the bor- 
 ders, would invade France to establish his power again 
 by force of arms. 
 
300 mSTOMY OF FRANCE. 
 
 * 
 He bad already been negotiating secretly with various 
 foreign princes, who were to furnish hira with men and 
 money, and by the efforts of faithful friends all arrange- 
 ments were made for the flight of the royal party. But 
 none of these people had any practical knowledge of 
 life, and the whole expedition was nothing but a series 
 of blunders. As much time was spent in preparing for 
 the journey as if a pleasure party had been in view, 
 and meanwhile the precious hours were slipping away. 
 When at last all was ready, and the queen set out to 
 meet her husband, who had preceded her, neither she 
 nor the soldier who was to be her guide knew the way 
 about Paris, and they wandered through the streets for 
 an hour trying to find the carriage in which the king, 
 nearly distracted, was waiting for them. And what a 
 carriage! Instead of a commonplace vehicle which 
 might have passed without notice, they had a large 
 lumbering new coach, painted in bright colors, which 
 could not fail to attract the attention of all passers-by. 
 Count Fersen, a young Swedish officer, acted as coach- 
 man. Inside (when they all got together at last) were 
 the governess, who was called the Baroness de Korff, 
 and was to pass for a mother traveling with her chil- 
 dren; the king dressed as a valet, the queen as a 
 lady's maid, the Dauphin, the Princess Royal, and 
 the king's sister, Madame Elizabeth, who was to repre- 
 sent the Baroness's traveling companion. 
 
 The great, shining coach, with couriers in yellow 
 livery riding in front of it, and a smaller carriage be- 
 hind to carry extras, had to stop several times for 
 repairs, and actually traveled sixty-nine miles in 
 twenty-two hours, when the inmates were flying for 
 
. FLIGHT AND DEATH OF THE KING. 301 
 
 their lives! During all this time it was a mark for 
 every eye, and spies were sent to follow it. In spite 
 of all their imprudence the party arrived safely at the 
 village of St. Men^hould, where the king repeated the 
 folly he had often committed during the journey, and 
 put his head out of the coach window to see what was 
 detaining them. He was recognized by a young man 
 named Drouet, a violent republican, who instantly 
 jumped upon his horse and rode as fast as possible 
 across the country to Yarennes, which was the next 
 station, warning the authorities there to be on the 
 look-out for the king. 
 
 To his deep mortification, Louis was stopped here 
 and forced to turn back, and a wretched journey 
 which lasted durino^ the whole weekbrouirht them airain 
 to Paris. Two deputies from the National Assembly 
 rode back in the carriage with them, and they were 
 constantly subjected to affronts which made their 
 situation all the more painful. The king was now 
 more strictly guarded than ever. Soldiers were sta- 
 tioned at the doors of the royal apartments, and it 
 was with diffioulty that the queen obtained leave to 
 have the doors shut while dressing and undressing. 
 
 The Assembly, after a stormy debate, passed a 
 decree excusino- the kins: for his fliorht, but warninjx 
 him that if he should repeat the attempt he would be 
 dealt with as an enemy. It then declared its exist- 
 ence at an end, and a new election was held through- 
 out France, at which none of the old members were 
 allowed to be candidates. A new body of men, who 
 called themselves the Legislative Assembly, were 
 elected, and were in every way inferior to the old, 
 
302 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 many of them being ignorant, coarse persons, of very 
 little ability. They were soon divided into parties 
 which struggled furiously for the mastery, one being for 
 a constitutional monarchy, another for a republic, and 
 still another desiring nothing so much as a gen- 
 eral sweeping away of everything that had gone before 
 them, and a reign of disorder and confusion. 
 
 The friends of monarchy outside of France were 
 not idle. Armies were raised in Germany for the 
 support of the king, to which the Assembly responded 
 by declaring war against the Empire. Some fighting 
 was done which was not favorable to France, and 
 thinking that treachery on the part of the king and his 
 friends must have brouo-ht about this result, a violent 
 tumult took j)lace at Paris. ' A great rabble assembled, 
 armed with clubs, scythes, axes, and the unfailing 
 pike, and carrying hideous emblems and mottoes, and 
 rushed through the Hall of Assembly with a mad 
 uproar. A calf's heart on the end of a pike was 
 labelled " Heart of an aristocrat ! " A pair of ragged 
 breeches, borne aloft in the same way, bore the inscrijj- 
 , tion: " The Sans-Culottes* are coming ! " " Death to 
 Tyrants ! " " Liberty or Death ! " and other threaten- 
 ing expressions blazed on their hastily-made banners. 
 The mob next went to the Tuileries palace and forced 
 its way up the grand staircase into the presence of the 
 king, hurling out insults and threats as it passed 
 along. One of the rioters, handed the red cap (the 
 
 * " Sans-Culottes " was the name given to the most squalid 
 and degraded class of the Parisians. It means literally " with- 
 out breeches." 
 
FLIGHT AND DEATH OF THE KING. 303 
 
 emblem of revolution, or, as they called it, of liberty), 
 on the point of a pike, to the king. He put it on at 
 once, and the queen appeared with an enormous tri- 
 colored cockade in her hair. The crowd swarmed on 
 through the noble halls of the old palace, scream- 
 ing out their howls for liberty and curses on tyrants. 
 After some hours of this horrible rioting the mayor 
 made his tardy appearance, and with honied words 
 persuaded the mob to disperse. 
 
 The noble courage which the royal family had dis- 
 played during this trying scene was turning the tide 
 of popular feeling in their favor, when, unfortunately, 
 just at this time the Duke of Brunswick, who was in 
 command of the armies allied against France, issued 
 an insolent and irritating proclamation in which he 
 commanded the French nation instantly to return to 
 their allegiance, threatening to sack the city of Paris 
 if the smallest injury were done to the king or his 
 family. This ill-judged action was like a spark ap- 
 plied to gunpowder; the violent party, who were 
 called Jacobins, were beside themselves with rage, and 
 demanded from the Assembly the instant trial and 
 deposition of the king. 
 
 The more moderate members having voted down 
 this proposition, the Jacobins, led by the fierce Dan- 
 ton, determined to carry out their wishes by force. 
 On the tenth of August, 1792, a desperate mob 
 thronged the streets leading to the palace of the 
 Tuileries. This they surrounded, bringing cannon to 
 bear upon it from all directions, and a large propor- 
 tion of the National Guard placed there for the dcr- 
 fence of the palace having joined the roiters, Louis 
 
304 
 
 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 thoughtit necessary to give up any attempt at resistance. 
 His faithful Swiss Guards were with him, ready to lay 
 down their lives in defending hira, and several hun- 
 dred gentlemen who had formed part of his court in 
 happier days crowded about him, eager to be of 
 service, but their good wishes could avail little in the 
 face of the infuriated mob. In the midst of the ex- 
 citement, a message was brought from the Assembl}^ 
 offering to take the royal family under its protection. 
 " I would rather be nailed to the palace walls than 
 leave them! " exclaimed the indignant queen; but her 
 husband dreaded the sacrifice of life that must follow 
 if they stayed, and decided to accept the invitation. 
 With great difficulty he and his family forced their 
 way through the crowd, attended by his friends, and 
 leaving the Swiss Guard on duty at the palace. The 
 king entered the Hall of Assembly with great dignity. 
 "Gentlemen," said he, " I have come to prevent the 
 commission of a great crime." The royal party were 
 placed in the reporter's box behind the president's 
 chair, a closet six feet square and eight feet high, into 
 which the burning rays of an August sun poured their 
 splendor. For fourteen hours they were packed in 
 this miserable place, listening to the wild har- 
 angues of the Jacobin orators, and the furious out- 
 cries which resounded through the streets. They 
 were scarcely seated when the sound of cannon from 
 the Tuilcries showed that the fight had begun. Louis, 
 always anxious to stop the shedding of blood, sent 
 word to the Swiss Guards to cease firing; by some 
 mistake the order was not given to the whole regiment, 
 and while a part of them marched out, some three 
 
FLIGHT AND DEATH OF THE KING. 305 
 
 hundred remained at their posts in the palace and 
 were cut to pieces by the mob. Not one escaped. The 
 Tuileries was sacked and plundered by the frenzied 
 rabble, who murdered every human being found within 
 its limits. The gentlemen-ushers, the valets, the 
 pages, the door-keepers, the very cooks and scullions, 
 were hacked to pieces and their bodies stripped and 
 mutilated. Streams of blood ran through the palace; 
 women mingled with men in the indiscriminate massa- 
 cre, and cut strips of flesh from the dead bodies, 
 which they held up with yells of triumph; one could 
 not go from room to room except by treading on the 
 slain. Every corner of the palace was ransacked, 
 bureaux and desks were broken open, the contents of 
 the cellars turned out, furniture and works of art hurled 
 from the windows or chopped to pieces inside; and 
 finally the mad, drunken wretches began to fall upon 
 one another, not knowing what they did, and their 
 corpses were mingled with those of the defenders of 
 the palace, in one vast heap of dead. 
 
 After two or three days of suspense the king and 
 his family were sent to a gloomy fortress called the 
 Temple, which had been taken from the old Knights 
 Templars by Philip the Fair. Here it would seem 
 as if the malice of their enemies might at least have 
 allowed them the ordinary comforts of life, as they 
 were strongly guarded and could do no harm, but 
 they were treated with the utmost severity. The sol- 
 diers who guarded them took pleasure in insulting 
 them, and they could not stir out of their rooms with- 
 out being exposed to brutal affronts. They accepted 
 their situation with great dignity and courage, and the 
 20 
 
306 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 queen, as long as she was allowed to do so, went on 
 rognlavly with her children's education. 
 
 Meanwhile the government was busily emj)loyed in 
 driving out of France the allied armies who presumed 
 to invade her soil. The latter at first had some suc- 
 cesses, which terrified the revolutionists, and they re- 
 solved upon a horrible plan by which to get rid of 
 those at home who were unfavorable to them. All 
 ])ersons suspected of being royalists were arrested 
 and placed in confinement, until every prison in Paris 
 was crowded with them; then ruffians were hired by 
 the Commune to murder them all. In order that as 
 many citizens as possible might enjoy the spectacle, 
 seats were placed in the prison yards, some labelled 
 " for gentlemen," others " for ladies." Then the work 
 of death beo-an. A mock-court was held within the 
 walls; each prisoner was called up in turn and sen- 
 tenced after a short examination, witli^or without 
 proof; then they were thrust through a small gate 
 into the courtyard, where they were instantly hacked 
 to pieces by the assassins. 
 
 For four da3^s this hideous work went on, until the 
 prisons were emptied and there were no more victims 
 to be put to death. The beautiful Princess de Lamballe, 
 the most intimate friend of Marie Antoinette, was 
 murdered with savage cruelty, and her bleeding head 
 liold up on a pike before the queen's window in the 
 Temple. Such horrible crimes were committed as the 
 j)en refuses to record; it was a carnival of blood and 
 outrage. Among the first victims were a great com- 
 pany of priests, who were peculiarly the objects of 
 public hatred. The venerable archbishop of Aries 
 
FLIGHT AND DEATH OF THE KING. 307 
 
 was killed on the steps of the altar. The stories of 
 what occurred during those days of horror fill vol- 
 umes, and yet but a small part has been written down. 
 One young lady, when her father was sentenced to 
 death, threw herself passionately between him and the 
 assassins, bogging for his life. One of them filled a 
 cup with freshly flowing blood, exclaiming: " This is 
 the blood of an aristocrat. Drink it, and we will let 
 him go." Without a moment's hesitation she drained 
 the cup, and the applauding crowd permitted her and 
 her father to pass out in safety. The butchers were 
 sustained at their work by frequent draughts of wine, 
 and at its close received the thanks of their employers. 
 
 The operations of the army were extremely credit- 
 able. The republican general, Dumouriez, gained the 
 victories of Valmy and Jemappes, and raised the 
 spirits of the Assembly so mucli that they published a 
 vaino'lorious letter ofFerino: their assistance to all na- 
 tions wlio mijrht wish to free themselves from the 
 tyranny of their rulers; and growing bolder as they 
 went on, they soon proclaimed that wherever the 
 French armies went, monarchy should be at an end, 
 old distinctions abolished and the property of nobles 
 and priests confiscated. Their insolence kept pace 
 with their success. 
 
 In one of the previous battles. La Fayette, who re- 
 mained faithful to that part of the Assembly still ac- 
 knowledging the king, was on that account deserted 
 by his troops and went over to the Austrian camp for 
 safety. Instead of receiving him hospitably, as a 
 person who had done every thing he could for the 
 royal family in whose cause they were fighting, the 
 
308 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Austrians kept him as a prisoner, and for five years he 
 was confined in a loathsome dungeon. He was not 
 released until after the peace of Campo Formio, in 1798. 
 
 The next change in the varying government of 
 France was the assembling of a National Convention, 
 of which a large proportion of the members were 
 committed beforehand to the destruction of the king. 
 On the first day of their meeting they voted that royalty 
 was abolished, and that any emigrants who should return 
 to France or be taken in battle should be put to death. 
 All titles of nobility were suppressed, and even the 
 ordinary forms of courtesy were to be done away with. 
 It was forbidden to say Monsieur or Madame, and 
 every one, high or low, must be addressed as " Citi- 
 zen." 
 
 Two opposite parties existed in the Convention, 
 one consisting of the moderate members, called Giron- 
 dists, and the other composed of the Jacobins and 
 other turbulent and bloodthirsty persons who took the 
 name of Mountaineers, from the places they occupied 
 in the Assembly-hall. These last were representatives 
 of the worst class of the community, and being led by 
 Danton, Marat and Robespierre, men of ability with- 
 out conscience, soon awed the Girondists into submis- 
 sion. The king, or, as the accusation called him, Louis 
 Capet, was brought to trial before the Convention. 
 " Sit down, Louis," said the president, Barrere, " and 
 answer the questions that shall be put to you." He 
 was accused of misgo vernment and of secret correspond- 
 ence with the enemies of France. He replied with 
 great moderation, calmness and good sense; but his 
 cause was judged beforehand, and after a violent 
 
FLIGHT AND DEATH OF THE KING. 309 
 
 discussion which lasted three days, he was declared 
 guilty and sentenced to death. 
 
 This was not done without a desperate struggle. 
 Even after the death-sentence was passed there were 
 many who voted for delay, but the tiger-element 
 carried the day, and Louis was told that in twenty-four 
 hours he' must die. Even his own blood-relation, the 
 Duke of Orleans — no Duke now, but "Philippe Egalite," 
 (Equality — that being the new name he had adopted), 
 voted for death without delay. A miserable wretch, 
 this, who hoped to rise to power over his kinsman's 
 grave; to be disappointed, we shall be glad to learn, 
 when his turn comes. 
 
 The execution took place on the 21st of January, 
 1793. Louis, who had been for some time separated 
 from his family, was now allowed to take leave of 
 them. After this melancholy farewell the king slept 
 soundly. In the morning his confessor came to him ; 
 he received the sacrament, and remained at his devo- 
 tions until he was told, " the hour is come." He was 
 taken in a carria2:e throufrh the silent streets, where 
 one universal feeling of awe pervaded all hearts. 
 Shops were shut, windows down, all business sus- 
 pended. No voice dared to utter a word of sympathy, 
 but a heavy shadow rested upon the city. When he 
 arrived at the place where the guillotine stood waiting 
 for him, the drums began to beat. "Silence!" he 
 exclaimed angrily, turning towards them. They 
 stopped, and he advanced to the edge of the scaffold, 
 and, addressing the vast crowd assembled there, said, 
 "Frenchmen, I die innocent. I pardon my enemies, 
 and I pray that France " Here the brutal official 
 
310 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 who had charge of the execution, ordered the drums to 
 beat, and the rest of the speech was not heard. When 
 the officers bes^an to bind his arras he resisted, wishins: 
 to be spared that last indignity ; his confessor, who 
 had remained with him, reminded him that in submit- 
 ting to this he was only suffering as our Saviour had 
 done, and he yielded. "Son of St. Louis, ascend to 
 heaven!" said the abb6; the axe fell; the head rolled 
 in the dust. The executioner picked it up by the hair 
 and held it up before the people, who answered by 
 shouts of " Long live the Republic!" The remains were 
 hastily buried in the spot where the beautiful church 
 of the Madeleine now stands, and a quantity of quick- 
 lime was thrown into the grave, that they might be 
 destroyed as soon as possible. 
 
 Thus perished Louis the Sixteenth, in the thirty- 
 ninth year of his age; sacrificed, not so much on 
 account of his own sins as for those of his ancestors, 
 who by long centuries of cruel tyranny had nourished 
 the terrible drao;on that; now devoured him. He had 
 wished to do what was right, but he did not know how; 
 and like an unskillful engineer wath a vast responsi- 
 bility suddenly thrown upon him, he fell a victim to 
 the power he could not control. 
 
THE BEIGN OF TERROR. 311 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE EEIGN OF TEKROR — 1703-1794. 
 
 |HERE is no retreat now," said Marat, one of 
 the most rabid of the Red Republicans; "we 
 must conquer or die." In a few weeks the 
 Republic was in arms against nearly the whole of 
 Europe, England joining the great confederacy. For- 
 midable insurrections broke out in France itself; Gene- 
 ral Duraouriez, who had before fought successfully, lost 
 the battle o£ Neerwinden, and was so disgusted with the 
 turn affairs had taken that he went over to the Austrians. 
 It was now that the wonderful energy of the Jacobins 
 prevailed against this combination of adverse forces. 
 Launching their whole strength in a wild fury against 
 the enemies nearest them, those at home, they stopped 
 at no act of violence which could make their hold on 
 power firmer. They established the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal, one of the most horril^le blood-councils 
 which ever disgraced a civilized nation, and turned its 
 fury first on the Girondists, whom they charged with 
 being enemies of the public interests. These were 
 hunted down without mercy, in Paris, in the provinces, 
 everywhere; the prisons were crowded. Hoping to 
 deliver her country from this detestable tyranny, a 
 young lady named Charlotte Corday obtained admis- 
 sion to the presence of the ferocious Marat, and stabbed 
 him to the heart. She was condemned to death, and 
 met her sentence triumphantly — glorying in having 
 rid her country of a tyrant, and not knowing how 
 
312 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 IVuitloss had been her efforts in the cause of freedom. 
 
 A terrible vengeance was taken on those parts of 
 the country which had risen in rebellion. Tribunals 
 were erected in every city in these unhappy districts, 
 and blood flowed in a ceaseless stream. When it was 
 found impossible for the most industrious guillotine 
 to dispose in a day of all the condemned, shorter 
 methods were adopted. At Lyons the prisoners by 
 hundreds at a time were taken to a long mound raised 
 between two ditches dug to receive their bodies, and 
 there fired upon with cannon. The first discharge did 
 not kill them all; it only broke jaws and sent limbs 
 flying over the field; there was a second, and a third, 
 and as many persons still lived on in their agony, the 
 bayonet and the sabre did the rest. Then the 
 bodies (some breathing ones among them), were 
 shoveled into the ditches and the earth heaped above 
 them. These executions were called ,/«^5/^/«c7e5. An- 
 other kind, called noyades^ consisted in filling the 
 hold of a vessel with as many poor wretches as it 
 would contain, towing it out into a river and then 
 scuttlino- it so that all should be drowned toixether. 
 What was termed a " republican marriage " was tying 
 a man and woman together and throwing them into 
 the water to drown. No fewer than fifteen thousand 
 persons are computed to have perished in these vari- 
 ous wayi in three months in the city of Nantes alone, 
 and the waters of the Loire became so polluted by 
 corpses that it was forbidden to drink them as being 
 injurious to health. 
 
 Among the cities which rebelled was that of Toulon, 
 in the south of France, whose inhabitants called in an 
 
THE REIGN OF TERROR. 313 
 
 English fleet and garrison to help them. Here for the 
 lirst time we are told of a young officer called Napo- 
 leon Bonaparte, whose skillful military operations com- 
 pelled the British to retreat. France and the world 
 were destined to hear much more of him before the 
 grave closed over him at St. Helena. 
 
 After the death of Marat, Robespierre became the 
 chief of the revolutionists, and from this time m.ay be 
 dated the beo^innino: of the " Reio-n of Terror." A 
 series of hastily-formed laws made by the so-called 
 " Committee of Public Safety," placed the lives and 
 possessions of the entire French nation at the mercy 
 of a band of men who for lawlessness and ferocity 
 have never been equalled in the civilized world. 
 " Enemy of the Republic " was the vague accusation 
 on which thousands upon thousands of good citizens 
 were thrown into prison, only to be subjected to the 
 mockery of a trial and then hurried to a speedy death. 
 x\mong the early victims we distinguish "the Widow 
 Capet " — such was the name given at her trial to the 
 once beautiful and haughty daughter of Maria Theresa. 
 For months her life had been as wretched as the inge- 
 nuity of vulgar souls could make it. A few months 
 after the king's death she was forcibly separated from 
 her little son, the care of whom had been a great com- 
 fort to her. From that time she seemed to lose all 
 hope and spirit, and would stand for hours together 
 lookino; throujjh a crack in the wall, for the sake of 
 sometimes seeing him pass at a distance. 
 
 Soon she was denied even this poor satisfaction, and 
 was removed from tiie Temple, where Madame Eliza- 
 beth and the Princess Royal had been with her, to the 
 
314 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 still more wretched prison of the Conciergerie, a 
 place used only for the lowest criminals. The men 
 appointed to take her there came in the middle of the 
 night and obliged her to rise and dress in their 
 presence, searching her apparel as she put it on, to see 
 that she concealed nothing. In passing through a low 
 door-way she struck her forehead violently, and one of 
 the men asked if she had hurt herself. " Nothing can 
 hurt me now," she said. 
 
 In the Conciergerie she was placed in a damp, filthy 
 cell, in which a man was stationed, night and day, to 
 watch her. She was never left alone for a moment. 
 The princesses, knowing her industrious habits, wished 
 to send her materials for worsted-work, that she might 
 have something to pass away the dreary time, but were 
 harshly refused, on the ground that there might be 
 some treasonable communication between them and 
 her. She managed, however, to ravel out some old 
 carpet which she fomtd in her cell, and with two bits 
 of wood for knitting needles, (as she was not allowed 
 steel needles for fear she should stab herself with 
 them), she contrived to knit a pair of garters. 
 
 At last the time was appointed for her trial, and for 
 two days she was subjected to a rigid examination 
 during which the most insulting questions were asked 
 her, all of which she answered with spirit and dignity. 
 The verdict was, of course, death, and so great had 
 been her suffering that she welcomed it as a relief. 
 She was carried on a cart to the place of the guillotine 
 with her hands tied, like a common criminal; her 
 beautiful hair had turned white in her long agony; her 
 face, now no longer lovely, but worn and haggard, 
 
THE REIGN OF TERROR. 315 
 
 could scarcely have been recognized by one who knew 
 it onl^^ in happier days, but her bearing was, as always, 
 proud and dignified. She mounted the scaffold with 
 a firm step; stretching out her hands, she exclaimed, 
 "Farewell, my children; I am going to your fatlier;" 
 the axe fell; the executioner heldup the bleeding head 
 amid shouts of "Vive laRepublique," and all was over. 
 To the eyes of republican France she was only one 
 of many. The guillotine never rested. Twelve pris- 
 ons in Paris, and thousands more throughout the 
 country, delivered up their captives to death as fast as 
 they could be emptied by the executions. The Gi- 
 rondist deputies of the Convention, who had been in 
 prison since the beginning of the Reign of Terror, were 
 condemned in a body, and marched together to execu- 
 tion singing the Marsellaise Hymn, which had been 
 composed not long before by Rouget de Lisle. Madame 
 Roland, one of the most distinguished of French 
 thinkers and writers, exclaimed as she was carried 
 to the guillotine, "Oh, Liberty! what crimes are 
 committed in thy name ! " Her husband, who was not 
 among the " suspected," stabbed himself on hearing 
 of her death. TJie infamous " Philippe Egalite," once 
 Duke of Orleans, who had shocked even the revolu- 
 tionists by voting for the king's death; Bailly, the 
 astronomer, first President of the National Assembly; 
 the Countess Du Barry, a shameful relic of the reign 
 of Louis the Fifteenth; Malesherbes, the upright min- 
 ister of the next Louis, and w^ho had volunteered to 
 defend him at his trial; the saint-like Madame Eliza- 
 beth,, the king's sister — all followed in quick suc- 
 cession, almost unnoticed among the throng wjjo 
 
316 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 daily formed a mournful procession to the . scaffold. 
 
 It was not in the name of the Christian religion that 
 such things were done. The Revolutionists had 
 advanced beyond that. The last person who was 
 allowed to have a priest with him was the king, 
 though once or twice afterward a clergyman was seen 
 in the company of a condemned person, causing 
 angry complaints among the spectators. The Conven- 
 tion now decided that such follies should be done 
 away with altogether. They proclaimed that the 
 religion of Jesus Christ vv^as abolished and that death 
 was an eternal sleep; churches were everywhere 
 desecrated; the tombs in the cathedral of St. Denis, 
 that resting-place of so many generations of French 
 kings, were broken open and their contents exposed 
 to the insults of the multitude. All Christian wor- 
 ship was forbidden, and a festival was held in the 
 ancient cathedral of Notre Dame in which an opera- 
 dancer was enthroned Avith revolting ceremonies, as 
 the Goddess of Reason. To wipe out as far as possible 
 all remembrance of times gone by, the calendar was 
 chancred and a new reckoninor was ordered to beo;in from 
 the 22d of September, 1792, which took the name of 
 the year I. Instead of weeks of seven days, the 
 months were divided into three periods of ten days 
 each, every " decadi " or tenth day being a holiday 
 to replace the Christian day of rest. The months 
 received different names — Windy-month, Rainy- 
 month, Snowy-month, etc., and such is the power 
 of habit that these absurd decrees remained in force 
 until the first of January, 1806. 
 
 The ferocity of the ruffians who despoiled the church 
 
THE REIGN OF TERROR. 317 
 
 of St. Denis almost exceeds belief. Even the coffin 
 of Henry the Fourth, so long the nation''s idol, was 
 not spared. His body, of "which the features were 
 perfectly preserved, was placed upright on a stone for 
 the rabble to amuse themselves with, and a woman, 
 reproaching it with having been a king, knocked it 
 down by a blow in the lace. The contents of all the 
 vaults were thrown in a heap into great pits contain- 
 ing quick lime, which were then filled up, Avhile the 
 leaden coffins were melted and cast into bullets intend- 
 ed to kill the enemies of the Republic. 
 
 The rage for condemnation now became a sort of 
 insanity. Fouquier-Tinville, a man whose greatest 
 delight was in the shedding of blood, was made public 
 prosecutor. A word, a tear, often a look, was enough 
 to render a person " suspected," and once within the 
 prison walls there was little hope. " Plots in the 
 prison" was now the watchword of the accusers, and it 
 was a formula from which few escaped. The number 
 of prisoners condemned in a day was called a "batch," 
 as if they had been so many loaves of bread prepared 
 for the oven. 
 
 The prisons themselves were disgusting places, dirty, 
 damp and unwholesome, but the prisoners congregated 
 in them had one comfort; they were allowed to be to- 
 gether. They were often left for weeks in these 
 places before they were tried, and ladies and gentlemen 
 who had met each other before in gay society had even 
 the heart to play games in which a mock trial and a 
 death by guillotine frequently figured ! 
 
 Every day when the "batches" were called for, each 
 prisoner listened eagerly for his own name, and not 
 
318 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 hearing it returned again to the play which the sum- 
 mons had interrupted. Poor souls ! let us not grudge 
 them these efforts at self-consolation. Others there 
 were of nobler natures who spent their time in strength- 
 ening the weak, encouraging the timid, consoling the 
 bereaved; and w^ho, when their turn came to go, set such 
 an example of noble resignation as lifted up the hearts 
 of those left behind to their own level of unselfish 
 patience. 
 
 Outside of the prisons, the habit of witnessing execu- 
 tions had an unspeakably brutalizing effect on the 
 common people. The daily murder became a festival, 
 where seats were prepared as in a theatre. Women 
 took their knitting and went several hours beforehand 
 to secure the best places, exchanging jokes and con- 
 gratulations while the hideous spectacle was going on. 
 The higher classes, as a rule, met death with firmness 
 and dignity, and in silence. Those not yet " suspect- 
 ed" lived in continual terror, none knowing when the 
 axe would be lifted over their heads. The sight of a 
 strano;e face in their houses, the sound of a bell or of 
 an unknown voice filled them with alarm. Many 
 committed suicide in their wretchedness, unable to 
 endure the suspense. 
 
 All parties in the convention were not yet, however, 
 subdued to Robespierre's will, and he caused Danton, 
 Camille Desmoulins and others who still preserved 
 their independence, to be guillotined. The pride of 
 Robespierre was now at its height. Resistance to his 
 will had ceased, but the work of death went on more 
 ferociously than ever. It seemed as if he felt his only 
 chance of safety to be in the ceaseless shedding of 
 
THE REIGN OF TERROR. 319 
 
 blood. With much pompous formalitj he re-estab- 
 lished the worship of a Supreme Being about a year 
 after the enthronement of the Goddess of Reason, 
 and a festival was held on the occasion, in which 
 Robespierre himself was plainly intended to be the 
 one honored. But he had at last overstepped the 
 bounds of patience, and his ruin was resolved upon. 
 
 All arranirements were made in the deepest secrecy, 
 and the tyrant was thunderstruck when he found him- 
 self suddenly denounced before the Convention as one 
 whose death was necessary to the safety of the Repub- 
 lic. In vain he tried to make himself heard; too many 
 of the members were in dread of his over^-rown 
 jjower, and he was quickly condemned, with all his 
 trusted associates. He tried to shoot himself in prison, 
 but only inflicted a hideous wound on his face, shatter- 
 ing the jaw. As he was carried to execution, lying 
 on a cart and almost dead already with cringing terror, 
 the people shouted for joy; w^omen danced around him, 
 curses and jeers followed him to the scaffold. There 
 he was stretched out on the ground until his turn came, 
 for he was too far gone to stand; his eyes opened and he 
 saw the bloody axe; Samson, the executioner, roughly 
 tore off his coat and with it the dirty linen bandage 
 with which his broken jaw had been bound up; a 
 frightful spectacle was exhibited, a horrible cry escaped 
 from him, and soon his liead was held up to the applaud- 
 ing crowd: Robespierre was no more. 
 
 The revolution which caused his downfall is called 
 that of the 9thThermidor, (July 28th 1794). For some 
 time the revolutionary axe was kept at work on the 
 mifecreants who had been accomplices in his bloody 
 
320 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 deeds, Fouquier-Tinville and such as he meeting the 
 fate they had been dealing out to others. Figures do 
 not help us much in estimating scenes like these, but 
 it is said that fourteen hundred persons were executed 
 in Paris alone during the six weeks preceding Robes- 
 pierre's death. In the course of a few months ten 
 thousand were released from the different prisons, and 
 the Convention was mainly occupied in sentencing to 
 death its own members, as each party in turn obtained 
 the ascendency. At length order was restored among 
 them and they began to turn their attention to the 
 affairs of the country. 
 
 CIIAPTEB XXXIII. 
 
 THE DIBECTORT. DAY OF THE SECTION'S. 1795. 
 
 HILE unspeakable horrors were taking place 
 in France, the armies of the Republic were 
 maintaining the honor of the country against 
 the great European coalition with a bravery beyond 
 praise. The absolute dictatorship of the Convention 
 enabled it to pour out enormous numbers of men 
 for the service, and as nobility was not a qualification 
 for promotion as it had been before the Revolution, 
 every man felt that his rising from the ranks depended 
 on himself alone, and fought accordingly. Under 
 Generals Pichegru, Jourdan and Hoche, the French 
 armies were repeatedly successful, and Holland, the 
 first fruits of the new policy, was conquered and turned 
 
DIRECTORY. DAY OF THE SECTIONS. 321 
 
 into a Republic. The campaign in this country 
 presented the remarkable spectacle of the capture of a 
 fleet by a land-force, the Dutch ships being frozen into 
 the river Waal, and falling an easy prey to the French 
 infantry. Conquests were made from Spain and 
 Prussia, and these powers were the first among the 
 great European nations to consent to terms of peace 
 and acknowledge the independence of the new 
 Kepublic. 
 
 By sea the French were not so fortunate. Lord 
 Howe won a great naval victory over them off Ushant, 
 and they had to give up their part of St. Domingo in 
 the West Indies to Spain, while Corsica, helped by 
 England, set itself free again. 
 
 One of the conditions demanded by Spain before 
 signing the treaty of peace was that the unhappy 
 children of Louis the Sixteenth should be delivered 
 up to the their natural protectors, the royal family of 
 Austria. The Convention hesitated about consenting 
 to this article, and while the negotiations were still 
 pending, the prince died. The sad story of this poor 
 boy's life, then imperfectly known or only guessed at, 
 was afterwards revealed by the accounts of his sister, 
 who had been imprisoned with him, and of others 
 who were witnesses of his fate. A course of system- 
 atic cruelty at last destroyed both his mind and body, 
 and he died in June, 1795. His sister was then re- 
 stored to her friends in Austria, and subsequently 
 married her cousin, the Duke d' Angouleme; but the 
 remembrance of the dreadful scenes of her youth never 
 faded from her mind, and she remained always melan- 
 choly and unhappy. 
 21 
 
322 HISTOBY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Successful in arms abroad, France was no less so in 
 repressing insurrections at home. In La Vendee a 
 revolt broke out which cost on both sides a hundred 
 thousand lives; but in the end it was put down. The 
 Royal party in Brittany, under the name of Chouans^ 
 (night-owls), for a long time kept up a desperate strug- 
 gle, with the same result. Unsparing severity was 
 used towards tho vanquished, and the stories of want 
 and desolation which followed are pitiful to read. 
 
 The whole country was in a state of great financial 
 distress. The millions of confiscated property did not 
 go to the support of the poor, but to keep up the enor- 
 mous armies with which France was holdino^ her ene- 
 mies at bay, and the number of men drawn away by 
 war from trade and a2:riculture caused serious loss to 
 both. Government employment was of all things most 
 dreaded, for the payment, being made in the wretched 
 assignats which were daily decreasing in value, was so 
 inadequate that men resigned their ofiices rather than 
 give their labor for what would not support them. 
 Most vexatious and arbitrary laws had been passed in 
 the days of the terror, regulating not only the price 
 of merchandise but even the quantity to be bought 
 so that the population of Paris could not buy bread at 
 the baker's without first procuring tickets from the 
 authorities. The cry of " Bread ! Bread !" became 
 the terror of the government, and it was a continual 
 problem with the Convention how to content tlie peo- 
 ple and yet keep its own hold on power. 
 
 The experiment of uniting in one body all the 
 classes which had formerly composed the States-Gen- 
 eral was considered to have failed. It was resolved 
 
DIRECTORY. DAY OF THE SECTIONS, 323 
 
 that the National Lea:islature should consist of two 
 bodies — a Council of Five Hundred which was to 
 propose the laws, and a Council of Ancients, (so 
 called because no one could serve in it who was less 
 than forty years old), to discuss them, and either 
 accept or reject them. The power of carrying 
 them out was to be in the hands of five persons 
 called a Directory. So far all were agreed, but when 
 the Convention added a condition that two-thirds of 
 the council should be appointed from its own members, 
 a violent opposition was aroused, instigated by the 
 Royalists, wlio had no mind thus to see the Revolu- 
 tionary government perpetuate itself, and hoped 
 gradually to gain a voice in public affairs. 
 
 Preparations were made for resisting the decree by 
 force, and several of the "sections," of Paris, (a 
 division corresponding somewhat to the "wards "of 
 our own cities, but with a certain amount of independ- 
 ent action), were gained over by the Royalists. The 
 plan was submitted to a vote by the people of the 
 whole country and accepted by an immense majority, 
 but the rebellious sections had no thought of yielding. 
 In this emergency the command of an armed force to 
 quell the insurgents was given to that same young 
 lieutenant named Bonaparte who had done good 
 service in driving away the English from Toulon. 
 He was appointed to conduct the operations against 
 the sections, and made his arrangements with such 
 skill and promptness that when the expected rising 
 of the people occurred, he was completely victorious. 
 This success, which took place on what is called "The 
 Day of the Sections," raised Bonaparte to the highest 
 
324 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 place in public esteem, and he was soon afterwards 
 named Commander-in-chief. From this time imtil 
 the battle of Waterloo the interest of French history 
 centres about this remarkable man, all the actions of 
 others seeming insignificant by the side of his bril- 
 liant military career. 
 
 The Convention showed great moderation and 
 clemency in its victory over the Sections; only one 
 man was pat to death and a few imprisoned. A 
 general pardon was issued to all who had been con- 
 victed for political offences, except those already 
 sentenced to transportation, and the prison doors 
 were thrown open; but the emigrants who had fled 
 from their coimtry to save their lives in the beginning 
 of the Revolution were especially excluded from this 
 amnesty. The Convention could not forgive this act 
 of desertion. Belgium, which had been conquered 
 by the armies of the Republic, was declared to be 
 annexed to France. The " Place de la Revolution," 
 — the spot where the guillotine had shed the blood of 
 thousands, — was thenceforth to be called the "Place de 
 la Concorde," which name it still bears. "When these 
 decrees had been passed, the president pronounced 
 the words " The National Convention declares that 
 its mission has been accomplished and its session is 
 closed," and the assembly broke up amid shouts of 
 "Vive la Republique!" on the 26th of October, 1795. 
 
 An immense majority of the people of France still 
 preferred the Republic, in spite of all its horrors arid 
 its follies, to the long tyranny which had j)receded it. 
 The five members of the Directory were all Repub- 
 licans, and had voted for the death of the king. Two 
 
DIRECTORY. DAY OF THE SECTIONS. 325 
 
 of them, Barras and Carnot, were men of ability and 
 experience; the names of the others need not be 
 remembered. The Luxembourg palace was assigned 
 to them for their meetings, but so universal had been 
 the destruction that when they went there to enter 
 upon their duties there was not a piece of furniture 
 to be found in the building. They borrowed a wooden 
 table which was hobbling upon three legs, the fourth 
 havino- tumbled out from old ao-e: and this with some 
 chairs, also borrowed, completed their outfit. They 
 were not discouraged, however, but then and there 
 determined boldly to meet every obstacle and rescue 
 their country from its depth of misery. 
 
 From this discoura^'ino; state of affairs at home, the 
 mind of the French could soon turn with pleasure to 
 the glorious spectacle of Bonaparte's successes in 
 foreign countries. From the moment of his assuming 
 the command of the army, its path was one steady 
 career of victory. The soldiers under his command 
 were in a wretched state of distress and insubordina- 
 tion, occasioned by the want of proper provisions and 
 clothing, but his animating spirit prevailed over all 
 discourao-ements, and his efficient measures brouorht 
 order out of confusion. His men forgot that they were 
 hungry and cold and weary while he was leading them 
 on to glory. To the end of his life, those who were 
 accustomed to personal contact with him regarded him 
 (uidess they happened to quarrel) with an affection 
 little short of idolatry. 
 
 Bonaparte was, as we know, a Corsican. From his 
 earliest years he loved nothing so well as playing 
 soldier, and inspired all his companions with the same 
 
326 HISTORY OF FBANCE. 
 
 spirit. At ten years old he Avas sent to the military 
 school at Brienno, in France, whore he received a 
 thorough military education. The following is tlie 
 certiiicate given him at (iftoen years of age, and copied 
 afterwards by one of his classmates: 
 
 " M. de Buonaparte,* born Aug. 15, 1759, height 4 
 feet 10 indies, has finished his fourth course; of good 
 constitution, excellent health, of submissive disposition, 
 upright, oTateful, and strictly regular in conduct; has 
 always been distinguished for application to the mathe- 
 matics. He is tolerably well acquainted with history 
 and geography. He is i-ather deficient in the orna- 
 mental branches and in Latin, in which he has barely 
 completed the fourth course. He will make an ex- 
 cellent seaman. He is fit to pass to the military school 
 at Paris." 
 
 It must have been hard for Bonaparte ever to have 
 kept up the appearance of a "submissive disposition," 
 for his whole character, as shown during his life, bears 
 the marks of an overpowering arrogance and self-will. 
 He graduated with honor irom the school at Paris, 
 and received a commission as sub-lieutenant in the 
 army, but had no opportunity to distinguish himself 
 until he drove away the British from Toulon in 1703. 
 During this time he was very poor, and being at the 
 same time very proud, he became somewhat misan- 
 thropic, and inclined to look on the world as a very 
 disagreeable place; but this ceased as soon as he had 
 any opportunity of employing his ever restless and 
 
 *His family name was thus spelt. He left out the «■ during his 
 first campaign in Italy, to make the spelling correspond with 
 the French pronunciation. 
 
DUiECTORY. DAY OF THE SECTIONS. 327 
 
 active mind. After the Day of the Sections he 
 was frequently obliged to quell the disturbances 
 which vvere everywhere taking place. He was at that 
 time twenty-six years old. He is said to have been 
 then extremely thin, and of a dark, sallow complex- 
 ion. As he was one day haranguing the crowd on the 
 folly of their course, a corpulent woman screamed 
 out, " Never mind what these smartly-dressed officers 
 say; so long as they get fat, they don't care who is 
 starved." Bonaparte turned toward her and instantly 
 replied, " Look at me, my good woman, and then tell 
 me which of us two is the fatter." The crowd burst 
 into a roar of laughter, and dispersed. A few days 
 after the affair of the Sections a young lad of ten 
 3'^ears old came to Bonaparte to implore that the 
 sword of his father. Viscount B.^auharnais, who had 
 been guillotined during the Reign of Terror, might be 
 restored to him. Touched by the little lad's tears 
 and supplications, the general ordered that the sword 
 should be given up to him. The mother of the boy, 
 a beautiful young widow, called on Bonaparte to 
 thank him for the favor, and this acquaintance led to 
 a marriao;e between them, so in the course of a few 
 months Josephine Beauharnais became Madame Bona- 
 parte. The widow had two children; Eugene, the 
 boy already mentioned, and a daughter called Hortense, 
 who afterward married one of Napoleon's brothers. 
 
328 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV, 
 
 bonapaete's fiust campaigns. — 1796-1799. 
 
 FIE Republic, as will be remembered, was still 
 at war with the Austrians, who had a large 
 army in the northern part of Italy. With a 
 force numbering scarcely more than half of theirs, Bona- 
 parte marched against them in 1796, and b}'- a series 
 of most brilliant military operations, defeated them at 
 all points. It does not accord with the plan of this 
 slight sketch to give the particulars of this wonderful 
 campaign. It was a succession of surprises to the 
 enemy, who never knew where the next blow would 
 fall, so rapid were the movements of Bonaparte and 
 so unexpected his combinations. The names of the 
 great battles at Lodi, iVrcole and Rivoli — all glorious 
 victories — are all we have space for here. It was after 
 the first of these that the soldiers bestowed on him the 
 nickname of " the little Corporal," which clung to 
 him throuo'h life. 
 
 Encouraged by these successes, Bonaparte determined 
 to pursue the retreating army into its own territory, 
 and had advanced to Leoben, seventy-live miles from 
 Vienna, when the discomfited Austrians sent to beg 
 for a suspension of arms. This was granted by the 
 conqueror, who, after signing the preliminary articles 
 of a peace, returned into Italy, which at that time was 
 divided into various governments. Sardinia had its 
 king, Lombardy was under the control of Austria, 
 Venice still kej^t up a show of independence, the pope 
 
BONAPARTE'S FIRST CAMPAIGNS, 329 
 
 reigned in the " States of the Church," tlie king of 
 Naples had dominion over all Southern Italy, and 
 various dukes and princes governed the remainder. 
 As far as Bonaparte's victories extended he exacted 
 contributions from all, and, not content with enormous 
 demands in money, robbed the different sovereigns of 
 their choicest works of art, the accumulations of cen- 
 turies. Pictures, statuary, manuscripts — whatever was 
 most valuable and most prized, — were taken to Paris, 
 and for nearly twenty years adorned the galleries of the 
 Luxembourg and the Louvre. France gained bef 
 sides these the countries of Sivoy and Nice, and the 
 right to keep garrisons in many of the most impor- 
 tant cities of Italy. 
 
 The helpless Pope, after being stripped of his pos- 
 sessions, even the jewels which formed part of his dress 
 being taken fiom him, was removed from place to 
 place, and finally taken to France, where he died. The 
 ancient commonwealth of Venice, havin'r risen a;2rainst 
 the garrisons left there by Bonaparte while he was 
 marching into Germany, was seized by the French, 
 and, after all its centuries of freedom, was turned over 
 to Austria at the Treaty of Campo Formio, by which 
 Bonaparte finally made peace. France was now con- 
 firmed in the possession of Be'gium, together with the 
 coveted "Ithine boundary," while a large portion of 
 territory in Northern Italy, taken from several differ- 
 ent states, was formed into a single one called the 
 "Cisalpine Republic." It reads like a dream, this 
 wonderful panorama of conquests made with a com- 
 paratively small number of men, and passing so rapidly 
 that before the news of one success reached the ears 
 
330 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 of the astonished nations, another had been gained. 
 A French writer says of Bonaparte at this period that 
 " these victories gave him the tone of a master, and he 
 never laid it aside." 
 
 After the treaty of Campo Formio, Bonaparte 
 returned to Paris, where he had a magnificent recep- 
 tion. He spent several months there very quietly 
 with Josephine, devoting himself to study, and avoid- 
 ing any appearance of wishing to attract attention. 
 But he was revolving in his mind an idea which had 
 long occupied it, — that of a military expedition to 
 Egypt. Tlie Directory did not embrace the plan very 
 eagerly at first, but finally consented, as is said, chiefly 
 that so dano-erous a rival mio-ht be removed from their 
 own vicinity. 
 
 Magnificent preparations were made for this great 
 expedition, which included as a part of its equipment 
 a large number of men of learning, or, as the French 
 call them, savans. These were to make a study of the 
 geography, natural history and antiquities of Egypt, 
 and advance the cause of science in France as much as 
 the men of war were to advance her military dominion. 
 On the wa^'-, Bonaparte stopped and took possession of 
 the Island of Malta, which was given up to him by 
 the Knights of St. John, who had held it since it was 
 bestowed upon them by Charles the Fifth in 1525. 
 
 The army landed in Egypt near Alexandria, and 
 having taken that city with but little opposition, 
 proceeded to Cairo. Although Egypt belonged nomi- 
 nally to the Sultan of Turkey and was ruled by a 
 governor subject to him, the real enemies Bonaparte 
 had to contend with there were the Mamelukes, who 
 
BONAPARTE'S FIRST CAMPAIGNS. 331 
 
 were among the best soldiers in the world, and formed, 
 with their officers, a kind of military despotism. 
 Near Cairo was fought the Battle of the Pyramids, 
 before which Bonaparte exclaimed to his soldiers, 
 "Remember that from the summits of those pyramids 
 forty centuries are looking down upon you!" The 
 Mamelukes fought desperately, but were defeated 
 with great loss, and Cairo with all the surrounding 
 country fell into the hands of the French. 
 
 A great reverse of fortune followed this triumph. 
 The fleet, which had been left in Aboukir Bay (among 
 the mouths of the Nile) was attacked and destroyed 
 by the English under Lord Nelson. This is the 
 famous action called " The Battle of the Nile," in 
 which the incident occurred known to our schoolboys 
 by Mrs. Hemans's poem of " Casabianca." Thus cut 
 off from all communication with his country, Bona- 
 parte profited by his isolation to form new schemes of 
 conquest. He organized a government for Egypt, and 
 kept the natives in awe by merciless severity. The 
 Sultan, encouraged by the triumph of the British, now 
 declared war against France, and Bonaparte, not 
 waiting to be attacked, marched into Syria with his 
 army. Here he took the town of Jaffa by storm, and 
 ordered two thousand Turkish prisoners to be mur- 
 dered in cold blood. He then attacked Acre, and in 
 the course of the siege inflicted a bloody defeat on 
 the Turks at the foot of Mount Tabor; but the brav- 
 ery of the garrison, aided by Sir Sydney Smith, who 
 was in command of an English fleet in the harbor, 
 checked him, and he was compelled to abandon Syria 
 and return to Egypt. 
 
HISTOBY OF FRANCE. 
 
 His visions of a magnificent Oriental empire had 
 faded into air, but the return through the desert was a 
 terrible reality. The scorching heat of a Syrian summer, 
 the intolerable thirst, (for there was no water to be had), 
 and above all that dreadful disease called the plague, 
 made the march a scene of frightful suffering. Many 
 wounded soldiers were thrown on the sands to die, 
 bitterly reproaching their comrades for their desertion. 
 All villages that lay in their way and the rich crops 
 waiting to be harvested were set on fire, apparently 
 throuo-h verv wantonness, for their destruction could do 
 no good to the plague-stricken host, and no resistance 
 was offered. At last the sadly-diminished army reached 
 Egypt and were allowed to rest for a short time at 
 Cairo. The Turks had in the meantime landed an 
 army at Aboukir, which Bonaparte attacked and de- 
 feated with tremendous slausi-hter. Learninir from the 
 newspapers the confusion which prevailed in France 
 under the Director}^ he took the extraordinary res- 
 olution of abandoning his army and returning at once, 
 without orders, to France. As a military commander he 
 was of course under the direction of the authorities 
 ihrro, and under a strong government would have been 
 liable to be court-martialed for such a disregard of 
 duty; but he understood the situation, and determined 
 to make himself master of it. 
 
 His preparations for leaving Egypt were made 
 secretly, for he was doing a thing against all law and 
 system. He left General Kleber in command of the 
 " Army of the East," and gratified the soldiers by 
 causing the names of the forty men who fell in the 
 attack at Alexandria to be engraved on Pompoy's Pillar, 
 
BONAPARTE'S FIRST CAMPAIGNS. 333 
 
 in that city. The savans were, after all, those who 
 reaped the most benefit from the unfruitful expedition 
 to Eg3'-pt. They returned home with a great addition 
 to their stock of scientific knowledge, and with a dis- 
 covery which alone, to them, was worth the whole ex- 
 pedition. Tliis was that of the famous Rosetta Stone, 
 a monument of antiquity which, by presenting an in-' 
 scription in tlie old Egyptian characters at the same 
 time with a translation in Greek, has since enabled 
 learned men to read the Egyptian records of remote 
 ages. Bonaparte's foresight had not deceived him. 
 His journey through France was one continued ovation, 
 his countrymen recognizing instantly in him the master- 
 spirit who alone could end the chaos which reigned 
 there. Everywhere on the road complaints met liim 
 of the miserable inefficiency of the Directors. Anx- 
 ious only to secure their own power, they had utterly 
 neglected to provide for the prosperity of the nation. 
 Threatened with a foreign invasion and groaning 
 under tyrannical laws at home, civil war raging in many 
 districts, the highways infested with robbers and un- 
 safe for travelers, it is no wonder that the people of 
 France complained bitterly of a government " without 
 power, without justice and without morality." On 
 the one hand there appeared before their eyes the 
 prospect of another Reign of Terror, on the other, 
 that of a return of the Bourbons. Either was to be 
 dreaded, and they longed for security without tyranny, 
 and liberty without anarchy. 
 
 "Their Five Majesties of the Directory," as the 
 Directors were generally called, had found it hard work 
 to hold their own. There had been revolutions and 
 
334 HISTOEY OF FRANCE, 
 
 counter-revolutions; at one time the Royalists had the 
 majority in the^ Council of Five Hundred, at another 
 the Jacobins, and as each party triumphed in turn, 
 it undid all the vv^ork done by the other. Now we find 
 the Count de Provence, (oldest brother of Louis the 
 Sixteenth and heir to the throne), making arrange- 
 •ments to return; at another, the public exercise of the 
 Christian religion is prohibited, and emigrants who were 
 forbidden under the most severe penalties to depart 
 from their native land, are forbidden to return. 
 
 Foreign nations had not been backward in taking 
 advantage of the distracted state of affairs in France. 
 The arrogance of the Directory caused a second com- 
 bination to be made against it, and the French armies 
 were repeatedly defeated in Italy. For a time Bona- 
 parte kept still and watched the course of events, 
 taking no part in public alfairs, and even laying aside 
 his general's uniform. He gathered his friends quietly 
 about him, making sure of all beforehand. The Abbe 
 Sieyes, a restless politician who had been prominent 
 in the revolution of 1789, thought he had discovered 
 just what the country needed; it was a head and a 
 sword. He evidently flattered himself that his own was 
 to be the head, and he was willing to accept Bonaparte 
 as the sword. Between them they settled on a plan 
 which brought about another revolution — this time, 
 fortunately, effected without bloodshed. 
 
 Bonaparte was appointed to the command of the 
 army in Paris. All things being prepared for 
 
 the coup d'^4tat^ he appeared before the Council of 
 
 V • 
 
 *This term is one for which we have no equivalent in Eng- 
 lish. It means a sudden and unexpected political blow. 
 
BONAPARTE'S FIBST CAMPAIGNS. 335 
 
 Five Hundred, who received him with angry reproaches, 
 some of them even proposing to denounce him as a 
 public enemy. For a moment he quailed before them; 
 then, retiring, he sent in a file of grenadiers, who in a 
 few minutes cleared the hall without firino*. A small 
 number of those members favorable to him were now 
 brought together by his brother Lucien, Avho was presi- 
 dent of the Council. These, in connection with the 
 Council of Ancients, which was on his side, voted to abol- 
 ish the Directory; a large number of the Five Hundred 
 were condemned to banishment, and the chief power was 
 given to Napoleon Bonaparte and two others, who were 
 all elected for ten years, under the name of Consuls. A 
 Tribunate, a Legislative Chamber and a Senate were 
 added, to give the government an appearance of being 
 representative; but in fact all power was soon centred 
 in the hands of Bonaparte as First Consul. 
 
 Thus peaceably was this great change effected. The 
 people in general v/ero so disgusted with the old govern- 
 ment that when the matter was referred to their decision, 
 the votes in favor of the new constitution proposed by 
 Bonaparte and his colleagues were three millions against 
 fifteen hundred. His splendid military achievements 
 had dazzled their eyes, and they never asked whether 
 his elevation to power would advance the cause of that 
 freedom which they had been struggling so desperately 
 for ten years to obtain. The immediate result hoped 
 for was a rule of peace and order, and that being in- 
 sured they asked nothing more. The coup d'etat occur- 
 red on the 18th Brumaire, year VH. of the Republic, 
 (Novem})er 9, 1799), and maybe considered as the 
 closing scene in the great French Revolution. 
 
336 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXY, 
 
 THE CONSULATE. 1799-1804. 
 
 T was easy to recognize the hand of a master 
 as soon as Bonaparte took hold of the govern- 
 ment. The churches were re-opened, the 
 Christian Sunday again took the place of the heathen- 
 ish " decadi," emigrants were welcomed home, great 
 numbers of priests who had refused to take the oath 
 to the " Constitution of the year III.," (1795), were 
 released from the prisons where they had been lan- 
 guishing for years, highway robbery was stopped, and 
 last but not least, the public credit revived and people 
 were no longer afraid to trust the government. 
 
 Order was restored, but not liberty. The newspa- 
 pers opposed to the First Consul were all suppressed, 
 and a system of espionage, or spying, under the 
 direction of the celebrated Fouche, minister of 
 police, was established throughout the country. Every- 
 thing was silently preparing for another great change, 
 and events moved forward towards Bonaparte's as- 
 sumption of supreme power as surely as the hands of 
 a clock draw nearer the hour. He removed his resi- 
 dence from the Luxembourg palace, where the Direc- 
 tory had met, to the Tuileries. " To sleep in the 
 Tuileries" had long been an object of his ambition, 
 and he had the ancient palace fitted up with great 
 splendor. Some artist of the Republic had painted 
 divers liberty caps on the walls as part of. the decora- 
 tion. " Take away that rubbish," said the dictator 
 
THE CONSULATE. 337 
 
 whoti he saw it; "I don't want any such stuff 
 here." So the caps were painted out, as the thing 
 they typified was soon to take its departure also. 
 
 The war with Austria, in spite of the treaty of Campo 
 Formio, was reeominonccd in 1800 with ^rcat fury. 
 Again Italy was the battle-ground, and her beautiful 
 plains were once more trampled down by opposing 
 armies. Bonaparte, having engaged two divisions of 
 the Austrian army at a great distance apart, formed 
 the resolution of crossing the Alps by difficult and 
 dangerous passes, and appearing just where he was 
 least expected. The exertions made in carrying out 
 this bold design were almost superhuman. Not only 
 men but cannon, bafrffajro and ammunition had to be 
 carried over nearly impassable mountains. The genius 
 of the general and the endurance of his army over- 
 came every obstacle. The cannon were placed in 
 hollow logs and dragged over the precipitous roads by 
 men harnessed to them like horses, a hundred to each 
 piece. The men shouted and sang as they marched, 
 and when an unusually hard place was to be passed the 
 trumpet sounded a charge, as if they were rushing into 
 battle. The gun-carriages were taken to pieces and 
 carried on the backs of mules. In spite of a thousand 
 dangers the passage was safely accomplished, and the 
 BVench army, arriving at Milan, took possession of that 
 city without opposition. 
 
 The Austrian general would not believe the report 
 that Bonaparte had actually crossed the Alps with an 
 army. Such a thing had never been heard of since 
 the days of Hannibal; in fact, it was "impossible." 
 Bonaparte and his army were there, nevertheless, and 
 22 
 
8;3S HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the desperate battle of Marengo, near Milan, resulted 
 once more in the success of the Frencli, though they 
 but narrowly escaped a defeat, and the brave General 
 Desaix was slain. Many fortresses were given up by 
 the enemy, an armistice was agreed upon until terms of 
 peace could be settled, and Bonaparte returned to Paris 
 to receive the laurels which he had so well earned. A 
 few months after this General Morcau attacked the Aus- 
 trians in their own territory and won the battle of 
 Hohenlinden, scarcely less glorious than that of 
 Marengo. They were now quite ready to conclude 
 a peace, and the Treaty of Luneville which followed 
 was nearly a repetition of that of Campo Formio. 
 
 Great Britain was still carrying on the war. An 
 expedition was sent out which took possession of 
 Malta and proceeded to Egypt. General Kleber, who 
 was left in command there by Bonaparte, had been 
 assassinated on the day of the battle of Marengo, 
 and his place was taken by General Menou — a very 
 absurd person, who adopted the Mahometan religion 
 and married a Turkish wife. This officer was not 
 able to resist the English under Sir Ralph Aber- 
 cromby, and agreed to abandon Egypt altogether. 
 
 The great English statesman, William Pitt, had 
 always been bitterly opposed to making peace with 
 Bonaparte. He was terribly grieved by the continual 
 successes of the young conqueror; it is said that when 
 he heard of the victory at Marengo, he exclaimed in 
 despair, "Fold up the map of Europe for the next twenty 
 years." But both sides were tired of war, as well they 
 might be. Mr. Pitt retired from office, and a treaty 
 was signed at Amiens in 1802, which left the relations 
 
THE CONSULATE. 339 
 
 of France and England very much as they had been 
 before the war began. l!i the same year Napoleon 
 Bonaparte was made Consul for life. Step .by step he 
 was nearing the summit of power and grandeur. It 
 was now that this wonderful man had an opportunity 
 of showing that he was no less great in peace than in 
 war. Nothing escaped his far-reaching mind. Manu- 
 factures, commerce, education, arts and sciences, pub- 
 lic works which are to this day the wonder of travelers 
 and the pride of France, institutions of learning, 
 museums, libraries, all occupied his attention and 
 sprang into life and j^rospered under his auspices. 
 TJie Roman Catholic religion was declared to be the 
 religion of the French people, and the government 
 bound itself to make provision for the clergy. An 
 Order of Merit called the Lecfion of Honor was foun- 
 ded to reward people who had served the state well, 
 whether as soldiers or in their civil capacity. From 
 this none were to be excluded on account of low birth; 
 thus emulation was excited, and honor conferred where 
 honor was due. 
 
 In one instance his usual'^scrimination failed him. 
 Robert Fulton presented to his notice an invention for 
 using steam in propelling boats against the stream, 
 but Bonaparte, having a prejudice (perhaps founded 
 on experience) against inventors, refused to listen to 
 him. A few years later, America gave the welcome 
 which France had refused, and the first steamboat 
 sailed up the Hudson River. 
 
 The most striking achievement in this reorganization 
 was the institution of the great system of civil law, 
 which is still the one prevailing in France. The 
 
340 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 " Code Napoleon " is the admiration of lawyers and 
 judges in Other countries; and now, after all the great 
 soldier's nailitary conquests have passed away, remains 
 his most/ honorable and enduring monument. The 
 system under the monarchy had been very complicated 
 and various. A great writer says that a man traveling 
 throuo-h France chano^ed laws oftener than he chanfred 
 horses. There were at least three hundred separate 
 systems. All these were superseded by the one strong, 
 consistent, harmonious " Code" instituted under Bona- 
 parte's orders and supervision, by a commission com- 
 posed of the best lawyers of the land. 
 
 Napoleon Bonaparte now held the proudest position 
 occupied by any man in the world. The splendor of 
 his military genius caused' his name to ring from one 
 end of Europe to the other, and the excellence of his 
 government at home, arbitrary though it was, filled 
 the hearts of his countrymen with love and respect for 
 him. Could he have been content with such universal 
 homaace he mio-ht have made of France what- he 
 would; but ambition still led him on to acts of aggres- 
 sion, until in self-defence the other nations of Europe 
 banded together, not so much against France, as 
 against her great captain. 
 
 Several countries in Italy were annexed to France, 
 and others remodeled into republics, of which Bona- 
 parte had the control, though, in some cases he pro- 
 fessed to leave the administration in the hands of a 
 native ruler. One would think his mission on earth 
 had been to establish republics. Besides those in 
 Italy, he interfered with the Swiss, who had for hun- 
 dreds of years maintained their independence, and 
 
THE CONSULATE. 341 
 
 compelled them to accept a constitution of his own 
 selection, and to become the "Helvetic Republic." 
 His single piece of ill-luck during these triumphant 
 years was the loss of the colony of San Domingo, in the 
 West Indies, where the black population rebelled 
 against their French masters and succeeded, with some 
 help from England, in gaining their freedom. Their 
 leader, Toussaint I'Ouverture, was a very remarkable 
 person, according to some accounts not unlike Wash- 
 ington in character, but he was taken prisoner and 
 carried to France, where he died. Bonaparte would 
 probably have reduced the rebels to submission but 
 for a frightful pestilence which broke out in the island 
 and carried off great numbers of French soldiers, 
 among them General ■ Leclerc, who had married 
 Napoleon's sister, Pauline. 
 
 Almost as soon as the treaty of peace with England 
 was signed at Amiens the two nations began their old 
 disputes, and in little more than a year they were at 
 war again. Malta was the principal bone of conten- 
 tion, Great Britain not having evacuated it according 
 to the terms of the treaty. Each nation now taxed its 
 ingenuity to discover what would do most harm to its 
 opponent. Without giving notice, England seized all 
 French vessels in her own harbors, inflicting an enor- 
 mous loss on the French;. Bonaparte arrested all Brit- 
 ish subjec^ts traveling in France and held them as 
 prisoners. For years these unfortunate peo])le, who 
 had crossed the Channel in great numbers after the 
 peace, were cut off from their friends and relatives, 
 and were in a worse position tlian ordinary prisoners 
 of war, because they could not be exchanged. The 
 
342 • HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 war was not confined to these bloodless demonstrations. 
 The French army under General Mortier conquered 
 Hanover, then belonging to the English crown 
 and which the dictator presented to Prussia some time 
 afterward; and General Saint Cjr took possession of 
 several ports in the kingdom of. Naples. But the 
 grand project was an invasion of England, in which 
 Bonaparte hoped to re-enact the part of William the 
 Conqueror. Immense preparations were made, to 
 which the whole English nation responded with pro- 
 portionate plans for defence, all England being aroused 
 to such patriotic fervor as had never before been wit- 
 nessed. 
 
 Bonaparte was not without enemies at home. Some 
 years before, an "infenial machine " was prepared by 
 the Royalists for his destruction. It consisted of a 
 barrel of powder with a lighted slow-match attached, 
 loaded on a cart which was placed in a street through 
 which the Consul must pass on his way to the opera. 
 Bonaparte's carriage passed, then Josephine's, and then 
 the explosion took place, not more than a few seconds 
 too late to effect the purpose for which it was designed. 
 The glass in the second carriage was shattered; fifty- 
 two persons were killed or wounded; but Bonaparte 
 was uninjured, and went on and appeared at the opera 
 as if nothing had happened. 
 
 A more wide-spread conspiracy was organized by 
 General Pichegru and a Ghouan named Cadoudal, 
 having for its object the assassination of Bonaparte. 
 General Moreau, who won the battle of Hohenlinden, 
 was also implicated, but as it was proved that he re- 
 fused to have anything to do with murder, he was only 
 
THE CONSULATE. 343 
 
 banished from the country. Cadoudal and ten of his 
 fellow-conspirators were executed; Pichegru commit- 
 ted suicide in prison. 
 
 In connection with these .events a crime was com- 
 mitted which must forever darken the name of Napo- 
 leon. The Duke of Engluen, a descendant of the 
 great Conde, was accused of having been privy to the 
 conspiracy. Though there was no evidence of this, 
 and scarcely even a ground for suspicion, Bonaparte 
 sent a party of dragoons into the territory of a neigh- 
 boring German prince, under whose protection the 
 Duke was living, seized him by force and brought 
 him to Vincennes, near Paris, wdiere, after a mock 
 trial, conducted at night, in which sentence had been 
 pronounced beforehand, he was shot with indecent 
 haste. Bonaparte tried to excuse this murder, (for it 
 wa^ nothing else), by saying that it was an act of 
 necessity; but the feeling caused by it throughout 
 Europe was one of indignation and disgust. 
 
 The events just described probably hastened a step 
 on which the First Consul had long before decided — 
 the transformation of* the so-called French Republic 
 into an Empire. The Senate and the Legislative 
 Chamber agreed that republican institutions had not 
 proved adequate to the necessities of the country, and 
 that a more stable government was indispensable; 
 they therefore proclaimed Napoleon Bonaparte Em- 
 peror of the French, the throne being made heredita- 
 ry in his family. This proposition being put to the vote 
 of the whole nation, was accepted by an enormous 
 majority, in 1804. 
 
 And now behold France fastening on# herself 
 
344 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 deliberately the yoke of hereditary jDOwer which she had 
 poured out so much blood and money to shake off! 
 Sir Walter Scott says, "France in 1792 had been like 
 the wild elephant in his fits of fury, when to oppose 
 his course is death; in 180-4 she was like the same 
 animal tamed and trained, who kneels down and suf- 
 fers himself to be mounted by the soldiers whose 
 business it is to drive him into the throng of the 
 battle." 
 
 From this time we know Bonaparte only under his 
 Christian name, such beino- the custom in reo^-ard to 
 royal persons. The first king of the house of Tudor 
 or of Capet dropped his family name on coming to 
 the throne, and the Corsican soldier would be no 
 whit behind them. He was crowned in the Cathedral 
 of Notre Dame, at Paris, with the utmost splendor, by 
 Pope Pius the Seventh, who came from Italy express- 
 ly for the purpose. AVhen the Pope would have 
 placed the crown upon his head, Napoleon took it 
 into his own hands and put it on, disdaining to yield 
 to any one else even this symbolical act of power. 
 He himself would be all in all. With his own hand, 
 also, he crowned the lovely Josephine, who knelt 
 before him, and the old church resounded with the 
 grand anthem " Te Deum.*" 
 
 In accordance with the custom of the early empe- 
 rors. Napoleon wished also to be crowned King of 
 Italy, and having by the touch of his w^and transform- 
 ed the Cisalpine Republic into a monarchy, he w^ent. 
 to Milan, and there in the cathedral assumed the "iron 
 crown" of the ancient Kings of Lombardy. This 
 diadem took its name from a thin band of iron (said 
 
THE EMPIRE. 345 
 
 to have been made from the nails of the true cross) 
 concealed under the velvet and precious stones which 
 form the outside. Napoleon's step-son, Eugene de 
 Beauharnais, was sent to Italy as Viceroy, while the 
 emperor busied himself with his preparations for the 
 invasion of Eun-land. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE EMPIRE. — 1804-1814. 
 
 I'EFORE his coronation, Napoleon held a grand 
 
 review of the "army of England" at Bou 
 logne, where, seated in the thousand-years 
 old cli;dr of Dagobert, which he caused to be trans- 
 ported from Paris for the occasion, he distributed 
 crosses of the Legion of Honor among his soldiers, 
 whom his presence never failed to fdl with the wildest 
 enthusiasm. After becoming Emperor, he made over- 
 tures of peace to England, addressing George the 
 Third as his " brothei-;" but was told, through the 
 secretary of state, that Great Britain could do nothing 
 without consulting the other European powers. The 
 ministry in that country was now again in the hands 
 of Pitt, and all felt sure, by this time, that the Empe- 
 I'or was not sincere in his professed desire for peace. 
 England entered into another league with Russia and 
 Austria against their grasping "brother;" and when 
 an Austrian army took the field with the purpose of 
 recovering some of the places which had been seized 
 
346 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 by Napoleon, the army intended to invade England 
 was hastily withdrawn from the Channel coast and 
 marched into Germany without delay. 
 
 In three v^^eeks, and without any great battle, the 
 eighty thousand men composing the Austrian force 
 were taken prisoners or dispersed by the consummate 
 skill of Napoleon, who entered Vienna as a conqueror 
 and established himself in the imperial palace. From 
 the cannon found in the arsenals was made the famous 
 column in the Place Vendome at Paris. 
 
 In the midst of the exultation produced by such 
 successes as these, news came from the coast of Spain 
 which would have dampened the spirits of any other 
 nation than the French. The battle of Trafalgar, 
 fought by the English under Lord Nelson against the 
 French fleet, had resulted in the almost total destruction 
 of Napoleon's navy. Dreaded as he was on land, the 
 moment he ventured to dispute with Enghand the em- 
 pire of the seas, he was overwhelmed. The unfortu- 
 nate Admiral Villeneuve, who had commanded the 
 French shijDS in the action, committed suicide while 
 awaiting his trial by court-martial for the loss of the 
 battle. After this, Napoleon sent no more fleets to sea. 
 Before he returned to his own country, however, the 
 battle of Austerlitz, that masterpiece of military skill, 
 had effaced from men's minds all thoughts of the naval 
 misfortune. This has been called "the battle of the three 
 emperors," for Francis of Austria and Alexander of 
 Russia witnessed from a neio^hborino^ hill the destruc- 
 tion of their magnificent armies. They fled from the 
 scene, and at the Peace of Presburg which followed, 
 Napoleon was again the arbiter of nations. Slices 
 
THE EMPIRE. 347 
 
 were cut from Austria in various places and bestowed 
 upon her neiglibors at the will of the mighty autocrat, 
 while the Czar of all the Russias was tliankful to be 
 allowed to reth'e unmolested to his own dominions. 
 
 Austria and Russia humbled and England silenced, 
 Napoleon now turned his attention towards the South. 
 A slight pretext was sufficient to draw from him the 
 declaration that " the House of Bourbon had ceased to 
 reign in Naples;" the royal family withdrew to Sicily 
 and the vicant throne was filled by Joseph Bonaparte, 
 the elder bi-other of the Emperor. His brother Louis 
 was made King of Holland, while dukedoms and prin- 
 cipalities rewarded the brave generals who had been 
 made " Marshals of France" after his coronation. The 
 "Confederacy of the Rhine" was entered into by 
 various German Princes, who at his command declared 
 themselves forever separated from Germany, and that 
 ancient empire, which had existed for a thousand years, 
 was broken up. Francis the Second, who had been 
 Emperor of Germany, dropped that title and called 
 himself Emperor of Austria, of which country he had 
 before been Grand-Duke. There was not another 
 Emperor of Germany until 1871. 
 
 The King of Prussia had not been warned ijy the 
 fate of his neio-hbors. Resentino- an affront offered 
 him by Napoleon, he raised a great army and placed in 
 command of it the Duke of Brunswick, who had com- 
 manded the armies allied against France in 1792. At 
 the battle of Jena this splendid host was routed with 
 terrible carnage, and the king and queen fled in haste 
 from their capital, where Napoleon fixed his headquar- 
 ters. Here he displayed all the insolence of triumph. 
 
348 HISTORY OF FBANCE. 
 
 The royal family were insulted, the richly-stored 
 galleries and museums robbed of their tre:isures of 
 art, and the nobility treated with galling contempt. 
 In the " Berlin Decrees," issued at this time, Napoleon 
 reached the last extreme of assumption. As he could 
 not by his own power drive Enghmd from the seas, he 
 resolved to make use of other nations as his tools for 
 that purpose. He declared the British Isles in a state 
 of blockade, (on paper), forbade all trade with the 
 detested islanders, confiscated the property of British 
 subjects wherever found, and prohibited all vessels of 
 any nationality coming from England or her ports in 
 any part of the world, from entering the harbors of 
 France. This was called the " Continental System" 
 and any nation that refused to act upon it became 
 Napoleon's enemy. 
 
 More fiorhtino' ao-ain, this time with the Russians. 
 They defeated Napoleon at the battle of Eylau; but 
 in a few months he brouo-ht two hundred thousand 
 men to bear on the enemy, and at Friedland victory 
 was again on his side. After this tlie Czar was quite 
 ready to conclude a peace, and a meeting took place 
 between them like those of an earlier century in the 
 river Bidassoa. Exactly in the middle of the river Nie- 
 mon, which in one place separates Russia from Prussia, 
 a large raft was moored; on this a tent was erected, and 
 in this tent the emperors met and embraced each other. 
 " I hate the English as much as you do," were the 
 first words of business spoken by the Czar. "In that 
 case," answered Napoleon, "peace is made already." 
 This peace is known to the world as the Treaty of 
 Tilsit. By this it was arranged that the king of Prussia 
 
THE EMPIRE. 349 
 
 should give up the western portion of his country, 
 which was to be called the Kingdom ^f Westphalia 
 and given to Napoleon's brother Jerome, and on the 
 east, that part of Poland which had come to Prussia in 
 the partition of 1772, was to bo handed over to the 
 king of Saxony. The down trodden Poles, who had 
 furnished Napoleon some fine troops, hoped through 
 his means to recover their independence, and were 
 bitterly disappointed at the result of the conference. 
 
 The marvelous fortunes of Napoleon were at their 
 height after the Peace of Tilsit. The people of France 
 were in a state of delirious enthusiasm. He was to 
 them more than a hero; he was a demigod. Language 
 failed in attempting to express their idolatry, and 
 some of the flatteries addressed to him recall to our 
 minds the court of Queen Elizabeth. He repaid this 
 devotion by a more than Tudor- like tyranny. The 
 press was placed exclusively under his control, and 
 nothing could be published which had not been first 
 examined by his censors. To supply soldiers for his 
 destructive campaigns, he resorted to a merciless con- 
 scription, anticipating each year the legal age at which 
 men could be drafted into the army, until towards the 
 end of his career the regiments were made up largely 
 of boys, of whom more died from fatigue and exhaus- 
 tion than on the field of battle. 
 
 Of all the aggressions of Napoleon, his conduct 
 towards Spain and Portugal was perhaps the one most 
 utterly without a shadow of justification. He had 
 ordered the Re2:ent of Portuoral to arrest all the Brit- 
 ish subjects in his dominions and confiscate all British 
 property. The Regent, though he complied, showed 
 
350 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 some disinclination thus to outrngc a nation with 
 which ho was at peace; upon which Napoleon declared 
 that the House of Braoranza* had ceased to vaim^ 
 in Europe, and sent General Junot there with thirty 
 thousand men to make his statement good. He next 
 induced the king of Spain to trust himself and his 
 family on French soil, and when he had them safe at 
 Ba3^onne, procured from them an act resigning all their 
 rights into his hands, after v/hich his brother Joseph 
 was promoted to fill the throne of Spain, the king- 
 dom of Naples passing to Murat, who had married 
 Caroline Bonaparte, Napoleon's sister. 
 
 The subjects of the tw^o feeble kings thus driven 
 from their dominions did not take matters so easily. 
 Insurrections arose at once in Spain, and daily assassin- 
 ations, not only of the French, but of Spaniards who 
 favored them, showed how determined the natives 
 were to resist foreio-n interference. One French ^en- 
 eral was forced to surrender, with his army; another 
 was beaten at the battle of Vimiera by the English 
 commander Wellesley, (afterwards Duke of Welling- 
 ton), and driven out of Portugal. Napoleon now 
 crossed the Pyrenees in person, defeated the Spaniards 
 in several battles, and replaced his brother Joseph on 
 the tottering throne which was anything but a bed of 
 roses to him. The battle of Corunna will always be 
 remembered by Englishmen on account of the death 
 of Sir John Moore, immortalized by the verses begin- 
 ning, 
 
 " Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note." 
 
 * The name of the royal family of Portugal. 
 
THE EMPIRE, 351 
 
 The English had the advantage, l)ut immediately after- 
 wards embarked for home, leaving Spain to take care 
 of itself for a time. They afterwards sent another 
 army, and the Peninsular War continued for six years 
 with varying success: the battles of Talavera, Albuera, 
 Salamanca and Vittoria were gained by the English 
 during this time, and in 1813 the French were driven 
 out of the Peninsula altogether. 
 
 King Joseph escaped with his life, though little 
 mor»', and retired into the obscurity from which his 
 brother had dragged him forth. He was himself of a 
 mild disposition, (a fact which subjected him to bitter 
 taunts from Napoleon), but the barbarities committed 
 or permitted by the French Marshals during his short 
 reign made the French name deservedly odious in the 
 Peninsula. 
 
 We must now go back to tlie wars with other 
 nations, for the emperor's life was but one succession of 
 contests. The Austrians took advantaore of his absence 
 in. Spain to bring an enormous army into th^ field. ' 
 Napoleon hurried back into his own country, crossed 
 the Rhine, drove all before him, took sixty thousand 
 prisoners and great quantities of artillery, and a second 
 time entered Vienna as a conqueror. It w\is after 
 thi.s, at the battle of Aspern, that he ordered his first 
 retreat. Here forty thousand men were sacrificed 
 without accomplishing anything on either side, and 
 the fiery Marshal Lannes, one of Napoleon's greatest 
 favorites, received his death- wound. It seemed as if 
 the great soldier's enemies had begun to learn from 
 him the art of war. 
 
 In a few days the battle of Wagram, a brilliant 
 
352 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 victory for the French, terminated the struggle. The 
 Emperor of Austria, hopeless of resisting what seemed 
 to be his fate, signed a humiliating treaty of peace 
 by which he gave up to Napoleon a vast extent of 
 territory, a tribute in money, and his kingly dignity, 
 for he promised adherence to the Continental System, 
 and acknowledged each of the newly-created monarch- 
 ies. 
 
 We have seen the conqueror loading his own family 
 
 with honors to which they had no claim; we have seen 
 him place upon his wife's brow the coronet which 
 made her a sharer in his intoxicating triumph; we 
 have now to see how little real feelino; lurked under 
 this apparent generosity, and how coolly the being who 
 was dearest to him was sacrificed as soon as he thought 
 that her place could be filled by one who would min- 
 ister better to his ambition. The Empress Josephine 
 had been to him the most tender and devoted wife. 
 She had bestowed her hand upon him Avhen he was a 
 poor young lieutenant, with nothing, as her friends 
 said in trying to dissuade her from the marriage, but 
 " his cloak and his sword," and she had presided over 
 his court with a grace and sweetness which made up 
 to some extent for his own insolent and discour- 
 teous manners. But his heart was set on being the 
 founder of a family Avhich should carry down his 
 oTcatness to future generations, and Josephine had no 
 children after her marriage with him. Napoleon, 
 therefore, with profound selfishness and a perfect in- 
 difference to the laws of God and man, determined to 
 separate from her. The Senate and the Ecclesiastical 
 Court of Paris, which were but the slaves of his will, 
 
THE EMPIRE. 353 
 
 pronounced a decree of divorce, and the warm-hearted 
 wife, whose affection for her husband continued throuixh 
 both good and evil fortune, was sent to wear out her 
 soul in sorrow at Malmaison, a beautiful country-place 
 which Napoleon had given her in their happy days, 
 and where she spent, in dignified retirement, the re- 
 mainder of a chequered life. 
 
 Hoping to purchase the friendship of the great 
 powers of Europe by an alliance with one of them. 
 Napoleon soon afterwards married Maria Louisa, 
 daughter of the Emperor of Austria. A son, who was 
 immediately proclaimed King of Rome, was born of 
 this union; but apart from this it did not produce the 
 hoped-for results. The proud sovereigns who were 
 obliged to receive Napoleon as a political equal, liked 
 him none the better for thus forcino; himself into 
 their family circle; and in France the marriage was 
 extremely unpopular. From this time we begin to 
 see indications of his downfall; and the coincidence 
 is too striking not to have furnished reasons to many 
 observers for connecting his subsequent misfortunes 
 with this abandonment of justice and honor. 
 
 The Continental System soon gave excuse for more 
 "annexing." As Pope Pius the Seventh declined to 
 concur in it, or to recognize Murat as Kino* of Na- 
 pies, the Papal States were declared annexed to the 
 French Empire, though the Pope was graciously per- 
 mitted to remain in the Vatican. Declining the 
 friendship of France at the price of sul)mission, he 
 excommunicated Napoleon and everybody who aided 
 and abetted him. Upon this the aged pontiff was 
 seized in his palace at midnight and carried off to 
 23 
 
354 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 France, where he was detained, though treated with 
 respect, for nearly five years. 
 
 Louis Bonaparte, also, the King of Holland, refused 
 to destroy th3 prosperity of his new subjects by 
 sacrificing their commerce with England. Thereupon 
 his affectionate brother sent Marshal Oudinot into 
 Holland with twenty thousand men, to take possession 
 of the country and annex it to France. Louis retired 
 to Austria, and from that country issued a proclama- 
 tion letting the world know very plainly what he 
 thouo-ht of such efforts at universal dominion. 
 
 o 
 
 In still another quarter, the great dictator found his 
 will resisted. The King of Sweden, having no children, 
 had appointed as his heir Bernadotte, one of Napo- 
 leon's marshals. This proved an excellent choice for 
 Sweden, but was displeasing to Napoleon, who did 
 not find his old companion-in-arms as docile as he 
 could have wished. The Berlin decrees were, as 
 usual, the occasion of strife. Bernadotte, a just and 
 honorable man, was unwiilino: to enforce what was so 
 manifestly unreasonable, and Swedish Pomerania, a 
 province within the present territory of Prussia, be- 
 came a depot for English merchandise. Early in the 
 year 1812, a year memorable for its later events, a 
 French army was sent, without any declaration of 
 war, into Pomerania, and Berandotte appealed to 
 Alexander of Russia for assistance. 
 
 The Czar had long felt that it would be impossible 
 for him to continue at peace with Napoleon, but hesi- 
 tated to besrin a struo-o-le which must involve such 
 momentous consequences. Napoleon did not wait for 
 him, however. He put his army in motion and 
 
BUSSIAN CAMPAIGN. ELBA. 355 
 
 proceeded to Dresden, where he was splendidly enter- 
 tained by the king of Saxony, who had also the 
 emperor and empress of Austria and the king of Prus- 
 sia, besides lesser monarchs, for his guests. Surround- 
 ed thus by crowned heads and by a brilliant circle 
 of princes, dukes, marshals and nobility of various 
 sorts. Napoleon passed several weeks at Dresden, 
 awaiting the return of his envoy from Russia. On 
 finding that the Czar would not come to terms, he ex- 
 claimed with his usual hauo-htiness, " Russia is drasfffed 
 on by a fate; let her destiny be accomplished! " If he 
 could have looked a little farther into the book of 
 Fate, he would have seen that it was not her destiny 
 that was to be fulfilled, but his own. 
 
 CHAPTEB XXXVIL 
 
 PROM THE EXPEDITION TO RLTSSIA TO THE RETURN" 
 FROM ELBA. 1812-1815. 
 
 EVER in modern times has an army so enor- 
 mous as that of Napoleon now was, moved at 
 once in one direction. The most moderate 
 accounts place its numbers at nearly half a million of 
 men. Not all of this vast host were Frenchmen. 
 Austrians and Prussians, Swiss and Italians, even 
 recreant Spaniards and Portuguese, pressed forward, 
 hoping to find victory and booty under the banners of 
 France. The rendezvous was at Wilna in Poland, and 
 
356 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 many Poles eagerly seized the opportunity of attacking 
 Russia, their enemy and oppressor, under the safe- 
 guard of the conqueror's protection. As it was late in 
 the summer before the immense force of all arras 
 could be collected, it was proposed to postpone the 
 advance until the following year, but Napoleon's long- 
 ing for conquest would not allow him to wait. 
 " Peace," he said, " awaits us under the walls of Mos- 
 cow! " 
 
 Towards Moscow, therefore, he set his face. The 
 Russian policy was at first only to harrass his army 
 by cutting off small bodies of men who were foraging 
 for subsistence, and to turn the country into a desert 
 by burning villages and towns, as well as all fruits of 
 the harvest that lay in the' path of the invader. A 
 battle, however, was hazarded at the village of Boro- 
 dino, where there was a tremendous loss of life on 
 both sides, and the Russian army under General 
 Kutusoff was compelled to retreat, though not with- 
 out giving the invaders a staggering blow. After this, 
 Napoleon was allowed to pursue his way to Moscow, 
 for the enemy well knew that his persistence would 
 prove his destruction. The terrors of a Russian win- 
 ter had not been counted on as among the obstacles to 
 be met by the French. Being in. the midst of a hostile 
 country, without food, and all comTiiunication with his 
 own country having been cut off, it would be only 
 necessary to leave the enemy to the forces of nature to 
 insure his ruin. 
 
 As the French army drew nearer, the Russians in 
 Moscow quietly began to depart. The wealthier part 
 of the population went first, carrying with them their 
 
RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN. ELBA. 357 
 
 valuables of every description; the middle classes fol- 
 lowed; whatever could be taken in their hurried de- 
 parture was removed, and when the Emperor entered 
 the old capital there remained only empty houses 
 and the lowest class of the population. Napoleon es- 
 tablished himself in that part of the city called the 
 Kremlin, in a magnificent palace which had been in- 
 habited by Russian emperors up to the tinie of Peter 
 the Great. On the same night a fire broke out in the 
 city, and the soldiers, exhausted with fatigue as they 
 were after their weary march, were roused from their 
 sleep to quell it. After raging for several hours it 
 was put down, but the next night flames burst forth in 
 so many places at once as to show an intention to 
 burn out the French as well as starve and freeze them 
 out. This time the conflagration could not be con- 
 trolled; a fierce wind fanned the flames, and a great 
 part of the city lay in ruins. Napoleon now proposed 
 negotiation, but General Kutusoff answered that no 
 negotiation could be even begun while a single French 
 soldier remained on Russian soil. Finding him firm 
 in this determination, the invader prepared, with a 
 heavy heart, to retreat. Marshal Mortier, who com- 
 manded the rear-guard, was ordered to blow up the 
 Kremlin. Fortunately for Moscow, the rapid return 
 of the Russian army prevented this act of vandalism 
 from being fully carried into efi'ect. 
 
 The horrors of that homeward march one hardly 
 dares to describe. The winter set in earlier than 
 usual and with frightful severity. The soldiers died 
 by thousands in the wild snow-storms which swept over 
 the country, and many of those who lay down by their 
 
858 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 camp-fires at night were found cold and stiff in the 
 morning. They were poorly fed, and the weakness 
 arising from this increased their sensibility to cold. 
 Almost all the horses died, and thousands of wagons, 
 laden with provisions and with the spoils of Moscow, 
 were abandoned on the road. One of the officers who 
 accompanied Napoleon on that dreadful journey tells 
 us that all along their line of march were little 
 hillocks in the snow, which the next spring's thaw 
 discovered to be caused by the bodies of French 
 soldiers as they fell by twos and threes to rise no 
 more. When the army reached the plain of Boro- 
 dino they saw the remains of twenty thousand unburied 
 corpses of their countrymen, partly devoured by beasts 
 of prey. But they were obliged to hasten on, with 
 only a passing glance of dismay. 
 
 I quote Sir Walter Scott's description of a part of 
 this march. " The stragglers, who now comprehended 
 almost the whole army, divided into little bands, 
 who assisted each other, and had sometimes the aid 
 of a miserable horse, which, when it fell down 
 under the burden of what they had piled on it, was torn 
 to pieces and eaten, while life was yet palpitating in 
 its veins. These bands had chiefs selected from 
 amono- themselves. Those associated into such a 
 fraternity would communicate to none save those of 
 their own party, a mouthful of rye- dough, which, sea- 
 soned with gunpowder for want of salt, and eaten 
 with a bouille of horse-flesh, formed the best part of 
 their food. Neither would they permit a stranger to 
 warm himself at their fires, and when spoil was found, 
 two of these companies often, especially if of differ- 
 
RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN. ELBA. 359 
 
 ent countries, fought for the possession of it; and a 
 handful of meal was a sufficient temptation for putting 
 to death the wretch who could not defend his booty." 
 At the passage of the river Beresina a Russian force 
 was waiting to intercept them. Napoleon • instantly 
 had two bridges thrown across the river, over which the 
 greater part of his army crossed without loss. Then 
 the Russians suddenly attacked the remaining body, 
 and to prevent the enemy from crossing the river one 
 bridge was blown up, by order of the French general, 
 while the other broke down under the wein-ht of the 
 
 o 
 
 artillery. A heart-rending scene followed. Thousands 
 of the struggling troops were drowned in the icy 
 waters; thousands more, driven back upon the Russian 
 sabres, were slaughtered, and the remainder were 
 taken prisoners. 
 
 After all these vicissitudes, and many, many more, 
 probably not more than one-tenth of the gallant men 
 who set out with Napoleon from Wilna five months 
 before, remained to cross the Niemen as a straggling 
 mass of fugitives, without order or discipline, on their 
 return. Their commander had already deserted them. 
 Quitting the army in disguise, he went forward on 
 sledges with three or four of his friends, as fast as 
 horses could carry them, and traveling as secretly as 
 possible, reached Paris only a few hours after his 
 bulletin saying that all was lost had been published in 
 the capital. 
 
 It was not long before Napoleon was on his way to 
 Prussia with another army, for the king of Prussia and 
 the Czar had allied themselves too-ether to resist him, 
 and France once more poured out her thousands, as she 
 
360 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 was persuaded, for her defence, not knowing that it 
 was only that the Emperor might continue to be the 
 autocrat of Europe. After the desperately-fought 
 battles of Lutzen and Bautzen, in which a barren 
 victory remained with the French, no trophies having 
 been won, Austria, acting as a mediator, proposed 
 terms of peace. These terms were that France should 
 abandon the greater part of her conquests, which were 
 to be restored to the rightful owners. This offer 
 Napoleon indignantly refused, and the Emperor 
 Francis announced his intention of joining himself to 
 the opposite side. 
 
 Three great nations were now in arms against 
 France, besides the English, who, under Wellington, 
 were gradually driving the French out of Spain. 
 
 Napoleon had established his headquarters at Dres- 
 den, in very different style from that of his visit there 
 on his way to Russia, and it was near this city that a 
 battle was fought extending over two days, which 
 resulted in the defeat of the allies, who retreated in 
 confusion. At the battle of Dresden the famous gen- 
 eral Moreau, the victor of Hohenlinden, received his 
 death-wound. Banished from France on suspicion of 
 conspiring against Napoleon, who had alienated him 
 by jealousy and unkindness, he had been persuaded 
 to join the Allies, and perished in his first battle 
 against the soldiers of his native land. 
 
 We now come to the deadliest struggle of modern 
 times, " the battle of the nations," fought at Leipsic. 
 For three days rivers of blood were soured out; Rus- 
 sian, Austrian, Prussian, Swedish troops succeeded 
 each other in almost countless numbers; the armies 
 
RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN. ELBA. 361 
 
 of Saxony and Wurtemburg, which had enlisted under 
 French banners, deserted to the enemy; Napoleon 
 had no fresh levies to draw upon, while the allies were 
 constantly reinforced, and on the morning of the 
 fourth day he ordered a retreat. It is estimated that 
 the number of troops engaged on both sides during 
 these bloody days amounted to nearly four hundred 
 thousand. The gallant Polish warrior, Poniatowski, 
 whom the Emperor had recently made a marshal of 
 France, died by drowning during the retreat. 
 
 The retreat was a scene of wretched disorder. 
 Great numbers of the troops perished from privation, 
 and though Napoleon managed to win a battle on 
 the way to Paris, his army was in a shattered condi- 
 tion. Whenever he was not present, fortune seemed 
 to desert the French standard. Tidings reached him 
 from every quarter of surrendered garrisons, lost 
 battles, forsaken conquests. The Confederation of 
 the Rhine melted away. Hanover returned to Eng- 
 land, Westphalia to Prussia, Holland to its lawful 
 rulers; and the j'^ear which witnessed the battle of 
 Leipsic and all these consequent disasters, also saw 
 Joseph Bonaparte driven out of Spain, and the Duke 
 of Wellington advancing on French soil as far as to 
 the gates of Bayonne. 
 
 Napoleon was now forced to make a- candid state- 
 ment of his situation to the Senate and to ask for a 
 fresh levy of men, which was granted; but where 
 were the men to come from? The nation had been 
 drained of them. He complained bitterly that they 
 furnished him only boys, — " food for powder," he 
 said, " fit to encumber the hospitals and die by the 
 
E62 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 roadside," — instead of vigorous troops. With their 
 utmost exertions little more than an army of a hun- 
 dred thousand men could be raised, while the allies 
 proceeded to invade France itself, by three different 
 roads, with not less than two hundred thousand. 
 
 It was now no longer a strife for conquest; it was a 
 struggle for existence. On quitting the Tuileries to 
 take the field, Napoleon confided to the National 
 Guard his wife and infant son, " all that was dearest to 
 him in the world," he told them. Maria Louisa was 
 named Regent, with Joseph Bonaparte, the ex-king of 
 Spain, as her chief counsellor. The Allies proclaimed 
 to the world that they fought, not against France, but 
 against Napoleon. The stupendous military genius of 
 the great conqueror never appeared greater than 
 now with all the world in arras against him. His 
 ceaseless activity, his wonderful plans and combina- 
 tions, his forced marches so rapid as to seem almost 
 impossible, continually surprising the enemy, all spoke 
 the mighty genius — but his star was waning. The 
 allied armies marched on Paris while he was defend- 
 ing the frontiers, and after a heroic defence by Mar- 
 shal Marmont the capital was forced to surrender. To 
 have held out longer would have been only a willful 
 sacrifice of life. The French troops were permitted to 
 retire, and the Allies entered Paris in triumph amidst 
 the silent wonder of the inhabitants, who had been 
 deceived as to their real numbers. The people of 
 Paris, always fickle and now thoroughly tired of Napo- 
 leon's rule, shouted their hurrahs for the emperor of 
 Russia, for the king of Prussia, for Louis the Eigh- 
 teenth ; and the Senate proclaimed that Napoleon 
 
BUSS IAN CAMPAIGN. ELBA. 363 
 
 Bonaparte, having violated the laws of France and 
 the rights and liberties of the people, had forfeited the 
 throne, and that the French nation and the army were 
 released .from their engagements to him. Maria 
 Louisa and the young King of Rome had retired from 
 the city before the fighting began. 
 
 Napoleon, hastening back as soon as he knew the 
 enemy's movements, had advanced to within ten miles 
 of Paris before he heard the news of the capitulation. 
 It was a complete surprise to him, and at first he 
 insisted on pressing on to the capital, feeling certain 
 that his presence alone would turn the tide in his favor; 
 but yielding to the advice of his friends he went to 
 Fontainebleau, and thereafter a few days' delay signed 
 an act of abdication by which he renounced for himself 
 and his heirs all rights to the thrones of France and 
 Italy. Ho took a most pathetic leave of his " Old 
 Guard " in the court at Fontainebleau, (April 20th, 
 1814), and then set out with an escort provided by the 
 Allies, for the island of Elba, which had been assigned 
 as his residence. 
 
 Maria Louisa retired with her son to Vienna, where 
 she could be under her father's protection. The 
 Empress Josephine lived but a short time after Napo- 
 leon's abdication, dying at Malmaison within six weeks 
 after his departure. She was deeply lamented by the 
 poor, to whom she had always been a kind friend; and 
 her husband cherished her memory to his latest hour 
 with probably the tenderest affection of which his 
 self-centered soul was capable. 
 
 On the same day that Napoleon quitted Fontaine- 
 bleau, Louis the Eighteenth, (brother, as will be re- 
 
364 BISTORT OF FRANCE, 
 
 membered, of Louis the Sixteenth, and uncle of the 
 poor boy who was a victim to the Reign of Terror, 
 and who would have become Louis the Seventeenth had 
 he lived), set out from his country-house in England to 
 take possession of the vacant throne of France. He 
 was received by the Royalists with wild enthusiasm, 
 but the mass of the people looked on in silence, 
 scarcely knowing what to make of this sudden change 
 of rulers. 
 
 By the side of Louis as he rode through the streets 
 sat his niece, Maria Theresa, the Duchess of Angou- 
 leme, daughter of Louis the Sixteenth, who had shared 
 her mother's imprisonment in the Temple, and had 
 seen all her family, one after another, fall victims to 
 the fury of the Revolution. Louis had promised to 
 support a liberal constitution, not unlike that of 
 Great Britain, and he no doubt intended, according to 
 his understanding of the term, to rule well; but he 
 was dull and self-indulgent, and quite willing to give 
 the government into the hands of his brother, the 
 Count d'Artois, a restless, intriguing person, who had 
 the true Bourbon hatred of liberty, and tried to act as 
 if there had been no Revolution. 
 
 All the king's proclamations were dated in the nine- 
 teenth year of his reign, as if everything that had hap- 
 pened sin ce the death of poor little Louis the Seven- 
 teenth, — the Directory, the Consulate, the Empire 
 — were quite unworthy to be mentioned. The king ap- 
 peared to forget that a great change had come over 
 thie state of the people's minds since the days of his 
 grandfather, Louis the Fifteenth, and still closed his 
 decrees with the words " for such is our good pleasure," 
 
BUSSIAN CAMPAIGN. ELBA. 365 
 
 and let hi^ subjects know very plainly that he consid- 
 ered himself king by Divine Right and not by their 
 will. Officers who had seen bloody service under 
 Napoleon were displaced to make room for those who 
 had never drawn sword for their country. Returned 
 emigrants clamored for the restitution of their estates, 
 and could not understand that the old order of things 
 had been done away with. They, like the king and 
 his brother, wanted to replace everything as it was in 
 the year 1789. 
 
 A treaty of peace was signed with the Allies, by 
 which France was shorn of most of her Napoleonic 
 conquests. Malta was given up to Great Britain, and 
 Belgium and Holland were united under a native 
 prince, who was to be called King of the Netherlands. 
 A congress met afterwards at Vienna to discuss matters 
 of general European interest, and it seemed as if a 
 permanent peace would be the result of their negotia- 
 tions, when they were suddenly aroused, in the begin- 
 ning of March, 1815, by the news that Napoleon had 
 escaped from Elba and landed in France, just about 
 ten months after he had consented to leave it forever. 
 When the excitement caused by such a thrill of sur- 
 prise had subsided, the allied powers instantly agreed 
 that Napoleon, having violated his plighted word and 
 reappeared in France as a disturber of the peace of 
 the world, must be considered as a public enemy; and 
 three great armies, composed mainly of Russian, 
 Austrian, Prussian and English troops, were set in 
 motion without delay. 
 
366 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE HUNDRED DAYS TO THE REVOLUTION OP JULY, 
 
 1815-1830. 
 
 AVING collected an army of about a thou- 
 sand men, the late Emperor of France landed 
 on the French coast without opposition, and 
 marched northward through a population seemingly- 
 indifferent to his motions. Near Grenoble he found 
 an armed force sent to oppose him under command of 
 General Labeboyere. Leaving his own troops at a 
 distance he walked up alone in front of the enemy, 
 wearing the old gray great coat and the little cocked 
 hat which all knew so well, and said in a loud voice, 
 " Soldiers, if there is one among you who wishes to 
 kill his general, he can do so; here 1 am!" With 
 wild shouts of welcome the soldiers threw down their 
 arms and joined him; their general followed their 
 example, and from this time his march to Paris was a 
 continued triumph. Marshal Ney, whom Napoleon 
 had called " the bravest of the brave," had taken ser- 
 vice under Louis, and being sent out to oppose his old 
 general, boasted that he would " bring back the Cor- 
 sican in an iron cage." But the sight of Napoleon 
 re-awakened his old affection; he forgot his ncAvly 
 taken oath, and went over to the Emperor with all his 
 soldiers. In this way the army proceeded to Paris, 
 growing as it went, and Louis the Eighteenth and his 
 family sought refuge in the Netherlands. 
 
- TO THE REVOLUTION OF JULY, 1815-1830. 367 
 
 The reception of Napoleon in the capitol was one 
 of delirious rejoicings. People forgot his oppression, 
 his cruel wars, his boundless ambition, and only re- 
 membered how they hated the Bourbons. At the 
 Tuileries he was literally carried np the grand stair- 
 way in the arms of his adoring followers. He now 
 labored night and day to raise an army to meet the in- 
 vaders, and had he been allowed three months' time, 
 it is probable that he might have brought hundreds 
 of thousands of men into the field. But the near 
 approach of the Allies decided him to attack them 
 before they could all get together, so he collected 
 what forces he could at once reach, and marched with 
 a hundred and fifteen thousand men into Belgium, 
 called " the battle-ground of Europe," from the many 
 bloody contests which have taken place on its soil. 
 There he found the EnMish under Welling^ton and the 
 Prussians under Blucher in far greater numbers, with 
 whom he fought the battles of Ligny, Quatre Bras and 
 Waterloo, which ended his career as a soldier. 
 
 There has been written more about the battle of 
 Waterloo than about any other battle of ancient or 
 modern times. The forces on each side were only about 
 75,000 men, (until the arrival of some 30,000 Prussians 
 near the close of the day), which is not one-third of 
 the numbers that have fou2:ht in other battles; but it 
 was the last struggle of the greatest soldier known to 
 history; it was the turning point in the annals of 
 France and of Europe; it was furiously fought, every 
 man on both sides being engaged, and the losses 
 were terrible; the victory was decisive and the de- 
 feat overwhelming and irretrievable — so it is very 
 
368 HISTORY OF FRANCE 
 
 generally thought the most important battle of the 
 world. 
 
 Napoleon's own estimate of men is said to have 
 been " one Frenchman equals one Englishman, and 
 each is equal to two men of any other nationality." 
 It had strangely happened that he had never met the 
 -English in the field since the siege of Toulon in his 
 early years, the campaigns in Spain and Portugal 
 having been carried on by his subordinates. The 
 English had, on the 16th of June, a rather severe 
 engagement at Quatre Bras with the French under 
 Ney, and had fallen back on the 17th to the rear of a 
 valley with gentle slopes near the village of Waterloo; 
 where they took a position on one crest of the slope, 
 having the valley and the opposite slope in their front, 
 .and a forest in their rear through which led the road 
 to the great city of Brussels, only a few miles away. 
 Twelve miles off on their left was the Prussian army, 
 under Blucher, on which Wellington depended to give 
 him a superiority in numbers. 
 
 The French, during the day and night of the 17th, 
 had come up, following the English, and had taken 
 their position on the opposite slope. There was a ter- 
 rible storm of rain on the night of the 17th, which 
 affected the French much more than the English, as 
 the latter had got into position before it began, while 
 the French were laboring through it all night, without 
 sleep or rest. 
 
 At about noon on June 18th the French are ready 
 to attack, each army being ranged on its own hill-top 
 in a " line of battle" about one-and-a-half miles lono-, 
 and the battle begins. Not less than 500 cannon 
 
TO THE BEVOLUTION OF JULY, ISlh-lS^O. 069 
 
 pour their shot and shell across the narrow valley. 
 Napoleon knows that his whole future depends on his 
 routing the enemy before the Prussians can arrive, so 
 he sends his troops, veterans of a hundred battles, in 
 charge after charge of desperate courage against the 
 stern, immovable lines and squares of the English. 
 Not a foot can the assailants srain which is not at once 
 taken back from them. For five dreadful hours does 
 this carnage continue, until the Duke of Wellington 
 is observed to be looking anxiously at his watch and 
 scanninof throuirh his orlass the direction throuo-h which 
 the Prussians are expected. He is reported to have 
 said aloud: " Oh for nijrht or Blucher! " 
 
 At last the Prussians come. Near five o'clock a 
 long dark line is visible far away to the left, and a few 
 cannon shots are heard. Napoleon sees and hears 
 them too. Then massing his " Old Guard," which has 
 been held in reserve for just such a supreme moment, 
 he orders them to charge, himself riding down the 
 road where they pass, to let them see him once more 
 and feel again the inspiration of his presence — and 
 they are gone. In two great columns they march for- 
 ward with shouts of defiance. 
 
 It is their last dying effort. The Engb'sh pour in a 
 crushing fire of musketry and artillery, and the ad- 
 vancing columns wither away — falter — fall into con- 
 fusion — halt — finallv retreat in disorder — and the 
 great drama of Napoleon Bonaparte's career comes to 
 an end. His "Star of Destiny" has set in blood. 
 
 The Eno-lish at once advance from all sides, across 
 the valley; but the pursuit is left to the fresher troops 
 under Blucher, who give the French no rest until the 
 24 
 
370 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 whole force is killed, wounded, made prisoners or 
 dispersed. More than 150 cannon are taken by the 
 English, and an equal number by the Prussians, with 
 munitions of war and prisoners innumerable. 
 
 Napoleon witnessed with dismay the flight of the 
 Old Guard. "All is lost!" he exclaimed, and putting 
 spurs to his horse rode away from the field at full 
 gallop. He was the first to carry the news of his own 
 defeat to the capital, leaving Marshal Soult to bring 
 together, if possible, the scattered fragments of his 
 army. 
 
 AVhen it was known in Paris that he had lost a 
 great battle and had returned alone to Paris, the 
 funds, which he used to call "the thermometer of 
 public opinion," strange to, say, rose at once. The 
 feeling was inevitable that tranquility could be restored 
 only by his downfall. " I see but one man between 
 us and peace," said Lafayette addressing the Legisla- 
 tive Chamber. These latter signified to Napoleon 
 that there was no alternative but abdication. The ex- 
 emperor, after a declaration that he offered himself as 
 a sacrifice to the enemies of France, and that he 
 abdicated in favor of his son, went to Rochefort on 
 the coast, meaning there to embark for the United 
 States. But the British were on the watch and refused 
 to let him pass. He then Avent voluntarily on board 
 the English ship Bellerophon, saying that he had come 
 to throw himself upon the hospitality of the British 
 joeople, and claim the protection of their laws. 
 
 The British government, not thinking it safe to leave 
 him at liberty after his breach of faith in Gsca|:^ing 
 from Elba and again plunging Europe in a sea of 
 
TO THE REVOLUTION OF JULY, 1815-1830. 371 
 
 blood, sent him as a prisoner of war to the lonely 
 island of St. Helena, where he wore out six years of 
 life in a vain struggle against the harshness and sever- 
 ity of his jailers, who did not treat him with the mag- 
 nanimity which, when they had him completely in 
 their power, they might safely have exercised. He 
 died in 1821, and his son, the so-called King of Rome, 
 continued to live in great seclusion at Vienna until 
 his death in 1832. 
 
 A second time were the Bourbons forced upon the 
 French people by foreign bayonets, and this time the 
 conditions were hard indeed. France was sentenced 
 to pay an enormous sum to the allies for the expenses 
 of the war, to keep in pay for five years an army of a 
 hundred and fifty thousand foreigners on her borders, 
 and to give up a considerable territory on the eastern 
 frontier. She was also required to restore all the works 
 of art taken by Napoleon from conquered cities, which, 
 though an act of simple justice, was felt as a severe 
 humiliation. Having been so long accustomed to look 
 upon the spoils of Rome, of Florence, of Vienna and 
 Dresden as their own, they took pride in them as 
 national possessions and bitterly resented their re- 
 moval. 
 
 Marshal Ney and General Lab^doyere, who had de- 
 serted to Napoleon with the troops under their charge, 
 were tried and shot for treason. Murat, the brother- 
 in-law of the Emperor, perished in a senseless attempt 
 to recover the kingdom of Naples, of which the lawful 
 sovereign had again taken possession. He landed 
 there with about thirty followers, was taken, tried by 
 a court-martial and shot. The brothers of Napoleon 
 
372 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 and many of his generals retired to private stations, 
 and after some popular tumults, affairs in France be- 
 came tranquil, and remained so until the death of 
 Louis the Eighteenth, which occurred in ,1824. He 
 left no children, and his brother, the Count d'Artois, 
 succeeded to the throne under the name of Charles 
 the Tenth. 
 
 It has been said of the Bourbons that " they never 
 learned anything and never forgot anj'thing." The 
 new king proved no exception. He carried matters 
 with a high hand, announced the old doctrine of gov- 
 ernment by absolute right, and resisted to the extent 
 of his power all the efforts of the liberal party, which 
 was becoming year by year stronger in France, to force 
 him to rule according to the constitution. One of the 
 last public acts of Louis the Eighteenth had been to 
 help the Bourbon sovereigns of Spain and Naples to 
 put down the rebellions which their atrocious tyranny 
 had called forth; and his brother seemed determined 
 to carry out in France the principles which had 
 triumphed in these countries. 
 
 Little of outside interest occurred in this reign. 
 After helping the Greeks in their successful struggle 
 against the Turks, who were finally overthrown in 
 1827 at the battle of Navarino, a squadron was sent to 
 Algiers to demand reparation for injuries done to the 
 French consul and others in that city. A battle was 
 fought in which the Algerines were defeated by Mar- 
 shal Bourmont, and the Dey abandoned his country, 
 which has since remained a province of France under 
 the name of Algeria. 
 
 It was hoped by the home government that this 
 
TO THE REVOLUTION OF JULY, 1815-1830. 373 
 
 brilliant conquest would calm the excitement which 
 filled the country at the despotic measures of Charles 
 the Tenth, but the irritation continued to increase and 
 was fed by the obstinacy of the king, who defied the 
 wishes of the people by arbitrary enactments which 
 constantly widened the breach between them. When 
 remonstrated with he would say, " Louis the Sixteenth 
 lost his throne by concessions. He was led to the scaf- 
 fold for having yielded." Accordingly, Charles would 
 yield nothing, but on the contrarx^^, dismissed the 
 Cabinet officers who were poi3ular with the people, and 
 appointed others known only for their blind devotion to 
 the old system. As if to leave nothing undone which 
 could insure the loss of his crown, he issued decrees 
 suppressing the liberty of the press, dissolving the 
 newly elected legislature before it had met, and mak- 
 ing arbitrary changes in the system of election, with 
 a view to bringing the nation more completely into 
 subjection. A revolt which turned out to be a revolu- 
 tion was the immediate consequence of these suicidal 
 actions. In the "three days of July," 1830, the 
 people once more arose against the exercise of illegal 
 power. Barricades were erected in the streets; the 
 tri-colored flag was displayed on the public buildings; 
 " the population was transformed into an army and 
 every house became a fortress." The venerable La 
 Fayette was called from his retirement to take com- 
 mand of the National Guard. Marshal Marraont, the 
 commander of the royal forces, had urged the king to 
 pacify the people by yielding while there was yet time, 
 but received no answer except an order to suppress the 
 rebellion by force of arms. The soldiers, obliged to 
 
374 HISTORF OF FRANCE. 
 
 fight in narrow streets, were almost at the mercy of 
 the populace, who shot at them from windows, walls 
 and housetops, and finally compelled them to retreat. 
 The mob then broke into the Tuileries palace and 
 sacked it. The costly furniture was hacked to pieces 
 and thrown into the Seine, and the victory was cele- 
 brated with frantic demonstrations of joy. The king 
 now offered to make concessions, but it was too late. 
 Nothinor was left for him but flight. 
 
 The memorable " three days " were the 27th, 28th, 
 and 29th of July, and within two days afterward Charles 
 removed from his palace of St. Cloud and prepared to 
 leave the country. He now hoped that though he re- 
 nounced the crown for himself it might still be worn 
 by a member of his family. The people of France, 
 however, preferred to pass over the elder branch of the 
 Capetians, and offered the crown to Louis Philippe, 
 son of the too famous " Philippe Egalite " of the Revo- 
 lution. The offer was accepted, and Louis Philippe 
 ascended the throne as " King of the French " — not 
 king of France, which would have implied rather a 
 hereditary right, than a choice by the people. The 
 Duke of Bordeaux, grandson of Charles the Tenth, 
 is still (1878) living in Europe under the title of 
 Comte de Chambord, and would, if restored to the 
 throne, be called Henry the Fifth. 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE. 375 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX, 
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE. — 1830-]848. 
 
 HE career of the King* of the French had 
 been as varied as that of a hero of romance. 
 Born in a palace, he began at the age of 
 twenty years a life of exile which endured for as 
 many more, and was often hard pressed to find means 
 to buy the necessaries of life. In Switzerland he 
 taught a village school; in the United States he gave 
 lessons in the French language, preserving his self- 
 respect by providing for his own needs. 
 
 When at the restoration of the Bourbons the wan- 
 derer returned to France, he found himself possessed 
 of a princely fortune, but looked upon coldly by his 
 royal relatives for the very reason which afterwards 
 made his restoration under the name of " citizen - 
 king" so popular with the masses; he had fought 
 bravely under Kellerman and Dumouriez against the 
 enemies of the Republic, and steadily refused to join 
 the army of emigrants collected for the invasion of 
 France. When, therefore, he told his people that the 
 charter would now be a reality, a constitutional mon- 
 archy, — that golden mean between despotism and 
 anarchy, — seemed to have been reached. " Here," said 
 La Fayette as he presented him to the people, " is 
 the best of republics." How far such hopes were 
 realized will appear later in our history. 
 
 Peace with foreign nations was the policy of the 
 
378 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 new government, and was faithfully adhered to as far 
 as possible. The inhabitants of Belgium, which had 
 in 1815 been annexed to Holland, threw oif their al- 
 legiance to the latter country and offered the crown to 
 a son of Louis Philippe; but the king with great good 
 sense declined the tempting bait, knowing that to 
 swallow it would bring on a European war. Prince 
 Leopold of Saxe Coburg was chosen, and, marrying 
 the eldest daughter of the King of the French, joined 
 the two countries in a union of interest. Louis Phil- 
 ippe was an excellent man of business, clear-headed, 
 calculating, economical; his private character was un- 
 blemished and his intentions undoubtedly good; but he 
 was tinged with the prevailing vice of the Bourbons, 
 a love of power, which developed itself more strongly 
 as he grew older. No doubt he had a difficult position 
 to maintain. On the one hand were the Republicans, 
 disapproving of a king of any kind; on the other the 
 Legitimists, who wished to place on the throne the 
 grandson of Charles the Tenth rather than the remote 
 cousin who must go back to Louis the Thirteenth for 
 his claim. A third class, which should not be con^ 
 founded with those who were Republicans on principle, 
 was composed of the idle and vicious of all ranks, who 
 clamored for "Liberty, Equality and Fraternity," with 
 very little idea of the meaning of their demands ex- 
 cept the general notion that the rich ought to be made, 
 somehow or other, to support the f)oor. 
 
 With so many contradictory elements, it is not 
 strange that disturbances arose in various parts of the 
 country, which, being put down by force, made the 
 king very unpopular. No fewer than seven attempts 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE. 377 
 
 against his life were made in the course of a few 
 years. The principal one among these was the work 
 of an Italian named Fieschi, who contrived an " infer- 
 nal machine" which was to blow up Louis Philippe as 
 he was riding in a procession to commemorate the 
 Revolution of July. The king was not hurt, but 
 many persons were killed or wounded. Among those 
 killed was Marshal Mortier, one of Napoleon's old 
 generals. 
 
 In the year following this attempt (1836) Louis 
 Napoleon Bonaparte, son of the Emperor's brother 
 Louis and of Hortense de Beauharnais, suddenly ap- 
 peared at Strasburg dressed in the costume of an officer 
 of artillery, and called upon the garrison to join him in 
 an attempt to gain his uncle's throne. Some enthusiasm 
 was shown, but the troops remained true to their colors, 
 and M. Bonaparte was arrested. The king, however, 
 declined to prosecute him, and he came to this country, 
 where he spent some years in the neighborhood of New 
 York. In 1840 he again attempted to overturn the 
 government of Louis Philippe, carrying with him into 
 France a tame eagle, which was expected to make a 
 sort of rallying-point for the disaffected. But the 
 eagle proved less attractive than had been expected, 
 and was confiscated for the Zoological gardens, while 
 its owner was arrested and imprisoned in the chateau 
 of Ham. There he remained for six years, and then 
 made his escape disguised as a workman, taking refuge 
 in England, to re-appear before long in France under 
 another character. 
 
 During the first ten years of Louis Philippe's reign, 
 France was at peace with all the outside world except 
 
37S HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the uuconqusred tribes of Algeria. In 1840 the 
 British government consented to the removal of the 
 remains of Napoleon from St. Helena to Paris, in ac- 
 cordance with one of the last wishes expressed by him. 
 Three of the faithful friends who had shared his exile 
 were present at the disinterment, and found the features 
 still perfect after nineteen years. The arrival of the 
 funeral cortege in Paris and the re-interment of the 
 coffin in the vault of the Hotel des Invalides was a 
 scene never to be forgotten. 
 
 Notwithstanding this act of courtesy on the part of 
 England, she still kept a jealous eye on the movements 
 of France, and stood ready to resist any attempt at 
 aggression. She did not like the occupation by the 
 French of the Society Islands in the Pacific, nor the 
 marriage of the Duke of Montpensier, one of Louis 
 Philippe's sons, with the sister of the queen of Spain, 
 thus rendering possible once more the union of the 
 two crowns in one person, and she was anxious lest 
 the Algerian conquest should extend far enough to 
 threaten Gibraltar; but no actual hostilities resulted 
 from this displeasure. The king, however, took advan- 
 tage of the circumstance to surround Paris with exten- 
 sive fortifications, which caused loud murmurs amona: 
 the people, who feared that this might be made a means 
 of interfering with their liberties. 
 
 The death in 1842 of the Duke of Orleans, oldest 
 son of Louis Philippe, who was killed by being 
 thrown from his carriage, was a source of deep grief 
 to the French nation, as well as to his family, as he 
 was a man of admirable qualities. He left two sons, 
 the Comte de Paris, now the representative of the 
 
 ..A 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE. 379 
 
 royal family of Bourbon -Orleans, and the Duke de 
 Chartres. Both these princes came to America and 
 helped the Union cause in the great Rebellion, and 
 the Comte de Paris has since written an excellent his- 
 tory of the struggle, a fact which speaks well for the 
 practical ability of this scion of a royal race. 
 
 In Algeria, a protracted strife between the native 
 tribes and the conquerors had been going on since 
 the first occupation of the country by the French, and 
 many of the best troops of France were sacrificed to 
 the unhealthy climate and in the bloody combatF. 
 The Arab chieftain, Abdel-Kader, a man whose mili- 
 tary genius and indomitable courage would have made 
 him rank high among the warriors of any nation, held 
 out with the greatest obstinacy, but was at last taken 
 prisoner and carried to France, where he was kept in 
 confinement for six years. The Algerine war is com- 
 puted to have cost France, up to the time of his cap- 
 ture in 1847, a thousand millions of francs, and the 
 lives of three hundred thousand men. 
 
 Many causes of discontent had arisen during the 
 reign of Louis Phillippe, which were artfully increased 
 by a class of agitators called Socialists, who had noth- 
 ing to lose and everything to gain by disorder and 
 civil strife. A failure in the harvest raised the price 
 of provisions, and the same cause made work scarce 
 and w^aj^es low. All this was laid to the account of 
 the government, and as some arbitrary measures gave 
 just offence to the people, the demand for " Reform " 
 was made to cover the whole ground, and the censor- 
 ship of the press ingeniously manipulated so as to be 
 held responsible for the bad crops. 
 
380 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 The agitators held a series of " Reform banquets " 
 in the different cities, and one was appointed to take 
 place in Paris on the 22d of February, 1848. This 
 was forbidden by the authorities, upon v^'hich a popu- 
 lar tumult arose, in which the King and his ministers 
 showed so little firmness or good sense that the end 
 was an entire overthrow of the government. Though 
 Louis Philippe had the best minds in the kingdom to 
 assist him, such men as Thiers and Guizot forming 
 part of his council, no one among them had the ability 
 to conquer a revolution. The National Guard, seeing 
 the vacillation of their rulers, sided with the rioters; 
 the king fled after vainly trying to secure the crown 
 to his grandson the Comte de Paris, and a republic 
 was proclaimed amid general confusion. Louis Phil- 
 ippe, with his family, went to England, where he died 
 two years afterward. 
 
 For some days it seemed uncertain whether the new 
 Revolution would not repeat the scenes of 1789. 
 Paris was ruled by an armed mob, who clamored for 
 immediate relief of their needs, but opposed every 
 movement which proposed to establish a settled gov- 
 ernment. M. de Lamartine, a celebrated French 
 author, was placed temporarily at the head of affairs, 
 and showed sfreat wisdom and firmness. 
 
 Among the measures insisted on by the populace 
 was the establishment of national workshops, where the 
 idle poor could find employment. After a little trial 
 this experiment was shown to be ruinous to the State, 
 and useless for the workmen, who squandered in dissi- 
 pation the money thus paid them; but as was to be 
 expected, the attempt to discontinue them was 
 
LOUIS PHILIPPE. 381 
 
 attended with frinbtful carnaije. Barricades were 
 raised instantly in the streets, and before order could 
 be restored, thousands of lives had been sacrificed. 
 General Cavaiornac was made military dictator, and 
 put down the riots with a decision which, had it been 
 displayed by the Royalists at the first outbreak, would 
 have left the kino; on his throne. Amono: the victims 
 of this sanguinary contest was the venerable Arch- 
 bishop of Paris, who lost his life by a random shot 
 while he was trying to mediate between the soldiers 
 and the mob. 
 
 The republic being established, a president was to 
 be chosen. There were two candidates — General 
 Cavaignac, who had saved the city, and Louis Napo- 
 leon Bonaparte, the hero of Strasburg and Ham. The 
 magic of a name decided the fickle public in favor of 
 the latter; he was elected for a term of four years by 
 an immense majority, and entered upon the duties of 
 his office in December, 1848. 
 
 1848 has been called " The year of Revolutions." 
 The disturbances in France sent an electric thrill over 
 the continent, almost every country not governed by 
 an autocrat feeling it more or less. In Italy, espe- 
 cially, there were convulsive eflforts to throw off 
 the Austrian dominion in the north, and the Pope was 
 so much alarmed by the condition of afi*airs in Rome 
 that he fled from the city, and a republican govern- 
 ment was proclaimed there. General Garibaldi taking 
 command of the revolutionary troops. Pius the Ninth 
 now called upon France to interpose in his behalf, and 
 by the help of French bayonets the insurrection was 
 quelled and the pontiff" replaced on his throne. 
 
382 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 It soon became evident to the world at larjre that the 
 nephew of Napoleon the First was preparing to re- 
 enact some scenes of the great drama played by his 
 distinguished uncle. On the second of December, 
 1851, one of those coups d'etat took place for which 
 France has become so famous. It was much like the 
 Revolution of the 18th Brumaire. The President of 
 the French Republic in one night overthrew the gov- 
 ernment, dissolving the Assembly by his own decree 
 and appointing a ministry responsible only to him- 
 self. Soldiers were at hand to quell every disturbance; 
 as soon as possible the people vfere appealed to, and 
 the votes of an enormous majority of them elected 
 Louis Napoleon Bonaparte President for ten years 
 with the powers of a dictator. Parliamentary govern- 
 ment had not worked well in France. It had produced 
 only civil commotion and a restless, ever-varying 
 policy which is in some respects harder to live under 
 than a despotism. The French people were so tired 
 of it that they saw the change almost with indifference, 
 and were, as a whole, neither very much surprised nor 
 affected when in a year after the first coup d'etat the 
 President was proclaimed Emperor of France under 
 the name of Napoleon the Third, the shadowy form 
 of the little King of Rome, which faded out of French 
 history with his father's defeat at WaterloOj doing 
 duty as Napoleon the Second. 
 
THE SECOND EMPIRE. 383 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE SECOND EMPIRE. 1852-1870. 
 
 FAVORITE saying of the new Emperor was 
 •' the Empire is Peace," and for the first few 
 years of his reign his subjects acknowledged 
 with gratitude that to them his rule meant not only peace 
 but prosperity. There had been an element of the 
 ridiculous in his first attempts to occupy the place of 
 the great Napoleon, but once seated in that place, his 
 talent for governing could not be questioned. Grand 
 public improvements, perfect security, ever-increasing 
 wealth, in spite of the taxes necessary to support an 
 army supposed to be the finest in Europe, and a navy 
 only excelled by that of England, — all these made the 
 mass of the population thoroughly contented, and no 
 more secret grumbling went on than is inevitable even 
 in the best of governments. 
 
 In 1853 Napoleon married Eugenie de Montijo, a 
 Spanish lady of great beauty and noble family. For 
 years she and her court set the fashions for all the 
 world. Their only child, a son, was born in 1856. 
 
 The first war undertaken by Napoleon was an attempt 
 to preserve the " balance of power '* in which the great 
 nations of Europe imagined their own safety to con- 
 sist. Here a strange scene becomes visible. We 
 have been looking at a thousand years' history of 
 France, always with a side-glance at England, her 
 great Island neighbor and hereditary foe, and behold, 
 
384 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 for almost the first time we see them as allies, fighting 
 side by side against a common enemy. Russia had, for 
 centuries, looked upon Constantinople with covetous 
 eyes, and in 1854 she seemed about to crush Turkey to 
 seize the great prize. But England, for the sake of her 
 interests in India, and France, perhaps with the hope 
 of regaining the political position lost by the treaties 
 of 1815, thought it proper to defend the Sultan. The 
 king of Sardinia joined them on general principles, 
 desirinof to have his little state recoo-nized as a member 
 of the grea,t European family — (it has since grown 
 into the kingdom of Italy) — and the three powers 
 united with the Turks in an attack on the great Rus- 
 sian naval station of Sebastopol, the chief city in the 
 Crimea. On the way there the battle of the Alma 
 was fought and won by the Allies, and then the place 
 was besieo-ed in due form. 
 
 This siege of eleven months is the most famous in 
 history. All possible modern inventions of warfare 
 were employed on both sides. It was shown that 
 stone walls are not the best defence against great 
 artillery, avid that nothing but earthworks can be 
 relied upon. The whole Russian Black Sea fleet was 
 sunk in Sebastopol harbor to keep it from falling 
 into the enemy's hands. The losses on all sides were 
 grievous, and in modern times deaths in the field are 
 more severely felt than of old, on account of the rapid 
 spread of news by means of telegraphs and newspapers, 
 and the sympathy thus awakened with the individual 
 friends of those who die. Mourning was the fashion- 
 able wear in Paris, London and St. Petersburg. The 
 battle of Balaklava, otherwise unimportant, is made 
 
THE SECOND EMPIRE. 3<95 
 
 memorable by a useless onslaught, (made through 
 mistaken orders, by the choicest cavalry of the British 
 array), called " the charge of the Six Hundred," wherein 
 a very large number of the charging party were killed, 
 and desolation carried into almost every circle of the 
 upper classes in England. The chief battle of the war 
 waslnkermann, where the Russians attacked the allies 
 and were driven back with great loss, but no decisive 
 results. 
 
 Tlie largest proportion of the losses was caused by 
 disease and the exposure of troops poorly prepared for 
 a rigorous winter. A terrible outcry was raised at 
 home against this sacrifice of life, occurring where the 
 unstinted outlay of money ought to have guarded 
 against such things. But in this matter the French 
 were found to have a far better system than the 
 English; and after the war was over it was generally 
 acknowledged that the former had reaped much more 
 than the latter of the glory of military success. 
 
 In spite of opposition, obstacles, disease and slaugh- 
 ter, the. French and English pushed forward their earth- 
 works against the outlying forts of the Russians until 
 there were only a few yards of scored and scourged 
 ground between them; and then one fine day a few 
 picked regiments of the French army rushed across 
 this space and took by storm the chief Russian strong- 
 hold, the " MalakofT," in a bloody hand-to-hand fight, 
 and held it. This made the other works untenable, 
 and later the English seized the next strongest work, 
 the " Redan," and Sebastapol was theirs. 
 
 The city lay in ruins at the feet of the con- 
 querors, who blew up such forts and docks as the cannon 
 25 
 
886 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 had spared, and required of the Czar a promise not 
 to rebuild the defences. Russia's aggressions were 
 stopped for the time, and she was forbidden to have 
 ships of war on the Black Sea; but France gained little 
 benefit from this in comparison with her vast sacrifices. 
 
 Three years later,' Napoleon again interfered in be- 
 half of a brother soverei^-n. Victor Emanuel, kinjy of 
 Sardinia, who had helped in the war of the Crimea, 
 was invaded in his turn by Austria, and the French 
 Emperor marched at once to his assistance. The 
 names of Montebello, Magenta and Solferino recall to 
 the minds of those of us who have lived throug-h these 
 stirring events the victories by which the third Napo- 
 leon signalized his march in Italy. 
 
 At the Peace of Villafranca, which ended the 
 war, (1859,) Lombardy, which had been under Aus- 
 trian rule, was added to Sardinia on the east, while 
 *the provinces of Nice and Savoy on the west were 
 given up to France. The Emperor had not lent his 
 support for nothing. This result was not at all what 
 the Italians had expected when he promised them 
 that " Italy should be free from the Alps to the Adria- 
 tic," but fortunately for them they had those within 
 their own boundaries who could dispense with foreign 
 aid, and with Victor Emanuel II. for a king and 
 Garibaldi for a general, a united Italy is now the 
 result of their long struggle for unity and independ- 
 ence. 
 
 Yet once again did Napoleon find an excuse for in- 
 terfering in the affairs of other nations. In 1862 he 
 sent an expedition to Mexico, professedly to demand 
 redress for injuries suff'ered by French residents there. 
 
THi: SECOND EMPIRE. 387 
 
 Having after much flp^hting taken possession of the 
 capita], the French general in command obtained a 
 declaration from a part of the citizens that they desired 
 an empire and would welcome a foreign ruler. Under 
 the delusion that this was the feeling of the whole 
 country, the Archduke Maximilian, brother of the Em- 
 peror of Austria, accepted the invitation tendered him 
 to mount the throne of the Montezumas. A bitter 
 awakening was in store for him. The Republicans were 
 still the strongest party in Mexico; the French troops 
 which should have protected him were withdrawn 
 from the country, and the unfortunate young man, 
 deserted by those who had lured him on, fell a sacrifice 
 to the vengeance of the Mexicans and was shot as a 
 usurper in 1867. 
 
 To a superficial view France was now at the height 
 of prosperity, but the more acute observers saw under 
 this the tokens of decay. The enormous sums spent 
 by the Emperor on the improvement of Paris had 
 brought an increase of taxes which were felt to be 
 burdensome; his government was of the most arbi- 
 trary pattern ; the free expression of opinion was not 
 tolerated, and the garrison which had been kept in 
 Rome since 1849 to support the temporal power of the 
 Pope and keep out Victor Emanuel, offended many of ■ 
 the liberal party. Still, Napoleon might have ended 
 his days in his own capital but for his rushing, unpre- 
 pared, into a causeless war which ended by driving 
 him from his throne and his country. i 
 
 The student of history observes that for centu- 
 ries no nation had been able to make, single-handed, 
 much headway against France in arms; she had been 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 the chief military power of the world. But after 
 Waterloo, another began to come to the front. The 
 history of Prussia during the years following her 
 humiliations at the beginning of this century, shows 
 that for nations as for individuals, misfortune is a 
 good school. The government of Prussia was severe, 
 industrious, economical, intelligent; and in two wars, 
 the first against Denmark and the second against 
 Austria, she had consolidated under her rule the 
 greater part of the kingdoms, princedoms and duke- 
 doms of Germany. Doubtless one bond of union 
 among these diverse nationalities was a burning de- 
 sire to wipe out the stains of the insults heaped upon 
 all of them by the French under Napoleon. 
 
 No barn-yard can maintain two champions; neither 
 can a community of military nations. It became 
 more and more evident that France and Prussia, each 
 striving to outgrow the other in warlike power, must 
 at some near day find an excuse to come to blows. 
 The quarrel was begun by France on a pretext so 
 slisrht that one can but feel that so far as ao-o^ression 
 merits retribution, her speedy defeat was mere jus- 
 tice. Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern, a protege of 
 Prussia, chanced to be named for the succession to 
 the crown of Spain. France protested, and Leopold 
 withdrew; but when the French emperor demanded 
 of Prussia a promise never again to support a similar 
 claimant from any German State, King William very 
 naturally refused the pledge, and Napoleon at once 
 declared war. 
 
 The emperor and the French people honestly 
 thought that their army at this time was the most 
 
THE SECOND EMPIRE. 389 
 
 perfect in every way that could be conceived of by the 
 mind of man. No money had been spared on its 
 preparation. The Minister of War announced that all 
 was ready. It was popularly said in Paris that " not 
 so much as a shoe-buckle would be required for a year." 
 Very probably no shoe-buckles would be required, 
 as those are things an army can very well do without; 
 but everything an army can riot do without, was in 
 fact wofully deficient. Maps, for instance, which are 
 the first requisite for intelligent and rapid army move- 
 ments, were utterly wanting. Perhaps they had maps 
 of the roads in Germany, where they expected to do 
 their fighting; but it chanced unfortunately for them 
 that they had to fight in their own country, and of 
 France, the Germans had much better maps than they 
 had. The stores and supplies supposed to be on hand 
 either did not exist or were never available at the 
 time and place where they were wanted. 
 
 Lauo-hable stories are told of the absurdities of " red 
 tape " — complications of official system — in the French 
 War Department. It is said that a certain mass of 
 army wagons, taken to pieces and stored by thou- 
 sands in an enclosure, would take two years to unpack, 
 extricate, put together and set in motion. This is of 
 course an exao-jreration, but it illustrates the kind of 
 faults into which years of peace and of unwise admin- 
 istration had broujrht the once active French army. 
 
 Even the numbers counted on were not there. 
 But some 240,000 men were on hand, which was more 
 than could be used. This confused mass, miscalled an 
 army, was hurled rapidly toward the frontier of Ger- 
 many, hoping to find the enemy unprepared. But the 
 
390 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 German army was as perfectly ready for war when it 
 left its cantonments, as a machine is ready for work 
 when it leaves the workshop. For an army drilled 
 and exercised as the German army now is, a campaign 
 is merely a kind of excursion for putting in practice 
 the principles which have been studied through years 
 of schooling'. There is a storv that a Prussian officer, 
 after the war, said to his soldiers, " Now the pastime 
 of war is over, we will return to the serious business 
 of life, which is drilling." 
 
 The first collision was a skirmish which occurred at 
 Saarbrlick, which the French tried to magnify into a 
 victory. x\fter this followed a series of struggles 
 scarcely to be dignified with the name of battles, so 
 utterly powerless were the ill-ordered, badly officered, 
 disorganized, outgeneraled forces of France against 
 the fierce and steady Germans. W5rth, Gravelotte and 
 Sedan were the chief scenes of defeat. At Sedan the 
 French Emperor was taken prisoner, with his army 
 of eighty thousand men. The news of this roused 
 the excitable Parisians to fury, and the whole blame 
 of the reverses was thrown upon Napoleon. The 
 Empire was declared at an end as suddenly as it had 
 been called into existence; a republic, with General 
 Trochu at its head, was hastily proclaimed by a small 
 knot of politicians, and the Empress, who had been 
 left in Paris as Regent, was glad to get away safely 
 from the city. The Germans connived at the escape 
 of her husband after the victory of Sedan, and the 
 imperial family fled to England, where the Emperor 
 has since died, leaving a son, who, we may suppose, 
 hopes one day to rule France as Napoleon the Fourth. 
 
THE THIIiD REPUBLIC. 391 
 
 THE TIIIED RErUBLIC. 
 
 The main interest of the war was now centered in 
 the sieges of three strongly fortified towns — Strasburg, 
 Metz and Paris. Strasburg was taken after a short 
 but severe bombardment, which inflicted irreparable 
 'injury on the beautiful city, and Metz was given up a 
 few weeks later by Marshal Bazaine, with 173,000 
 men; but Paris, with its magnificent system of de- 
 fences, was enabled to stand a siege of more than 
 four months. Durino* this time much sufferino- was 
 sustained by the inhabitants, though it is doubtful 
 whether there were any deaths by actual starvation. 
 The beleao'uered Parisians communicated with the 
 outside world by means of balloons, which, rising from 
 inside the walls, sailed away high over the heads of 
 the Germans, and, though sometimes taken, more often 
 reached some friendly neighborhood safely. M. Gam- 
 betta, the minister of war, escaped in one of these, 
 and endeavored to reinforce the outside armies. 
 Trained carrier-pigeons flew back and forth, conveying 
 rolls of tissue-paper on which thousands of words 
 were photographed; but though these devices kept up 
 hopes of relief, they did not bring bread, and the city 
 at length surrendered to the besiegers. 
 
 King William of Prussia, who had been living in 
 the palace at Versailles during the siege, marched 
 with a part of his army under the Arc de Triomplie 
 and to the Place de La Concorde, in token of victory, 
 but did not remain in the city. Perfect order was 
 maintained by the Germans, and, as to the French, 
 they left the streets deserted and the houses closed, to 
 
392 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 indicate that though the city was conquered, the citi- 
 zens were still their own masters. The terms of peace 
 exacted by Prussia were not severe, considering the 
 magnitude of her successes. The principal condi- 
 tions were the cession of Alsace and a part of Lor- 
 raine, (both of which had once belonged to Germany), 
 and the payment of an indemnity amounting to about 
 a thousand millions of dollars. 
 
 As soon as the invadincr force had beg-un to with- 
 draw, the provisional government established itself at 
 Versailles, wisely declining to entrust itself to the 
 tender mercies of the turbulent Parisians. This cau- 
 tion, and other acts indicating a steady purpose of 
 maintaining law and order, so incensed the old revo- 
 lutionary spirit always seething in the lower classes of 
 Paris, that they rose against the republican authority, 
 defied it, shut the gates of the city against it and 
 established a government of their own called the 
 Commune, the success of which would probably have 
 produced excesses similar to those of the first Revolu- 
 tion and the Reio-n of Terror. 
 
 The Versailles government, with all the better 
 republicans of France on its side, now attacked the 
 Communists, and a second siege of Paris began, more 
 destructive than the first. Not that the Communists 
 made good fighters; they lacked the first requisites 
 of the true soldier, patience and obedience; but 
 though there may have been conscientious and 
 patriotic spirits among them, the most of the insurgents 
 were more fierce in speech than in action — less ready to 
 stand fire in fair fight than to set fire to their city when 
 they failed in the attempt to hold it against the lawful 
 
THE THIRD REPUBLIC. 393 
 
 government. When they found they could not either 
 beat the national troops or win them over to their own 
 extreme views, they poured petroleum into the finest 
 public buildings of Paris and laid them in ruins; 
 doing more damage to the beautiful capital of their own 
 country, than all it had suffered from a victorious 
 foreigner's taking it by siege. 
 
 After these disorders had been quelled, a stable 
 government was established, and M. Thiers was made 
 President of the French Republic for a term of years. 
 Before this had expired, the opposition to his govern- 
 ment forced him to resign, and Marshal Mac Mahon 
 was elected in his place, (1873). The government is 
 representative in its character, consisting of the Pres- 
 ident, a Cabinet of ministers and a Legislature, and 
 the country presents the curious anomaly of a 
 Republic in which aristocratic titles are maintained 
 as in the days of the Empire. 
 
 Various attempts have been made by partisans of 
 monarchy on the one hand and of military govern- 
 ment on the other, to change the existing order of 
 things; but to their credit be it said, the true Repub- 
 licans have thus far stood firm in their principles, and 
 have opposed a steady front to all attacks, showing 
 neither cowardice nor violence. They have proved 
 their title to command by their willingness to obey, and 
 the country under them has shown a rapidity of 
 recovery from the evils of war which is unexampled 
 in the world's history, except in our own favored 
 land. 
 
 As an illustration of the peace and prosperity in 
 which France now lives, may be mentioned the occur- 
 
394 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 rence in Paris of the latest and greatest of the series 
 of World's Fairs, those wonderful exhibitions of the 
 industry and art of all nations. This one has been 
 brilliantly successful; and just as the last pages of 
 this little history are penned, comes the announcement 
 of the close of the Paris Exposition of 1878. 
 
 Now we have followed the haps and mishaps during 
 a thousand years of a great nation — a loyal, brave, 
 devoted, generous people. Often we have seen them 
 obedient when they should have resisted, and some- 
 times resisting when they should have obeyed. When 
 they have borne and inflicted the most misery it has 
 been through the misdirection of some of the best 
 instincts of our nature — piety, loyalty, patriotism, 
 courage, love of liberty. But through it all, through 
 the dark days and through the bright, they have come 
 to what seems to us to be a state better on the whole 
 than any of the transitory conditions through which 
 they have passed. 
 
 Whatever may be the opinion of the wise as to the 
 permanency of the present order of things in France, 
 there can scarcely be much doubt but that while it 
 does endure it is the happiest in all her national expe- 
 rience. The present government is, in principle at 
 least, and to a great degree in practice, one " of the 
 people, by the people, for the people." The individual 
 Frenchman now has a very fair chance to pursue his 
 own happiness in his own way, only using his posses- 
 sions so as not to injure his neighbors. 
 
 Fortunately for her citizens, France has been 
 driven away from her bad eminence as the armed 
 arbiter of nations. Another now carries the hard and 
 
THE THIRD REPUBLIC. 395 
 
 heavy iron gauntlet which is best fitted to grasj) the 
 sword-hilt. Hers is the ungloved hand that is light, 
 strong and free to hold the plouf^h or the pen, or the 
 hand of a friend. "Glory," as the Avord has been 
 understood, she has turned her back upon. That 
 bleak and sterile height to which one man in a million 
 may climb over the crushed hopes of his fellows, has 
 little place in the plan of a free country. The only 
 dominion the French republic can properly strive for 
 is the dominion over the forces of nature, that the sum 
 of human happiness may be increased ; over igno- 
 rance, that error may be lessened ; then her honor 
 and glory will be real, because it will be the honor 
 and glory of God and humanity. 
 
/ 
 
LIST OF KINGS. 
 
 397 
 
 LIST OF KIH"GS. 
 
 MEROVINGIANS. 
 
 
 
 Clovis, 
 
 481- 
 
 - 511 
 
 Later Kings, .... 
 
 511- 
 
 - 752 
 
 CARLO VINGIANS. 
 
 
 
 Pepin (the Short), 
 
 752- 
 
 - 768 
 
 Charlemagne, .... 
 
 . 768- 
 
 - 814 
 
 Louis (the Good-natured), . 
 
 814 
 
 - 840 
 
 Charles I. (the Bald), . 
 
 . 840- 
 
 - 877 
 
 Louis II. (the Stammerer), . 
 
 877- 
 
 - 879 
 
 Louis III. and Carloman, 
 
 . 879- 
 
 - 884 
 
 Charles II. (the Fat), 
 
 884- 
 
 - 892 
 
 Charles III. (the Simple), 
 
 . 892- 
 
 - 936 
 
 Louis IV. (d'Outremer), 
 
 936- 
 
 - 954 
 
 LOTHAIRE, 
 
 . 954- 
 
 - 986 
 
 Louis V. (the Do-nothing), . 
 
 986- 
 
 - 987 
 
 CAPETIANS. 
 
 
 
 Hugh Capet, .... 
 
 987- 
 
 - 996 
 
 Robert (the Pious), 
 
 . 996- 
 
 -1031 
 
 Henry L, . . 
 
 1031- 
 
 -1060 
 
 Philip L, 
 
 . 1060- 
 
 -1108 
 
 Louis VI. (the Fat), . 
 
 1108- 
 
 -1137 
 
 Louis VIT. (the Young), 
 
 . 1137- 
 
 -1180 
 
 Philip II. (Augustus), 
 
 1180- 
 
 -1223 
 
 Louis VIII. (the Lion), 
 
 . 1223- 
 
 -1226 
 
 Louis IX. (Saint Louis), . 
 
 1226- 
 
 -1270 
 
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 
 
 Philip III. (the Bold), . 
 Philip IV. (the Fair), 
 Louis X. (the Quarreler), 
 Philip Y. (the Long), 
 Charles IV. (the Fair), 
 
 Philip VI. (of Valois)^ 
 John (the Good), . 
 Chaeles V. (the Wise), 
 Charles VL (the Well-beloved) 
 Charles VII. (the Victorious), 
 Louis XL, .... 
 
 w <j Charles VIII. (the Courteous), . 
 Louis XII. (the Father of his People) 
 Francis I. (d'Angouleme), 
 Henry IL, . . \ 
 Francis IL, 
 Charles IX., 
 Henry III., 
 Henry IV., 
 Louis XIII. , . 
 Louis XIV., 
 Louis XV., 
 Louis XVL, 
 The First Republic, 
 The Consulate, . 
 The First Empire, . 
 
 Louis XVIIL, . 
 Charles X., . 
 Louis Philippe, 
 The Second Republic, 
 The Second Empire, . 
 The Third Republic, 
 
 S w 
 
 1270- 
 1285- 
 1314- 
 1316- 
 1322- 
 1328- 
 1350- 
 1364- 
 1380- 
 1422- 
 1461- 
 1483- 
 1498- 
 1515- 
 1547- 
 1559- 
 1560- 
 1574- 
 
 1589- 
 1610- 
 1643- 
 
 1715- 
 1774- 
 1793- 
 1799- 
 1804- 
 1814- 
 1824- 
 1830- 
 1848- 
 1852- 
 1870- 
 
 -1285 
 -1314 
 -1316 
 -1322 
 -1328 
 -1350 
 -1364 
 -1380 
 -1422 
 -1461 
 -1483 
 -1498 
 -1515 
 -1547 
 -1559 
 -1560 
 -1574 
 -1589 
 
 -1610 
 -1643 
 -1715 
 
 -1774 
 -1793 
 -1799 
 -1804 
 -1814 
 -1824 
 -1830 
 -1848 
 -1852 
 -1870 
 
Books for Young People. 
 
 TALES OF ANCIENT GREECE. 
 
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 BRAVE MEN'S FOOTSTEPS. 
 
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