THE
HISTORY
OF
F RAN C E.
3Y
EYRE EVANS CROWE.
VOL. L
NEW  YORK:
HiARPER & BROTHEI'S, PUBLISHERS
320 & 331 PEARL STREET,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1    6 9.








CONTENTS.
CHAP. I.
fhe Merovingians and Carlovingians........................... Page
CHAP. II.
987-1226.
From  the Accession of Hugh Capet to that of Saint Louis.............CHAP. III.
1226-1325.
From the Accession of St. Louis to that of the Race ofV',:'~....
CHAP. IV.
1328 —1461.
From the Accession of Philip of Valois to that of Louis XI.........
CHAP. V.
1461-1515.
From the Accession of Louis XI. to that of Francis I.................. 116
CHAP. VI.
1515-1547.
Francis the First...............................................  152
CHAP. VII.
1547-1559.
Henry the Second.......................2...........0................ 206
CHAP. VIII.
1559-1574.
Francis the Second and Charles the Ninth......................  231
CHAP. IX.
1574-1589.
Henry the Third.................................               256
CHAP. X.
1589-1610.
Henry the Fourth....... <...,...............  27








HISTORY OF FRANCE.
CHAPTER I.
THE MEROVINGIANS AND CARLOVINGIANS.
GAUL was reduced by Cesar under subjection to the Romans about fifty years previous to the birth of Christ. The
country remained for the space of five centuries under their
sway, troubled, nevertheless, during the latter half of the
period, by the incursions, conflicts, and finally by the settlement, of barbarian invaders. Under its first conquerors Gaul
made rapid progress in improvement. It received the advantages of political union, of an enlightened system of justice,
of a long interval of peace; and wealth, industry, agriculture, and commerce soon followed as necessary consequences.
The very climate was wonderfully ameliorated, and the soil
rendered capable of producing and maturing those choice
fruits which the Romans introduced. The vine, the olive,
even the useful plant of flax, were brought thither from the
south. The Christian religion, too, was amongst the boons
which Rome gave to her subject lands in return for their political independence: nor can the conquests of that ambitious
city be said to have been, on the whole, destructive of liberty;
since by her were sown those precious seeds of municipal
union and rights which were never altogether stifled, and
which sprang up after the long winter of the dark ages, to
offer the earliest buddings of civilization, and to bear the first
fruits of modern freedom.
Of the natural and well-known boundaries of the Roman
province of Gaul, the Rhine was the most important. It was
the great barrier which defended the empire from the errant
tribes and nations that swarmed beyond. Wealth and civilization were on one side of the stream; want and barbarism
upon the other. Betwixt such neighbors the natural state is
war.  The disciplined legions of Rome, however, quelled
the turbulence of the German tribes, penetrated far and at
different intervals into their country, fully avenged one or
two defeats, and long held their rude enemies in salutary
awe.




S                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.             A. D. 400
The Germans, though little versed in policy,'began after
some time to perceive that thtuir frequent defeats we re in a'reat measure owing to their disunion, to their dispersion in
different tribes, and to the want of any solid or lasting bond
of connexion, whilst they were opposed by the united mind
and forces of a large empire. The mutual leagues hitherto
formed amongst the barbarians were not sufficiently knit and
woven together. The consciousness of this defect produced
in the third century those confederacies, in which many tribes
united, not occasionally but lastingly, under one common
name, and often under one monarch or chief. Some assumed
the appellation of Allemanni, or All-Men; others, the simpler
distinction of Franks, that is, Brave or Free Men.
The chief seat of the confederacy of the Franks was that
marshy territory, overflowed and divided into islets by the
Rhine, from the spot where the river commences to turn westward, to its junction with the sea. The first mention of them
by the historians of the empire takes place A. D. 241. In
nearly forty years after, Probus quelled one of their incursivns, and drove them back into their morasses. The civil
war betwixt Magnentius and Constantius, which occupied and
wasted the Roman forces in mutual slaughter, allowed both
Franks and Allemanni to establish their desolate rule on the
left bank of the Rhine.  The emperor Julian defeated and
subdued them, drove the Allemanni within their ancient
bounds, but allowed the Franks to settle permanently on the
Roman side of the Rhine, in the province of Toxandria, supposed to be the modern Brabant.
The commencement of the fifth century is marked by the
great and victorious irruption of all the barbarian hosts into
Gaul. They poured, like a long pent up and gathering tide,
in a thousand destructive torrents throughout the land, sweeping away and overwhelming in a mass, life, property, and institutions. Were it not for the Christian church, which held
itself aloft and alive above the general inundation, the very
memory and precious traditions of the past would have per
ished amidst the universal ruin. Years elapsed, ere the agitation subsided and the inebriety of conquest was over. When
calm was restored, the Visigoths were in possession of Aquitaine and the lands southward of the Loire, with Toulouse
for their capital.  The Burgundians held the provinces bordering on the Rhone, from the lake of Geneva to the Mediterranean. Britany had established a kind of independence.
The Franks, who had looked on themselves as the allies more
than as the enemies of Roman power, and who had at first
bravely stood forth in its defence, had advanced their estab.
lishments over the present Netherlands to the limits of mod




485.          CLOVIS.                                  9
ern France;. whilst the central provinces, preserved to the
empire by the victories of LEtius, were, like Britain, gradu
ally abandoned to themselves, and came to obey, under Roman forms and titles, the wealthiest and most powerful of the
native provincials. It was thus that count LEgidius, and after
him his son Syagrius, governed, and were even said to have
reigned at Soissons.
It is singular to observe that of all the nations which overran Gaul, that which eventually subdued the rest, and gave
its name both to the land and to the general race, was the
least united, and the least advanced in the arts of life and
policy. Both the Goths and the Burgundians were more civilized than the Franks. Each of the former was a nation,
forming one race, and obeying one monarch and family of
monarchs.  The Franks, on the contrary, were but a looser
kind of confederacy, which held together still less as they
advanced from the Rhine.  Each town or territory had its
petty and independent sovereign; and previous to Clovis, we
meet with no sign of supreme chief or capital town amongst
them. This, no doubt, was advantageous to them. They
were thus more free to emigrate and to invade. It left the
throne of chieftaincy open to the first leader of pre-eminent
talents; whilst the vagueness and comprehensiveness of their
name was calculated to congregate and admit beneath their
banner any roving bands, or even whole nations, of barbarians
that might be in search of plunder or establishments.
Such is the secret of the rise of Clovis, the founder of the
French monarchy.  He was the young chief or king of a
small colony of the Franks established at Tournay. In conjunction with the Frank chief of Cambray, he attacked Syagrius, the provincial governor of the Soissonnois, defeated
hiom, and took possession of his territory and capital. (A. D.
485.)  It was on this occasion the circumstance took place,
so often narrated and alluded to as a proof of the piety of the
king, and the independent habits of the barbarians. A silver
vase, reserved for sacred uses, had been taken, amidst other
plunder, from the church of Rheims. It was at Soissons that
the distribution of booty was to take place. Thither came
Saint Remy, bishop of Rheims, supplicating for the restoration of the silver vase. Clovis was favorable to the bishop's
request, and sought to gratify it. He addressed his assembled
soldiers, and begged of them, in addition to his share, to grant
him the vase in question.  Ere the assembly could answer, a
*holerous soldier, jealous of his rights, struck the vase Viith,is ax, exclaiming that the kiig had no right to more than
1ell to his allotment. Despite the rudeness of the act, it was
fill' onsonant to the habits nnd laws of the free barbarians




10               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  49
Clovis was obliged to dissemble his resentment, and defer his
vengeance.  It was not until several months after, that. at a
review,^he took an opportunity to find fault with the breaker
of the vase for the bad condition of his arms.  Clovis flung
the soldier's ax to the ground, and whilst the latter stooped
to pick up the weapon, the monarch slew him with a blow
of his own, exclaiming, "Thus didst thou serve the vase of
Soissons!"
Clovis, like all the heroes and eminent men of those ages,
paid great respect to the church, and received considerable
advantage from its aid. The Franks had been hitherto heathens; but Clovis, having married Clotilda, a Burgundian
princess, became instructed in the rites and religion of the
Christians. In the heat of a battle against the Germans in
the neighborhood of Cologne, Clovis recalled the example of
Constantine, who in a doubtful moment of action invoked the
God of the Christians, and was heard. The king of the
Franks imitated the example of the Roman, prayed for victory to the God of Clotilda and of Constantine, won it soon
after, and was baptized, with the greater number of his followers, in grateful acknowledgment of the divine aid. Clovis
had the good fortune to imbibe Christianity at its pure source.
The Visigoth and Burgundian monarchs, though Christian,
were Arians at this time. Clovis received the orthodox faith,
which brought to him the zealous support of the Gaulish
clergy, and gave to him the title of Most Christian King,
worn by his successors to the present day.
The comparison between Clovis and Constantine might be
followed farther.  Their embracing of Christianity had a
similar effect upon both. Instead of tempering their passions,
and inspiring them with the virtues of mildness and mercy,
it seems to have rather given rein to their ferocity and bloodthirstiness.  The domestic murders committed by Constantine, that of his wife, and of his son, are known. To assassination Clovis united perfidy. All the rival monarchs or
chieftains whom lie could conquer or entrap were sacrificed
to his jealousy and ambition. The whole race of a rival family
was extirpated, in some instances, by the hand of Clovis himself. How could Christianity be made conducive to such
crimes' By being coupled with the corrupt doctrine of personal confession and absolution, which, by superseding the
voice of conscience, took away all natural obstacles to crime,
and held forth, in a barbarous age, the certain prospect of
impiunity.
Although Clovis won a great battle over the Visigoths in
Aquitaine, and obtained a nominal dominion over a portion
of t-hat erovince, nevertlhels:, Iis kinirdom caniinot be said to




511.            SUCCESSORS OF CLuVIS.                 1
have really extended beyond the Loire.  Iis system, though
favorable to conquest, was by no means so to extended sway.
Whilst the Gothic and Burgundian chiefs dispersed, and settied on the soil, a considerable portion of which they forced
from the native proprietor, the Franks remained in a warlike
body, a kind of standing army, about their king. Even ii'
they did Scatter and divide, for the greater convenience of
pasturage and provision, into winter-quarters, in spring they
never failed to reassemble in their Champ de Mars; a kind
of half parliament, half review, at first used for discussing
and arranging plans of conquest. But in time, as the inferior order of warriors ceased to attend and the prelates appeared there in greater numbers and influence, the national
assembly gradually came to exercise judicial and legislative
functions, to elect sovereigns and officers, and to sanction
laws.
Clovis reigned until the year 511. He had first fixed his
residence at Soissons, and was crowned in the cathedral of
Rheims.  About the middle of his reign he transferred the
seat of sovereignty to Paris. Its central situation and security, owing to its being surrounded by the Seine, proved the
wisdom of the choice.  Clovis ended his days in his new
capital, and was buried in the church of St. G6envieve, its
patron saint, so honored for having defended it successfully
by her prayers against the menaces of Attila.
The descendants of Clovis, or the Merovingians, as they
are called from Merovee their supposed founder, reigned over
the Franks for nearly two centuries and a half: That long
period occupies but a brief space in history: its annals offer
but a succession of barbarism and crime. From  Clovis to
Charles Martel, the grandfather of Charlemagne, there existed not a personage worthy of the reader's attention or
memory; there is not recorded an event or anecdote which
could excite any feeling save disgust.
Nevertheless, if we were to esteem a nation by its con
quests and extent, the empire of the Franks would commana
our highest consideration.  The sons of Clovis subdued Burgundy and Aquitaine, and extended their dominions, with the
exception of a small province round Narbonne retained by
the Visigoths, to the Pyrenees and the Mediterranean in the
south, whilst Switzerland, Bavaria, Saxony, and the German
nations as far as the Baltic and the Elbe, acknowledged their
authority towards the north. This large empire divided itself
naturally into two great portions; Austrasia to the east, Neustria to the west: the former clinging to German habits, lalr.
guage, and independence; the latter, adopting the tongue
and manners of the Romanized Gauls, made great advances




12                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 752
in civilization, whilst it at the same time retrograded, and
fell behind its Austrasian neighbor in martial spirit, and consequently in political influence and power. The wars, which
never ceased to harass France during the reigns of the Merovingians, were kept up principally by the rivalry betwixt
these two portions of the empire. In the struggle which preceded and produced the establishment of the race of Charlemagne, the Latin or western portion of France may be considered to have been reconquered by the Germans or Austrasians; and thus a fresh infusion of the ruder spirit of the
Transrhenane race came to invigorate the already degenerated
Franks of Gaul.
The race of Clovis became effete from gross licentiousness,
and was thinned by mutual slaughter. As is the case with
the Turks of the present day, the first act of a monarch was
to put to death his brothers, uncles, and nephews. Consanguinity, instead of being a bond of attachment, was the cause
of a deadly and always fatal enmity. Such a succession of
murders naturally produced the reigns of kings under age.
Monarchs or monarchs' sons could not long escape the sword
of the assassin: whilst to intrust an infant king to the care
of one of his own race, or of royal blood, even if such survived, was to deliver him to certain destruction. Hence
came the necessity of electing regents amongst the Frank
chiefs. The office fell to the only magistrate or minister existing in that rude state of society. This was the mord-dom,
or major domus, as it is rendered in Latin, who was at once
a royal judge and a kind of steward of the household. At
one time appointed by the king, at another chosen by the
aristocracy, the major domus, or mayor of the palace, soon
became more formidable than the monarch himself. And
when, during a long minority, he had legally exercised the
royal functions, the mayor found it not difficult to prolong his
power by reducing his ward and sovereign to imbecility,
through physical indulgence and the absence of education,
as well as by other obvious arts calculated to strengthen his
own personal influence. The family of Pepin succeeded in
rendering the office hereditary in their race, and long wielded
the power, without assuming the name and honors, of royalty.
These belonged to the race chevelue, the long-haired race, as
the descendants of Clovis were called, from the custom of
never cutting the locks of the young princes.  In the year
752, Pepin at length threw off the mask, dethroned Childeric
III., the roi faineant or mock king of the moment, and the
last of the Merovingians, and caused himself to be crowned
in the presence of the assembled nation. As his right, Pepin
pleaded the long possession of all the realities of regal powc-i




752.               VIEW OF SOCIETY                    1 b
in his family: to this he added the free election of his countrymen; but, above all, he relied upon a bull issued by pope
Zachary, which declared him the legitimate monarch of the
Franks. It was upon this occasion that the popes first assumed that usurped right, which they afterwards so used and
abused, of throning and dethroning kings.
Previous to entering upon the reign of Charlemagne,that great epoch from whence modern history dates,-it is
advisable to take a brief view of that new state of society,
then in its infant growth, which, in the prodigious development that ourselves and our fathers have witnessed, so differed from, and so surpassed, that of all preceding ages. WVe
shall thus afford the reader a clew which may guide him
through the perplexed mazes of fact and event-give him a
scale by which he can mark the progress of society-and
make him acquainted with those hidden springs of action,
which can be observed in masses of men as well as in individuals.
Four chief powers will be found, on examination, to influence and divide political society,-the kingly, the sacerdotal,
the aristocratic, and the democratic. The necessary limits
of this work will not allow space to prove the justice and accuracy of this division, or to explain the foundation of its
principles in human nature. In the records of antiquity we
can never find the example of a state in which these powers
were all and separately developed. In very remote times,
the regal and sacerdotal powers were most generally united,
or subject one to the other; —united, as in the race of the
caliphs; royalty subject to the priesthood, as in ancient
Egypt, and vice versa, as many examples show. In the oriental monarchies, of ancient as of modern times, democracy is
of course null; aristocracy, deprived of hereditary rights,
but an ephemeral and insecure distinction.
In the republics of Greece and Rome, society took another
course. Royalty was abolished; the sacerdotal power was
united and rendered subservient to the patrician; the democratic itself was much less in action than we are given tc
suppose. In the palmy days of the Roman and Athenian republics, when the lands of Italy and Attica were cultivated,
and almost solely inhabited by slaves, the free and privileged
citizens of the commonwealth can scarcely be regarded in
any other light than in that of a dominant and cruel aristocracy. Their poverty, their moblike character and attributes,
zannot save them from the odious appellation.
In Europe, and in modern times alone, were the four prnn
ciples fully and separately developed, and the classes which
they respectively animate raised into independent existence.




14                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 752.
From the balance of power kept up between these, their mutual jealousies, alliances, collisions, have principally arisen
the superior civilization and policy of Europe.  Such is the
great characteristic that distinguishes modern from ancien
society. It is the great fact to be borne in mind-the grea
key for solving many a political problem.
if it be asked, why these natural principles of social amelioration lay, some of them at least, dormant in ancient, whilst
they were completely developed only in modern times; the
answer is, there was one great cause producing, but many
minor ones aiding. The new world certainly profited by the
example of the old. Traditions of liberty, of law, and of social order, floated down from the wreck of Roman greatness
to dark and barbarous times, when they were gathered, and
helped to build up the fabric of a new state. From the forests
of Germany, too, and the savage life of hunter and pastor,
the invading tribes themselves brought the germs of more
political wisdom than could have been hoped for,-those of
monarchy without despotism, of allegiance without the sacrifice of personal independence. But the great and leading
cause, which antiquity may be said to have wanted altogether,
was Christianity.
No doubt the Christian religion, having man for its agent,
has been accompanied by many evils, and has been perverted
to grievous abuses; but the observer of history, amidst the
many crimes and ills which he will have to lay to the charge
of some of the agents in its promotion, cannot avoid at the
same time confessing that, even when so perverted, it still
was productive of inestimable and often unperceived good;
and that to it principally, above all other causes, is owing
the superior state of modern morals, liberty, and civilization.
This is an assertion of which the proofs must be sought in
the ensuing pages. But we may anticipate so far as to observe, that had Christianity done no more than to war with
polygamy and slavery, as it did, to the abolition of both, it
would fully deserve the praise here bestowed. Nothing contributed so much to change the face of Europe, and to bestow upon it its present benign and happy aspect, as the raising of one half of mankind to their natural equality and
rights, and by the same act rescuing the other from the inhumanity and barbarism ever characterizing the despotic masters of their fellow-men. The abolition of slavery, without
effecting which it would have been idle preaching against
polygamy, instantly raised woman in the scale of being.
From this alone sprung all the virtues of chivalry, whilst
those of private and domestic life were created anew. It
was then that a brighter charm  spread around the hearth,



768.                 CHARLEMAGNE.                     15
that a genius came to preside over it, as far superior to the
dumb, dull lares of antiquity, as the worship of the invisible
God was to their pagan sacrifices.
We have seen what great use both Pepin and Clovis made
of the church in establishing their power. It was the church
alone that could then enable royalty to lift itself on the shoulders of the aristocracy. Charles, surnamed the Great, and better known under the appellation of Charlemagne, succeeded to
his father Pepin in the year 768, at first conjointly with his
brother Carloman, whose death, which took place soon after,
left the elder brothor sole monarch of the Franks. The first
act of Charles showed the warrior eager for conquest. He
raised an army, and advanced with it beyond the Loire. For
centuries barbarism had been continually making war upon
civilization, conquering, destroying, or blending with it. The
contest was not yet over, the amalgamation not perfect. The
rude Austrasians of the Rhine had lately subdued the more
polite Neustrians of the banks of the Seine. But Aquitaine
and the southern provinces were, with respect to Neustria,
what Neustria had been to Austrasia, far more civilized and
Latinized; and the hate on one side equalled the desire of
conquest and domination on the other. Pepin had vanquished
the Aquitanians.  Upon his death they rebelled, rallying
round one of the family of their ancient dukes. But the
courage of the southerns failed before the approach of Charles
and his northern army; their troops dispersed, and their chief
remained a prisoner. Charles, ere he retired, built the strong
castle of Fronsac, on the banks of the Dordogne, and garrisoned it, to keep the malcontent province in subjection. The
Franks had hitherto a hatred of towns, and a contempt of
fortifications. This is the first instance amongst them of
dominating a country by means of a fortress, and marks how
advanced were the views of Charles beyond those of his
time.
Charlemagne's next enemies were the Saxons-the most
formidable and obstinate that he encountered during his
reign. For the present, however, after a successful campaign
in their wild country, his attention was called away towards
Italy, where his conquests and alliances produced events as
important in their consequences, perhaps, as any to be found
in modern history.
If we contemplate the church from the tall of the Roman
empire, we shall perceive that in the dark ages its struggle
was unceasingly for dominion, authority, and wealth. Unable,
perhaps, to make the barbarians feel the superiority of their
sacred character, of their creed, and the morals that they
taught by eloquence or argument alone, the priesthood felt it




16i               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  774
requisite to gain temporal power, in order that their spiritual
influence might be greater and more salutary. Some wealth
was certainly necessary for them, as was some power. But
this portion proved but a bait for the avarice and violence of
the barbarians, and could only be rendered secure by its being rendered equal or superior to that possessed by the lay
aristocracy.
As Rome was considered superior to all western cities, so
was its bishop placed above other bishops. An imperial edict
sanctioned this supremacy, which the Romanists vainly sought
to found upon the text of the Gospel. Like other prelates,
the pope endeavored to support his spiritual authority by ternm
poral power; but whilst their position allowed them  only to
acquire territorial wealth and judicial independence, he
aimed at sovereignty.  When the head of the empire abandoned or was driven from the dominion which he exercised
over Rome, as over other cities, the bishops, from the absence
of other magistrates, and the total ruin of respectable families, laid hold of the authority thus abdicated, and ruled as
delegates or inheritors of the imperial rights. Such was the
claim put forth by the early popes.  They aimed at sovereignty not only in Rome, but in the Imperial province or
Exarchate, as the territory attached to Ravenna was called.
The Lombard kings, however, sternly resisted these claims;
and themselves, or their vassals, the dukes of Nepi or Spoleto, were in the habit of plundering, enslaving, of making or
unmaking pontiffs, according as their interest prompted, or
the fortune of war allowed.
In vain did the popes, with all their sacred character,
struggle against the power of the sword. When Pepin, however, thought fit to apply to Rome for a title to his crown,
the prospect of gaining so powerful an ally was eagerly laid
hold on. Every wish of Pepin was granted, and in return
his aid was sought against the Lombards.  The grateful
monarch led an army into Italy, and obliged Astolphus, their
king, to yield up not only the territory round Rome, but the
Exarchate, to the pope.  We may suppose how reluctantly
and imperfectly these stipulations were performed, especially
after the departure of Pepin, who never afterwards found
eisure to turn again his attention or arms towards Italy.
After the death of Pepin, the solicitations of the pope
were renewed to his son, whose youthful ambition and piety
were soon inflamed. Charles summoned his captains to meet
him in the spring at Geneva. Under the Merovingians, these
assemblies were the Champs de AMars,-March being the
month of meeting. But as the Franks, from serving on foot,
became cavaliers under the second race, the time was changed




774.                CHARLEMAGNE.                      17
to May, for the sake of forage, and the assemolies were
called Champs de JMai. From Geneva, Charlemagne passed
the Alps, routing the Lombards, who opposed his passage.
Their king, Desiderius, did not dare to meet the German
monarch in the open field, but shut himself up in his capital,
Pavia. The Franks invested it; but, unskilled in the art of
attacking fortified places, they contented themselves with a
strict blockade. Whilst it lasted, Charles advanced to visit
the ancient seat of empire. He was received by pope Adrian
with such honors as were paid to the Patrician or viceroy of
the emperors. Every homage and attention were lavished,
and Charles gratefully confirmed the gifts of Pepin to the
church,-gifts, however, which he considered more in the
light of a fief or benefice than as an absolute cession. He
then returned to Pavia, which surrendered, together with its
king.  Thus ended the kingdom of the Lombards, and Italy
became a province of the empire of the Franks.
No sooner was Italy conquered, than we find Charlemagne
engaged with the Saxons, routing and slaughtering their
armies, overrunning their country, and summoning his warriors to the Champ de Mai at Paderborn, and other remote
places far within the German borders. Some historians consider this inveterate thirty years' war, which Charlemagne
carried on against the Saxons, as proceeding.fiom his hatred
of barbarism, and his ardent desire to extend the pale of
civilization. But this is too advanced and statesman-like an
idea for the age. It seems to have been more fiom a wish to
propagate Christianity that Charles wielded his sword so
ruthlessly against the Saxons. The exploits and example of
the Saracens had a great influence over him; and his wish
to rival them is far more manifest in his acts and character
than has been noticed.
It was long since the Saracens had completed the conquest
of Spain, extended their dominions beyond the Pyrenees, and
menaced even the empire of the Franks. Charles Martel,
the grandfather of Charlemagne, in a bloody victory gained
over them near Poitiers, put a final check to the advance of
the Saracens in that direction, and introduced the rival nations to the dread and esteem of each other. In that campaign, the Franks suffered greatly from the light horsemen
of the Arabs; and it is very probable that the circumstance
led them to adopt the mode of fighting on horseback, which
soon after became general, and laid an essential foundation
of the chevaleresque spirit.
The love of letters, and of those who cultivated them, with
the ambition of founding learned institutions, was another
trait of Charlemagne's character, caught in part, though not




18                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  784
exclusively, from the Saracens. And his system of propa
gating Christianity by the sword, such as he practised against
the Saxons, may be regarded as another principle of conduct
and of glory imitated from the warlike votaries of the caliphs
The same motive would induce him  still more, no doubt
to direct his arms against the Saracens themselves. Such
an expedition he did undertake. In 778, he passed the Py
renees, took and dismantled the towns of Pampluna and Sar
agossa, and compelled all the Arab princes of that region to
swear fealty to him.  On his return across the Pyrenees,
nevertheless, they prepared an ambuscade.  The Basques
and Gascons, more hostile to the Franks than to the Saracens,
joined their aid to the latter; and the united forces awaited
Charlemagne and his victorious army as they traversed the
valley of Roncesvaux. There never was a combat of which
history has given so few details, and fable and poesy so many,
as that of Roncesvaux.  It appears that the rear-guard of
Charlemagne was attacked and cut off. With it perished
some of his bravest captains, or, as the romancers afterwards
called them, his paladins. Amongst them was his nephew,
the famous Roland, the hero of Ariosto, precisely chronicled
by Eginhard, as prefect of the frontiers of Britany. The bad
success of this expedition inspired Charlemagne with a disgust of warring against the Saracens. Their frontier was
far from Charles's Austrasian province on the Rhine, which
furnished his best and most attached soldiers, whilst he could
expect nothing save disaffection and treachery from his subjects of Aquitaine.
The land of the Saxons bordered, on the contrary, upon his
native dominions, and was not far from his chosen capital,
Aix-la-Chapelle. This it behoved him to make the centre of
his monarchy, and to repel from it by force of arms the dangerous vicinity of pagans and barbarians. Charlemagne had
already led two expeditions against them. In the first, he had
overthrown their great idol, and ruined his temple. In the
next, he established fortresses and garrisons, compelling the
people to be baptized, and to swear fealty to him. The Saxons,
however, were not to be quelled by the same facile means as
the civilized citizens of Gaul. Again and again they rose in
insurrection, headed by Witikind, a hero worthy of being the
rival of Charlemagne.  As long as Witikind found the spirit
of independence alive amongst the Saxons, or as often as he
could awake it, he led them  against the Franks; and when
his vanquished countrymen submitted to the conqueror, he
alone disdained to stoop, and fled across the Baltic, from
whence he returned more than once to excite the Saxons
against Charlemagne.  The monarch of the Franks vowed




800.      CHARLEMAGNE CROWNED AT ROME                19
to extirpate the stubborn pagans altogether, and for many
successive years he wasted their country, that is, its population and cattle, with fire and sword. Even the proud spirit
of Witikind was forced to bow before the conqueror; the
Saxon hero appeared at the Champ de Muai, and vowed obedience to Charles.  The latter, however, could not trust the
Saxons. He transported immense numbers of them from the
banks of the Elbe to the interior of his dominions, and at the
same time divided their country into benefices, which he distributed to his prelates, that the remnant of the Saxons might
become Christian as well as subject.
This is a fit place to mark an important pqint in Charlemagne's policy. As he conquered himself the greater part
of his empire, he had to appoint the rulers or lords of provinces and districts; in other words, counts and dukes. He
dreaded the aristocracy, which had raised his family on the
ruins of the Merovingians; and his object was to prevent the
great charges of the empire, and the governments of provinces, from becoming hereditary. He wanted to form a monarchy on the oriental plan, in which the nobles, enjoying
privileges attached to their persons, not to their race, were
unable to perpetuate and consolidate their power. This plan,
obviously tending to despotism, was fortunately frustrated.
Charlemagne's views in this respect led him to lean so much
to the church, as to prefer bestowing territorial commands
upon prelates rather than upon lay nobles. And the same
principle governed both him and Pepin in their unaccountable
generosity to the pope of Rome.
The year 800 is the date of a ceremony which, though but
a ceremony, and produced in a great measure by accident,
has had more influence upon the state of Europe than all the
victories of the century. A conspiracy broke out in Rome
against pope Leo III.: he was taken prisoner, maltreated, but
contrived to escape. He fled for protection to Charlemagne;
and that monarch, receiving the fugitive with his wonted
piety, led him back to Rome at the head of an army, rein
stated him, and took vengeance upon his enemies. It was
on the following Christmas that Charles, accompanied by his
court and an immense assemblage, heard mass performed by
Leo in the church of St. Peter's. At its conclusion, the pope
advanced in procession towards the monarch, placed on his
head a crown of gold, and saluted him by the titles of Emperor and Augustus. Thus was the empire of the west restored
in the person of Charlemagne. The Frank was seated on the
throne of the Cwesar. Nor was the ceremony, as we might
deem it, an idle pomp;-it gave rights, and dignity, and
power. Precedent and authority were the only logic of the
2




g0                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.                   i1-L.
age; and the magic of a name, not without influence in this
day, was all-powerful in that. No very considerable event
afterwards occurred to mark the declining years of Charlemagne.  He died in 814, at Aix-la-Chapelle, and was buried
in the famous;iinster or cathedral which he had founded.
Charlemagne was a man of extraordinary mind and pow
ers. To the characteristics of a hero and a conqueror, he
united those of a monarch and legislator.  In an age when
the monastic virtues had superseded all others, he alone made
those of the statesman temper them; and though so devoid
of early education as to be unable to write, he supplied the
defect by stu4y throughout the whole course of his busy
reign, and became a judge and a patron of letters at a time
when the taste seemed utterly extinct save in him. Three
hundred years were yet to elapse ere chivalry was to flourish,
and yet Charlemagne anticipated its spirit; and the romancers
of after-time had recourse to him and to his paladins, as the
fittest models of knightly conduct and chivalrous valor.
The descendants of Charlemagne shall here be treated with
as little notice as those of Clovis. Both degenerated, and
were trampled under foot by the aristocracy. But the changes
which the nation underwent during the reign of the Carlovingians are far better known, and far more important. There
is this peculiar character in their history; that personages
qnd incidents, with one exception,-that of Rollo and the cession of Normandy,-are utterly unattractive, whilst the silent
progress of society offers a. picture full of interest.  We can
afford to take but a cursory glance at the latter.
There is no political truth more fully known and admitted,
than that slaves and freemen cannot continue long to form
together the laboring class of the community.  Universally,
in a generation or two, the freemen disappear; the slaves
alone remain upon the soil.  Such was the case under the
successors of Clovis. The conquests of Charlemagne spread
a new race of freemen over the face of Gaul: under his successors they gradually disappeared. Compelled to join the
army at their own expense, unprotected from violence, as
laves were, by a powerfll master, and disdaining those agricultural occupations practised by bondsmen, the freeman soon
abandoned his little property, or saw it wrested from him by
force.  Most generally he perished, or perhaps was sold to
pay off the weight of fines which his poverty forced him to
incur.
Of the class of freemen the armies of Charlemagne were
composed.  There remained still sufficient to carry on the
civil wars betwixt his grandchildren: between them the battle
of Fontenoy was fought in 841, in which forty thousand mrrn




850.        SUCCESSORS OF CHARLEMAGNE.                21
are said to have perished; and all the historians of the time
agree that the whole force of France perished with them.
Henceibrward the Normans and Saracens met nowhere with
resistance, and the entire kingdom was exposed defenceless
to pillage. How was this. The surviving population, excepting the class of prelates and nobles, were serfs and villains, and consequently forbidden and unused to bear arms.
The state was without a defender,-the melancholy and inevitable consequence of slavery.
The lesser aristocracy also had greatly decayed.  The
equal division of property amongst brethren proved nearly
as destructive to the noble as to the monarch.. In the middle
of the ninth century, the church stood alone unimpaired, and
seemed at once to be possessed of all property as of all power.
The kings, however, inherited the right, tenaciously held and
exercised by Charlemagne, of appointing the superior governors, or dukes and counts of provinces.  In the reigns of
his weak successors, and principally in that of Charles the
Bald, his grandson, the sovereign, in order to gain the support of the leading nobles against his competitors, found it
necessary to abandon to them their commands, with hereditary rights thereto. Here the system of Charlemagne, and
of the old and oriental monarchies, was departed from, and
an hereditary aristocracy formed, possessed, each in his county,
of all the attributes of sovereignty, and wanting nothing but
the name.
Previously to this, the proprietors of the provinces, held
their lands of the monarch, and professed allegiance exclusively to him; but now, the dukes and counts came to stand
in the royal place. Finding a great portion of the lands destitute of cultivators, owing to the devastations of the Normans, they distributed them to their followers, demanding in
return personal allegiance to themselves rather than to the
common sovereign.  Thus were formed the sub-infeodations,
the essential principle of the new political state,-the fibre,
as we may say, which soon grew forth into the vast body of
the feudal system.
The feeble characters of the Carlovingian monarchs, to.
gether with those frequent partitions and exchanges of territory amongst them, which prevented any power from being
consolidated in their hands, or any feeling of loyalty from
talking root in the bosoms of the people, was the chief cause
of their fall, and of the weakness which abandoned their
rights to the possessors of the great fiefs. The frequent invasions of the Normans contributed powerfully, however. towards the same effect.
Almost from the reign of the Antonines to that of Charle




22                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 911
magne, the current of barbaric conquest had continued to
overflow the Danube and the Rhine. The great effort of this
hero's life was to check its torrent; and he succeeded. For
the first time the northern nations became inspired with a
dread of the south, and despaired to force their way, by land
at least, into the fertile regions where their ancestors had
emigrated.  The tide, excluded from its ancient channels,
opened new outlets for itself. Denmark and Scandinavia had
been long accustomed to rear a surplus population, and to
eject it upon foreign climes. The way by land was now
closed; the more perilous path of the sea lay open, and the
barbarians took to it in their rude galleys,-every reader of
English history knows with what success. Even Charlemagne
had the mortification, towards the close of his reign, to hear
that two hundred of their vessels had landed their crews on the
coast of Friesland, that the province had been ravaged, and
the marauders re-embarked ere an army could be mustered
to repel or revenge the insult. Under his successors, the
Danes or Normans met of course with more success and
more impunity.  They sailed up the mouths of all the navigable rivers, the Rhine, the Seine, the Loire, burning and
pillaging all the great towns, laying waste the provinces, and
dragging the population along with them. They met with
no resistance. The reason has been previously stated. The
inhabitants of the country, almost all reduced to the servile
state, were denied, and ignorant of, the use of arms.
The absolute necessity of resisting these invaders, which
the monarch was never equal to, excited at length the efforts
and talents of the nobles. They exercised themselves to
arms, fortified their dwellings, and made strong-holds of them.
They converted their serfs into soldiers; gave them land
with- a partial property or durable tenure of it, that they mig h
be more attached to their chiefs, and more interested to de
fend them. Feudality, in fine, arose; and, it is to be re
marked, principally in the exposed and invaded provinces.
All these foundations of it were laid before the conclusion of
the ninth century. In the tenth they became consolidated.
In the year 911, when Charles the Simple, whose name
bespeaks his character, reigned in France, the celebrated
Rolf; or Rollo, sailed up the Seine with a numerous navy of
Danes or Normans, with the usual purpose of pillaging and
levying contributions. He besieged Paris and Chartres: the
word marks the progress that fortifications, and, what is more
important, the defence of them, had made; for formerly the
Danes penetrated into every town without resistance. He
ravaged even the distant province of Burgundy.  Whilst
king Charles the Simple sent an archbishop to offer Rollo an




911.                     ROLLO.                        23
entire province of his dominions as the price of peace, Robert,
Count of Paris, the ancestor of Hugh Capet and of the
present dynasty of France, assembled an army, and attacked
the Norman near Chartres.  If Rollo gained the victory, it
was dearly purchased; and the circumstance rendered him
more inclined to accept the offer of Charles the Simple. He
was to possess Normandy as its hereditary duke, swearing
allegiance to Charles, and suffering himself to be baptized,
with his whole army. After three months' negotiation, Charles
and Rollo met upon the banks of the river Epte, the boundary
of the future duchy, and the treaty was concluded; the
French monarch at the same time giving his daughter Gisele
in marriage to the Norman duke. The ceremony of swearing
allegiance was found to be the only difficulty, Rollo declaring
that he would never bow the knee to mortal. One of his
followers was ordered, by way of compromise, to perform the
humiliating act. The surly Norman obeyed reluctantly; and
in the act of raising the monarch's foot to his mouth, lifted it
so rudely and so high as to upset the new liege.lord of his
master. The Normans on the occasion could not refrain from
loud laughter. The French dissembled, passed over the insult, and the treaty was not interrupted.
Rollo divided the lands of Normandy amongst his principal
followers, and demanded of them an oath of service and allegiance similar to that which Charles had sought of him.
These again imitated their chief with respect to their inferiors. Duke Rollo had for advisers the French bishops,
whom he had established in his dominions; and they instructed
him in all the laws and habits then prevalent in France,
which they were naturally anxious that he should adopt, in
preference to the rude and pagan manners of his native land.
In the formation of a new state of society, as in that of a
new city, order and system could more easily be introduced
and observed; and the people, who last received the principles of feudality, first brought them  to that regularity and
perfection, unknown as yet, and afterwards imitated, throughout the rest of France.  Thus, as the ravages of the Danish
marauders aided most materially in laying the foundations of
the feudal system, so their final settlement served to con
plete and crown the edifice.




24                HISTORY OF FRANCE.             912-91 8
CHAP. II.
FROM THE ACCESSION OF HUGH CAPET TO THAT OF SAINT
LOUIS, 9S7-1226.
THE reign of Charlemagne resembles the course of a meteor, which sheds a brilliant light around the heavens for a
space, but leaves the darkness still more dreary as it disappears. Despite the place and rank which it assumes, it is a
stranger to the great system athwart which lies its track, and
whose progress it may be said more to disturb than to promote.  Soon after the death of Charlemagne, his large empire fell asunder by its own weight. The mutual antipathies
of different and neighboring races seconded the rivalry of the
Carlovingian princes. The great division was into the German and the French: the first knit together by their old
Teutonic tongue; the latter nurtured in the mixed language
of a race descended from Gaul, Roman, and Barbarian blended.
The Meuse, the Saone, and the Rhone, formed the line of
demarcation betwixt them. The elder branch of Charlemagne's descendants chose the country east of this, and
brought to it the title of Emperor, with all the vague prerogatives attached to the name. The Carlovingians lost the
throne of Germany, even ere they were driven from that of
France.  The Germanic habit of holding diets and national
assemblies was preserved to the east of the Rhine, whilst it
fell into disuse in the west. And there, in consequence, the
aristocracy acquired a more united and organized system of
superiority, and succeeded not only in rendering their own
rights hereditary, but also in making the monarchy elccLive.
A duke of Franconia, a duke of Saxony, were raised successively to the imperial throne; and their example emboldened
the family of Hugh Capet to usurp the place of the dwindled
Carlovingians of France.
In the reign of Charles the Bald a kind of union was effected, under his sway, of all the countries west of the
Meuse and the Rhone.  They composed a heterogeneous
mass.  The link of even a common name applied to the land
was wanting. Not only the Carlovingian monarchs, but the
Capetians themselves, were long styled kings, not of France,
but of the Franks. This circumscribed and ill-united realm
it was beyond their power to keep together in obedience to
them. A territorial aristocracy had everywhere arisen, by
their very nature independent.  Of the great connecting
principle of society, neither commerce nor letters, nor arms,




987               PROVINCIAL NOBLES.                  25
flourished in force sufficient to create general sympathies or
interests. Each baron isolated himself in his castle. The
life of towns, prevalent in classic times, was exchanged for
that of solitude and retirement.  With the dignity of the
monarch, that of the courtier naturally perished. Power lay
in castle and domain. No marvel that the high-born and
highly-gifted sought to realize their fortunes, and to erect for
themselves, in the provinces, that solid influence which the
tavor of the monarch could no longer bestow. This is the
true cause why those who administered the provinces under
Charles the Bald made their several jurisdictions independent; converting rights, in their origin vicarious, into personal and hereditary ones. This migration of the great nobles
from the court to the provinces, bringino with them  all the
regal attributes of high judicial, financial, and administrative
power, was the last blow given to royalty, and reduced it to
the empty prerogative of a name. Yet we shall soon see this
degraded principle of authority gradually rise, gathering
strength from its unity and fixedness of purpose, so superior
in influence to the separated and distracted powers of the
nobles; gradually attracting to itself their waifs, whether of
privileges or property; rallying around it, now the clergy,
now the people; and chiefly supporting itself upon that reverence "which doth hedge a king,"-on that mysterious and
superstitious feeling of loyalty, which, if unabused, so naturally takes root in the bosoms of a people.
The period of two hundred and forty years,-from the accession of Hugh Capet to that of St. Louis,-is described by
Sismondi as " a long interregnum, during which the authority
of king was extinct, although the name continued to subsist."
A history of France, during this period, is.a history, not of
its monarch, but of its nobles. And as yet these details are
neither heroic nor important enough to be interesting. A
duke had sprung up in Aquitaine, a king in Provence.  The
establishment of the Norman princes has already been narrated. Betwixt them and Aquitaine, Anjou obeyed a warlike
count. To the north, the first Baldwin possessed the County
of Flanders betwixt the Somme and the Meuse. The Duchy
of Burgundy was formed in the east; whilst that of Lorraine
was altogether independent of France, and held by tongue as
well as regime to the empire of Germany.  Taking away
these provinces from the map of France, a central portion
will be found to remain betwixt the Loire and the Flemish
border. Even here, however, the last Carlovingians possessed scarcely a castle which they could call their own.
The Counts of Paris possessed that city, as well as Orleans.'The Counts of Vermandois, wlhose capital wa SLt Quentinm




26                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  987
at this time ruled Champagne also: but soon after that prov.
ince came te increase the territories of the Counts of Blois.
The only town that obeyed the last reigning descendants of
Charlemagne was Laon, and here they usually resided, unless when obliged to take refuge at Rheirs, under the protection of the archbishop, against the attacks of the surrounding nobles.
Of this dominant and independent aristocracy, the most
fortunately placed, if not the most powerful, was the Count
pf Paris. The family had always distinguished itself. Robert
the Strong, its supposed founder, had combated the Normans
when every other Frank fled at their approach. Eudes had
defended Paris against them during a year's siege; and such
was the renown acquired by the feat, that he was crowned
king during the minority of Charles the Simple.  It seems
as if this new dignity diminished rather than increased the
power of the Counts of Paris, by the envy and enmity which
it excited.  For when Hugues, of the same family, might
with equal ease have worn the crown, he preferred bestowing
it upon Louis, surnamed Outre-mer, a boy of Carlovingian
blood. In the next generation the family grew more powerful. The eldest brother possessed the duchy of Burgundy;
the second, Hugh Capet, was Count of Paris and Orleans;
whilst their sister, married to the Duke of Normandy, secured the friendship of that powerful prince. Louis V., or
le Faineant, held the title of king of Laon. He was without offspring; whilst his uncle, Charles, the sole heir of Carlovingian rights, held the duchy of Lorraine of the emperor,
and might be supposed a stranger to France and to its succession. In 987, Louis died at Compeigne, poisoned, it is
said, by his wife.. As history is silent as to the cause, con
jecture has attributed the crime to the ambition of Hugl
Capet.  That noble took advantage of the opportunity, as
sembled some of his compeers at Noyon, where the form of
an election was gone through in his favor, and soon after
Hugh caused himself to be crowned in the cathedral of
Rheims.
Charles of Lorraine, though thus prevented of his rights,
was neither friendless nor vanquished. He soon took forcible possession of Laon and of Rheims, from which Hugh
Cs pet was unable to drive him by force of arms. He adroitly,
however, contrived to attach to his interests Ascelin, bishop
ot Laon, whon  Charles, somewhat mistrusting, kept with
h;m at Rheims.  A conspiracy, formed by Ascelin, was attenroll with complete success.  Charles was seized in his
bed, aiid, together with his nephew, the archbishop of
Rheims, delivered over to Hugh Capet. That monarch placed




987.                 HUGH CAPET.                     27
his prisoners in confinement at Orleans, where his coinpetitor, Charles of Lorraine, soon after died.
These, if we except a long quarrel respecting the archbishopric of Rheims, are the sole events of the reign of Huugh
Capet, which is supposed to have occupied nine years. Some
modern historians regard the founder of the third dynasty of
French monarchs as a hero and a master-spirit, whose talents
won for him  a crown.  Others, amongst whom is Sismondi,
represent him as a pious sluggard, indebted to fortune solely
hor his elevation. Both are in extreme. WVe see no proofs;f his heroism. But his was an iron age, in which the exertions of individuals had slight power in changing the course
af events. Nor does it follow that, because he was pious, he
was pusillanimous. He made war on the Count of Montreuil,
ko recover the relics of St. Riquier, which that Count had
stolen. Hugh Capet compelled him to surrender them, and;:ore himself the venerable remains on his royal shoulders to
the abbey of the saint.. Such is the account of the chronicltrs. But if we observe that Hugh at the same time built
and fortified Abbeville, the monarch will not seem altogether
gunk in the superstitious votary.
"Who made thee Count?" demanded Hugh Capet of a
refractory noble, supposed by some to be Talleyrand, Count
of Angouleme. "The same right that made thee king," was
the bold reply. Such was the measure of the new monarch's
authority. The great feudatories, in consenting to place the
crown on one of their own body, thought less of his elevation
than of humbling the throne. Their views were sound, if
they considered but themselves,-short-sighted, if they looked
forward to posterity. Feudality ascended the throne with
Hugh Capet; and, despite the precautions or intentions of the
founders, the head of so powerful a system could not long remain powerless himself. Organized as society now was in
regular and successive gradations of inferior and superior, a
supreme chief became necessary to complete the whole.
There was something wanting to crown the structure. The
nobles imagined to adorn it with the lifeless image of royalty.
But their statue, like Pygmalion's, took life as it became the
object of veneration, and grew at length to wield its sceptre
with a muscular arm.
Hugh Capet had taken the precaution to have his son
crowned and consecrated during his own life-time. Thus, on
the demise of the former, Robert found himself the undisputed king of France. The young monarch was one of those
soft, domestic tempers which fate so often misplaces on a
throne. He had married Bertha, the widow of the Count
of Blois, and was tenderly attached to her. The spouses had




'28                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  1031.
the misfortune to be distantly related, and Robert had been
godfather to one of Bertha's children by her fbrmer husband.
The pope considered these circumstances sufficient to render
the marriage incestuous; and he accordingly issued a command
to Robert, desiring him to put away Bertha, under pain of
excommunication.  The popes had erected themselves into
the censors of princes, and they were especially rigid in prohibiting the marriage of cousins.  Such unions, they said,
drew down divine vengeance, and were to be avoided, lest
they should produce national calamities.  Nor was this mere
superstition on their part: it had its policy. It was chiefly
by intermarriages that the great aristocracy at this time increased their territories and influence. Every obstacle thrown
in the way of these alliances consequently checked the growth
of their exorbitant might; every difficulty or scruple, being
in the power of the pontiff alone to remove, brought considerable advantage, both in revenue and respect, to the holy
see.  Robert struggled for four or five years in behalf of his
legitimate wife, against the terrors of excommunication; but
he was at length compelled to yield, to chase poor Bertha
from his presence, and to take another wife, Constance, the
daughter of the Count of Toulouse.  With her, a woman of
more spirit than her predecessor, Robert was less happy. The
monarch dreaded her, and was even obliged to do his alms in
secret for fear of her reproof. His chief amusement was the
singing and composing of psalms, to which the musical taste
of that age was confined.  In a pilgrimage to Rome, Robert
left a sealed paper on the altar of the apostles.  The priesthood expected it to contain a magnificent donation, and xwere
not a little surprised and disappointed to find it to contain but
a hymn of the monarch's composition. The piety of Robert
was most exemplary.  He was anxious to save his subjects
from the crime of perjury: the means he took were, to abstract privately the holy relics from the cases which contained
them, and on which people were sworn.  He substituted an
ostrich's egg, as an innocent object, incapable of taking vengeance on the false swearer.
Such are the facts which we have to relate of a ieigfn of
nearly thirty-five years.  The good king Robert slumbered
3n his throne, with a want of vigor and capacity, that would
have caused a monarch of the first two races to totter from
his seat, or at least would have transferred his authority to
some minister or powerful duke. The Capetians as yet, however, unlike the Carlovingians, had neither power nor prerogative to tempt the ambition of an usurper.  The very
itle of king was unenvied.  And whilst the sovereign led




1031.              HENRY TlE FFIST.                    29
the choir at St. Denis, France was not the less vigorously
governed by its independent and feudal nobility.
The obstinacy of the pope in breaking the marriages of
princes produced its natural consequences on the death of
Robert. Henry, known as the First of France, was that
monarch's son by Bertha, and had been crowned in the lifetime of his father. Constance, however, attached to her own
son Robert, made a league with Eudes, Countof Champagne,
and offered him half the town of Sens for his assistance
against Henry. The circumstance marks the limit of the
duchy of France. Henry, unable to resist so powerful a noble, fled with only- twelve companions to the protection of
Robert, Duke of Normandy. The Duke furnished the young
king with an army, which soon reduced Constance and her
supporter to submit and make peace. Henry I. took. possession of his circumscribed kingdom, ceding in fief to his brother
Robert the duchy of Burgundy, and to the Duke of Normandy, as the price of his aid, a territory called the Vexin,
comprised between the Oise and the Epte; thus bringing the
Noiman frontier within a few leagues of Paris.  The Vexin
proved afterwards the great subject of contention betwixt the
Norman dukes and their sovereign.
Thus settled oi his throne, Henry, like his father Robert,
sunk into quiet a..d insignificance. The Count of Champagne,
Eudes, eclipsed and overshaded the monarch, who was unable to drive him from Sens. Eudes sustained a long war with
the emperor, as a pretender to the throne of Aries and Provence. And when the nobles of Lombardy came to France in
search of a sovereign, they made offer of their crown, not to
Henry, but to Eudes. Yet, despite of the feebleness both of
their power and character, the French monarchs already drew
to them a greater share of respect. Henry made war upon
the Count of Champagne, and afterwards upon young William  the Bastard, Duke of Normandy.  His warlike efforts
could make no impression on those powerful feudatories: and
yet Eudes never attempted to retaliate.  The Norman duke,
though he routed and slaughtered one of the royal armies, refirained from attacking that which the monarch commanded
in person. The feudal system had grown to its full vigor: its
laws were established in superstition as well as custom; and
it was considered both impolitic and impious for a vassal to
war, without flagrant cause of injustice, against his suzerain.
Thus the feudal creed and institutions raised a protecting
fence around the feeble plant of royalty, and so enabled it to
attain that maturity and height which were hereafter to suf.
fice for its own existence and defence.
This new growth of the monarchic principle, however




30                HIISTORY OF FRANCE.               1037.
had at this time scarce raised itself from the ground.. Like a
well-born infant, it inspired at most a tender respect. It had
neither authority nor influence: these the aristocracy had for
a century monopolized. The power of the nobles alone flourished or subsisted in the state. The church first rose to combat them; and this epoch —the reigns of Robert and Henrymarks the commencement of the struggle. In the rude tenth
century, the priesthood had been completely trodden down.
Duke and baron and chevalier had usurped their lands, seized
churches and convents, and appropriated to themselves the
right of presentation at least, which they sold or bartered
when one of their own family did not hold the benefice. The
national clergy was utterly unable to withstand their powerful lay brethren. The crown, their natural protector, was not
in a condition to aid them. In this state of helplessness they
looked to the pope of Rome for support. There they applied
-thither they appealed. In rallying round the chair of the
Roman pontiff they saw the only hopes of rescuing themselves, their remaining property and privileges, from the
hands of the nobles. From near and temporal tyranny, they
appealed to the far and the spiritual. The popes took advantage of the movement, and soon erected thereon their supreme and infallible authority. To effect this great end, they
left no means unemployed.  War was declared  against
simony; councils were held; prelates deposed; and all the
thunders of the church dealt forth on whoever traded in or
usurped ecclesiastical benefices. The formation of an electoral college of cardinals secured the papal chair itself from
the influence of the emperors.  The celibacy of the clergy
was at the same time preached and enjoined, in order to
separate them still more from worldly and local interests, and
to unite the church into a compact body, such as might vie
with feudality itself. The priesthood throughout Europe, who,
had they been independent and uninjured at the beginning
of the eleventh century, would have been inclined to resist
the growing authority of their superior of Rome, in the then
dire and spoliated state of the church seconded it with all
their might. Royalty was unable to struggle against it, except in Germany, where it did so with very doubtful success.
The nobility, scattered, ignorant, and engaged in mutual
hostilities, though able to plunder the ecclesiastics of their
district, could offer to the united force of the hierarchy but
feeble and partial points of resistance. The papal see, like
Briareus, attacked them with a hundred arms. Vicegerent
of celestial power, it held out in either hand salvation and
perdition. Absolution and anathema were both in its gift.
Frequent miracles were made to sanction its divine authority;




1037.           TOWER OF THE CHURCH.                  31
so frequent, indeed, that the pious frauds of that age resuscitated the belief and practice of magic.  Having thus
ifrmed for itself such an arsenal of arms as no power could
oppose, the Roman see framed such a moral code as called'or and necessitated their use. Man's natural conscience,
with its simple teachings and its unerring warnings, was superseded; the Gospel, so harmonious with its voice, was set
aside; and the obsolete canons of Judaism, with the arbitrary
glossings of an ill-formed and interested body of men, substituted in its stead.
On such foundations, by such accidents and means, did the
Rorish church raise up the bulwarks of its authority. The
priesthood are not, more than any body of men, to be accused
of universal selfishness. The intentions of early pontiffs
were no doubt good, pious, and philanthropic. In putting a
curb in the mouth and a bar in the way of the aristocracy,
they produced the best effects upon the prospects of Europe.
A pity it was, that in the combat they fbund it necessary to
lay waste and to prostrate the minds of men, as temporal ty
rants did to ravage their properties and enslave their persons.
Certain it is, that they corrupted the sources both of rational
and moral sense. They removed and destroyed the very
landmarks of reason, that they themselves might be the only
and arbitrary meters of it.  They rendered right undistin
guishable from wrong; truth from falsehood; and adminis
tered, by way of antidotes to incredulity, the deadliest poi
sons of bigotry and superstition.
These accusations should, perhaps, instead of being di
rected against one class, be extended to man and to the age
The church then took upon itself the difficult and ungrateful
task of legislating and improving, which, in our own times.
is not accomplished with any wonderful degree of either enliohtenment or disinterestedness.  And, perhaps, if we consider attentively the legislators and moralists of later days,
we shall feel less entitled to declaim against the ecclesiastical sins and errors of the past.
Still, the means employed by the priesthood of this century
to subdue and to rule mankind were pernicious and unjust.
The ends they had in view were far otherwise; and the first
use which they made of their new power proves it. This was
to establish the Treve de Dieu, or Truce of God; by which
some check was put to the unceasing warfare of the nobles,
some respite and security procured for the unfortunate peasantry.  From Wednesday at sunset till sunrise on Monday
it was ordained that all military operations and acts of violence should cease. Feast days were included amongst those
devoted to peace, as well as the long intervals of fast and




.32p           ElZHISTORY OF I'RANCE.             1i0O
penitence which occur in the Romish church.  The persons
of all professing a religious life were rendered sacred; and,
what perhaps shows the humanity and wisdom of the measure more than any of the regulations, all implements of husbandry were put under the protection of the truce. In any
case it was forbidden to destroy them.  These laws, promulgated by the clergy, were enforced under pain of excommunication; and for a certain time they proved effectual in restraining the violence of the nobles. Even when the Truce
of God was forgotten, it left behind some principles of national or military law. It first taught the soldier to blend
humanity with courage, generosity with daring; and accustomed men to observe some rules of justice, even in hours
and acts of violence.  Chivalry soon after took up these
maxims, which the clergy were not fully able to enforce; and
the gallant sons of the aristocracy gave their aid in repressing the most flagrant abuses of the supremacy of their order.
Henry I. died in the year 1060. He had married Anne, a
Russian princess; apparently determined to allow the pope
no cause of spiritual warfare against him. For, had he
espoused a French wife, he could never be certain that she
was not related to him in some distant yet forbidden degree.
Henry was succeeded by his son Philip I., who was but
seven years of age when he began to reign. Baldwin, Count
of Flanders, had married king Henry's sister, and was left
guardian to the infant; a charge which he honorably and
successfully filled. The minority of Philip was marked by a
most important event-the conquest of England by William,
Duke of Normandy.  For the English reader, it is here sufficient to indicate its date. With this exception, there is
scarcely an event in the first thirty-five years of the reign of
Philip that demands attention.  Whilst the Normans were
laying the foundations of their sway in England, the famous
Hildebrand, who had been pope under the title of Gregory
VII., was establishing the papal supremacy; and the long
and important quarrel betwixt pontiff and emperor was then
commencing.  Philip, whose scanty revenues obliged him to
retain and convert to his own use the ecclesiastical revenues
of his duchy wherever pretext or opportunity was afforded,
was often, during that time, the object of the invectives and
menaces of the imperious pontiff. But the French king fortunateiy knew how to temporize and yield, and so avoided
the misfor.,unes of his contemporary the emperor Henry IV.
From the reign of Philip dates an important change in the
manners and feelings of the French. For centuries back the
general tendency of nations and of provinces, as of individuals, hled been to i  tsc;olt  to so;-ea   t t.h i" interests firo  t,hose




1069                PHILIP THE FIRST.                    383
of their neighbors, and to establish a surly and unsocial state
of independence.  There was no common bond of union,
even amongst the French. The feudal system, indeed, generally prevailed; but so rude was its state, so unfixed its laws,
and so uncertain the security which it gave, that hitherto
the efforts of every individual were required to preserve his
rank and his rights. Beyond selfish interests none had leisure to look.. About this epoch, however, the feudal law became consolidated: the rights of princes and vassals were
somewhat niore respected; the habits of mutual warfare
were checked by the interference of the clergy, whose frequent assemblies and journeyings, joined with the centralization of ecclesiastical authority in the pope, rendered communications betwixt different provinces more frequent and more
facile.  The nation, in short, began to reknit the links that
had long been broken.  Religion formed one point of sympathy: another was that warlike spirit, which the age and
the system  generated, but which was allowed no worthy
scope or field in which to display itself. A treacherous ambuscade laid for a neighbor, or the tedious siege of his almost
impregnable castle, were the only opportunities for exercising
the restless spirit of a rude and uninstructed race. Even
these opportunities the church, with its Treve de Dieu and
the regularization of the feudal code, were daily taking away.
In this time of forced and dissatisfactory quiet, the chivalrous
spirit was created. Poets and narrators sprung up, and were
rewarded. The hour of inaction was filled by listening to the
recital of stirring deeds. In the absence of real war, the
mimicry of it was eagerly sought after; and the field of
tournament was made a substitute for that of battle.  Here
was another pretext and cause for assembly, for communication, for society.  But even the perils of a tournay had not
interest enough for many. Of these, some betoolk themselves
to far and painful pilgrimages; others, to combat the infidels
n Spain; others, to wander at home, and afford prctection to
the weak and the oppressed, to the damsel and the orplan.
To a public mind thus at length united in common sympa
thies, and which was at once so restless, so spirited, and so
eager, the most welcome offer was a field of a.dventure.
This was found in the East. Pilgrimages had been long the
mode. They were the natural consequence of the worship
of saints and relics, and of the notion that bodily privations
aJdr perils encountered would be considered by the deity
as a set-off against sin. It was an age of great crimes and
great remorses, and pilgrimages formed then the only medicine of the guilty mind; the Romish church not having yet
broached the doctrine, thlat the payment of money to it s:




34               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1095sufficient to purchase a plenary indulgence.  For a long peliod previous to this, pilgrims had been in the habit of flocking to celebrated shrines; but the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem eclipsed all others in honor and efficacy. In 1054, Lithbert bishop of Cambray had led three thousand Flemish pilgrims to the Holy Land. Some years after, double that number performed the same difficult voyage from the Palatinate
and the banks of the Rhine. The sufferings xwhich they endured were unheard of and unequalled even in the annals of
feudal violence.  The recital of them by the pilgrims who
had escaped provoked the indignation of their compatriots at
home; whilst the immense spiritual advantages, as well as
honor, gained by the achievement of such a journey, excited
their warmest emulation.
These unarmed expeditions, with the cruelties exercised
upon them by the infidels, suggested armed and hostile ones.
The universal thought of an age is often referred to the first
bold utterer of it. To Peter the Hermit is attributed the
honor of the first crusade. He was one of those who had undergone the sufferings and escaped the dangers of pilgrimage.
Of an ardent, enthusiastic character, he conceived the idea
of bringing an army of European Christians to rescue the
holy sepulchre. With this view he procured letters from the
patriarch of Jerusalem to the pope and the princes of Europe,
bewailing the captivity of the land hallowed as the scene of
the Savior's birth and life, and supplicating the aid of the
faithful to its deliverance. Peter the Hermit bore this mission to pope Urban, who replied that he would second the demand to the utmost of his power.  Peter did not rely on the
pope's support alone, but traversed Europe himself, preaching
in every city, depicting in indignant eloquence the sufferings
of Christian pilgrims, and the insolence of the Turk and
Saracen; representing, at the same time, the merit and advantages of acting upon such just resentment, and of marching, under the banner of the Lord, to the defence of his followers and the rescue of his holy sepulchre. The Greek emperor Alexis sent at the same time an embassy, demanding
aid against the infidel.  A council was held at Placentia to
take these important questions into consideration. It proved
not conclusive, however. The Italians, more civilized and
less superstitious than surrounding nations, from being near
to witness the little sanctity of the existing heads and fathers
of the church, as also from the spirit of freedom and commerce which had of late sprung up amongst them, were less
enthusiastic than the pope or hermit had hoped. They could
not sympathize with the general hatred against the Orientals,
with whom they at the time carried on a lucrative trade




1097.              THE FIRST CRUSADE.                   35
They raised neither vote nor acclamation in favor of trie ck.'
sade.
The council was, therefore, transferred prudently to a more
rude and more devout region.  Clern-ont, in Auvergne, was
that fixed on.  The knights, barons, and bishops of France
hurried, full of enthusiasm, to the rendezvous.  Peter the
Hermit first addressed the assembly with the heat of his
wonted eloquence. Pope Urban followed him, and the words
of the pontiff seemed more replete with unction than even
the hermit's. No motives of worldliness, of self, or prudence,
checked the enthusiasm of the assembly at Auvergne. TWhen
Urban, in the midst of his harangue, introduced the verse of
the Gospel, " Whosoever shall quit house, or father, or mother,
or wife, or lands, for my name, shall receive an hundred-fold,"
the whole audience interrupted the speaker with one burst
of assent; and the universal cry of" God wills it! God wills
it!" came from the crowd.  Urban took up the cry, and declared it to be immediately dictated by the Divinity.  It was
a miracle, a striking manifestation of the will of Heaven.
The painter's art, better than the historian's, might represent
the scene that occurred;-the holy frenzy, the devout resolve,
the tear of penitence, the rapt emotion.  The pope imposed
silence with his hand, and a form of general confession was
read to them openly, and repeated by them. They then arose.
The bishop of Puy was the first to assume the cross, and his
example was followed by every chief of importance present.
The brother of king Philip, the Count of Toulouse, Godfrey
of Bouillon, Duke of Lower Lorraine, and his brothers, and
Robert, Duke of Normandy, son of the Conqueror, were
amongst the most renowned undertakers of the crusade.  A
year's interval was allowed for the preparations necessary to
the expedition. The zeal of the hermit Peter could not tarry,
however, for the lapse of that time. He collected many thousands of the poorer adventurers, who bad neither affairs to
arrange nor estates to sell. At their head he set forth, following the course of the Danube, towards Constantinople. The
Greeks hastened to transport the tumultuous throng over the
Bosphorus.  In Asia they soon fell victims to their want of
discipline and means, and to the vengeance of the Turks. In
a few months after, the better-ordered army of the crusaders
marched under several commanders. In May 1097 they vanquished the soldan of Nicea in battle, avenging the rout of
Peter the Hermit and his followers.  In June of the following- year the crusaders were masters of Antioch; and in 1099
they made their victorious entry into Jerusalem, of which
Godfrey of Bouillon was declared the king.
W'-Vlo tlhe best blood and interets of France were thuli en3




3(               HIISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1108.
gaged in a chivalrous war, king Philip was occupied inl obscure quarrels with pope Urban and William Rufus of Eingland. In the last year of this century, finding his vigor decline, he associated his son Louis with him  in the government, and henceforth became a cipher. Philip died in 1108.
^eebleness and inertness mark the reign of the four first
Capetians. In the successor of Philip the race began to partake in the general activity of the age.
The reign of Louis VI., better known as Louis le Gros, or
the Fat, began in the lifetime of his predecessor. He was
the first French monarch that entertained any settled maxim
of government, or whose ideas reached a system of policy.
His predecessors had been the creatures, the followers, of
events. Louis knew how to control these. The whole effort
and aim of his reign was to reduce the barons of the duchy
of France to obedience.  His views did not extend to the
kingdom. He prudently limited his exertions to the counties
within or bordering upon his power. History may disdain to
recount minutely the wars carried on by Louis against the
barons of Montmorenci, whose castle rose within view of his
capital, or against the lords of Puiset, of Montlheri, or of
Couci, possessors of strong-holds within a few leagues of
Paris, from whence they were wont to sally forth to the plunder of travellers and merchants.'And yet, of all the wars
that adorn or sully the French annals, none were more wise
in aim, more useful or important in consequences, than these
petty enterprises of Louis. His first attempt was against the
Burchards, lords of Montmorenci, who were continually in
quarrel with the abbaye of St. Denis; and, if we are to believe the chronicles of the day, written for the most part in
that famous convent, the Montmorencis were impious spoliators and enemies of the church. Louis stood forth the chanpion of the clergy, and brought the Burchards to reason. His
next efforts were directed against the chateau of Montlheri
and its rapacious owners, who interrupted all communicationl
betwixt the royal towns of Paris and Orleans, greatly to the
detriment of commerce and the annoyance of the townsfolk,
Louis here took care to have a pretext also. He did not assert his royal authority, and arm to avenge it. It was as the
ally of the clergy that he subdued the Montmorencis; it was
as the fiiend of commerce, and the avenger of the plundered
burgesses, that he besieged Montlheri. Louis XI. did not use
more policy and feint in his undermining of the aristocracy,
than did Louis VI.; the latter, unfortunately for his own fame,
having only the smaller sphere of action.
Nevertheless, the name of Louis the Fat stand. (c:nnected
one of the most important revolutions in the civil his,




I. s,-8.                1liK: Raic.                  37
trry of France, viz. the enf-ancll;serlent of te c( mmnunes or
commons, as the early municipalities were celled. Fromn him
towns received their first charters; from his reign their first
liberties date. AWe have seen that, from t;e earliest perioa
of this history, the mass of the people enjoyed no inf:uence
or consideration. Utterly enslaved at first, the feudal system
somewhat improved their condition, and admitted them to
partial privileges.  Still the aristocracy pressed them down
with an iron hand. Serfs in the country, villains in the town,
their property and life were held under sufferance of the
seignior rather than as sacred rights. Man's natural pride
alone might cause him to revolt against such injustice: but
the towns of Europe were not without traditions of a more
equitable state of things.  They had enjoyed freedom  as
municipalities under the Roman empire; and, however politically dependent, all local authority had been exercised by
the civic council and magistrates.  To the remembrance of
these days the townsmen held with obstinacy. The precedent
was recorded, if not on parchment, at least in the hearts of
the oppressed. It was handed down from father to son; and
not all the ignorance and violence of the dark ages proved
sufficient to erase or tread out the old vestiges of municipa'
freedom. It happened, too, that the struggle betwixt church
and aristocracy was maintained more especially in towns.
The bishop and the count almost always disputed the sovereignty of the town; and popular rights, in consequence,
must have been at times invoked by the weaker party. In
Italy, where this struggle was fiercest, owing to the quarrels
betwixt pope and emperor, the cities took the earliest advantage of this position. The citizens, leagued together in their
own interest, formed communes or municipal councils, and,
balancing their attachment and support betwixt the contendiig parties, succeeded in establishing their independence.
Security thus gained from their rapacious masters, commerce,
wealth, order, respect,-the natural consequences of liberty
— were found to follow.  The south of France first caught
this spirit from their neighbors on the other side of the Alps.
The towns of Provence and Languedoc early erected themselves into little republics, more or less independent of neighboring princes, under the rule of their own conszds.  But
Languedoc or Provence could not as yet be considered as
tmaking part of the French monarchy.  Under Philip I. the
towns of the north began to imitate those of the south. Mantes, according to sonie, was the first commune; according to
others, Noyon. It was in the reign of Louis the Fat that the
communes openly asserted and established their civic privileges. The only revenues of that prince were dra.wn  fi'oie- lhis




38                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 11l5.
good cities; and it behoved him, on this account, to set them
free from the yoke of other masters or spoliators. The fonration of the civic magistracies and militia checked mightily
the arrogance of the barons: and Louis, without supposing in
him any principle of policy too profound or foreseeing for his
age, could not but perceive this tendency, and encourage it.
Beauvais, Noyon, Laon, Amiens, and Soissons, had all charters granted them by Louis the Fat.  In some towns the
bishops favored, in some they opposed, the enfranchisement
of the commons.  The barons were in general averse.  The
hing was obliged to wage a tedious war against the family of
Couci, which, by means of a fortress, kept possession of the
town of Amiens.  He at length took and razed it; and the
seigniory of the De Coucis merged in the township of Amiens.
It was not merely by military exploits, and by the elevation
of the tiers etat or third estate, that the royal authority progressed during the reign of Louis VI. The judicial authority
attributed to the monarch by the feudal system, and exercised
by him in his court or council of peers, made him the arbiter
of disputed successions. It was thus that Philip I. had extended his influence over the province of Berri. His son
Louis interfered in the quarrels of the house of Bourbon,
where a minor struggled against the usurpation of his uncle.
Louis entered the Bourbonnois with an army in 1115, took
Germigny, the principal fortress of Aymon of Bourbon, and
compelled him to submit. Not since the early Carlovingians
had the banners of a king of France been seen so far fiom
his capital.  The continued rivalry betwixt the Normans or
English, and the French, excited and kept alive the warlike
spirit of both nations. Henry I. reigned in England, and also
in Normandy, which he had usurped from his brother Robert.
Louis took the part of the latter, as well as of his son William; and mutual wars, or rather ravages, were fiequent,
with intervals of peace, betwixt the nations.
One event that occurred during these wars marks stiongly
the cruel spirit of the age:-Henry I. was struggling against
an insurrection of the Norman barons in favor of his nephew:
this was the moment chosen by the Count of Breteuil to demand of the king the fortress of Ivry, which adjoined his possessions.  The count had married Henry's natural daughter
Jlliana, and hence esteemed'that he had a claim upon his
generosity. It was not the moment to refuse the demand of
a noble.  Henry, however, was re..uctant to give up Ivry;
but, in order to content Breteuil, he ordered Harenc, the
royal governor of the town, to deliver up his son to the lord'f Breteuil; at the same time making the count deliver hie
roiia'nrer. yV Juliana, as counter-hostages, to his own keeping.




1121.     DEFEAT OF LOUIS AT BRENNEVILLE.             39
He thus insured that Harenc would not rally from his place
of command, or otherwise make use of it to annoy or injure
the Count of Breteuil. The latter, however, was not satisfied
with the arrangement. He laid siege to the fortress of Ivry,
and threatened to put his hostage, the governor's son, to death,
n case the latter did not surrender his trust. Breteuil reasoned that his children would, at all events, be safe in the
custody of their grandfather. Harenc would not deliver Ivry
and the Count of Breteuil, in pursuance of his threat, put out
the eyes of his young hostage. Raoul de Harenc flew to the
feet of Henry, and, in the rage of sorrow and resentment,
demanded the daughters of his enemy, that he might use the
terrible right of reprisal. Henry hesitated. The monarch
was cruelly situated: but the ideas of feudal justice prevailed in his mind over attachment to his kin. The monarch
delivered his grandchildren, the daughters of the Count of
Breteuil, and Harene tore out their eyes, and cut off their
noses, in execution of the vengeance that he deemed just.
The principal feat of the war betwixt Henry and Louis
was produced by accident. The two kings, each at the head
of some five hundred knights, encountered one another in
the plain of Brenneville. An engagement ensued, in which
Louis was routed, and most of the French made prisoners.
Only three were killed: to such perfection had defensive
armor been brought-so much had war sunk to the mimicry
of a tournament. Another enterprise of Louis, in the year
1121, marks the rapid increase of the king's influence. A
few years since he had established his authority in the Bour
bonnois: now he extended it to Auvergne.  In a quarrel betwixt the count and bishop of Clermont, the latter appealed
to Louis, who summoned the count to his supreme court, and,
on his refusal to appear, marched with an army and subdued
him, as he had previously the lord of Bourbon. The counts
of Anjou and of Nevers aided him in the expedition. They
felt no reluctance in carrying into effect the decrees of that
court of peers of which they formed a part. Louis VI. died
in 1137. It is strange that history could find for this monarch
no epithet save that of the Fat, at the same time that it records innumerable proofs of a talented mind, of an active and
enterprising spirit.
Towards the conclusion of this monarch's reign, fortune
came to reward and crown his efforts for the extension of
the royal authority.  William, Count of Poitiers, about to
undertake a pilgrimage, from which he had the presentiment
that he never should return, offered his daughter Eleonora in
marriage to Louis the Young, son of Louis the Fat.  She
was the heiress of her father's possessions, which surpassed




.10               hISTORY OF FRANCE.                1147
in extent and importance those of the king' of France h'i:
self, comprising Guienne and Poitou,-all the country, in fact
betwixt the Loire and the Adour.  The marriage was cele
brated at Bourdeaux; and soon after it arrived tidings of the
deaths both of the king and of the Count of Poitiers. Thus
Louis VII., or the Young, succeeded to dominions and au.
thority infinitely more ample than those which his father had
inherited. But the want of talent in the son did away witlh
all these advantages. Nevertheless he commenced his reion
with spirit. He chastised several refractory nobles, and resolved to support the queen's rights to the county of Toulouse.
Louis besieged that town. He failed in taking it, indeed:
but the king of France, at the head of an army, made his
name and power known for the first time to the inhabitants
of the south. During a war carried on about the same time
against Thibaud, Count of Champagne, an accident occurred,
which had a marked effect upon the future conduct and character of Louis the Young. He had taken by storm the castle
of Vitry, and set fire to it. The flames chanced to catch the
neighboring church, into which the population had crowded,
to preserve themselves from the fury of the soldiery.  It ap.
pears that they had no means of escape. Thirteen hundred
men, women, and children, perished in the conflagration.
Louis was horror-struck on beholding the mass of half-consumed bodies, and the weight of the remorse hung ever aftei
upon him, and weighed down his spirit. It was the chief
cause that induced him to assume the cross, and to lead thal
expedition to Jerusalem  which is known in history as the
second crusade.
Edessa, one of the principal towns possessed and garrisoneo
by the French in Palestine, was taken by the sultan of Aleppo,
and the inhabitants put to the sword.  The tidings stirred ul
all Christendom to vengeance. Assemblies and councils were
called, and a final one met at Vezelay, in which the enthusiasm of that of Clermont was equalled. The celebrates
Saint Bernard was the eloquent haranguer upon this occasion
and filled the place of Peter the Hermit; having, however
unlike his predecessor, the good sense to refuse the conduct
of the expedition when it was offered to him.  The emperoi
Conrad and Louis VII. each led an army of upwards of a
hundred thousand men through the valley of the Danube to
Constantinople.  No sooner, however, had they passed into
Asia, than the Germans, who preceded the French, were
routed and cut to pieces. The army of the latter took a more
circuitous path, but scarcely with better fortune.  One half
of their number was cut off; the rest reached Satalia, a seaport opposite to Cyprus, where the king and his nobles, weary




a147.             THE SECOND CRUSADE.                    41
of the tedious march by land, took shipping ibo  Palestine,
leaving their followers to make the best of their way on foot,
without guide or leader.  All that remained perished.  And
of the two hundred thousand warriors who had left the west
of Europe, bold of spirit and resplendent in arms, Louis only,
with a band of some hundred of cavaliers, reached the H-oly
Land. The ignominy of this ill success, and the desertion of
nis followers, fell upon king Louis; and lie felt it, not to rally
nd redeem his character, but to sink under the shame.  lie
bandoned the feelings of the monarch and the warrior for
those of the pilgrim; refused at first to undertake any enterprise against the infidels; and stole from Antioch to Jerusaem  like a craven. If his subjects were discontented with
such weakness in their sovereign, Eleonora of Aquitaine was
still more disgusted with such a husband: she refused longer
to remain on any friendly terms with him.  The historians
of France, who detest the memory of her who transferred
half the provinces of the kingdom  to the Plantagenets, accuse her of lightness of conduct on this occasion; but their
testimony is much to be mistrusted.  Not a single feat of
arms marked the stay of Louis in Palestine, where lie lingered
until 1149, ashamed to return.  He did so at length, and it
was to show that all prudence had forsaken him as well as
courage. The quarrel betwixt him  and Eleonora was at its
height.  He withdrew  his garrisons from Aquitaine, more
in spite than policy.  A divorce was pronounced betwixt the
spouses by an assembly of prelates at Beaugency, and Eleonora soon after married Henry II. of England, bringing with
her the rich dowry of her inheritance.
H-ence dates the rivalry betwixt the kings, which fills up
the rest of their reigns.  In perusing their history, and be
holding the superior activity, talents, and power of the Engtish monarch, we expect to see him crush his rival and usurp
his place.  But in that age war tended more to mutual annoyance than-to conquest: it was a livelihood to the needy, a
portion to the powerful; and neither were very serious or
bent upon the destruction of an enemy.  A prisoner that
could afford a large ransom, was chiefly looked to by each
soldier in the event of a battle. Feudal rights and supremacy
were also held in high respect; and the name of suzerain,
though but a name, often supplied to Louis the place of the
armies of his vassal Henry. In time the church came to fling
itself into the scale. The persecution and murder of Thomas
t Becket roused all the clergy in enmity to Henry, and Lolis
took advantage of their aid. Later still, the French monarch
used the more un-vorthy expedient of- exciting the sons Qf
[fenry to rebel aofainst their oarent; and throughout, he con~




42                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  180
trived to supply by intrigue what he wanted in martial spirit,
activity, and power. Although the divorce of Eleorora deprived Louis of the possession of Aquitaine, still the marriage was not useless to him: it made the monarch's name to
be. known, and his authority invoked, in the south. WVhei
Henry endeavored to make good those same rights of Eleonora upon Toulouse that Louis himself had supported, the
latter took the part of the Toulousans, and defeated the intentions of his rival. And he was equally successful in support of the people of Auvergne.  Louis VII. was long without a son, and at length obtained one by dint of prayer.
WVhen the life of the prince was threatened by a fever, the
anxious parent undertook a pilgrimage to Canterbury, to the
tomb of St. Thomas a Beclet, for his recovery. The young
Philip recovered; but:Louis, on his return, was struck with
a palsy, under. which he lingered for the space of a year, and
died in 1180.
Two centuries had now  elapsed since the accession of
Hugh Capet. At that period France was dividedl into a thousand petty states, each shut up in its barbarism. Selfishness
violence, and want of faith, were general characteristics.
Courage was the only virtue prized; independence the only
boon sought after. Now, however, a union, a concentration,
had taken place. The unforeseen development of the feudal
system had raised the king supreme above the aristocracy,
and this, together with other carises, amongst which the crusades rank foremost, had assimilated the formerly disjointed
parts of the state, and given a general bond of symrpathy to
the nation.  Social habits and frequent intercourse excited
emulation of a kind less coarse and more varied than the
mere struggle betwixt strong and weak. The creation of
wealth and luxury suggested the more refined wants of the
imagination and the heart. Selfishness and fraud gave way
to the chivalrous virtues. A general tendency to enthusiasm
and devotion distinguished the rising age  and both were ex.
treme, to whatever object directed, whether towards religion,
towards royalty, or to the fairer sex.
Philip Augustus, who was about fifteen years of age when
he began to reign, was already the nursling of court adula.
tion and homage. His predecessors had not attained dignity
sufficient to expose them to this bane of the royal nature.
Congratulations, couched in the language of oriental hyper
bole, had greeted his birth. He was styled the Dieu-donne,
the august; and self-constituted laureates began already tcelebrate the majesty of the monarch of the French. Formerly, the surrounding nobles had disdained to dispute court
favor or influence; L, ut the first years of' Philip's reign were




1 ]90              THE THIRD CRUSADE.                    43
taken up with the rivalry of the houses of' Flanders and
Champagne, which each sought to be the masters and ministers of the young sovereign. Henry II. of England gave his
support to the Counts of Champagne, and the partisans of
Flanders were obliged to retire from Paris.  They formed a
league, and menaced war; but Philip, with the English monarch's aid, easily overcame the malcontents.  Henry showed
generosity on this occasion.  Instead of profiting by the divisions of the French, and keeping them alive, he frankly supported the young king against his refiactory barons. He was
a king himself, and sympathized with royalty. Philip ill repaid
this kindness: he imitated his father's policy in seducing the
sons of the English monarch from their allegiance; and their
frequent ingratitude at length broke the heart of the sensitive and passionate monarch.  Richard, Duke of Aquitaine,
known as Coeur de Lion, and his father's successor on the
throne, was the especial friend and ally of Philip in these
quarrels; and for a long time the princes shared the same
tent and the same bed.
Meantime a third crusade began to be preached.  This
prevalent enthusiasm, like the rebellions of an. oppressed yet
brave people, was sure to arouse itself and reawaken as soon
as time had elapsed sufficient to allow the disasters of the
past to be forgotten.  Saladin had recently taken Jerusalem.
Fugitives instantly filled Europe with the dismal tidinos.
The cry for a crusade became general: it was no longer,
however, the church that called a council to debate and decide upon the question; another power had arisen to rob the
clergy of their initiative.  The king called a parlement of
his barons at Gisors, and there a third crusade was determined upon. Coeur de Lion was the first to assume the cross;
and king Philip, only hurt at leing anticipated, followed his
example. Frederic Barbarossa also took the same resolution.
That emperor died, owing to imprudently bathing in a river
of Asia Minor, ere he reached the Holy Land.
In June of the year 1190, Philip Augustus received th
pllg'rim's scrip and staff from  the hands of the abbot of St
Denis. Richard received his at Tours; and it was remarked
as an omen, that, as he leaned on the staff, it broke under hi
weight. In order to avoid the disasters of former crusades,
they were to proceed to Palestine by sea.  The two kings
wintered in Sicily on their voyage thither, and there laid the
fbundation of their future jealousy and hate. The crusaders
found the barons of Syria engaged in the siege of Acre.
Their arrival hastened its surrender, and at the same time
marked it "lith crime. Richard callse( upwards of two thousand captiv s to 1he massacred in cold blood, and Philip was




44                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  1195
guilty of a similar piece of cruelty.  The monarchs, indeed,
haad some slight breach of stipulations to allege, or might excuse their conduct as a reprisal for that of Saladin, who put
to death many of the prisoners whom he made at the battle
of Tiberias, more especially all those whose tonsure marked
them  to belongo to the order of the Templars.  It was thul
that the ferocity of oriental manners came to alloy the more
eoerous spirit of chivalry. In Palestine the French learned
to be sanguinary and merciless towards their religious enenmies, and hence it was that the fair page of their history was
soon afterwards stained by the massacre of those whom they
called heretics at horne.
Philip Augustus could not long endure the superior renown
and prowess of Cceur de Lion.  He seized the pretext of an
illness to quit Palestine and abandon the field of glory to his
rival.  Returning home, lie besought the pope to release him
from the oath which bound him to respect the rig'hts and territories of a brother crusader.  The pontiff refused: but
Philip felt himself sufficiently absolved by the Machiavelian
law of monarchical policy. And fortune, in making Richard
fall captive to the Duke of Austria, in his return from the
Holy Land, seemed to favor the envious designs of the French
monarch.  Philip no sooner was informed of Richard's captivity, than he leagued with his brother John, and invaded
Normandy.  He took several towns and castles, but was repulsed from before Rouen.  At length Richard was released,
or, as Philip wrote to his confederate, "the devil broke loose."
We expect on this occasion to read of a furious war betwixt
the sovereigns.  And yet no brilliant feat, no general engagement, marked that which ensued.  Petty treason and
short truce, varied by a skirmishl or a marauding party, were
all the effects produced by the envy of Philip and the resentment of the lion-hearted king. The death of the latter by an
arrow-shot, as he besieged a castle in the Limousin, left a
less formidable rival to Philip in the person of king John.
The writer of fiction never imauined a baser character
than that of John. His cowardice and meanness form a phenomenon and an exception in the feudal ages.  The nullity
of such a rival converted Philip Aug'ustus from the powerless
intriguer to the conqueror and the hero.  The latter, who
knew the character of John, no sooner heard of his succession than he prepared to take advantage of it.  And yet intrigue was the first weapon he employed.  As he had seduced Richard from  his father's allegiance, and John from
that of Richard, Philip now espoused the cause of Arthur of
Britany, tne nephew of John, proclaiming his right not only
to Britany, but to Poitou, Anjou, and Touraiie. WVar ensued,




1i04.        CONQUEST OF CONSTANTINOPLE.                 4 
during which chance made Arthur prisoner to his uncle. All
acquainted with the pagoes of Shalspeare know too well the
young prince's fate. Philip was in the mean time checked in
his projects by the court of Rome, which had laid an interdict upon him, on account of his divorce from Ingeburga of
Denmark.  And the preaching of a fourth crusade about the
same time took fiom him  the interest and the aid of many
nobles and chevaliers.  This expedition scarcely belongs to
our history.  It was undertaken in concert with the Venetians; but, instead of contributing to the defeat of the Saracens, the crusaders turned their forces against the Greek
emperor, and made themselves masters of Constantinople,
where they established a Latin dynasty.  By the taking and
sack of Constantinople the cavaliers of the West did more
injury to the Christian cause than ever their victories in
Palestine worked detriment to the power of the followers of
Mahomet.
Philip was, during the same interval, engaged in the conquest of Normandy, which the imbecility and cowardice of
John delivered to his arms without defence. Roger de Lascy
held the fortress of Andelys for several months against the
French, and was the only valiant servitor of an unworthv
monarch.  The barons and warriors of England disdained to
fight under his banner. There was as yet none of that rivalry
which afterwards sprang up betwixt the nations.  The mon
archs of both were French princes, speaking the French
tongue: and, although subsequent historians have given a
national color to the combats and conquests of Philip, the
struggle was almost purely personal.  Rouen, the capital of
Normnandy, surrendered to him (1204), without John's making
a single effort to preserve it. And thus a few xears of the
reign of one weak prince more than counterbalanced the longestablished superiority of the monarchs of England.
It has been seen what use the French monarchs made of
their courts of peers, and of the judicial supremacy allowed
them, in extending their authority over barons heretofore inIependent.  Philip dared to apply the same principle to the
dukes of Normandy, which his father had successfully done
w-ith regard to the counts of Bourbon and Auvergne.  He
summoned John before his suzerain court, to answer for the
murder of Arthur and other crimes.  Henry II., or Richard,
would have given fit answer to such a summons.  The Norman princes always held their homage to be that by parade
or courtesy, not homrage-l'eg'e.  But John had neither the
sense of his dignity, nor the spirit to maintain it. He allowed
the jurisdiction of Philip's court, though lie feared to obey
his summlons; and he thus seemed to allow a legal right to




46                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1204
the. usurpations of Philip.  The latter, indeed, appeared ta
feel the want of dignity in the assessors of his court. All
nobles holding their lands directly of the king were peers in
his parliament; and thus the petty lords of the counties of
Paris and Orleans ranked equally with the dukes of Burgundy or the counts of Flanders. Philip remedied this, by
appointing twelve great peers, or rather by pretending that
such a number had always existed since the twelve paladins
of Charlemagne.  Of these, six were clerics, six laics; the
latter being the dukes of Normandy, of Aquitaine, of Burgundy, the counts of Toulouse, Flanders, and Champagne.
This division of the aristocracy in the high and low nobility,
was, however, as yet but nominal; the lesser barons still continued to consider themselves as the peers of the greater, and
to have an equal voice in the royal courts.  It is important
for the reader to mark the rise of this feudal institution, and
equally so to mark the difference of its fate and progress in
France and in England.  In the former country, the parlement became amalgamated with lawyers, and preserved to
the last its judicial functions, whilst its legislative authority
became but a shadow. In England on the contrary, it guarded
the more precious privilege of legislation, abandoning a considerable portion of its judicial rights.
By the discomfiture of John, Philip Augustus united to the
monarchy of France not only Normandy, but the provinces
of Maine, Anjou, Touraine, and Poitou.  Artois he had acquired as the dowry of his wife, Isabella of Hainault.  The
counties of the south remained still independent of his sway.
They looked to the king of Aragon as their suzerain; and
there existed far more congeniality of feelings and habits betwixt the Spaniards and Provencals, than betwixt the Pro.
vencals and French. Certain events of the reign of Philip,
which we are about to relate, destroyed the independence of
the people of the south, as well as their connexion with the
Aragonese, and extended the authority of the French monrch to the Mediterranean and the Pyrenees.
Whilst Philip Augustus adroitly wrested Normandy and
ts dependencies from the hands of John, a series of events
ook place in Languedoc, which had the effect of destroying
ts independence, and of bringing that fine region not only
nominally, as it had hitherto been, but really under the dominion of the kings of France.  The countries bordering on
the Mediterranean had ever been foremost in the path of
civilization.  They were?till so.  The inhabitants of that
part of France so situated fil surpassed their northern neighbors in refinement, in enlighltenment, and wealth. A thriving
commerce was the chief source of these advantages, joined




1204.              T-IE ALBIGENSES.                      47
with the municipal liberty, which they enjoyed even to a
greater degree than countries around them.'The towns were
governed by consuls, like those of Italy; and, being' freed
from either papal or imperial pretensions, were ifr more tranquil than the republics of that land. The feudal lords lived
in amity with the bourgeoisie, and shared its wealth; communicating at the same time to the middling ranks no small
portion of their own chivalrous spirit.  Little agitated, at
least for that age, by the tumults and contentions of war,
the Proveneals gave themselves to the cultivation of those
intellectual employments which wealth and leisure, peace
and a fine climate, suggest.  In their valleys the muse of
m-odern times had taken birth.  They were the first poets of
modern tongues. Nor did the troubadours confine their strains
to the celebration of heroic deeds or the pleadings of love;
they were moralists and satirists, and undertook to lash as
well as to amuse the age.  The church was the chief object
of their alternate ridicule and resentment.  Dante and Petrarch, as well as our own Chaucer, afford samples of this
spirit.  They exclaimed against the licentious lives of the
clergy; rallied them on their rigid upholding of abstract
dorgmas, and their lax observance of moral ones.  The troubadours stood forth as the asserters and avengers of common
sense.  And thus the earliest of modern poets perhaps merit
the honor of being esteemed the first reformers.
The speculations of the theologian and the scruples of the
devout soon came to swell a passing disgust into permanent
dissent.  A numerous sect sprung up in Languedoc, which,
abjuring much of the corrupt morality and absurd tenets of
the Romish church, was led of course to deny the authority
of the pope and of his priesthood. For a long time the Holy
See seemed not alive to the importance of this sect.  It was
pope Innocent PI f. who first perceived its dangerous tendency,
and who took certain steps for its destruction. HIe issued interdicts against such princes as should favor them, and offered
the spoil of the heretic to whoever should subdue and slay him.
The principal lord of the south of France was at that time
Raymond VL. count of Toulouse; and he at least tolerated
the Albigc.rses, as those primitive reformers were called,
aware of lteir moral purity and sincere devotion.  Peter of
Castlenmi, the pope's legate, reproached the count of Toulouse withl his want of zeal, and was indignant at his forbearance to extirpate the new opinions by fire and sword. The
legate used no measured language; he not only excommunicated Raymond, but insulted him in his court, and then took
his departure.  The count of Toulouse expressed his indignant feelings bcfore his followers as Henry II. did after the




4 t                IHISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1200
insolence of Thomas i Becket, and with the same fatal effect.
On the day after, Peter of Castlenau fell under the dagger
of a gentleman of the count's, in a hostelry on the Rhone
where he had stopped.
Pope Innocent was driven to transports of rage on learning
the assassination of his legate. He not only excommunicated
the count of Toulouse, but promulgated a crusade against
him.  H-e called on all the nobles of Prance, on its princes
and its prelates, to join in the holy war, to assume the cross,
as being engaged against infidels.  And the same privileges
and indulgences were granted to the crusaders of this civil
war, that previously were bestowed on those who embarked
fortune and life in the perilous attempt to rescue the Holy
Land from  the Saracen.  Spoil, wealth, and honor in this
world, together with certain salvation in the next, were now
offered at too cheap a rate to be refused.  Crowds of adventurers flocked to the standard; and a formidable army was
assembled at Lyons in the spring of 1209, under the command of the legate conmmander, Amairic abbot of Citeaux.
The pope at the same time created a new ecclesiastical militia
for the destruction of heresy. The order of St. Dominick,
or of the friars inquisitors, was instituted; and these infernal
missionaries were let loose in couples upon the hapless Languedoc, like bloodhounds, to scent their prey and then devour it.
Raymond count of Toulouse had neither the force nor the
courage to oppose so formidable an invasion.  He repaired te
the crusaders' army, delivered up his fortresses and cities,
and suffered the humiliating penance of a public flogging in
the church of St. Giles.  Tie count's relative and feudatory,
Raymond Roger viscount of Beziers and Carcassonne, regions
infected with the heresy of the Albigenses, came also to make
submission. The?bbot of Citeaux, who was prudent enough
to accept that of the count of Toulouse, feared to lose all his
prey.  He refused to admit the exculpation of the viscount
of Beziers, and plainly told hiim that his only chance was to
defend himself to the utmost.  The young viscount courareously accepted the advice.  He summoned the most faithful
of his vassals, abandoned the open country as well as towns
of lesser consequence to the enemy, and restricted his efforts
to the defence of Beziers and of Carcassonne. He shut hIimself up in the latter.  The fury of the crusaders first fell
upon Beziers: they had scarcely sat down before the unfortunate town, when a sally of the garrison was repulsed with
such vigor that the besiegers entered the town together with
the routed host of the citizens.  Word of this unexpected
suiccess was instantlv brou, lht to the ablbot of Citeaux, lnd




1217.             SIMON DE MONT'ORT.                     4I
his orders were demanded as to how the innocent were to be
distinguished from  the guilty. " Slay them all," exclaimed
the legate of the vicar of Christ; "tile Lord will know his
own."  The entire population was in consequerce put to the
sword; nor woman nor infant was spared.  Jpwards of
20,000 human beings perished in the massa re —tlhe sanguinary first fruits of modern persecution. Carcassonne was
next invested, bravely attacked, and as valiantly defended:
the young viscount distinguishing himself in defence of hi.>
rights, while Simon de Montfbrt earl of Leicester was the
most prominent warrior of the crusaders. At length the
legate grew weary of the viscount's obstinacy, and offered hinl
terms.  He gave him a safe-conduct, sanctioned by his oxwn
oath and that of the barons of his army.  Raymond Roger
camne with 800 of his followers to the tent of the legate.
"Faith," said the latter,   is not to be kept with those who
hatve no faith;" and he ordered the viscount and his friends
to be put in chains.  The inhabitants of Carcassonne found
means to fly. In a general assembly of the crusaders, the
lordships of Beziers and Carcassonne were given to Simon
of I',ontfort, in reward of his zeal and valor; and to make
the gift sure, it was accompanied with the person of his rival.
The unfortunate viscount, the victim of the legate's perfidy,
soon after perished in prison.
The victory of the crusaders was of course followed by
executions at the stake and on the scaffold.  The friars inquisitors of the order of St. Dominick did not relax their zeal.
A general revolt against De Montfort was the consequence,
in which the people of Toulouse joined.  The Provencal
army was headed by Peter king of Aragon, the uncle of the
late viscount of Beziers. It was he who had persuaded the
unfortunate viscount to trust himself to the leg'ate, and to him
in consequence fell the duty of taking vengeance. The cross,
however-the profaned cross-was still successful. The Provenals were routed by Simon de Montfort at the battle of
Mluret, and the king of Aragon was slain.  This victory
seemed to establish the power of De Montfort in Languedoc.
iHe took possession of all the provinces of his rival, even of
the town of Toulouse; and an assembly of prelates sanctioned the usurpation.  Bult the cruel spirit of De Montfort
would not allow him to rest quiet in his new empire.  Violence and persecution marked his rule; he sought to destroy
the Provencal population by the sword or the stake, nor could
lie bring himself to tolerate the liberties of the citizens of Toulouse. In 1217 the Toulousans again revolted, and war once
more broke out betwixt count Raymond and Simon de Mioontf:rt. lThe latter formedl the sie;e of the capital, and was en



;50               nHISTOnRY Or- FRANCE.                1214.
raged in repelling a sally, when a stone from one of the walls:truck him and put an end to his existence.  The death of
De Montfirt was of course considered a martyrdom by the.lergy, and his fame in their chronicles far outshines that of
Godfrey of Bouillon or of Richard the Lion-hearted.
King Philip was in the mean time pursuing his darling object, the humbling the power of the princes of England. lie
had already driven John from  the west of France.  That
monarch, at variance with his barons, and at the same time
excommunicated by the church, seemed an easy prey to
Philip.  The French l'ng meditated the conquest of Eng'
land. lie leagued with;he malcontents of that country, and
bfrmed a powerful army for the purposes of invasion.  John,
to ward off the blow, not only became reconciled to the Roman see, but made himself and his kingdom feudatory to the
pope. A papal legate immediately took John under his protection; and the French monarch, rather than risk a quarrel
with the church, turned iis armies towards Flanders, which
he wasted and plundered impitiably, from hatred to its count.
The emperor Otho, then in alliance with king John against
France, came to the relief of the Flemings; and thus, for
the first time since the accession of the new dynasty, the
armies of France and Germany found themselves arrayed
against each other in national hostility, each commanded by
its respective monarch.  The rival hosts met at Bouvines, in
the month of August 1214. Twenty thousand combatants on
either side, together with the presence of two monarchs,
gave gravity and importance to the action.  It was sharply
contested.  Wherever the armed knight met the comparatively defenceless burgess, the latter was defeated; the militia
of the commons had not yet acquired discipline and hardihood
sufficient to compete with the iron-clad warriors of the aristocracy.  It was thus the cavalry of Otho broke through a
band of militia, and reaching' ingn  Philip, threw  him  from
his horse, and would have killed him, but for the excellence
of his armor and the devotion of several brave followers. The
emperor Otho, on his side, encountered equal peril from the
French knights, and escaped with difficulty from  the field.
The rebel counts of Boulogne and, Flanders both were made
prisoners.  The army of Philip gained a complete victory.
Bouvines was the first important battle of the monarchy; the
first in which the king appeared in his place, at the head of
his barons, leading them  on to conquest.  It materially increased the dignity and authority of the French king; whilst,
to Philip Augustus personally, it brought not only its just
meed to praise, but an exaggerated port )n of renown.
The brillifant success of Bouvines seet _ lo have contented




1223.         DEATH OF PHILIP AUGUSTUS.               51
and allayed the hitherto restless ambition of Philip. In a
year or two after, the barons of England, discontented with
John, offered their crown  to Louis, the son of Philip
Augustus. The old monarch  hesitated; he dreaded the
anathema with which the pope threatened him, if he attacked
his vassal, John of England. Prince Louis was obliged to
undertake the expedition with but scanty aid from his parent.
He was at first successful. Almost all England owned his
sovereignty. The castle of Dover alone held out. But the
death of John, which took place during the siege, and the
proclaiming of his son, Henry III., soon obliged the French
prince to abandon his claim and his conquests in England.
In the south, Philip Augustus showed himself equally dead
to enterprise and lost in spirit. Amaury de Montfort, son of
Simon, offered to cede to the king all his rights in Languedoc,
which he was unable to defend against the old house of Toulouse. Philip hesitated to accept the important cession, and
left the rival houses to the continuance of a struggle carried
feebly on by either side. He at length expired, in 1223, after
a reign of forty-three years. This period of half a century
was one of uninterrupted progress to the French monarchy,
and to its sovereign power. Though much of this was due
to the age, to circumstances, and to the natural development
of the country's political system, still much remains due to
the personal character of Philip,-to his activity, his prudence,
foresight, and courage. The mere list of the provinces which
he subdued and united to the monarchy forms the fittest
monument to his fame. These were Normandy, Maine, Anjou, Touraine, and Poitou, wrested from John; Picardy and
Auvergne, won in the commencement of his reign; Artois,
acquired by his marriage with Isabella of Hainault; and,
finally, the influence over Languedoc which the crusaders
brought him, and which nothing but Philip's age and declining strength prevented him from converting into sovereignty.
In minror matters the active spirit of Philip Augustus equally
displayed itself. He put the police on an efficient footing;
he walled and paved Paris and the principal towns undei his
sway; he built and fortified; he encouraged literature by the
foundation of professorships; improved the discipline of the
army; and, with all his enterprises and expenses, so ordered
his finances as to leave a considerable treasure at his death.
When Louis VIII. succeeded his father Philip on the
throne, it was remarked with joy by the lovers of legitimacy,
that he was descended by his mother, Isabella of Hainault,
from Charles of Lorraine, the last prince of Charlemagne's
blood, and that he thus united the rights of Carlovingian and
Capetian.  HIe was feeble in person, and is said not to have
4




52               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1223
been endowed with much capacity; but the sage policy of
Philip Augustus, together with the impulse he had given to
aflhirs, continued to direct them, and to render France triumphant over her enemies. Henry III. lost the towns of
Niort and La Rochelle, and was driven by Louis from Poitou;
yet so little did the English feel the loss of this province,
that it is scarcely noticed by the historians of the island. The
)a.rons were so much occupied with jealousy of their sovereign and of his power, that Henry could procure or send no
a ii to his French provinces. A feeble expedition was at.ength fitted out, which preserved Gascony to England, but
reicovered no part of the lost province.
A singular cause of contention arose about this time in
Inlanders. Baldwin, its last count, had been one of the leaders
of that crusade, which, in the commencement of the century,
took Constantinople from the Greeks. He had been elected
emperor of the East, and had been the first of the Latin dynasty which reigned over that city. Soon after, in the year
1205, he had been taken prisoner by the Bulgarians, and had
not since been heard of. His daughter Jeanne succeeded to
the county of Flanders, and had married Ferrand, who had
opposed Philip Augustus, and who was taken prisoner by that
monarch at the battle of Bouvines. Jeanne took no steps to
liberate her husband, or to pay his ransom, when an aged
man appeared in Flanders, calling himself count Baldwin,
and giving an account of his long captivity and recent escape
from the Bulgarians. Jeanne denied the identity of this person with her father; Louis VIII. was of the same opinion;
while Henry III. treated and allied with him as the veritable
Baldwin. The self-entitled count appeared before king Louis
at Peronne, offering proofs of his identity; but unfortunately
he could not recall the place where he had done homage tc
Philip Augustus, nor the place where he had been knighted,
nor yet the place and day of his marriage. Whether he
really could not make answer to these questions, or whether
age had troubled his memory, the old man was condemned ai
a pretender, and the countess Jeanne soon after caused hin
to be hanged. The comrmon people still persisted in giving
credit to his identity with count Baldwin, and looked or.
Jeanne as the murderer of her father. Henry III. in no way
supported this his unfortunate ally.
The sovereignty over Languedoc was still undecided.
King Louis was anxious to undertake a crusade in that country, with all the indulgences and advantages of a warlike
pilgrimage to the Holy Land. The hostilities with England
and the fickleness of the pope delayed the execution of this
purpose. Both obstacles were removed at length. Ainauiy




!226.             DEATH OF LOUIS VIII.                 53
de Montfort being driven from the conquests of his father by
the sons of count Raymond, reanimated the zeal of the pope
and the old crusaders. Amaury retired to Paris, and made
cession of his claims to king Louis, who, in return, promised
him the office of constable. A new crusade was preached
against the Albigenses; and Louis marched towards Languedoc at the head of a formidable army, in the spring of the
year 1226. The town of Avignon had proffered to the crusaders the facilities of crossing the Rhone under her walls,
but refused entry within them to such a host. Louis, having
arrived at Avignon, insisted on passing through the town:
the Avignonais shut their gates, and defied the monarch, who
instantly formed the siege. One of the rich municipalities
of the south was almost a match for the king of France. He
was kept three months under its walls; his army a prey to
famine, to disease, and to the assaults of a brave garrison.
The crusaders lost twenty thousand men. The people of
Avignon at length submitted, but on no dishonorable terms.
This was the only resistance that Louis experienced in Languedoc. Raymond VII. dared not meet the crusaders in the
field, nor durst one of his towns or chateaux remain faithful
to him. All submitted. Louis retired from his facile conquest; he himself, and the chiefs of his army, stricken by an
epidemy which had prevailed in the conquered regions. The
monarch's feeble frame could not resist it: he expired at
Montpensier in Auvergne, in November, 1226.
CHAP. III.
1226-1325.
FROM THE ACCESSION OF ST. LOUIS, TO THAT OF THE RACE
OF VALOIS.
DURING the reign of the first Capetians, the royal power
was shown to be at its lowest ebb. With Louis the Fat it
began to rise.  One of the great feudatories, the duke of
Normandy, a king himself, grew to rival and overshadow the
monarch of France.  In the struggle which ensued betwixt
them, the lesser barons rallied to one side or the other; and
came to acknowledge and be accustomed in the field to the
supremacy of a master, which they were inclined to deny in
their own castles and domains. The crusades, the rise of the
commons, that of luxury, and many other circumstances,
added still greater force to this cause of royal enhancement.
And when Philip Augustus brought the war to a conclusion




54                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1226
by the conquest of Normandy, he was not only triumphan
over king John, but,-a victory of equal importance,-he
found himself paramount to all his powerful vassals, and in a
condition to enforce his ro yal authority.
To strengthen and extend this authority was the continued
and successful policy of Philip Augustus and his son. To
consolidate and legalize it, was the task of St. Louis, who
succeeded them.  Philip, indeed, though he found the sword
to be the most efficient sceptre, was not blind to the commodiousness of legal forms and judgments, as the instruments
of his sovereign power. A decree, issued by a few attached
barons in his court of peers, seemed to come from the aristocracy, not from him, and was therefore obeyed with less re-,uctance. The advantages of a judicial body that might act
is arbiter betwixt the monarch and his nobles were acknowledged on both sides. The latter, seeing the members were
of themselves, or of their class, saw in it a bulwark against
despotism. The monarch, more crafty, found in it a power
of a contrary tendency. The barons were too idle and too
ignorant to suffice for the execution of their judicial functions; they had need of men of study and business to aid
them. Legists were thus introduced into the parliament, and
these soon engrossed all its authority and power. They became almost a fourth order in the state. Raised from the
lower or middling classes; they were jealous of the aristocracy, and more so of the priesthood; and they labored with
inveterate diligence to raise royalty, to which they owec
their own elevation and honors, on the ruins of those two
estates. The ensuing hundred years of French history might
be called the age of lawyers, so universally did they dominate
and bend every power and institution to their will. It was
their teachings and maxims that gave to kings that divine
right which the church at that time claimed for itself. That
devotion to royalty, which in romance is considered to have
been the characteristic of the high-born, was in reality first
held and forced upon them by the plebeian lawyer. This profession, which in later times has given to the cause of liberty
its ablest advocates, laid, in the thirteenth century, the firmest
t.undations of absolute power.
The French nobles were not yet reconciled to their new
state of dependence and subordination. The present seemed
a favorable opportunity for recovering their influence. Louis
IX. had not reached the age of twelve. His mother, Blanche
of Castile, assumed the regency. A woman and a minor did
not seem formidable enemies; but Blanche was a person of
capacity and firmness: all their efforts proved unavailing
against her. Peter duke of Britany, surnamed Mauclere,




1229.          MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCES.                55
was the enemy that gave her most trouble. Theobald count
of Champagne was another; a young knight of more gallaLnry than firmness. Hle professed a tender and chivalresque
devotion towards queen Blanche, which some chroniclers
have maliciously construed. And certainly his conduct was
capricious as a lover-now rising in insurrection and anger,
the next at the feet of the queen in abject submission, deserting Peter of Britany and his other allies.  These civi
wars led, however, to few important consequences.  Th
termination of the war with the Albigenses, and the pacification, or it might be called the acquisition, of Languedoc, was
the chief act of queen Blanche's regency.
Louis VIII. had overrun the country without resistance in
his last campaign; still, at his departure, Raymond VII.
again appeared, collected soldiers, and continued to struggle
against the royal lieutenant. For upwards of two years he
maintained himself; the attention of Blanche being occupied
by the league of the barons against her. The successes of
Raymond VII., accompanied by cruelties, awakened the vindictive zeal of the pope. Languedoc was threatened with
another crusade; Raymond was willing to treat, and make
considerable cessions, in order to avoid such extremities. In
April, 1229, a treaty was signed: in it the rights of De Montfort were passed over. About two-thirds of the domains of
the count of Toulouse were ceded to the king of France;
the remainder was to fall, after Raymond's death, to his
daughter Jeanne, who by the same treaty was to marry one
of the royal princes: heirs failing them, it was to revert to
the crown.  On these terms, with the humiliating addition
of a public penance, Raymond VII. once more was allowed
peaceable possession of Toulouse, and of the part of his domains reserved to him. Alphonse, brother of Louis IX., married Jeanne of Toulouse soon after, and took the title of count
of Poitiers; that province being ceded to him in appanage.
Robert, another brother, was made count of Artois at the
same time.  Louis himself married Margaret, the eldest
daughter of Raymond Berenger count of Provence. Though
the king had nearly reached the age of one-and-twenty, still
queen Blanche was not less strict in her tutelage. The young
spouses were not allowed freely to enjoy each other's company, and many of their meetings were obliged to be stolen
ones.  Louis had been reared with almost monkish rigidity,
not only in reverence of religion and performance of its duties, but in the whole conduct and views of life.  Many dispositions might have rebelled against this irksome discipline,
and compensated it by an unprincipled and licentious manhodii. Louis IX. however, remained unchanogod, The sa.mo




56                HISTORY OF FRANCE.               t243
rigid princp..e and sentiments, imbibed in childhood, continued
to regulate his acts and life, and obtained for him the title of
Saint Louis, by which he is more generally known.
The last of his barons that resisted the French king was
Hugh of Lusignan, count de la Marche. He had married
Isabel, widow of king John of England, and mother of Henry
III. When Louis accompanied his brother Alphonse to his
county of Poitiers, and summoned his vassals of these regions to attend his court and do the customary homage, the
dowager queen of England felt mortified at thus being reduced to act a subject's part. She instigated her husband to
rebel; and the French princes, who had reached Poitiers in
perfect confidence, were obliged to sign a disadvantageous
treaty ere they were allowed to escape. The count de la
Marche, elated by his success, formally renounced his allegiance to Louis, formed a league of nobles, and called on
Henry III., his stepson, to support him. That monarch did
come with an army to his defence, whilst Louis advanced to
chastise the refractory vassal. The two kings met on the
banks of the Charente, at a castle called Taillebourg, which
commanded a bridge over the river. Some negotiations went
forward: and it appears that the English, afraid of being surprised or betrayed, abandoned the post in a panic and fled.
They were pursued by Louis, on the following day, to Saintes.
A battle ensued, in which Henry III. and the count de la
Marche were defeated. The latter, as well as his proud wife,
was compelled to submit to the conqueror. The count of
Toulouse had also been engaged in this rebellion: he submitted in time, however; as did all the great vassals, on
learning the victory of Saintes.
Another marriage completed for the royal family the acquisition of the south. A considerable portion of it obeyed
Raymond Berenger, as count of Provence. He had no male
heirs. Of his five daughters, the eldest was queen of France;
another queen of England. Jealous of having his patrimonial
country swallowed up in a great kingdom, Raymond Berenger, by testament, constituted his youngest'daughter, Beatrix,
his heir. It was arranged that she should espouse Raymond
count of Toulouse, who would thus restore the fallen grandeur of his house, and unite all the south beneath his sway.
These plans of Raymond were frustrated.  Count Raymond
Berenger died unexpectedly. Charles count of Anjou, Louis
IX.'s youngest brother, became a suitor of Beatrix, and advanced with an army to woo. Louis seconded him. The
Provenqals, dreading more the enmity of France than that
of the count of Toulouse, favored the pretensions of the




L244.               BATTLE OF GAZA.                     57
young prince; and Charles, with the hand of Beatrix, secured to himself the county of Provence.
Louis IX. was in the mean time diverted from  plans of
policy and domestic aggrandizement.  In the year 1244, he
fell seriously ill at Pontoise, and was reduced to the last extremity. Some of his attendants deemed him already dead.
He recovered, however; and his first words were a vow to
take the cross and lead a crusade against the infidels.  No
entreaties could dissuade him from this resolve; and while
yet on his bed of sickness he received the cross from the
bishop of Paris.  The events of the East were indeed such
is to call for the sympathy and aid of all Christian knights.
t was at this period that the Moguls had left the pasturages
of Tartary, to overrun and spoil the nations of the West.
They had invaded Muscovy, Poland, and had even penetrated
into the dominions of the emperor Frederic. The Greek empire was equally menaced by them.  The Khorasmians, a
nation driven by the Moguls from  the east of the Caspian,
and fleeing from their conquerors, as the Goths from the Huns
of old, flung themselves upon Syria. The Saracens and the
Christians of Syria leagued against the barbarians; the crescent and the cross fought for the first time in alliance; it
proved unfortunate.  The Khorasmians defeated their opponents on the plain of Gaza.  More ruthless than Saladin,
they almost entirely destroyed the Knights Templars and
Hospitallers, and massacred all the Christians of Jerusalem.
Europe, during these reverses of her creed and sons, was
convulsed with the quarrel betwixt pope Innocent and the
emperor Frederic.  The latter was most eager to fly to the
relief of the Holy Land; but the pontiff, bent on his own
selfish schemes, his own views, and the church's aggrandizement, was deaf to all offers and treaties of accommodation.
He sought to draw Louis into his party against the emperor,
and even undertook a journey to France for that purpose;
when the illness and piety of the king bound him in a vow,
which he resolved not to neglect, even for the exhortations
or dispensations of the father of the faithful.
The mind of Louis was henceforth bent on the crusade,
a.,. the preparatives necessary. He made peace with Henry
III., formed alliances with all neighboring princes, and offered
to restore any possessions that the crown had usurped. He
induced the greater number of his turbulent barons to accom)any him; Peter of Britany amongst the rest, the count of
Toulouse, and Thibaud count of Champagne, who, by inheritance, had become king of Navarre.  Thibaud, or Theobald, had not long returned from an unfortunate crusade,
which he had led into the Fast: with l im went his vassal Join



58                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1248
ville, the well-known historian of St. Louis. The good king
spared no pains to enlist followers: he had even recourse to
artifice for that purpose, being necessitated to it by the decay
of that devotional and chivalresque zeal which alone had
furnished so many thousands to the early enterprises of the
kind. At Christmas it was the custom of great lords to distribute new dresses to their followers; from whence cotnes
the word livree, livery. Louis prepared a great number; and
inviting his courtiers to attend mass with him before daybreak, mantles were distributed to them  previously.  When
day broke, and the sun's rays illumined the church, each person was surprised, on looking at his new mantle, to discover
that the badge of the cross was attached.  They were
ashamed to tear off the sacred symbol, and thus found themselves tricked into the warlike pilgrimage by the devout
humor of the monarch.
In August, 1248, Louis sailed from Aigues Mortes, a port
that himself had founded. He directed his course to Cyprus,
where Henry of Lusignan reigned, and reached it in fourand-twenty days. The island was the general rendezvous of
the crusade.  Louis wintered there, collecting information,
and forming plans for his future campaign.
Instead of disembarking in Palestine, Louis formed the
project of attacking Egypt.  The most powerful of the
Saracen chiefs reigned at Cairo. Syria, to use a baronial expression, was in reality but a fief held under the soldan of
Egypt.  To attack the latter was to aim at the head, and to
give the most deadly blow to Mahometan power.  In June,
1249, the crusading force, filling 1800 vessels, mere boats we
must suppose many of them, bearing nearly 3000 knights,
with their warlike and domestic suites, sailed from Cyprus.
Their first misadventure was to be assailed by a tempest, and
separated. Louis, however, arrived with a certain portion of
the fleet off Damietta.  There was a show of resistance.
Many were against disembarking, but the French king would
not remain on board; he sprang ashore, himself among the
foremost, to withstand the charge of the Saracen cavalry,
and routed them. Damietta was found to be evacuated, and
was occupied on the following day.
The great object of the crusaders was the seizure of Cairo,
the soldan's capital, styled Babylon by the monkish writers
of the day.  The rise of the Nile, however, kept them  for
many months inactive at Damietta. It was not until Novem
her that they began their march. The lassitude endured under that burning climate caused them to linger, and another
month elapsed ere they reached Mansourah, not many leagues
up the Nile. Here was a canal or river to cross, called the




1254.              LOUIS'S CRUSADE.                    59
Thanis.  The Saracens defended the passage; wooden fortifications were raised on both sides; but the crusaders suffered
infinitely more than their enemies, from the Greek fire with
which the latter assailed them.  To the great joy of the
French, a ford was discovered. King Louis's brother, Robert
count of Artois, passed it the next day. He took the Saracens
by surprise, routed them, and in the heat of victory pursued
them rashly into the town of Mansourah. Their chief was
killed; but in the narrow streets and embarrassed passages
the Egyptians rallied. The count of Artois, lord Salisbury,
and Robert de Vere, who carried the banner of England,
were here slain: the grand-master of the Temple lost an eye.
A thousand knights perished in the rout, amongst whom
were almost all the English. After this defeat, the project of
advancing on Cairo was abandoned. To retreat was equally
difficult. A pestilence seized on the army, and paralyzed it.
All that was left to the pious monarch to perform were his
prayers.
The retreat to Damietta was commenced after Easter, but
it was found impossible to accomplish it, so closely were they
pressed. In a few days the army and its chief were prisoners.
Every Christian under the rank of knighthood had to choose
between apostasy or death.  Such was the untoward consequence of a war undertaken for the propagation of religious
belief.
Another circumstance came to complicate the king's disaster.  The Mamelukes grew suddenly jealous of their young
sultan. He favored his French prisoners, and they suspected
him of seeking to reserve their ransom to himself. They conspired, attacked him in a tower, and pursuing him thence into
the Nile, where he had flung.himself, massacred him before
the eyes of the French.  One of them tore out the victim's
heart, and presented it to the king, asking a reward for
having slain his enemy. This increased the difficulties of an
accommodation; but it was at last effected. Louis restored
Damietta as the price of his own ransom, and promised 400,000
livres as that of his followers: the count of'Poitiers remained
hostage for the fulfilment. A truce was agreed on for ten
years.
Louis, after his delivery, sailed for Palestine, determined to
see his barons free ere he quitted the Levant.  The obligation of his vow held him also, perhaps, as well as the shame
of returning with the news of so disastrous an expedition.
Four years Louis sojourned in Palestine, endeavoring to effect
Dy policy that which he had failed to accomplish by arms. Iie
fortified Acre, Sidon, Jaffa, and other principal towns held by
the Latins.  He negotiated with the Arabs, and labored tc




60                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1254.
reconcile the differences betwixt the chiefs of Syria. At
length, on learning the death of his mother, queen Blanche.
who had been regent in his absence, he sailed from Palestine,
arriving in France during the autumn of the year 1254. It
was remarked, that amidst all the joy and congratulations of
his return, Louis preserved the aspect of profound melancholy; he would not admit of consolation, listen to music or
to gaiety. He still retained on his habit the symbol of a
crusader; thus marking that he considered his vow as unaccomplished. He reproached himself with the ill success of
his expedition, as with a crime
The love and respect borne by his people to Louis were
not diminished by his reverses; on the contrary, his captivity
excited general sympathy. The ardor to avenge his indignities upon. the infidel was general. The devout opinions of
ihat age, which saw the immediate hand of Providence in
every event,-distributing good fortune as the reward of
piety, and disaster as the punishment of infidelity,-at once
attributed the failure of the crusade to the profligate lives of
the barons and clergy. Both were considered unworthy to
advance the cause of heaven. It was for the innocent and
the humble, for those untainted with the vices of the time,luxury, avarice, violence, and pride,-to come forth and support
the standard which they did not disgrace. The same idea had
formerly prevailed, when many thousands of children were
collected in a kind of crusading expedition, and perished
miserably.  Shepherds were now the class looked to as the
fittest to recruit a divine army. Numbers of these assembled,
and were joined by the poor and idle of all kinds.
Their first purpose was to combat the infidel and rescue
Louis. But the Pastoureaux, as they were called, soon
abandoned the conquest of the Saracen for the plunder and
abuse of their betters at home. Their fanaticism naturally
adopted the popular tone of hatred to the clergy, and distaste
of their creed and yoke, which has ever existed-a smouldering fire, always quenched with blood, at least in France,
though never to utter extinction. Whenever the people rose
by insurrection to enjoy the free utterance of their opinions.
these were found to resemble the religious and political heresies of the unfortunate Albigenses.  By the measures of
queen Blanche, the Pastoureaux were exterminated, and their
chief slain as he was preaching publicly in the capital.
The death of Raymond count of Toulouse was another
event that took place during the absence of Louis. The
king's brother Alphonse, who had married Jeanne, succeeded
to the peaceable possession and dignity of the counts of Toulouse. Thus two of the roval mrinces divided the soutr be.




1255.    LEGISLATION IN THE REIGN OF ST. LOUIS.       61
twixt them: Charles of Anjou possessing Provence, or the
eastern portion borderinog on the Rhone; Alphonso the western. They united their forces in a war against the free cities
of their region.  Avignon was reduced, and Aries; Marseilles itself submitted: but it does not appear that any were
harshly treated, or deprived of their privileges and franchises.
The remainder of St. Louis's reign is marked by few inci
dents, although it forms the most important epoch in the legislative history of France.  The monarch, as he advanced in
years, became still more absorbed in religious views and
scruples. He came to have no other maxim of policy than
the preservation of his own soul, and that of his fellow-men.
He consulted his conscience rather than his ministers, and
preferred its counsels to those even of prudence or of patriotism. Such unworldly policy was likely to lead to most
foolish acts. He had promised, on setting out for the crusade,
to restore all that the kings of France had usurped.-Henry
III. of England claimed Normandy and Poitou in accomplishment of the offer, and Louis for a moment meditated
ceding them: but the impolicy of the act struck him, as well
as its justice.  He could not reconcile his duties as Christian
and as sovereign; he determined in consequence to abdicate
the throne, and to enter a cloister. It was with difficulty he
was dissuaded from the resolve, and brought to reign according to less rigid maxims of political honesty. He made peace,
however, with Henry, and ceded to him the provinces of
Perigord, the Limousin, the Agenois, and a part of Saintonges. In return Henry abandoned his right to Normandy and
Poitou.
The good sense of Louis in this instance overcame the absurdity of monastic notions, and prevailed over the narrow
precepts of his conscience and confessor. His views enlarged;
they opened to the wide prospects of philanthropy; and in
lieu of confining himself to the observance of ascetic, I had
nearly said of selfish duties, the monarch gave himself to the
more noble task of ameliorating the condition of his people.
The etablissemens of St. Louis, as his laws are called, form
the earliest considerable attempt at legislation in France.
The first of them was directed against the right of private
war, asserted and practised by the barons. It established,
after the commission of any crime or act of violence, forty
days of truce to be observed towards the relatives and fiiends
of the criminal.  This obliged the retaliation or vengeance
to be personally confined to the offender, and not, as usual,
extended to his kin and clan. This ordinance, known by the
name of que(ranltaine 1 roi, was succeeded by the total aboli.




62                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1255.
tion of the right of private war. Subsequent monarchs, however, unable to enforce the latter prohibitions, were content
with upholding the former. The duel, or judicial combat,
wvas another relic of barbarism and violence that St. Louis
attacked by his enactments. The legists, his new counsellors,
the modern lords of parliament and of the judicature, evidently dictated these ameliorations. Versed in the pandects
and the Roman law, the license and independence of feudal
customs were odious to them.  They swept all these away,
substituting for intricate rights and turbulent privileges their
own processes and verdicts.  St. Louis has been lauded and
censured for having, through them, undermined the power of
the aristocracy, and for having converted a government,
originally feudal and free, into an absolute monarchy. But
Louis, with all his sagacity, saw not whither his enactments
tended. He issued them more from a love of order, and from
principles of piety, than from  any Machiavelian craft or
kingly policy. Even his legal counsellors may share this exculpation.  They did but labor in the spirit of their calling.
What most detracted from the influence of the barons was
not the object of an express law. This was, drawing away
the trying of causes from them  and their courts to those of
the royal judges and the parliament. It was effected tacitly
and gradually.  Appeals were encouraged; cases in which
they were allowed were extended and multiplied; and the
lower and middling orders were taught to look to their sove
reign for that impartial justice and protection, which they
could not expect from the very noble with whom they were
perhaps in litigation.
Another of the enactments of Louis showed, what was still
less to be expected of him, his resistance to the usurpation
and pernicious immunities of the church. IHere the hand of
the legists is clearly seen, defending their jurisdiction against
that of the clergy, and declaring their law and its royal
source independent of the Holy See, its canons and decretals.
In the year 1268, was published an edict called the Pragmatic
Sanction, which is considered as the foundation of the liberties of the Gallican church.  This declares the right of collators to benefices, of cathedral churches, and of such as enjoyed the privilege of electing their superior, to be indepen
dent of the pope; that all church preferment and promotion
shall be guided by ancient custom, despite of any modern decree issuing from Rome. It restricts in the same manner the
money levied in the kingdom for the papal treasury.  The
words of the edict are simple enough, and moderate; but in
the reading, the French legists afterwards took care to construe it so as to oppose and frustrate every attempt at exa.r




1255             SUCCESSION OF N IPLES.                 63
tion.r usurpation on the part of the Holy See. It is singular
that she most formidable bulwark against the grasping pretensOns ef the popedom, should have been raised by the only
monarch of Christendom whose virtues and piety have placed
him on the saintly calendar.
England and France, those restless neighbors, remained at
eace during these years.  Henry III. was engaged in a
truggle with his barons, headed by Simon de Montfort earl
f Leicester, a descendant of the conqueror of the Albigenses.
Louis IX. never took advantage of the weakness of the rival
kingdom  or monarch, and did not interfere except with his
good offices. In 1264, both parties referred their cause to
his arbitration.  The king held his court at Am!iens for the
purpose, and patiently heard the pleas on both sides.  With
all his sense of justice, it was not, however, to be hoped that
a monarch could give an impartial verdict in a cause where
monarchy and liberty were at issue. Louis decided against
the English barons, ordering, that all his castles and powers
should be restored to Henry.  This " equitable sentence," as
Hume calls it, was not submitted to by the barons; and the
civil war in England was in nowise allayed or terminated by
Louis's arbitration.
About the period of the king's departure for the crusade,
Italy and Germany were convulsed by the deadly quarrel between the pope and the emperor Frederic II. This monarch
died soon after at Ferentino. The pope's enmity was continued against his son Conrad, who died suddenly in 1254,
poisoned, as some suppose. He left a son, Conradin, then but
three years of age, the last relic of the house of Suabia.
Manfred, the natural son of Frederic, held possession of Naples, and defied all the efforts of the pope to drive him thence.
Innocent IV. had promised Naples to a prince of Parma, if
he succeeded in subduing Manfred.  Alexander IV., his successor, transferred this promise to Edmund, second son of
Henry III., who contributed all the money he could raise to
the conquest of a new kingdom, at a time when he could
scarcely retain the one over which he reigned.  Manfred,
however, was still successful; and the pope felt the necessity of raising up a more powerful competitor. He dispatched
an envoy, offering the kingdom of Naples to St. Louis. The
good king would not consent to usurp the right of the young
Conradin; but when his brother, Charles of Anjou, whose
ambition was not contented with the county of Provence,
lately acquired by him in marriage, offered himself as the
conqueror and sovereign of Naples, Louis would not intsrfere. He left Charles to act with his own resources; lind




64                HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1270.
posed. A crusade, the usual pontifical resource, was preached
against Manfred; and a large French army marched under
the united banners of the cross and of Charles to the conquest
of Naples. Manfred, at the head of his troops, a great number of whom were Saracens, met his rival in the plain of
Grandella.  One battle decided the war. Manfred bravely
perished in the field: Charles of Anjou and the French remained masters of Sicily and Naples.  Such was the commencement of those conquests in Italy, which continued so
long the object of French ambition, and of which the first
brilliant results were always doomed to end in subsequent
disappointment and defeat.
While Christians, calling themselves crusaders, and so
constituted by the pontiff, were thus engaged in slaughtering
their brethren, tidings arrived that Palestine had been invaded
by the soldan of Egypt; that Cesarea, and, at last, Antioch
itself, had fallen. Upwards of 100,000 Christians had been
put to the sword, or sold to slavery. Europe was thus periodically frighted from apathy, and roused to enthusiasm and vengeance, by some fearful calamity in the East. Louis IX. was
deeply moved; and, despite of his feebleness and age, instantly undertook to head another crusade. His relatives and
nobles, even the pope himself, endeavored to dissuade him;
but to no purpose. He employed three years in preparation.
It was in this interval that Naples was invaded by young
Conradin, the last prince of the house of Suabia. Charles
of Anjou advanced to defend his newly-acquired kingdom,
and defeated his rival in battle. Conradin was taken, and instantly sent by his ruthless conqueror to perish on the scaffold.
St. Louis embarked with his three sons and a considerable
army at Aigues Mortes, in July, 1270. Palestine or Egypt
was considered to be the object of the expedition. The king
surprised his followers by declaring his intention of disembarking at Tunis. The pious king's object was said to be, the
assurances he had received of the willingness of the king of
Tunis to become Christian.  Charles of Anjou had also an
object in conquering that district of Africa, which was imme
diately opposite to his kingdom of Sicily. Whatever was the
expectation, it was not fulfilled. Onar king of Tunis, instead of welcoming Louis as an apostle, prepared to oppose
him as an invader. The French effected a landing, however,
and in a few days attacked and tool what is called the castle
of Carthage. The ancient rival of Rome still existed as a
town, and was defended by two hundred men. Louis established himself within its walls, and was soon besieged there
by the Tunisians.  The plague, a more formidable enen-o




1270             DEATH OF ST. LOUIS.                  65
than man, at the same time attacked the French.  Numbers
of the chiefs of the expedition fell immediate victims to it.
The king and his sons caught the infection.  One of the
latter, the count of Nevers, died. Louis lay twenty-two days
extended on his couch of death, displaying that patience,
piety, and presence of mind, which have given him in history
the mingled character of a great man and a saint. In his
dying moments he caused himself to be removed from his
couch and placed upon ashes. In this situation he expired.
The character of St. Louis is one of the noblest that occurs
in modern history. He possessed all the virtues of his age,
untarnished by its vices: he was brave without cruelty or
violence, pious without bigotry or weakness. Although more
the hero of the legend than of romance, he commands our
admiration by his rare disinterestedness, his bold attempt to
rule his actions as a monarch by the rigid maxims of private
honor, and by the great good sense that tempered his devotion, and that never allowed him to sacrifice humanity or jus.
tice to the interests even of that church which he revered.
There was one defect in his character, however, rendered
more striking when we compare him with another saint and
hero, Charlemagne:* this was his neglect of letters; shown
not only by the silence of history as to his reading and acquirements, but by the fact that the education of his son and
successor -Philip was utterly neglected. Even his monkish
contemporaries found the ignorance of the prince " lamentable," and his reign corroborates the assertion.
Robert, the youngest son of St. Louis, was count of Clermont; he married the heiress of the county of Bourbon, and
took that title. Although disordered in his intellect from a
blow received at a tournament, he left a numerous progeny.
Iis descendants succeeded to the throne of France, which
they still occupy, in the person of Henry IV.
Philip III. or the Hardy, called so apparently from no other
cause than that of having survived the war and pestilence of
Tunis, was still sick when St. Louis expired. The conduct
of the army devolved on Charles of Anjou, who by a treaty
put an end to the war. Philip journeyed through Italy, accompanied by five coffins,-those of his father, brother, brotherin-law, wife, and son. It was during this journey that Henry,
nephew of Henry III. of England, was assassinated by Guy de
Montfort in the church of Viterbo.
The principal, almost the only, events of the reign of Philip
the Hardy sprung from the rivalry of the royal families of
* The fact of Thomas Aquinas dining and being familiar with Louis is
scarcely in contradiction to this censure.




66                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1282
France and Aragon: that of Castile also mingled in the
quarrel; but all the circumstances are far too minute and
unimportant to be given. The succession of the counts of
Champagne to the crown of Navarre has been mentioned.
Henry the last king left a daughter, who, as heiress of that
powerful house, was sought by many competitors; amongst
others, by the prince of Aragon. As yet but a child, her
mother fled with her to the'court of France, where being
rought up, she was afterwards married to Philip the Hardy's
son, and thus brought her rich heritage to swell that of the
French crown. The king of Aragon was of course wroth at
this abduction; and other causes contributed to aggravate his
enmity. France, however, was not the most vulnerable point
for attacking the French. The followers of Charles of Anjou,
since their conquest of Sicily and Naples, had conducted
themselves so as to excite the discontent and hatred of a vindictive people. Peter of Aragon received the Sicilian exiles
with the greatest friendship; amongst the rest, John of Procida, their chief. He incited these malcontents to avenge
themselves, and promised them his support. John of Procida
passed over to Sicily, where, in the disguise of a Franciscan
friar, he prepared measures of revolt and vengeance. On
Easter day, 1282, when the church bells sounded for vespers
at Palermo, the Sicilians rushed on all the French they could
meet, and massacred them with every aggravation of cruelty.
The same scene was imitated and repeated all through the
island. Eight thousand French are said to have perished in
this massacre, well known by the name of the Sicilian vespers. Peter of Aragon soon after arrived in Sicily with a
fleet and army. Charles, who had hurried from Naples to
avenge his countrymen, was compelled to retreat with the
loss of his fleet; and Sicily was not only lost to the house of
Anjou, but the Aragonese began to pass the strait and to establish themselves in Calabria. The anger of the two competitors was not satisfied in the field; they exchanged insults
and defiances, and challenged each other to single combat.
Bordeaux was fixed as the rendezvous, and Edward I., a
neutral monarch, was to guard the field, and guaranty the
princely duellists from unfair advantage.  This chivalresque
mode of settling their differences never took effect; Edward
refused to sanction it: and although Charles of Anjou made
his appearance at the time and place appointed, Peter came
out to enter his protest and instantly disappear.
Philip the Hardy took up the quarrel of his uncle Charles.
He made immense preparations, resolving to overwhelm his
enemy, and entered Spain with a numerous army. He advanced, howev -, no farther than Gerona, which he took, and




1285.               PIL.LIP THE PAIR.                   67
thence was compelled to retreat. A fever, the consequence
of disappointment and fatigue, seized upon Philip, and he expired at Perpignan, in October, 1285. The rival princes,
Charles of Anjou and Peter of Aragon, died the same year.
Little is known of the internal state of France or of its
court during the reign of Philip. From Matthew Paris and
Joinville to Froissart, there is a breach in the succession of
chroniclers, ill filled up by the dry pages of William of Nangis.
History had, in fact, outgrown its ancient scope.  Provinces
were lost in kingdoms; barons and counts in royalty: wars,
from provincial quarrels, became national ones.  To comprehend this wide field, and follow the march of such events, became impossible for a monk; the information of the cloister
no longer sufficed: history henceforward demanded the pen
of the statesman or the warrior; and such were not always
found, possessed of the leisure and the learning requisite for
the task.
There is, nevertheless, one domestic circumstanceof Philip's
reign preserved to us. It seems that he honored with his peculiar favor Pierre de la Brosse, a chirurgeon-barber of St.
Louis, who became chamberlain to the king.  The ignoble
favorite was of course the object of hatred and jealousy to the
court, and to the queen also, who endeavored to counteract
his influence. Pierre de la Brosse made use on his side of
insinuations against the queen; and the king's eldest son
Louis dying somewhat suddenly, poison was whispered to be
the cause. Pierre de la Brosse was the origin of the report
that the queen sought to remove her stepsons, in order to
make room for her own. His boldness or his malevolence,which, cannot be decided,-proved fatal to the favorite: he
was tried by a commission, and hanged on the common gibbet
at Montfaucon.
Philip the Fair, the fourth monarch of his name, succeeded
at the age of seventeen to the vacant throne. The retreat
and the disasters of the French army might, at any other
time, have proved most fatal to the monarchy; but neighboring kingdoms were not then actuated by any rivalry towards
France.  Rodolph of Hapsburg, the ancestor of the present
house of Austria, lately called by his merits from the humble
station of a private knight to the imperial crown, was busied
with establishing his power and family in the east of Germany.  Edward I. of England, though he showed himself
ambitious and usurping towards the Welsh and Scotch, preserved towards France a kind of paternal forbearance and
protection. Instead of taking advantage of Philip's youth or
misfortunes, he came to Paris to do him homage, proffered his
-r,';id.s. as arbitrator to settle the differences betwixt Franco
5




68                 HISTORY OF FRANCE                 1296
and Aragon, and sincerely labored to bring about a peace.
The causes of quarrel were complicated, and rendered adjustment so difficult, that ten years elapsed before a final
treaty was concluded.  Charles II. of Naples, son of Charles
of Anjou, was a prisoner to the king of Aragon. Edward
induced the latter to release him on divers conditions, which,
though sworn to solemnly, were of course broken. War con
tinued, in the mean time, languidly. In conclusion, Sicily
was nominally restored by treaty to the house of Anjou, bu
really kept possession of by Frederic of Aragon, brother of
the reigning monarch. Charles of Naples at the same time
ceded his county of Anjou to Charles of Valois, king Philip's
brother, contenting himself with Provence and Naples.
Philip the Fair very much resembled his ancestor Philip
4Augustus in character. Both having succeeded young to the
throne, entertained a high idea of their prerogative; and
hence were proud, irritable, overbearing, rapacious.  Both
added craft to violence; and whilst they overwhelmed inferiors, they spoiled and cheated the more powerful by artifice
and falsehood. The two monarchs made use of law as their
favorite weapon: lawyers were the chief counsellors and
ministers of Philip the Fair. Philip Augustus redeemed his
habits of crooked policy by valor in the field: the victory won
by him at Bovines procured for him the name of hero. Philip
the Fair was not so successful; his propensities were those
of the statesman rather than of the warrior.
Notwithstanding the friendly and disinterested conduct of
Edward I. towards France, Philip was jealous of that monarch. He saw with pain that Edward was rounding and
completing his dominions at home, by the conquest of Scotland and of Wales. The French king sought to follow the
example; and he accordingly labored and intrigued to win
the affections of Edward's subjects of Guienne.  Thirty-five
years of peace had now existed betwixt England and France;
but points of rivalry, casual insults, and collisions, could not
fail to keep alive and stir up, from time to time, the natural
jealousy of neighbors and rivals. For some of these causes,
true or pretended, Philip summoned Edward to appear and
answer before the parliament of Paris. The latter, occupied
with the Scotch war, replied more in a tone of expostulation
than of anger. He sent his brother Edmund to Paris to satisfy
these griefs. The politic Philip pretended to be grievously
insulted and hurt in his feudal rights, by the insults he had
received from the people of Guienne; his honor was piqued,
as he affected, more than his interest was concerned.  He
demanded that one or two of his officers should be admitted,
with merely nominal power, into the chief towns of thai




1297.           FLANDERS CONQUERED.                   69
duchy. It was at the- same time proposed, that Edward should
marry Margaret, Philip's sister, and that Guienne should be
the heritage of the offspring of the marriage.  Edward, who
sagely valued such a province as Scotland or Wales far more
than those continental ones, which he was reduced to hold in
fief, agreed to these conditions; and, in drawing up the stipulations, was not keen enough in mistrusting the legal counsellors of Philip. The consequence was, that missives were
issued for delivering up the chief towns of Guienne to the
French; who were no sooner in possession of them, than
Philip threw off'the mask, and, instead of fulfilling the conditions of the treaty, summoned Edward afresh to appear before his parliament of Paris. War remained as the only
alternative: but it was languidly carried on. Edward was
engaged at home with Baliol and Bruce.  The monarch and
barons of Engfland had ceased, in a great measure, to be
French.  It was on this occasion that, on Edward's ordering
the earl of Hereford to Guienne, he added, seeing the earl's
reluctance, "Sir earl, by God, you shall either go or hang!"
and Hereford replied, "By God, sir king! I will neither go
nor hang." It had been well for England, if her future monarchs and nobles had persevered in that disregard of foreign
possessions which marked Edward's conduct as well as Hereford's.  Still the former was not pusillanimous enough to
abandon his rights: he excited continental princes against
Philip, whilst he devoted himself to the pursuit of his advantageous and peculiar policy at home.
One of Edward's projects was to obtain Philippa, daughter
of Guy de Dampierre count of Flanders, for his son; a large
dowry, Flanders being then the richest country in Europe,
and a powerful ally would thus be gained. But Philip intervened with his wonted craft: he sent word to the count of
Flanders, that he should feel insulted unless Philippa visited
Paris on her way to London; expressing, at the same time,
no objection to the match. When the daughter of the count
of Flanders, however, arrived in obedience to the monarch's
invitation, she was immediately conducted to prison; and the
English prince was thus balked of his bride. The count renounced his allegiance in consequence; but Philip, invading
Flanders with an army, compelled him to submit. Finally, he
was made prisoner, and the county of Flanders annexed for
the time to the crown. Philip had leagued with the Scotch,
and Edward with the Flemish; but both monarchs abandoned
their allies respectively to each other.
Whilst Philip made princes and nobles feel the weight of
his injustice, he was no less oppressive to the commonalty
from his exactions.  Two Florentines, whom he consulted




70                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1302
and trusted as financiers, brought to the royal employ the arts
of private cunning and experience.  All foreign merchants
were seized in one day, terrified into paying a large fine, and
then banished the kingdom. The Jews were similarly treated.
The contributions levied on the towns or communes, in which
all wealth now began to concentrate, were swelled by every
possible expedient. This, though a source of great oppression, might have proved the commencement of public liberty
The burgesses or tiers etat were called to assemble, in order
to give their consent to new taxes. The same custom began
in England about the very same time: with what different
fate and consequences the institution was attended in the different kingdoms, is known to every one. The towns of Flanders were far more advanced than those of France in wealth
and independence; they were turbulent and jealous under
their counts; and Philip was welcomed at Bruges and Ghent
as a deliverer. But when the French monarch, or his lieutenant, commenced in his new province the system of exaction and violence practised in France, the Flemish rebelled,
all the?rench were massacred at Bruges, and a grandson of
the captive count was called to head the insurgents. Robert
d'Artois marched with the army of Philip to chastise them.
The Flemings posted themselves at Courtray, behind a canal.
The impetuosity of the French did not allow them to recon
noitre; they charged into the canal; and in the confusion
that ensued, were put to the rout and slaughtered by the
Flemings.  Robert d'Artois himself, and many of the first
nobles of France, perished in the action.  This defeat pun
ished Philip, and took from him all the advantages of his
mean policy.  Bordeaux rebelled; he was obliged to make
peace with England, and restore Aquitaine to Edward. A
serious quarrel with the pope at the same time came to occupy and trouble him. He afterwards gained two battles
over the Flemings; but the populous and stubborn province
instantly opposed a fresh army to Philip. The artisans of
Ghent, Bruges, Ypres, and the other towns, abandoned their
callings, "to die in battle," as they vowed, "rather than live
in servitude." The French king, thus convinced of the impracticability of subduing the Flemings, granted them peace,
liberating and acknowledging the son of Guy de Dampierre
as count of Flanders.  The river Lys was declared the
boundary of France and Flanders.
The most inveterate enemy of Philip was pope Boniface
VIII., Cajetan by name. Pontiff and monarch were equally
haughty, irritable, and possessed with high ideas of their
sovereign power.  A tenth that Philip raised on his clergy
without the pope's consent, and a refusal of the French king




1303.              POPE BONIFACE VIIT.                71
to abide by the arbitration of Boniface betwixt him and England, were the first causes of rupture.  The pope sent a
French bishop as legate to expostulate; the bishop took the
opportunity to insult his sovereign. Philip in revenge ordered
his lawyers to indict the bishop; and crimes were soon raked
up wherewith to accuse him: heresy, sorcery, atheism,those vague crimes so easily imputed and so difficultly proved,
-were instantly laid to the prelate's charge. He was arrested and imprisoned to answer it. The pope was wroth,
and menaced the king with excommunication. The latter
called a council, and commanded his lawyer favorites to accuse the pope as they had accused the bishop; and immediately the same charges of heresy and infidelity were brought
against the pontiff. But it was difficult to bring the head of
the church before a tribunal of Philip's choosing, or to hope
to have him condemned upon such a mendacious and impudent accusation. The king, therefore, employed one of his
agents, also a man of law, to excite a conspiracy against the
pope. He united with the Colonnas, levied an armed troop,
and surprised Boniface at his country retreat in Anagni.
Making themselves masters of his guards and person, they
bound, insulted, and menaced him. The pontiff bared his
neck to their swords, but they feared to strike; and even
found that to bring him away captive was impracticable. At
length a body of the faithful subjects of Boniface rose and delivered him from the conspirators. The vengeance of Philip
was complete, however, despite of this rescue. Boniface died
soon after of a fever caused by the indignities, the hunger,
and privations he had suffered.
The events of the reign of Philip the Fair form but a series
of acts of injustice,  He was called the Faux MIonnoyeur,
or falsifier of coin, from his continual tampering with the
standard. He frequently ordered the coin and plate of his
subjects to be brought to his mint, and paid for it in new coin
so much debased, that the mare of silver, from being worth
only two livres fifteen sous, came to be worth eight francs
eight sous of the debased coin. When the king's purpose
was answered, and his engagements discharged, he decried
his own coin. This caused an insurrection in Paris; the mob
attacked the palace of the Temple, where the king lodged
and menaced his person. But the police had been too wel.
regulated: the royal archers and sergeants dispersed the
mob, seized the ringleaders, and hung them to the trees in
and around the capital.
Resentment had carried Philip the Fair, in his attack upon
pope Boniface, far beyond the bounds of prudence. He dreaded
the retaliation and just enmity of a succeeding pontiff, and




72                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1307
labored with all his might to bring about an election favorable to France. Tlhe king's crime was, however, viewed with
too much horror in Italy. Benedict XI. was elected pope;
and he prepared to excommunicate those who had attacked
Boniface at Anagni. Philip took the alarm, and pope Benedict was opportunely destroyed by poison administered in a
plate of figs. A new conclave was summoned, in which the
two parties were found to be equally balanced in numbers, as
well as in violence and hate. They remained confined, as is
the custom, until a pope is chosen. Nine months elapsed
without hope of agreement. At length it was arranged that
the anti-gallican party should choose three prelates, and that
the opposite side was to select one of the three. Three prelates, noted enemies to Philip, were designated. Information
of this was dispatched to the French monarch. Amongst the
three was Bertrand de Goth, archbishop of Bordeaux: he was
immediately sent for by Philip, who showed him that he was
master of the election, and could insure the elevation of the
archbishop, provided the latter would become his partisan.
Bertrand de Goth grasped at the high offer, and refused no
terms: he promised to fulfil five demands that the king made
of him, amongst which one was to condemn the memory of
Boniface and exculpate his assaulters; and another to grant
a sixth, which Philip reserved the liberty of thereafter specifying. Bertrand de Goth became pope Clement V. in consequence of this intrigue. To be near his patron Philip, he
fixed the pontifical court first at Poitiers, and finally at Avignon.
No monarch was more successful or more ruthless in his
revenge than Philip the Fair. His most signal act of this
kind was the destruction of the order of Knights Templars
History does not inform us of the origin of the monarch',
hatred towards this body;-avarice, the cause generally as.
signed, is not sufficient. But there was a rage at that time
for judicial processes: it was the fearful amusement of the
age, as judicial combat and tournament had been in more
warlike periods. Philip and his lawyers could not rest without some great criminal prosecution, some mysterious inquest.
His object in seizing pope Boniface had been to drag him before a council, to accuse, and judge him. The monarch and
his counsellors were disappointed in this; and they singled
out the Templars, against whom  some vague charges of
scandal gave sufficient plea.  When the Templars were dispatched, Philip, having no living antagonist to accuse, attacked the dead Boniface with his lawyers and pleadings.
On the 13th of October, 1307, the Templars were seized
in all parts of France; the grand-master and sixty knights in




131t         LEGAL AND RELIGIOUS BIGOTR,             73
Paris: they were thrown into prison, and all the possessions
of the order confiscated. The most abominable charges were
brought against them; —those of committing the most indecent of crimes, of worshipping a head, spitting on the cross,
and avowing infidelity. Torturing the accused, and promisinghim pardon if he confessed, were the chief and only modes
of proof. Many, in order to escape torment, confessed what
their torturers put into their mouths; and these avowals were
considered conclusive of their guilt. Fifty-nine Templars
were burnt in Paris; a proportional number in the provinces.
Clement V., in obedience to Philip, abolished the order.
It is here melancholy to reflect, that the cruel and sanguinary spirit of barbarism, which the natural progress of
civilization had been softening from the tenth to the thirteenth century, should during the latter period have been reawakened by the agency of two principles most averse from
violence or blood-these are religion and law. The church,
by its persecutions and burnings of the Albigenses and other
heretics* —lawyers, by their adopting the torture and other
legal customs of the inquisition, as well as by their blind servility to royal power, accustomed the people to see blood shed
juridically for trifling or for no causes. The great, for the
same reason, came to have still less respect for-human life.
He who dared to be the foe or the opponent of a prince expiated his crime, for such it was considered, with death. The
observance of certain forms of justice seemed to give full excuse for dispensing with the spirit. The three following centuries of blind law and religious bigotry surpass the times of
Brunehaut or Domitian in bloodshed and violence.  Murders
and assassinations, hitherto rare, begin to thicken on us, and
the pages of history become for a long period disgustingly
smeared with blood.
The last important act of Philip was his annexing the town
of Lyons to the kingdom of France.  The emperor was the
nominal sovereign, the archbishop the actual ruler. Philip
interfered betwixt the latter and the townspeople, and usurped
the sovereignty of the town, then, as now, the second of the
kingdom in importance.
When the venerable James de Molay, grand-master of the
Temple, was brought to execution, he was said to have uttered, amidst protestations of his innocence, a solemn summons to his chief accusers, king Philip and pope Clement, to
appear before the throne of the Almighty, one in forty days,
the other in the space of a year and a day. They died within
* John XXII. buinod hundreds of both sexes for the crime of profesfint
solute poverty.




74                 HISTORY OF FRANCE                 1314.
these periods respectively. Philip expired at Fontainebleau
in November, 1314.
Notwithstanding the cruel and crafty character which the
acts of his reign stamp upon Philip the Fair, still much that
is beneficial owes its origin to him. The parliament, a court
of judicature, was established and fixed at Paris: personal
servitude was abolished by a decree; serfs attached to the
soil existed, it seems, up to this period, in Languedoc, Philip
the Fair is generally considered the founder of the etats
generaux, or states-general, an assembly corresponding to the
English parliament. He called them together when preparing to resist pope Boniface, and caused each estate to answer
the papal bull, denying the pope's right of supremacy or interference.  He favored the burgesses of towns, whom he
found at once wealthy and submissive,-two qualities that his
nobles wanted; and his frequent summonses established the
commons as a third estate.
Philip chose his ministers from the lower or middling
classes; selecting those versed in law, the new and chosen
science of the day. The management of the royal revenues
had hitherto appertained to the oifice of chamberlain. Philip
appointed a superintendent of finance in the person of Enguerrand de.Marigny. The circumstance marks an important
change. Of old, kings lived, like other nobles, on the produce
of their domains: stewards and bailiffs were their most useful
officers; the barons contributed to the support of the state by
military service: but now money had come to supersede service of all kinds. Money was demanded, in lieu of produce,
for rent: money was demanded to carry on war, rather than
knights and men-at-arms  To raise money thus continually,
and for all purposes, was an anomaly in the feudal system. It
had made no provision for a yearly budget; and hence the
financial measures of the monarchs of the time consisted
either in extortion, or in an appeal to the generosity of their
subjects.
Philip the Fair left three sons, all of whom reigned in succession.  The eldest was Louis, surnamed Hutin from his
disorderly youth. His reign of two years is almost unmarked
by events.  Charles count of Valois, brother of Philip, hela
the chief influence over his nephew. He employed it to destroy Enguerrand de Marigny, minister of Philip the Fair,
whom he accused of' malversation and sorcery, and whom he
caused to be hanged upon the common gibbet.  Louis led an
army against the Flemings, but was obliged to disband it
without a single action or conquest. The three sons of Philip
were unfortunate in their wives. It was discovered that all
three had been auilty of adultery.  The three princesses




1328.              PHILIP THE LONG.                  75
were imprisoned, and their paramours delivered to torture
and death. The wife of Louis was strangled by his order, to
make way for another marriage. Louis himself died in June,
1316, of a disease caught by having descended to a cellar to
drinklwine when heated by a game at ball.
Philip, the next brother, instantly took possession of the
palace. The lately married queen, however, now a widow,
announced herself with child, and Philip was obliged to content himself with the title of regent. It was agreed that he
should govern for the infant about to be born, should it prove
a prince; if birth was given to a princess, Philip was to assume the crown. The queen brought forth a son, which died
soon after, and is known in the list of French monarchs as
John I. Louis Hutin had left a daughter; nevertheless her
rights were passed over. Philip made a compromise with his
ancle, the duke of Burgundy, and caused himself to be
crowned king. This is the first instance of the crown descending to the exclusion of females, by what is called the
salic law. This maxim was by no means previously established, known, or understood. Chance, the mature age of
Philip, the friendless state of the daughter of Louis, together
with the circumstance of her mother's infidelity, were the
true origin of a rule so unique and important. The salic law
was confirmed by a decree of the states-general, which the
new king summoned for the purpose. The circumstances
attending the succession of Philip the Long are the only important ones of his reign. He died in January, 1322.
Philip left daughters, but no son. In obedience to the salic
law, that he had himself established, his daughters were set
aside, and Charles IV., or the Fair, the third son of Philip
the Fair, succeeded to his brethren. His reign of six years
is equally a blank, marled only by the expedition of queen
Isabella of England and her son against the unfortunate Edward II. Charles had no offspring. Of the fine family left
by Philip the Fair there remained not a male descendant.
The people considered this extinction of his race as a punishment for the crimes of that monarch. Charles the Fair died
in the commencement of 1328, leaving his queen in a state
to produce an heir. " Should it be a son," ordered the dying
Charles, "let Philip count of Valois, my cousin-german, be
his tutor and the kingdom's regent. If it be a daughter, let
the twelve peers and barons of France decide to whom the
kingdom shall belong."




b6           1tHISTORY OF FRANCE.              1328
CHAP. IV.
1328-1461.
FROM THE ACCESSION OF PHILIP OF VALOIS TO THAT OF
LOUIS XI.
THE thirteenth century was in Europe a period of comparative repose. Each nation was for the most part occupied at
home, reconciling discordant interests, struggling to form
some kind of system, and developing the natural.resources
of commerce and industry. In France the royal power obtained ascendency over its rivals, repressing the great feudatories, putting the yoke of its legal authority over the necks
of all, balancing the power of the nobility in the mass, by
calling the commons into political existence, and securing the
co-operation of the clergy in resisting the encroaching power
of Rome. This rapid growth of despotism was favorable to
order, to wealth, to the external and material part of civilization. But it was lamentably deficient in producing intellectual improvement: whilst the turbulent freedom of the
cities of Italy not only allowed the increase of riches and
luxury, but awoke the dormant minds of its children, so as to
give to the world such poets as Dante and Petrarch, and-a
proof, perhaps, of still greater advancement-an'historian of
sense and judgment such as Villani, France remained undistinguished by genius or learning. At the epoch to which we
refer, the country betrayed symptoms of deterioration in more
than one respect: public morals grew more corrupt, as is
evident from the wickedness universally imputed and believed; crime generated crime, and vice reproduced itself,
prompted by no passion more lively than ignorance. A stupid
and pusillanimous dread of sorcery shed torrents of human
blood. The church burned thousands of heretics for a logical
blunder; and became itself degenerate in purity, and power,
and wisdom, from the moment of its alliance with persecution.
The law rivalled the church in absurd and capricious condemnations. Even the spirit of chivalry ceased to actuate so
base an age: it expired with the crusades; and was only reinstated by the warriors of the next generation.
The period of history that we now enter upon is marked
by the rivalry that sprung up betwixt France and England.
Hitherto their quarrels had been those of men speaking the
same tongue, and actuated merely by provincial interests;
hut between Philip of Valois and Edward III. the quarrel became national. In the breasts of both countries it kindled




1328.                   PHILIP Vl.                       77
the fire of patriotism and emulation; and though it infused
into the strife a spirit of bitterness and inveteracy which
usually characterizes party dissensions, yet many of the
generous effects of chivalry were produced in the characters
of those engaged. It is customary to lament wars, and the
blood shed in them; and yet peace, which comes fraught
with blessings and virtues to those nations that are far advanced in civilization, is sometimes pernicious to a people but
half emerged from barbarism. Stagnation is then most to be
dreaded: the virtues of a rude age are all warlike, or at least
war-born. France most certainly degenerated in public spirit
and national character, whilst unvexed by her neighbor.
The following century of war, though it increased the
trophies of England, was not so wholly disastrous to France
as her historians represent. They see the gieatness of one
country but in the depression of another. Often as the nation
was humbled by defeat, her energies were still called forth,
her chivalrous spirit was kept alive, her several provinces
were knit together and united by one common bond of feeling.  Nothing so ennobles a land as a valiant struggle for
honor or independence; the blood that is then shed in the
field, is neither idly nor fruitlessly expended.
Philip of Valois, who succeeded to the French throne, was
the son of Charles count of Valois, who had been brother to
Philip the Fair.  The last monarch had left his queen enceinte; but a daughter having been born, Philip, acting upon
the salic law, assumed the crown lately worn by his cousin.
His chief competitor was Edward III., son of Isabella daughter of Philip the Fair. The English monarch's claim, though
first supported by a strong protest, was not insisted on by Isabella, who was too much occupied with enemies in England to
allow of her raising up others abroad: it was nevertheless
considered valid in France, even by many of the doctors summoned by Philip to decide the point.* The count d'Evreux,
who had married the daughter of Louis Hutin, entertained
pretensions also. The kingdom of Navarre was ceded to him
in appanage. Philip of Valois was crowned as king Philip VI.
at Rheims, in May, 1328. He was a prince devoted to magnificence and faste. His prodigality and love of splendor
formed such a brilliant court, that even kings preferred
sojourning at it to enjoying the independent sovereignty of
their own realms.  The kings of Navarre and Bohemia took
* Hume is wrong in considering Edward's claim as utterly unreasonable,
or as not entertained by any in France. He is wrong, also, ir saying that
the salic law was an old established opinion. And he errs in preferring the
claim of Charles king of Navarre, whose father, Philip, was living, and
was not yet king o. Navarre.




78                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1328
up their abode in Paris; the dauphin, or prince of Dauphiny,
though a feudatory of the emperor, preferred following the
king of France both in peace and in war. This conduct of
princes, we may well suppose, was imitated by the aristocracy
in general, who soon came to exchange the solitary pomp of
feudal independence for the show and servility of a court.
The romances of chivalry came at the same time into
vogue. The monarch and courtiers had need of a manual of
gentility, and precedents for their pompous ceremonials and
solemnities. They found them in these volumes.
Here then begin the times of the second or resuscitated
chivalry, which surpassed the old in magnificence and refinement, if not in valor. One difference in the spirit of chivalry
in this and in the past century is, that formerly it manifested
a lordly contempt for the ignobly born. The commons, however, had now risen to wealth and importance, and the nobles
were gradually losing their hold of both: contempt, therefore, was converted into hatred, and the chevalier regarded
the villein with the jealousy engendered by an unwarrantable
encroachment on privileges presumed to be hereditary and
exclusive. This was much more the case in France than in
England. Nor did the hostility which arose out of this mutual antipathy cease to waste the former country, and to influence its character and its destinies, till it at length exploded in the tremendous phenomena of the Revolution.
At Philip's coronation, Louis count of Flanders attended as
one of the great peers. He demanded the king's aid against
the Flemings, the citizens of Bruges and Ypres, who insisted
on their municipal privileges. Philip, eager to lead an army,
grasped the opportunity: his nobles, anxious to tread down
the commonalty, seconded him. He accordingly marched
against the Flemings, who, to the number of 16,000, attacked
his camp in the night near Cassal. After the first surprise
the French rallied, surrounded and slaughtered the enemy:
13,000 are said to have fallen in the field, and 10,000 on the
scaffold. The count was re-established by the victory.
Despite the just claim to the crown of France that Edward III. considered himself to possess, he hesitated for a long
time to enforce it by arms. Philip, emboldened by his victory
at Cassal, required Edward to come and do homage for
Guienne.  The English monarch obeyed; nor did Edward,
who was prudent as brave, determine to wage war with the
French king, and put forth pretensions to his throne, till he
was prompted thereto by the advice and aid of Robert d'Artois. This prince, a descendant of St. Louis, had claimed the
county of Artois. A female heir had, however, been pre
ferred to him; and two judgments had so decided tie ques




1337.          NAVAL FIGHT NEAR SLTUYS.              79
tion. Robert, seeing the salic law prevail with respect to the
throne, thought it must equally apply to a great province, and
again agitated the matter.  It was asserted that he brought
forged documents to support his right: that the fraud was
discovered, and its author disgraced. Such is the general account of historians, which Sismondi, however, doubts. Accusation in those days was seldom confined within limits of
moderation or truth. Of whatever crime a man was declared
guilty, sorcery was always added to fill up the measure.
Robert was accused of making against Philip a voute, in
other words a waxen image, which he pricked, tortured, and
burned; supposing that the consumption of the model would
occasion the destruction of the original. This is the common
crime or accusation of the age. Robert, who refused to appear, was condemned and exiled. He sought refuge, first in
Flanders, then in England, where he was well received by
Edward, and became his counsellor and instigator against
France. Causes of quarrel multiplied betwixt the two countries. Philip favored the Scotch: Edward formed an alliance
with the Flemish citizens, whose count was attached to
France; more especially with Artaveldt, a brewer of hydromel or metheglin, one of their leaders. The Flemings, whh
carried on a thriving trade with England, preferred joining
that country; but scruples of allying with a foreign prince
against their feudal lord, the king of France, checked even
the licentious citizens. To obviate this difficulty, Artaveldt
advised Edward to assume the title of king of France, which
he claimed as a right. Edward was not backward in adopting
the brewer's suggestion; an act by which war was virtually
declared.* Notwithstanding the magnitude of the preparations, the first campaign was signalized by no action or en
terprise. Both kings were paralyzed by the greatness of the
stake; and the armies, which faced each other, separated
without coming to blows. Philip, who had purchased the aid
of the Genoese and collected a fleet, burnt and pillaged Southampton. Edward gathered a few ships, crowded them with
knights and archers, and sailed in pursuit. He found the
French fleet drawn close to the Dutch shore near Sluys. He
instantly bore down upon it, hooked vessel to vessel, and by
forming the decks into a platform converted the engagement
into one partaking of the character of a land fight. After an
obstinate struggle, the French were defeated with immense
loss, and their fleet was destroyed. This was the only engagement of the war. A truce immediately followed, which
was subsequently prolonged. The enmity so often regarded
1 37




SO                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1343,
as natural to these two great nations does not yet appear to
have sprung up, and they now seemed to be fkr more desirous
for repose than swayed by mutual animosity or ardor fbr martial enterprise.
Disturbances in Britany meanwhile implicated the monarchs in fresh quarrels. John duke of Britany died in April,
1341, without children: his second brother had left a daugh
ter married to Charles of Blois, Philip's nephew: anothei
brother, the count de Montfort, was living and in the flower
of his age. The uncle and niece disputed the succession;
and the uncertain validity or extent of the salic law, which
each party interpreted in the manner favorable to themselves,
produced another domestic quarrel.  The count de Montfort
was first in the field, and took possession of the chief towns
of the province. Charles of Blois remained in Paris to plead
his cause. De Montfort was summoned, and the court of
peers decided in favor of the king's nephew, Charles. It was
necessary to vindicate this right by arms. Philip supported
Charles of Blois; De Montfort had recourse to England, and
did homage to Edward as king of France for his duchy of
Britanv.  The scene of war between the nations was thus
transferred to this province. The commencement proved unfortunate to De Montfort; he was surprised in the town of
Nantes by his rival, taken prisoner, and conveyed to the
Louvre. But the countess de Montfort, who, in the words of
Froissart, "had the courage of a man and the heart of a lion,"
presented her infant son to her followers, and promised that
he would prove a generous prince to them, and an avenger
of his sire.  She shut herself up in Hennebon, and was besieged by her enemies. She made a valiant defence; and, in
a sortie which she headed in person, burnt the camp of her
enemies. The English fleet arrived to her assistance under
Walter de Manny, and compelled the French to retire:
Robert d'Artois soon after landed in Britany and took the town
of Vannes; but it was retaken by De Clisson, and Robert received such severe wounds that he did not long survive. A
truce concluded, in 1343, between Philip and Edward, partly
caused hostilities to cease; it was ill observed by the Bretons
of either party.
The internal administration of Philip in the mean time re
sembied that of his predecessors, both in good and in evil: he
resisted the usurpations of the clergy, confirmed the authority
of parliament over inferior courts, and consulted the true interests of the monarchy by the purchase of Dauphiny.  But
he oppressed his subjects by debasing the coin, and by every
means of raising money.  It was he who established the
gabelle,-that most odious regulation, which reserved to the




t346.          EDWARD INVADES FRANCE.                81
king the sole right of making and selling salt throughout the
realm, forcing each family to take a certain quantity at an
exorbitant price. This too he established by an ordonnance,
without having recourse to an assembly of the states-general.
The deference which Edward III. always manifested to his
own subjects, as well as his respect for their liberties, is contrasted with the contempt shown by Philip for the body of the
nation and its privileges. During the present truce, the
French king decoyed a number of Breton knights to a tournament, seized upon them, and executed them without ever
the form of a trial, disdaining to assign reason or plea for his
conduct. It was presumed that they had entered into communication with England.
In 1345 the war again broke out. The earl of Derby
fought in Gascony against the count of Lille-Jourdain; the
latter besieged Auberoche. The garrison sent a page to summon the English to their aid; the poor envoy was taken,
placed in one of the besiegers' huge engines, and literally
shot back into the town. Derby, however, came unawares on
the French, defeated them, and made prisoners of the greater
part of the nobility of Languedoc. The death of De Montfbrt relaxed the fury of the war in Britany. Edward turned
his arms first to Flanders; but his ally Artaveldt had lost his
influence over his fellow-citizens, and being soon after slain
by them in a tumult, the English king left that part of the
country. The following year Edward mustered his best
forces; resolving no more to harass the frontiers of the enemy,
but to penetrate boldly into his land, and strike, if possible, a
decisive blow. He landed at La Hogue, took Caen, and was
almost incited to massacre the inhabitants on finding that an
engagement had lately been entered into betwixt the Normans and Philip to reconquer England. He allowed himself
to be dissuaded. Edward, from Caen, marched along the left
bank of the Seine to Paris; he stopped at Poissy to find
means for passing the river, and burnt all the towns in the
vicinity of the capital, St. Germain and St. Cloud amongst
others. A body of German auxiliaries having reinforced
Philip, Edward thought it best to retreat northwards through
an unravaged country. The expedition was one of hazard.
Philip now pursued his enemies with a far superior army;
numbers were in advance to intercept the English king, more
especially to prevent his passage of the Somme. Edward,
however, crossed a ford below Abbeville, notwithstanding the
resistance of one of Philip's lieutenants, and the following
day established his camp at Crecy, where he resolved to
await the enemy.
On the morning of the 26th of August, 1346, Edward dram




82                HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1346.
up his army in three lines on a gentle slope, with a wood behind, where he placed baggage and horses. His cavaliers
were to fight on foot; as, from the smallness of the English
numbers,-" one eighth of the French," says Froissart, but at
most one third,-it was requisite they should keep together
and fight on the defensive. Edward, after riding through the
ranks and exhorting his soldiers, cheerfully commanded them
to sit down, to take ample refreshment, and in repose await
the enemy.'Philip in the mean time was leading forth his
numerous host from Abbeville: it was an army lately gathered,
obeying many chiefs, some Genoese, some Germans; undisciplined, weak, and disorderly, from its very numbers. From
Abbeville to Crecy was a march of three or four leagues.
The hour was late, and the French were tired ere they approached the English line. Philip was advised to halt and
await the following day: he gave orders for so doing; but
such was the rivalry of the chiefs, that each would have his
banner next the enemy, and in the disorder they approached
too near the English to retreat or defer the action.  The
choleric Philip, too, when he saw the English array, and its
small extent, became anxious to annihilate his enemies. He
ordered the Genoese cross-bowmen to begin the action; they
were reluctant, and pleaded fatigue. "Kill the lazy ribalds!"
said the count d'Alenmon; and the Genoese were compelled
to attack: they did so with a loud clamor, which was increased by a storm of rain and thunder, and by an immense
flock of crows which hovered over the armies, and was regarded as an evil presage. The English archers advanced
each one step in silence, and by one volley slaughtered and
discomfited the Genoese. The French knights, enraged,
drew their swords on the unfortunate auxiliaries, and cut
their way through to arrive at the enemy. They encountered
the first line of the English under the prince of Wales; and
here was the heat of the battle. Edward was sent to for aid;
but he, who saw the strife and knew the mettle of his men,
refused.  "Let my son win his spurs!" said the monarch;
and bravely did young Edward, afterwards the Black Prince,
earn these symbols of knighthood. The French were beaten,
despite their immense numbers; and as darkness soon came
on to increase the confusion and render it impossible to recognize knight or noble, the slaughter was great. Eleven
princes fell in the field; also nearly a hundred nobles bearing
banners, twelve hundred chevaliers, and thirty thousand sol.
diers. Amongst them were the kings of Bohemia and Majorca, the dukes of Lorraine and Bourbon, the counts of Flanders and Alencon. Godfrey of Harcourt, who was in Edward's
army, saw his brother the count of Harcourt and his two sons




1350.              SIEGE OF CALAIS.                   83
perish in the opposite ranks.  Philip was compelled to take
flight. Such was the battle of Crecy, remarkable for the
noble blood shed in it, and for the brief space in which it was
decided. Though the defeat was owing in a great measure to
the want of discipline and ill assortment of Philip's army, the
chief cause in this, as in other instances, was the contempt
of the French princes and nobles for the present levies and
infantry, to which they evidently preferred the rabble of
foreign mercenaries.  The day after the action large bodies
of the militia of neighboring municipalities arrived, and were
slaughtered by the English. Edward, on the contrary, relied
upon his country's yeomen, and compelled his knights to dismount and fight on foot with them.
After his victory Edward laid siege to Calais. The tide of
fortune was turned everywhere against the French, by the
tidings of Crecy.  John, the son of Philip, besieged Walter
de Manny in the town of Aiguillon; he was now obliged to
raise the siege.  De Manny asked John for permission and
safe-conduct to traverse France in order to reach his master's
army: John granted the safe-conduct; but his father Philip
broke it, and arrested De Manny in his passage through
Orleans. John, an honorable prince, was shocked at his
father's want of faith, and vowed no longer to bear arms unless De Manny was released; and Philip, despite his choler
and feelings of petty vengeance, was obliged to liberate him.
Charles of Blois was about the same time taken prisoner in
Britany. The circumstances attending the siege of Calais,
its distress, the devotedness of its six burgesses, and its final
surrender, are known to every English reader.*  Edward
seemed contented with this fruit of his victory, for a truce of
ten months was soon after agreed on between the monarchs.
The remaining years of the French king's reign are marked
chiefly by the plague which devastated Europe, and which
compelled a prolongation of the truce. Philip of Valois died
in August, 1350.
John was upwards of thirty when he succeeded his father
Philip. The new king was feebler in character than his
predecessor, less choleric and astute.  He was at the same
time more valiant, more amiable, more the preux chevalier,
for already romance-reading had created a peculiar morality
and ideal perfection at which gentle and noble aimed. The
same neglect of justice reigned, however, ard was observable
even in John, whose first steps were to adulterate the coin,
and, in imitation of his father, to decapitate, without trial, a
nobleman, the count de Guines. The states-general were
* See Cab. C-yc. list. Eng. vol. i. p. 250.




84                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1355.
called together, and they voted a pernicious mode of levving
money on every sale that took place. In their assembly of
the year 1355, when the necessities of the monarch had increased, the states established receivers-general, who should
give them an account of the levy. They ordered, moreover,
that nobles and prelates should pay it as well as the commons,
and that they should reassemble at the end of a year to vote
new taxes. This was a bold attempt to acquire the same
privileges which were possessed by the English commons.
The court was in the mean time agitated by the turbulence
of Charles the Bad, king of Navarre. In imitation of the
sovereign's custom of putting his enemies to death without
trial or accusation, Charles assassinated his rival, Louis of
Spain, a favorite with John, and constable of the realm. He
was powerful enough to obtain pardon; nevertheless his intrigues continued. The kingdom  was in a state of the
greatest discontent against the new taxes, especially against
the gabelle.  The king of Navarre, the count of Harcourt,
and others, fomented these disturbances. Charles, eldest son
of John, called the dauphin, as lord of Dauphiny, which Philip
of Valois had purchased for him, was at that time governor
of Normandy. He entertained the king of Navarre and the
lord of Harcourt at dinner. John arriving in the midst of the
feast, armed and well attended, ordered none to stir on pain
of death. He seized the king of Navarre "by the skin,"
dragging him towards him, and exclaimed-" Out, traitor 
thou art not worthy to dine at my son's table. By my father's
soul! I have a mind never to eat or drink while thou livest."
John then ordered the king of Navarre and his followers to
be led out and imprisoned, despite the supplications of the
dauphin, who said he should be dishonored if people suspected
him of such treachery. King John then seized a mace, struck
count Harcourt with it between the shoulders, and told him
to " get to prison in the devil's name;" whereupon calling the
"king of the ribalds," as the captain of the royal guards was
then characteristically denominated, John gave him orders.
Those orders were to behead Harcourt and his followers:
they were executed in the king's presence, after he finished
the dinner at which his son's unfortunate guests had been
sitting. The family of Harcourt, that of the king of Navarre,
and many nobles, renounced their allegiance on learning this
act of violence. The people were equally enraged against
John; but their murmurs and commotions were hushed by
the tidings, that the Black Prince had ravaged Auvergne and
the Limousin, and had entered into the central province of
Berri. John had a respectable army on foot against the partisans of the king of Navarre. He summoned his barons and




{356.             BATTLE OF POITIERS.                  85
knights to reinforce it. All crowded under the banners of the
new monarch to avenge the defeat of Crecy. Prince Edward
had left Bordeaux with no more than 2000 men-at-arms, and
6000 archers and infantry. With this small force he thought
it prudent to retreat; but John had already intercepted him,
and the English, instead of having left their enemies behind,
found them in advance of the town of Poitiers, blocking their
retreat.
The French army, composed of the flower of the nation,
mustered 60,000 strong. The prince of Wales, to compensate
for his inferiority of numbers, took post on a rising ground,
which was surrounded with vineyards and inclosures, and
was only approachable through narrow roads flanked with
hedgerows.  Talleyrand cardinal of Perigord endeavored to
bring about an accommodation.  The Black Prince was not
reluctant to escape from an enemy ten times exceeding his
own force. He offered to restore all his conquests, and bind
himself not to serve against France for seven years. John
insisted that Edward should surrender himself his prisoner;
and the proposal was rejected by the prince as disgraceful.
He gained a day's delay by these negotiations, which he
failed not to employ in casting up intrenchments and fortifying the sides of his position.
On the 19th of September, a corps of French knights was
ordered to clear the road leading to Edward's camp. They
were commanded by D'Andrehen and De Clermont, the two
marshals of France. They spurred on, not more than four
being able to go abreast.  The English archers, who lined
the inside of the hedge, soon stopped the career of the
cavalry by their arrows; and the footmen,. creeping through,
stabbed knights and horses with their knives in the confusion.
The troop was routed, and fell back upon the dauphin's'corps;
a body of English cavalry and archers, which Edward had
placed in ambuscade, then charged upon the French flank:
those commanded by the dauphin were seized with a panic
and fled. The English knights, who were hitherto on foot to
receive the enemy, now mounted their horses, and abandoning their position, charged down the narrow road upon the
enemy, whom they put to the rout and drove before them;
the young princes and many of the French nobles taking
flight. The reserve or hindmost line, however, commanded
by king John in person, still remained unbroken.  Its numbers doubled those of the English army. John, imitating his
enemy's mode of fighting, and desirous to cut off from himself and followers all possibility of flight, gave orders to dismount and combat on foot. The fresh division of the French
charged the English under their marshals lords Suffolk and




86                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 135"
Warwick, the French monarch striking down enemies with
his mace, while his youngest son Philip, afterwards duke of
Burgundy, piously kept eye and arm busied to defend his sire.
Here the battle raged with the greatest fury and slaughter,
the English striving to make the king of France prisoner.
At length, when most of his nobles were either slain around
him or taken, John called out, "Where is my cousin the
prince of Wales?" Edward was not near, and the king was
obliged to give his right glove, in token of surrender, to
Morbec, a knight of Arras.  Others crowded to claim and
dispute so rich a prize, not without danger to the person of
the monarch, until lords Warwick and Cobham arrived to deend him. The battle of Poitiers, according to Froissart, was
better fought than that of Crecy, though not so bloody. The
duke of Bourbon was the only prince slain, though many nobles perished. The number of prisoners was immense, more
than doubling that of the English army; amongst them, thirteen counts, and seventy barons, besides the king and his son.
The conflict lasted from morn till noon. That of Crecy began
at the time of vespers. The Black Prince earned more honor
by his treatment of the captive king than even by his victory.
John was treated in every way as a sovereign: he was
cheered, praised, and even waited on at table, by Edward.
The entry of the royal captive into London was marked by
the same deference.  Nor was this mere empty politeness.
The king of England and his son did not take the utmost advantage of their victory. The right to the crown of France,
which they denied to John at the head of his armies, they no
longer disputed with John, a captive. A truce was concluded
for two years. The English were content with their booty,
their rich prize, and their ample renown.
Charles, the dauphin, who had escaped from the field ol
Poitiers, now took upon him the government of the kingdom.
His first act was to summon the states-general, which met in
two assemblies; those of the south at Toulouse, those of the
north at Paris. The southern states voted levies of men and
money: the northern proved more refractory, and demanded,
as the price of a subsidy, that the ministers should be tried;
that a committee of their own body should be permanent, to
aid the dauphin with its counsel; and, finally, that the king
of Navarre should be released.  The king of Navarre was
the first noble who sought in popularity a counterpoise against
the royal authority.  The popular party was headed by Stephen Marcel, provost or chief of the municipality of Paris.
The king evaded these demands, and tried the old experiment of issuing new and debased money.  An insurrection
was tie consequence: Marcel made his way to the presence




1358.                 THE JAQUERIE.                      87
of the dauphin; and, by his order, the n.arshals Clermont and
Conflans were massacred in Charles's presence. Marcel made
the young prince put on the chaperon or cap, which was the
symbol of insurrection,-a circumstance, repeated in after
times of similar turbulence and misfortune. It is remarkable
how far advanced the Parisians were at this time in their
aims at freedom, and in what has been called revolutionary
tactics. -The other towns and provinces did not, however, approve of the bold notions of the Parisians. Champagne,
especially, declared against them, and the dauphin was enabled
to collect an assembly of states at Compiegne, which condemned the acts of those of Paris.  The provost Marcel released the king of Navarre from prison, in order to procure
an eminent leader for the party. Despite of this, the dauphin's
influence prevailed; Marcel was slain in a tumult, and the
king of Navarre driven from the capital.
Mutual hatred betwixt the nobles and peasants was at this
time general in France.  The former enjoyed their feudal
privileges and superiority as guerdon for defending the country in arms. The defeats of Poitiers and Crecy showed them
unequal to this task; and the French peasantry, who were
not considered by their lords as worthy to wield a sword,
looked on the discomfited knights and barons with contempt.
This spirit of discontent was increased by the weight of the
taxes; not only the public taxes of the gabelle, and the duty
on sales, but-the.private taille, which possessors of fiefs levied
on their tenants, and which were now exorbitant on account
of the ransoms requisite for so many captives; then the disbanded soldiers of both armies increased the disorder by robbery and pillaoe. The reclamation of the states-general, the
effervescence of the population inhabiting the towns, set the
example of license; and everywhere throughout the kingdom
the peasants were vowing vengeance on all nobly born, storming castles, massacring gentlemen and their families, and
putting many to the torture. This popular insurrection was
called the Jaquerie, from the name of Jaques Bonhboyme, or
Jaques, given in derision to the French peasant. The hatred
and contempt of both classes were mutual; Froissart tells triumphantly, "how the gentlemen of Beauvaisy killed great
plenty of Jaques."  Three hundred ladies of rank, with the
duchess of Orleans, were obliged to take refuge in Meaux
from the exasperated peasantry.  Captal de Buch, a Gascon
knight in Edward's service, flew to their rescue, slaughtered
seven thousand of the assailants, and, to crown his revenge,
burnt the town of Meaux " with all the villeins he could shut
up in it."
Afttr two years' c ptivity, kin'l: John sought to release hil,



88                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.              1360.
self by treaty. He agreed to cede to Edward the entire west
of France in sovereignty, together with four thousand crowns
ransom. The dauphin wisely rejected conditions so injurious
to the monarchy, and Edward prepared fbr fresh hostilities.
He landed at Calais in October, 1358, resolved to ravage
those parts of France that had not yet seen his banners. He
entered Champagne; sat down before Rheims, as if with the
wish of having himself crowned king of France in its cathedral; but, abandoning the tediousness of a siege, he penetrated into Burgundy, which, like many towns, purchased an
alliance with him, and exemption from ravages. Edward then
directed his march towards the capital, encamped before it,
and defied the dauphin to battle. That cautious prince replied by burning' the suburbs and keeping himself within the
walls; and in a little time Edward was obliged to retire towards the Loire in search of provisions.
The English king had now traversed the whole circuit of
France as a conqueror. He had full opportunities for observing that he could never establish his authority elsewhere
than in those provinces which he might claim by hereditary
right. He was in years, and was naturally anxious to establish a permanent peace. Perhaps, too, he was somewhat
stricken by remorse at so much devastation and bloodshed.
Edward announced, that during a thunder-storm he had made
a vow to restore peace to the world. Commissioners met on
both sides, and a treaty was concluded at Bretigny between
France and England, in May, 1360: Edward gave up his pretensions to the crown of France, as well as to Normandy.
All Aquitaine and the provinces south-west of the Loire were
ceded in full sovereignty to England, as was the country on
the sea-coast from Calais to the Somme. Three millions of
crowns were to be given as the ransom of king John, who
was within a short time liberated. He reigned three years
after the recovery of his freedom; a period marked chiefly
by the decline of the family of the old dukes of Burgundy,
which became extinct.  They were descended from Robert,
son of Hugh Capet. The crown took possession of that rich
duchy; but John, overlooking the true interests of the monarchy, or ignorant of them, gave Burgundy in appanage to
his fourth son Philip, who had been taken prisoner with him
at Crecy. Though the peace concluded at Bretigny was not
broken, still many of its stipulations remained unfulfilled.
The most flagrant instance of bad faith was the escape from
England of one of the hostages, the duke of Anjou: either
from this cause, or from a wish to negotiate with Edward,
John returned to London, and died at the Savoy palace in the
Strand, in April, 7 364.




1364.           ACCESSION OF CHARLES V.                8.
King John's was an inconsistent character; valiant though
weak, generous and honorable in many instances, but cruel,
and even perfidious in his treatment of count d'Harcourt.
His reign is remarkable as being the period in which the
states-general professed the boldest maxims of freedom, and
made the most vigorous efforts to establish them. They decreed their recognition of the great principle, that no subject
hould be compelled to pay a tax to which he had not legally
assented.  This, to which England held as to an anchor
through every political storm, was soon torn from the grasp
of the French, or abandoned by them. The years 1355 and
1356 may be considered the only period during which the
French monarchy marched in the path of constitutional free.
dom.  They were the moments of a brief and ill-contested
struggle, in which royalty prevailed.  This advantage it
never afterwards lost or conceded. From the days of Marcel
to the Revolution, all attempts to wrest from despotism its
iron sceptre proved vain. The most pernicious and unjust
prerogatives were in course of time held to be sacred; and
henceforth the internal peace and happiness of the nation
came to consist in the forbearance of the master and the submission of the slave.
It was fortunate for the independence, though not for the
liberties of the country, that a prudent and crafty monarch
succeeded to the throne of John. His son, Charles V., is
known by the name of the sage: he had already reigned as
dauphin, and had learned wisdom from adversity and experience.  His first act was to attack that intriguing grandee,
Charles king of Navarre, who had troubled John's reign by
avowing himself the supporter of popular rights. The continuance of the war had called forth warlike talents. Du
Guesclin, a knight of Britany, had signalized himself in the
troubles of the province. Charles, with his characteristic
prudence, selected him as general, and sent him to dispossess
the king of Navarre of the towns which he held in Normandy. John de Grailli, called the captal (lord) de Buch, a
famed captain of Gascony, was opposed to him by Charles of
Navarre. In a combat where great military skill as well as
courage was displayed on both sides, the captal was defeated
and taken by Du Guesclin. The war was then transferred to
Britany. Du Guesclin and Charles of Blois marched against
the troops of De Montfort-most of them English, and commanded by Robert Knolles.  Against these enemies Du
Gresclin was not so successful: ie was taken prisoner, and
Charles of Blois slain. The victory of Auray gave complete
peace to France. John do Montfort was recognized duke of




90               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  1365
Britany by Charles, who at thq same time made peace with
the king of Navarre.
The worst consequences of war continued to afflict and
weigh upon France, notwithstanding the conclusion of these
treaties. The bands of mercenary soldiers, or great companies, which lent their support on hire to the respective monarchs, were now left without pay or service to prey upon the
land.  Charles employed Du Guesclin to treat with these
bands, and bribe them to accompany him across the Pyrenees
to support Henry of Castile against his brother Peter the
Cruel.  They were tempted by the plunder of Avignon,
which lay in their route. The pope endeavored to avert their
march by absolutions, which he lavished on this army of
scoundrels. They accepted the religious immunity, but were
not less severe in their exactions. Du Guesclin, at the head
of these bands, drove Peter the Cruel from Castile. But the
Black Prince and his warriors, impatient of repose, espoused
the part of Peter, and attacking Du Guesclin, vanquished
and took him prisoner. All these events turned to the advantage of France. The prince of Wales, lavish of his resources
as of his valor, was distressed by the expenses of his expedition. He sought to levy, in consequence, an additional tax on
every hearth throughout the province of Aquitaine.- His subjects resisted. The malcontents appealed to Charles V., who,
seeing the infirm state of health both of prince Edward and
his father, listened to the complaints of the barons of Aquitaine.  He summoned the Black Prince to Paris to answer
them. The reply was, a resolve to obey the summons at
"the head of sixty thousand men." The threat was vain.
War was declared. The prince caused himself to be carried
in a litter at the head of his army, and in this state took
Limoges. But his malady gained upon him, and he was
obliged to return and embark for England, where he soon
after expired. Edward III. was not long in following his
heroic son to the grave; and the sceptres of England and
Aquitaine were left in the feeble hands of a minor.
Charles the Sage was not a monarch to let pass such ad
vantage. Du Guesclin was made constable, and commandec
against the English. Still he had strict orders to avoid giving
battle. Instead of confining their efforts to a defence of their
provinces, the English marched from Calais across the whole
extent of France to Bordeaux, ravaging the country, and
exciting the hatred of the population, without gaining their
object of exciting the prudent Charles to a general engagement. The strength of the English armies was thus wasted
in marching and bravado.  De Guesclin watched every opportunity of raining a partial advantage.  The presumption?




1376.        FRANCE REGAINS THE PROVINCES.             91
of the English garrison of Chizey, which attacked very superior forces under the command of the constable, afforded a
triumph to the latter. The capital of Poitiers revolted and
opened its gates to the French. Rochelle followed its example; and this province, the prize of the victories of the Black
Prince, was again lost to the English.
It is evident that the kings of England were struggling
against the course of nature and of events, in endeavoring to
hold possessions in France: whatever was acquired by the
greatest efforts of the statesman, and the most brilliant victories of the hero, was lost again without a single action of
any importance.  The Anglicized provinces again became
French, as waters return to their level. It required but a
word, a decree on the part of the. king of France, and all that
he had alienated again became his.  Thus, whilst the victorious campaigns of the English fill the most brilliant pages of
history, those in which France recovers her provinces are
merely a succession of petty skirmishes and treasons, in
which there is little glory and less interest. The wars of
the reign of Charles V. are of the latter kind; so that it is
sufficient to indicate their result. Du Guesclin alone appears
amongst the French to claim the honor of a hero. He is the
first warrior of modern France-the earliest name in the
bright annals of her military fame. He was strong, and of a
clumsy and even awkward make. When this redoubted warrior was a prisoner at Bordeaux, after his defeat in Castile,
the Black Prince heard it whispered that he retained Du
Guesclin because he feared him. Edward bade him name his
own ransom, and go to seek it.  It was fixed at 100,000
crowns.  The princess of Wales paid a considerable portion
of it, as did John Chandos, the English champion next in repute for valor to prince Edward. Du Guesclin survived his
brave enemies but a few years. He died in 1380, at the siege
of Randan.
One of the last achievements of Du Guesclin was to drive
the newly-acknowledged duke, De Montfort, fiom Britany.
IHe took refuge in England; but Charles having shown an
inclination to destroy the independence of the.province by
uniting it to the crown, the pride of the Breton nobles was
alarmed.  Du Guesclin himself felt, for the first and only
time, his feelings of loyalty abate. The duke was summoned
back from England by the people of the duchy, and welcomed
with more enthusiasm  and attachment than he had ever yet
excited. It was to support the duke of Britany that the duke
of Gloucester led an army into France in the year 1380.
Following the usual tactics of the day, he traversed the coun
try, daring the French to action. They were said to be pre




92                HISTORY )F FRANCE.                 1380.
paring to accept the challenge, when tidings of the dangerous
illness of the king came, to turn the zeal and anxiety of
princes and nobles from patriotic to selfish views.  Charles,
when dauphin, was said to have been poisoned by the king of
Navarre.  An antidote taken opportunely had saved his life,
but left him still weakly. His hair and nails had dropped off
at the time. The remembrance of this peril and the potency
of the poison were said to be the cause of the timidity of his
character, as well as of his early death. It took place in
September, 1380, at the castle of Beaute, on the Marne.
It was not undeservedly that Charles V. obtained the title
of Sage. He succeeded to power in one of the most critical
periods of the monarchy, when, humbled by the English, it
was at the same time threatened by the people, who had risen
to know their rights and to demand them. To have conceded
those rights was not to be expected from a monarch of that
day,-scarcely to be hoped, indeed; for liberty, so valuable as
a conquest, is precarious as a boon. The predecessors of
Charles had raised up the commons to be a counterpoise to
the aristocracy, and had favored the passage of wealth and
importance into plebeian hands. When, however, to insure
this wealth, the commons sought for political privileges and
influence, the monarch turned to crush them.  They had established their rights in the reign of John; but Charles succeeded in putting them down, and effectually destroying them.
In England the aristocracy had always taken the lead in
asserting and defending the liberties, not only of their own
order, but of the country generally.  There was a strong
community of feeling between the English nobles and the
great body of the people, who were raised above the corresponding class in France by their ancient Saxon laws and
free institutions, by a larger exemption from the evils of war,
and by the greater compactness and unity of the country,
which favored the equal distribution of justice. In France,
on the contrary, the peasant was a despised, oppressed creature. The walls of a town alone defended the plebeian; and
to the town every peasant hied that had the least property tenjoy or to preserve. Hence the face of the country was dt
serted by all, save the destitute. Those substantial husbandmen, who formed the class of yeomen in England, disappeared
in France, or were converted into burgesses. In the latter
country, accordingly, the spirit of liberty was confined to the
municipalities, each of which, from the extent and poverty of
the land, was isolated, having no communication or sympathy
with those around it. The partisans of freedom, collected
into partial knots and masses, were thus either easily over
awed and crushed, or, finding themselves superior in force,




1380.                 THE REGENCY.                    93
asserted their independence and privileges with all the license
of a town rabble. They stopped not short of riot and bloodshed, rendered the name of freedom synonymous with disorder, and rallied to the side of royalty all the lovers of security
and peace.
Such is the history of events in France. The states-general wrested from John an acknowledgment of their political
rights.  When the monarch or his son sought to withdraw
these concessions, it was the population of the capital that
rose against their bad faith. The nobility kept aloof; the
peasantry were ignorant of what was going forward. The
Parisians under Marcel, finding themselves in possession of
power, made a turbulent and licentious use of it, massacred
those whom they suspected, and stained their cause with violence and bloodshed.
Charles took advantage of this: he made an appeal to order; and, calling a patched-up assembly of states at Compiegne, he succeeded in crushing the Parisians. During his
reign the cry of liberty was stifled. Charles the Sage seldom
called the states together, or, when he did, it was upon a few
chosen deputies that he bestowed the name. He usurped to
himself the power of levying taxes by proceeding in state to
the parliament, there holding what was called a bed of justice, and ordering his laws or levies to be registered.
Such was the new mode of legislation invented by Charles,
and which endured until the Revolution. The ancient mode
of promulgating a law was to register it in the books of parliament, which was the high court of justice of the kingdom.
Charles assumed this form of promulgation to have the entire
force of legislation; and thus by a trick converted a government, that hitherto at least contained the germs of freedom,
into an absolute monarchy.
Charles the Sage left two sons: Charles VI., who now succeeded him, and had not attained twelve years of aoe; and,
Louis, afterwards duke of Orleans. The infant king had four
uncles to dispute his tutelage, and the direction of affairs:
these were the dukes of Anjou, Berry, and Burgundy, brothers
of the late monarch, and the duke of Bourbon, his brother-inlaw. Charles the Sage, foreseeing the ambition of his relatives, had ordained that the kings of France should attain
their majority at the age of fourteen. He had regulated that
the duke of Anjou should be regent, whilst the dukes of Bur
gundy and Bourbon should have the care of the young king.
The duke of Anjou commenced by pillaging the royal trea
sure. A great proportion of the late monarch's savings was
concealed in the chateau of Melun. The duke summoned the
treasurer ind under menace of the torture compelled him to




94                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1382
point out the part of the wall in which the ingots were built,
and which he immediately tore down. A. the ceremony of
the coronation the duke of Anjou claimed to be at the right
hand of the king, as eldest prince of the blood; the duke of
Burgundy, as first peer of the realm, seized the place, and
kept it.  Upon their return to Paris the quarrel continued,'ut the people paid for it. The treasury was left empty, and
the soldiers were compelled to prey on the country for sup
port. The peasants as well as the municipality of Paris rose
but there seems to have been no understanding between
bodies so distinct as the citizens and the peasantry. The dukes
were obliged to repeal the new taxes; but the government
could not proceed without them. Fresh ones were proclaimed.
The mob attacked the receivers, broke into the arsenal, seized
a quantity of leaden mallets-the only weapons at hand,-and
forced all the palaces and prisons. Rouen imitated the example of Paris, but was severely punished by the duke of Anjou.
The young king and his uncle made a kind of compromise
with the Parisians, and were permitted to enter the capital.
The duke of Anjou saw that spoliation became more difficult
in France.  His cousin Jeanne, queen of Naples, had bequeathed to him by testament all the rights of the first house
of Anjou-the kingdom of Naples, and the county of Provence. The sovereignty was, nevertheless, claimed by Charles
of Durazzo.  The duke of Anjou departed from France with
all his wealth and a brilliant army, to conquer his new heritage. He marched through Italy, and invaded Naples, his rival
retiring before him. But being seized with a malady, brought
on by his fatigues, he died; and his army, dispersing itself,
made the best of its way home in scattered bands.
Philip duke of Burgundy, though the youngest son of king
John, was by far the most powerful of the brothers. In addition to the duchy and county of Burgundy, (the latter is
known as FrancLe-Cornte,) he had married the daughter and
heiress of the last count of Flanders, and was thus heir tc
that wealthy province. The Flemish burgesses were foremost
in supporting their privileges and independence: they were
always at war with their count, who, from his alliance with
Burgundy, naturally sought the aid of the king of France.
The young Charles was delighted at the idea of a campaign
an army was levied; the orifliamme, or royal standard,
hoisted; and the French, under their monarch of fourteen,
advanced northwards. The object of the expedition was not
only to restore to the count of Flanders his authority, but tc
punish the turbulent commons, who stirred up those of France
to imitate their example.  Froissart avows it to have been a
war between the commons and the aristocracy.  The Flen




1382.          VICTORY OF ROSEBECQUE.                  95
ings were commanded by Artaveldt, son of the famous brewer
the ally of Edward.  The town of Ghent had been reduced
to the extreme of distress and famine by the count and the
people of Bruges, who supported him.  Artaveldt led the
people of Ghent in a forlorn hope against Bruges, defeated the
army of the count, and broke into the rival town, which he
took and plundered.
After this disaster, tl-.e count had recourse to France. The
passage of the river Lys, which defended Flanders, was courageously undertaken, and effected with some hazard by the
French.  The Flemings were rather dispirited by this first
success: nevertheless they assembled their forces; and the
two armies of French knights and Flemish citizens met at
Rosebecque, between Ypres and Courtray.  The 27th of
November, 1382, was the day of battle. Artaveldt had stationed his army on a height, to await the attack of the French,
but their impatience forced him to commence.  Forming his
troops into one solid square, Artaveldt led them against the
French centre. Froissart compares their charge to the headlong rush of a wild boar.  It broke the opposite line, penetrating into its ranks: but the wings of the French turned
upon the flank of the Flemings, which, not having the advantage of a charge or impulse, were beaten by the French
men-at-arms.  Pressed upon one another, the Flerings had
not room to fight: they were hemmed in, surrounded, and
slaughtered: no quarter was asked or given; nearly'30,000
perished. The 9000 Ghentois that had marched under their
banner were counted, to a man, amongst the slain: Artaveldt,
their general, was among the foremost who had fallen. Charles
ordered his body to be hung upon a tree.
It was at Courtray, very near to the field where this battle
was fought, that Robert of Artois, with a French army, had
perished beneath the swords of the Flemings, nearly a century previous.  The gilded spurs of the French knights still
adorned the walls of the cathedral of Courtray. The victory
of Rosebecque in the eyes of Charles had not sufficiently repaid the former defeat: the town of Courtray was pillaged
and burnt; its famous clock was removed to Dijon, and
formed the third wonder of this kind in France, Paris and
Sens alone possessing similar ornaments. The battle of Rosebecque proved more unfortunate for the communes of France
than for those of Flanders. Ghent, notwithstanding her loss
of 9000 slain, did not yield to the conqueror, but held out the
war for two years longer; and did not finally submit until the
duke of Burgundy, at the death of their count, guarantied to
the burghers the full enjoyment of their privileges.  The
king avenged himself on the mutinous city of Paris; entered




96                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1382,
it as a conqueror; took the chains from the streets, ard unhinged the gates: one hundred of the citizens were sent to
the scaffold; the property of the rich was confiscated; and
all the ancient and most onerous taxes, the gabelle, the duty
on sales, as well as that of entry, were declared by royal
ordonnance to be established anew. The principal towns of
the kingdom were visited with the same punishments and
exactions. The victory of Rosebecque overthrew the commons of France, which were crushed under the feet of the
young monarch and his nobles.
The wish of Charles the Sage had been, that his son should
marry a German princess: Isabella of Bavaria was mentioned. She was induced to make a pilgrimage to Amiens, whero
the young king saw her and admired her beauty.  His marriage took place in a few days after. The following year was
spent in mighty preparations for an invasion of England: a
large fleet and army was assembled at Sluys, and every
province was drained of men and provisions to complete the
expedition. The king himself was eager to embark; but his
uncle, the duke of Berri, not famed for courage, purposely
delayed the departure, and the project was finally abandoned.
At length the young king liberated himself from the tutelage of his uncle. He declared in council that he alone would
conduct the affairs of the kingdom for the future: he changed
his ministers, and gave the post commanding the chief influence to the constable De Clisson, a friend of Du Guesclin,
and like him a Breton. De Clisson was a grim old veteran;
brave, unyielding, and having many enemies, among whom
was the duke of Britany, lately reconciled to France.  One
night the constable was attacked by a band of assassins in the
street, and left for dead. The perpetrator of this outrage,
De Craon, fled to Britany; the king vowed vengeance, and
raised an army to punish the duke of Britany and De Craon.
As he was leading it from the town of Le Mans, in a burning
day of August, a maniac rushed from an adjoining wood, seized his bridle, and told him he was betrayed: soon after, the
spear of one of his attendants fell on the helmet of another;
the king was alarmed, and thought of the menaced treachery.
The fright disturbed his reason, and, drawing his sword,
Charles attacked his followers, slew some of them, who made
no resistance, till he flew at his brother the duke of Orleans;
they then perceived his loss of reason. He was deprived of
his arms, and reconducted to Paris. The royal dukes resumed
their hold of power: Burgundy menaced the constable, threatening to beat out " his other eye;" and De Clisson fled to his
castle for safety. During the recovery of the king, another
accident happened, to which his madness has been generally




1400.      DUKES OF ORLEANS AND BURGUNDY.             97
attributed. There was a masquerade, in which Charles and
some of his courtiers appeared in the disguise of satyrs,
dressed in shirts daubed with pitch and covered with flax:
these happened to take fire. The king's unlucky garment
was quenched in time, but several of his companions perished. Though this accident did not immediately affect him, yet
the malady soon after returned with increased violence, and
for the remainder of his life Charles VI. continued a maniac,
though his frenzy had lucid intervals of short duration.
The beginning of the century marks the breaking forth of
the differences between the dukes of Orleans and Burgundy.
The former, though brother to the unfortunate king, and now
at the mature age of thirty, was deprived of all influence in
the council or in affairs of state. When Charles had thrown
off the authority of his uncles, the duke of Orleans and De
Clisson succeeded to their influence. The malady of the king
threw Orleans into the shade. This was the original cause
of rivalry; they were two political parties struggling for
power.  The duke of Berri was of a peaceable and timid
character. Burgundy took the lead. Valentine Visconti, the
duchess of Orleans, who had great power over Charles even
in his frenzy, was accused of acquiring it by sorcery: the
party of Orleans used recrimination: then a mutual hatred
existed between the two duchesses; and divers causes, some
of them scandalous, are recorded. The duke of Orleans was
a libertine: to pne of his amours at this period, France owes
Dunois the famous bastard of Orleans, founder of the house
of Longueville. The duke of Burgundy was sumptuous, prodigal, and choleric.* In the struggle between uncle and nephew
all feelings of the public good or public services were lost
sight of; each pillaged the treasury, when an opportunity
occurred, and then blamed his rival for the distress that ensued. The duke of Orleans brought a body of troops to Paris;
his uncle imitated him; and for several weeks the respective
armies occupied the capital, neither daring to strike the first
blow. A peace was patched up between them. The duke of
Burgundy, taking this opportunity to visit his duchy, Orleans
levied a new tax, putting the name of Burgundy to the ordonnance. The latter duke protested against the forgery,
disclaimed all knowledge of the tax, and refused to share in
it, alleging that the people were overburdened already. This
conduct and his apparent disinterestedness endeared Burgundy to the Parisians, and to the commons in general, while
Orleans was proportionally hated. Chance, more than the
* The etrennes, or new-year's gifts, presented by him on thi:st Jdnuary
1402, amounted to 40,000 crowns.




98                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1407.
merits of either duke, threw the whole weight of popularity
into one scale, and for the moment it prevailed. The king,
however, incapable as he was of using his reason or discretion, even in his lucid intervals, or of making himself cogni
zant of affairs, was still allowed to recover authority, when
his senses returned. In one of these moments edicts were
issued, admitting the queen to the council, and ordering that
she should be obeyed. The duke of Orleans by these means
regained the ascendant, and availed himself of it to pillage
the treasury of a sum lately raised by a severe and distressing
tax. The schism of the popedom at the same time contributed
to embroil the princes. The death of Philip duke of Burgundy occurred about this period, and the absolute power of
misrule devolved, without dispute, on his nephew.
To follow minutely the alternate ascendency of the two
parties, and their selfish struggle for power, would but weary
and disgust the reader. John, the new duke of Burgundy,
succeeded to his father's position; he was called John the
Fearless,-an epithet which spoke sufficiently his audacious
character. Not many years previous he had led a crusade
against the Turks, and was taken prisoner, with many nobles
of France, by the famous Bajazet. It cost the good towns of
Burgundy a large contribution to release him. The rapacity
of the duke of Orleans threw the appearance of right on the
side of Burgundy, who moreover professed himself the foe
of tyranny and the friend of the suffering commons. New
armies were raised, and again disbanded after a hollow truce
and forced reconciliation. The princes slept in the same bed
in token of perfect amity. The very evening that succeeded
this close renewal of intimacy, a band of assassins, headed
by Raoul d'Auquetonville, stationed themselves, by order of
Burgundy, in a street through which the duke of Orleans
must necessarily pass in repairing to visit the queen. They
sent him a false summons from her: he hastened to obey it
with few attendants; and was instantly set upon by the assassins, who killed and even mangled him with their hatchets.
Great was the alarm: the duke of Burgundy exclaimed
against the authors of so infamous a murder; but when the
provost of Paris declared before the council that he had a clue
to discover the perpetrators, and that he would not fail to
bring them to justice provided he was permitted to search
the hotels of the princes, Burgundy grew pale. The other
princes declared that their palaces were open to the provost's
search; but the duke hesitated, and calling aside his uncle,
the duke of Berri, confessed that, tempted by the devil, he
had instigated the murder. On the first avowal of this audacious crime the princes were thunderstruck, and looked at one




1407.             BATTLE OF IIASBAIN.                99
another in silence. Natural indignation was called forth. A
council assembled, from which the duke of Burgundy found
himself excluded; he instantly fled from Paris to his nearest
fortress, Bapaume, and there collected forces. The princes
were obliged to smother their resentment.  Burgundy returned to Paris, openly avowed and justified the assassination
f his nephew, hiring at the same time a university doctor to
rgue publicly the justice and praiseworthiness of the act.'Tyrants," said the doctor, "place themselves above and
beyond the law; to punish them recourse must be had to
means beyond the law. It is only the very powerful and noble who can command these means; and, consequently, with
them principally it becomes a duty."  But what chiefly emboldened the duke to avow such a crime, was the fact that
the legal process of trial was itself but a tedious kind of
assassination; and the midnight vengeance of the bravo about
as equitable and respectable as the noonday decisions of judge
and executioner.  Some time after, Burgundy committed a
no less atrocious act, in causing Montague to be tried and
hanged. He was a man sprung from the people, a financier,
and a minister beloved by the king, who in his frenzy could
not protect him: his crime was his wealth; and the immediate cause of his death was a festival in which he had eclipsed
in splendor those of the princes of the blood.
The insurrection of the people of Liege against their bishop,
a creature of the duke of Burgundy, called the latter from
Paris. His influence had caused John, a younger brother of
the house of Bavaria, to be elected bishop; John took deacon's
orders to entitle him to assume the episcopal sovereignty, but
he refused to be priested, preferring the helmet to the mitre.
The Liegeois were discontented at having a profane knight
in lieu of a bishop; they entreated and petitioned John to
take upon him the sacerdotal character. He laughed at them.
They rebelled and drove him out. Such was the crime of the
Liegeois. The duke of Burgundy marched against them; a
battle was fought at Hasbain, in which the burgesses of Liege
were as unfortunate as those of Ghent had been at RoseIecque. It is said that 26,000 dead were counted on the field
)f battle.
This victory, won by the duke of Burgundy, intimidated'he party of Orleans that had already raised its head in Paris.
New submissions were made to him, and a reconciliation,
hollow as preceding ones, took place at Chartres. Meantime
the young duke of Orleans had attained the age of manhood;
he married the daughter of count Armagnac, a Gascon nobleman, of influence in his rude land, warlike, fierce, and not
rlnitted to lead a party in these days of open strife. By
7




100               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1413
his aid the party of Orleans was revived. Armagnac called
towards Paris a little army of his Gascon followers, a savage, sanguinary race; in cruelty they far surpassed the Burgundians:-murder, torture, every species of violence and
destruction, marked their steps. The opposite party would
not be surpassed in vengeance, and the civil war between
Burgundians and Armagnacs became marked with inhuman
ferocity.
The city of Paris, according to its old predilection, favored
Burgundy. Still its respectable citizens were found wanting
in zeal. Arms were intrusted to the company of butchers,
who formed themselves into regiments, and soon became the
terror of the city.  The Armagnacs penetrated north of
Paris. The Gascon soldiers, preferring a plundering life in
the midst of France to their own rude and poor homes, were
constant to their banners. The duke of Burgundy, on the
other hand, could not get his Flemings to quit their families
and crafts for more than forty days; he was therefore obliged
to call in the English. Henry IV. sent a body of archers to
his aid, with whom he drove his enemies from the north of
the capital; this was in February. In May we find Henry
in league with the Orleans party, who were to restore to
the English, in recompense, all their ancient possessions in
France.  The emissary who bore this treaty was seized at
Boulogne; its contents were made public, and great odium
was in consequence excited against the Armagnacs.  The
hapless monarch, Charles, recovering for a moment from his
frenzy, joined in the indignation: he called an army, displayed the oriflamme, and marched with the Burgundians to
besiege Bourges.  The campaign, as usual, ended without
an action, in a kind of treaty. Both parties felt the thirst of
pillage and of blood; both wanted the courage to decide their
differences in a general combat. No period of history manifests such an utter want of talent; no prowess was shown
except in tournaments; no statesmanship save in the planning
of a murder.  Although the passions of men possessed of
power and means were excited to the utmost, yet not a decisive blow was struck in policy or in arms. The fortune of
the struggling parties was left to events-to chance. Success
and reverse, the former at least, if not both, unearned, alternately ensued; conquerors and conquered pursued and fled,
rolling like destructive waves over the necks of a prostrate
and ruined people. Civil wars in general, destructive as
they are of peace and prosperity, beget at least the virtue of
courage; yet it was not so in France. The peasantry were
crushed and trodden down; the nobles and knights feared to
trust tlhm with arms. The Bretons and the Gascons, natives




t415.        HENRY V. SEIZES HARFLEUR.             101
of distant provinces, were the only foot-soldiers, the sole
Infantry of France at this time; and a handful of English
sufficed in these quarrels to give the advantage to either
party.
The Burgundians next experienced evil fortune. They
had gone too far in letting loose the democratic spirit of the
Parisians. The butchers, whom they had made paramount,
abused their power, broke into the palace of the dauphin, in
sulted him, and rendered the young prince as well as the
better order of the citizens weary of the yoke of Burgundy.
~The Armagnacs were emboldened to advance upon the capital; some of the citizens took arms against the butchers. The
dauphin favored the reaction, and Burgundy was- obliged to
fly; his party, deprived of the support of the Parisians, was
routed. Charles IV. marched in person against him at the
head of the Armagnacs, besieged and took Soissons, of
which the inhabitants of every age and sex were inhumanly
massacred. Arras was next invested; but the Armagnacs
becoming disgusted at the tediousness of the siege, as the
Burgundians had been the previous year at that of Bourges,
an accommodation ensued, the duke of Burgundy making
verbal submissions.
Whilst France was thus occupied and torn by civil contests, Henry V. had succeeded to the throne of England: his
youthful ardor prompted him to emulate the third Edward
and the Black Prince; and in the year 1415 he embarked
with an army at Southampton, and landed at the mouth of
the Seine. He sat down before Harfleur, and took it after a
month's siege. The season was already too far advanced for
any serious enterprise, and Henry contented himself with
the project of marching from Harfleur to Calais. The French
had suspended their quarrels in the presence of a foreign
enemy. The king himself fixed his quarters at Rouen, and
summoned thither his knights and nobles, who thronged in
numbers sufficient to treble the English army. Henry endeavored to cross the Somme, but every ford and passage was
guarded, and he was obliged to ascend the river nearly to
St. Quentin ere he was able to ford. During the delay caused
by this march the French had ample time to throw their whole
force between the English and Calais. They had challenged
Henry to fix a day and a field of action: he replied with sarcasm, that he did not skulk within walls or towns, but held
his way and pitched his camp in the open field; and that
they might choose any post between him and Calais:-if
impeded, he would force his way.
The French, under the constable D'Albret, followed Henry's suggestion, and posted themselves on the road which the




102              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1415
English monarch must pursue, between the villages of Agincourt and Framecourt: they were 50,000 strong. lExcept
the king, the dukes of Berri and Burgundy, all the princes
of the blood were present. There were, however, but few
Burgundians; and a corps of 6000 burgesses that Paris offered
to furnish was rejected with contempt. On the 24th of October the English army approached; its strength is estimated
by Lefebvre St. Remi, who fought in the action, at 1000 menat-arms and 10,000 soldiers. In the night of the 24th, the
armies encamped a league apart, under a heavy rain, neither
side exulting; and the French observed, as an unusual fact
and an evil omen, that not a steed was heard to neigh during
the night.  On the following morning Henry, mounted on
a gray pony and wearing a helmet adorned with a crown,
ordered his battle, placing his little band of knights in the
centre, so that their banners were thick together, his archers
at the sides and strewn along the front. The French, as
usual, were drawn up in three lines: princes, nobles, and
chevaliers thronged to the front; and being flanked by two
woods, they had not room to extend their line or to fight as
they stood. Still they determined to remain on the defensive. The battles of Poitiers and Crecy had been lost by the
French assuming the offensive and commencing the attack;
now they resolved to await it. Henry was therefore obliged
to advance, and his archers soon began to send their deadly
showers of arrows amidst the thick ranks of the French
Clignet de Brabant and the count de Vendome were ordered
to advance with a body of knights to clear away the archers.
In this they met with bad success. The field, which had
been lately sown, was soaked with rain; the trampling had
converted it into deep mud, and it was with difficulty that
the horses, bearing men in heavy armor, could extricate
themselves or perform aught like a charge. The English
archers were defended by stakes which each man stuck before him. The French could not force them. Their horses,
galled and maddened by the arrows, rushed back on the
main body of the French and threw it into confusion. The
English advanced; the archers with hatchets and leader
mallets, leading into the trenches of the line, commenced the
massacre. Fixed in the mud, without room to wield their
arms, or discipline to hold together and afford mutual aid, the
French knights were either slain, or, by uncovering their
heads, made themselves known and surrendered. The second
and third lines, composed of the least eminent of the French,
made no resistance, but instantly fled. The English dared
not to pursue. They were outnumbered and surrounded by
their prisoners and vanquished enemies; and i body of them




1415.            BATTLE OF AGINCOURT.                 103
having presented a show of resistance, Henry felt obliged to
give orders that each man should kill his prisoners. This was
refused; and he commanded 200 archers especially to execute
this odious task. Thus, many of the French were massacred
in cold blood, until Henry, seeing that his fears were not
founded, put a stop to the slaughter. It has been said by
historians, and has been generally repeated, that the three
great defeats of the French were principally owing to the
mad impetuosity, the absurd courage, of the nobles. Hume,
a favorer of the French nation and of gentility, has accredited
this. It is not easy to see in this the cause of their reverses.
At Agincourt certainly they showed rather a want of manhood. Caution was observed in every movement. Though
five times more numerous than the English army, they still
kept on the defensive, and, when attacked, they surrendered
in a panic: they had here no Du Guesclin, no Bayard, no
gallant king John; even the barbarous and sanguinary quarrels between Orleans and Burgundy had stifled courage as
well as humanity in the national character.
It is but fair to remark, that in these days of shame the
family of Bourbon bore their escutcheon without a stain. One
duke had fallen at Crecy; another in the subsequent war;
and a prince of the house at Poitiers.  The reigning duke
of Bourbon had shown honest indignation at the murder of
the duke of Orleans, and had retired from court and public
life, rather than countenance the murder or submit to him.
He reappeared at Agincourt, and was made prisoner there,
together with the young duke of Orleans.
Agincourt proved a victory more for the Burgundians than
for the English.  Henry marched to Calais without seeking
farther advantages. But Burgundy, though he had lost two
sons in the action, had his army of followers unbroken; whilst
the captivity of the duke of Orleans, and the death of the
constable and other leaders, left their side destitute. The
activity of count Armagnac sufficed, however, to rally and
support the party. He was appointed constable; and he still
held possession of Paris, and kept the Burgundians at bay.
The Parisians, wearied with the tyranny of the Armagnacs,
regretted their infidelity to the cause of Burgundy. Count
Armagnac, who saw their fickleness, redoubled his cruelties,
and resolved to repress treason by terror. Nevertheless, some
of the citizens opened one of the gates of Paris to the Burgundians in the night.  The Armagnacs were routed; the
count himself, and his principal supporters, were seized and
imprisoned. The butchers and all the Burgundian rabble that
had been exiled returned, and vengeance on the Armagnacs
became the general cry.  Those suspected of favoring the




104               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1419
Orleans party were massacred. The prisons, full of unfortu
nate victims, were forced by the populace, and all found
within were slaughtered. When the populace had got possession of the Chatelet, the prisoners were summoned one by
one, and as they issued forth their heads were struck off.
Four bishops and two parliamentary presidents perished in
this sanguinary prelude to scenes that disgraced the same spot
at a period nearer to our times. Count Armagnac himself
did not escape. After massacring him, the Burgundians cut
from his body an echarpe, or sash of flesh, in derision, a
white sash being the emblem of the Armagnacs.  The pen
shrinks from exciting disgust by detailing the horrible cruelties committed.
The reader is, no doubt, surprised at the total silence of
the church amidst these feuds: but the power of the popedom
was divided and nullified at this period by a schism; and
rather unfortunately, for there never was a period during
which its authority might have been used with greater advantage to the public peace.
Henry V. returned to follow up his victory.  He made
himself master of Normandy; Rouen surrendered to him in
January, 1419; and he thence advanced towards Paris. These
successes of a foreign enemy naturally tended to unite the
adverse parties. That of Orleans had now at its head Charles
the dauphin.  He was the fifth son of Charles VI. that had
borne this title, his four elder brothers having died successively. Charles was a mere stripling, surrounded by the old
captains of the Armagnacs, who, under cover of a reconciliation in order to repel the English, meditated to satisfy their
private revenge upon the duke of Burgundy. A conference
was agreed on between the duke and the dauphin.  They
were to meet on the bridge of Montereau, each attended by
ten knights. The duke was repeatedly warned not to trust
himself to his enemies; but it was remarked, that, since the
massacre of Paris, he seemed infatuated, and that he had lost
his usual activity and prudence.  He had no sooner bent his
knee before the dauphin, than Tanneguy du Chatel pushed
him down, and struck him with his ax: the blow was followed up by others; and the duke of Burgundy fell murdered
at the feet of the dauphin, who did not deny his participation
in the deed. Thus John the Fearless encountered a fate
similar to that which he had inflicted on his rival and nephew,
the duke of Orleans.
Never was crime more impolitic.  Paris became irreconcilably hostile to the dauphin. Philip, the young duke of
Burgundy, thought but to revenge his father; and, hastening
to Henry V., tendered to him the crown of France, with the




1422.         REVIEW OF CHARLES'S REIGN.              105
promise of his utmost aid to support his claim. The treaty
of Troyes was soon after concluded between them, queen
Isabel acting and signing for the king. By this treaty,. Henry
V. espoused Catherine, the daughter of Charles VI., and was
to succeed to the throne of France, the government of which
immediately devolved on him as regent, pending the incapacity of the king. The duke of Burgundy did homage to
Henry for his fiefs, and acknowledged him  his future sovereign. The magistrates, the people of Paris, and the states
general assembled, were witnesses and parties to the treaty;
nor did they murmur to see the kingdom conveyed to a stran
ger, so profound was their hatred of the dauphin and the
party of Orleans. Henry V., however, did not live to wear
the crown of France; he expired at Vincennes, in August,
1422.  The helpless Charles VI. survived him nearly two
months.
There is no progress to record; no institutions took birth
during this melancholy reign: civilization, in a moral view,
much retrograded; in a political view, made no advance. A
total want of principle or rational motive was equally observable in the individual and in the mass. The sentiment of patriotism was utterly extinguished; and with it the esprit dc
corps, the spirit of caste or class, which gives vigor to the
social frame, and which, in a rude age especially, is far preferable to that baser spirit of party, which consists not in
principles or political views, but in a mere blind attachment
to individuals or families, to a badge or a name. Church and
king, aristocracy and democracy, fade from the scene as the
reign of Charles VI. advances. The Burgundian, indeed, for
a brief space, gives to his cause a popular color, but soon
ceases to affect this, or even recollect it. The burgesses and
nobles themselves become too much absorbed in the quarrel,
to form a third or a national party. The nation, splitting itself to abet personal feuds without a single principle or true
interest at stake, continuing them from that savage love of
vengeance and that eagerness to retaliate crime by crime
which characterize the most barbarous and uninformed state of
human society, disappears, and becomes extinct.  On the
contrary, the parties both of Lancaster and York were obliged
not only to flatter the people, as Burgundy commenced by doing, but to sanction their privileges and to amend the abuses
of government; and thus England, either from her compactness, public spirit, or better fortune, acquired at a critical
period an immense advantage over her neighbor in the race
of political civilization.
France was now rnenly divided between rival monarchs.'hre infant Henry V  was proclaimed in Paris, and all the




106               IIIST'ORY OF FRANCE.                1424.
northern parts of the kingdom obeyed his u ]le, the duke of
Bedford, as regent.  The counties south of the Loire acknowledged Charles VII., the late dauphin, a youth of affable
manners, amiable, and naturally weak in character.  Adversity, remedying the latter defect, had rendered him prudent
crafty, and even bold; for with the slaying of the duke of
Burgundy he commenced his career. Whenever the pressure
of his foes relaxed so as to allow him tranquillity, he manifested that love of pleasure which was the characteristic of
the house of Valois.  He could not indulge, however, in the
prodigality of his uncles: the difficulty with which, at this
time, he even furnished his table, is recorded. He rather inclined to the pursuit of gallantry, the most venial of kingly
vices.
By his enemies Charles was called, in derision, " the little
king of Bourges," from the town in which he chiefly resided;
and so low had fallen his prospects and resources, that this
raillery to him must have had all the bitterness of truth.
Such were the neglect of discipline and want of confidence
in the French, since the day- of Azincourt, that he placed
small reliance on them. Soldiers were solicited from Milan
and from Scotland.  The earl of Buchan had arived with
5000 or 6000 of his countrymen to aid the dauphin, before
the death of the late king. He had defeated the English at
Beauj6, where the duke of Clarence was slain. Charles waa
so delighted with this first success of his cause, that he created the earl of Buchan constable of France.  These advantages did not continue. A body of Scotch and Spaniards, in
the service.of the dauphin, was defeated at Crevant. At
Verneuil a general engagement took place between the English under the duke of Bedford, and the united French and
Scotch under the count de Narbonne and the earls of Douglas.
and of Buehan. The French abandoned their custom of drawing up in separate lines. Both armies gathered in a mass,
the English flanked by their archers, the French by Lombard
horse.  The Lombards appear to have been suecessful, but
soon abandoned fight for pillage. The mass of bo.h armies
charged together, and there ensued a furious mele, which
lasted an hour. The French were routed. Harcourt, Aumale,
and Narbonne, as well as the earls of Douglas and Buchan,
were slain.
This was a dreadful blow for Charles: not a town north of
the Seine held out against the duke of Bedford; and it was
apprehended that, should he attempt to cross thau rivcr,
Charles was without an army to oppose him.  Fortune interfered, however, at this time, interrupted the successes of the
Englishl, and finllly broke cGff that powerful alliance with




1428.             SIEGE OF ORLEANS.                   107
Britany and Burgunldy which rendered them  masters of the
north. Jaqueline, heiress of Hainault and Holland, had been
given in marriage by the duke of Burgundy, her feudal guardian, to the duke of Brabant; she was a woman of spirit and
beauty, and soon began to despise her husband, who was a
feeble character. She left him, fled to England, obtained a
nullification of her marriage vow from pope Martin, and married the duke of Gloucester, brother of the duke of Bedford,
and his colleague in the regency. Gloucester claimed his
wife's heritage of Hainault, and raised an army to support
his pretensions; thus expending in his private cause the resources which might have been employed for the subjugation
of France. Still worse than this, the claim brought an English prince in hostility with the duke of Burgundy, who supported his vassal of Brabant. Charles about the same time
won over the duke of Britany from England, through the
means of the count De Richemont, his brother; this prince
had been taken at Agincourt, and had conceived a mortal
hatred to the English. The king gave him the office of constable, vacant by the death of the earl of Buchan; and in return for this, the count detached Britany from the interests
of England.  These ill-timed quarrels and crosses checked
the progress of the duke of Bedford, who was obliged to return to England; and Charles VII., in his retreat beyond the
Loire, enjoyed a couple of years' respite from the attacks of
his formidable adversaries.
Yet the interval was not occupied in defensive preparations, but in those petty intrigues and struggles for power
which haunt even the shadow of a court. Charles was much
given to private friendship: this, which is a virtue in ordinary life, proved a vice upon the throne; and the stern warriors, or the proud nobles, who would not stoop to win the
personal affection of the monarch, looked with eyes of hate
on those who did. The new constable, above all, could not
bear a rival; and the king, who liked not his domineering
character, always offered one to him. De Giac, the favorite,
was surprised and carried off by order of the constable, who
nut an end to his life by drowning.  The king could not ex.
ist without a private friend: he accepted one from the constable, in Louis de la Tremouille, whom  Richemont soon
found to be a rival and an enemy as troublesome as Giac.
The English at length resolved to strike a blow that should
decidedly crush the hopes of Charles. They laid siege to
Orleans the principal town and support of his party, its chief
and last strong hold. Charles now felt that the struggle was
for his crown.  His bravest captains flung themselves intc
the place, and every exertion was made for a vigorous an(




108               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1423
successful resistance.  The enterprise undertaken by the
English was arduous. Orleans, washed by a broad and rapid
river, could not, but with great difficulty, be invested. The
earl of Salisbury first endeavored to carry it by assault, but
was slain by a stone from an engine. Lord Suffblk, who succeeded him, undertook the hopeless task of a blockade; but
as the town was always free to ingress and egress, at least
of warriors, this operation was rather a campaign than a
siege  The bastard of Orleans, La Hire, and Saintraille,
were the heroes of the French.  As the war ceased to be
civil, and grew national, heroism  and military talent sprung
up. By the acknowledgment of their own historian, the
French learned skill and discipline from their enemies. The
three French leaders, with John Stuart, constable of the
Scotch, attacked an English convoy under Sir John Fastolffe:
they were routed; and the Scotch, with their leader, were
slain to a man. It being time of Lent, the convoy was of
herrings, and the action is known by this name. The English still retained their superiority, and Orleans was not likely
long to hold out, when a personage, intrusted, according to
popular belief, with a celestial mission, came to pluck courage
from the hitherto stout hearts of the besiegers, and give it,
with all the enhancing force of superstition, to the French.
This was Joan of Arc, a native of Domremi on the Meuse,
whose low condition, that of tending oxen, could not stifle an
enthusiastic and devout temperament.  Prophecies floated
about the country that a virgin could alone rid France of her
enemies. Similar prophecies respecting children and shepherds had prevailed during the crusades, but had not proved
fortunate. At an early period these prophecies had fixed the
attention of Joan. In her lonely way of life, her imaginative
spirit dwelt on them; they became identified with her religious creed. During the state of ecstasy which devotion
causes in persons of such sensitive and enthusiastic character, aught that flatters or exalts self is grasped with wild
avidity; so closely is mortal baseness allied with our aspirations after immortality. It could not but occur to Joan, that
she might be the object of these prophecies; it was but a short
and flattering step for her credulity to suppose, to believe,
that she was. The idea was bright and dazzling;-she gazed
upon it; —it became the object of her constant meditation.
When we see that ill success or contradictory events can seldom dissipate illusion in suc'h cases, how strongly must her
successes have confirmed hers! The prophecy, too, was one
that realizes itself. To inspire confident hope of victory was
the surest wav to win it; and this she effected. Never, by




1429.                JOAN OF ARC.                   109
human means alone, was miracle wrought more effectually
or more naturally.
Joan won first upon a knight to believe, at least not to contemn, the truth of her mission; which was to deliver France
from the English, to raise the siege of Orleans, and bring
Charles to be crowned at Rheims. Her credit soon extended
from knights to nobles. Charles himself, in that crisis when
men grasp at straws, still dreaded the ridicule of being
credulous, and the danger of meddling with sorcery; a priest
reassured him. The simple, modest, and pious conduct of
Joan herself gained upon the monarch, and even upon his
warriors.  She was provided with armor, attendants, trops'
and in this train entered Orleans. The besieged were elated
beyond measure; the English, whom her fame had already
reached, were proportionally cast down. Superstition was
then the ruler of men's minds, the great dispenser of hope
and fear; the immediate hand of providence was seen in
every event. The world did not comprehend, nor could it
have been reconciled to, that long chain of causes and effects
which separates, it might be said which exiles, us of this day
from heaven, and renders the Deity, like his platonic shadow,
careless and uncognizant of human destinies.
Joan soon sallied forth against the English intrenchments.
Already, since the rumor of her presence, they had abandoned
the offensive, and even allowed a convoy of provisions to enter
the town between their posts. The inactivity of superstitious
terror was attributed to Joan's magic influence, and became
morally infectious. Suffolk was driven from each of his bastiles, or wooden towers, successively. A fort held by Sir
William Gladesdale made the most stubborn resistance. In
vain, for a day's space, did the flower of the French continually renew the assault; Joan herself led them, when she was
transfixed by an arrow; she fell, and a woman's weakness
for an instant showed itself:-she wept; but this paroxysm
of sensibility was akin to that of devotion. Her vislcrs
came, her protector saint Michael appeared; and, if we are
to believe the testimony of the French knights, she got up
and fought till the gallant Gladesdale was slain and his fort
taken. The English immediately raised the siege. Joan,
having accomplished so considerable a portion of her promises,,would not allow the enemy to be pursued.
The gratitude of Charles was proportionate to the benefits
he had received. H-e no longer doubted the divine mission
of his preserver. A fresh victory gained- over the English
at Patay, in which Fastolffe showed a want of courage, and
the gallant Talbot was made prisoner, greatly increased the
confidence of Charles. Joan proposed to conduct him to be




10                 HISTORY OF FRANCE.                   1437.
cro,wped at Rheims. It was distant; many strong towns, that' Troyes for example, intervened, all garrisoned by hostile
moops. Still Joan prevailed and kept her word. Troyes surrendered, and Rheims also, where the coronation of Charles
VII. fulfilled the mission of the maid of Orleans. Paris itself
was next attacked; but this was too hardy an enterprise.
Joan was wounded in an assault upon the gate and boulevard
St. Honore, and the French were obliged to retreat. The
exploits of Joan were drawing to a term; she was herself
aware, and hinted, that much longer time was not allowed
her.  She was taken by the English as she headed a sortie
from  Compiegne.  Her capture was considered tantamount
to a victory: it was one, however, replete with dishonor to
the English.  They bound and used every cruelty towards
the hapless maid of Orleans; raised accusations of sorcery
against her, whose only crime was man's first duty, to make
a religion of patriotism. With all the meanness and cruelty
of inquisitors, they laid snares for her weakness, and employed every effort to shake her confidence in her own purity and
virtue. She yielded a moment under their menaces and false
promises, through exhaustion and hunger, but she always
rallied back to courage, averred her holy mission, and defied
her foes.  She was burnt in the old market-place of Rouen,
"a blessed martyr," in her country's cause.*
In Joan of Arc the English certainly destroyed the cause
of their late reverses. But the impulse had been given, and
the crime of base vengeance could not stay it.  Fortune declared everywhere and in every way against them. In vain
was Henry VI. brought to Paris, crowned at N6tre Dame,
and made to exercise all the functions of royalty in court
and parliament. The duke of Burgundy, disgusted with the
English, became at last reconciled to Charles, who spared no
sacrifice to win the support of so powerful a subject.  The
amplest possible amends were made for the murder of the
late duke.  The towns beyond the Somme were ceded to
Burgundy, and the reigning duke was exempted from  all
homage towards the king of France.  Such was the famous
treaty of Arras, which restored to Charles his throne, and
deprived the English of all hopes of retaining their conquests
* Among the memorials of the defeat of the English preserved in France,
was a statue erected to Joan d'Arc in Orleans, and a rich banner taken
from the earl of Warwick at the siege of Montargis, which the inhabitants
of the latter town were accustomed to bear in procession every year. At
the commencement of the Revolution, lowever, as Anquetil informs us,
it was considered unworthy to celebrate triumphs over England, the " clas
sic land of libertj;" Warwick's flag was burned at Montargis. and the men
of Orleans threw down the statue of the Pucelle. In six months after (adds
he) the two nations were at war.




1437.        CHARLES VII. RE-ENTERS PARIS.             1 1
in the kingdom. The crimes and misrule of the Orleans
faction were forgotten; popularity ebbed in favor of Charles;
the prudence and success with which he had retrieved his
fallen fortunes augured well for the firmness and wisdom of
his reign.  One of the gates of Paris was betrayed by the
citizens to the constable and Dunois. Willoughby, the governor, was obliged to shut himself up in the Bastile with his
garrison, from whence they retired to Rouen. Charles VII.
entered his capital, after twenty years' exclusion from it, in
November, 1437. Thenceforward the war lost its serious
character. Charles was gradually established on his throne,
and the struggle between the two nations was feebly carried
on, broken merely by. a few sieges and enterprises, mostly to
the disadvantage of the English.
This return to order, this removal of civil discord, and a
foreign enemy, restored to action the natural springs of the
political machine. The king, resuming his power, gradually
exerted it in ordonnances; the nobility, or rather the princes
of the blood, began to unite and present remonstrances to the
monarch. With the view of forming an aristocratic party,
the duke of Burgundy procured the release of the duke of
Orleans from captivity, and a reconciliation took place between
them, which gave such umbrage to Charles, that he forbade
the latter to repair to court. A conspiracy was soon after
formed between the princes and La Tremouille against the
constable: Louis the dauphin, afterwards Louis XI., joined
in it. The activity of Charles, however, anticipated the treason. The dauphin was obliged to make submission. His
friend, the bastard of Bourbon, was tried, condemned, sewn
up in a sack, and drowned. The other planners of this disturbance, called the Praguerie, were pardoned.
The church, too, was roused frorm her long slumbers, but
appeared inclined rather to limit than renew her usurpations.
A council was then assembled at Bale, which was anxious to
correct the most flagrant abuse of the popedom by limiting
its power. Notwithstanding the opposition of the reigning
pontiff, they decreed divers propositions, which they forwarded to king Charles for his adoption. The king held an assembly of nobles, peers, prelates, and magistrates, and by them
the decrees of the council were accepted. They ordained,
that a general council was superior in authority to a pope;
they deprived the Roman pontiff of the right of appointing
to benefices, ruling that vacancies should be filled up by the
ancient mode of election. Annates, or first year's revenues,
were forbidden to be paid to the pope: appeals to him were
limited, almost prohibited; and papal bulls were declared of
no authority in the kingdom without the monarch's consent




112              HISTOkhf OF FRANCE                1444.
Tnese, drawn up under the title of Pragmatic Sanction.
similar in name and spirit to the Pragmatic Sanction of St.
Louis, secured for many years the liberties and independence
of the Gallican church.
There had been frequent endeavors and conferences towards a peace between the French and English. The demands
on either side proved irreconcilable. A truce was however
concluded, in 1444, which lasted four years; it was sealed by
the marriage of Henry VI. with Margaret of Anjou, daughter
of R(ene, and granddaughter of Louis, who had perished while
leading an army to the conquest of Naples. Such were the
early graces and talents of the young princess, afterwards so
unfortunate, that, instead of receiving a dowry with her
Henry gave the county of Maine to her uncle. The truce
embarrassed Charles by the number of troops, whom it was
difficult to pay and dangerous to disband. Austria was loudly
calling for aid against the Swiss. The opportunity was seized
of getting rid of the most turbulent of the bands. The dauphin Louis led them to Bale on his march to the mountains
of Switzerland, and Burchard Monch, a renegade Swiss,
and an envoy of Austria, was to guide the way. The free
mountaineers, nothing alarmed by their new enemies, and
ill appreciating their force, dispatched 1600 men against the
20,000 of the dauphin. The little band in advancing were
warned by the people of Bale of their rashness. " Our souls,
then, to God, and our bodies to the Armagnacs," replied the
gallant Swiss; "for we must on." They attacked the immense army of the dauphin, and routed the two advanced
divisions of it; but, deserted by the militia of Bale, and surrounded by numbers, all were slain. The battle of St. Jacques,
as this was called, gave to the French the first experience
of Swiss valor. The dauphin thought proper to prosecute
the war no farther. Monch, the Swiss who had guided the
French, rode over the field of St. Jacques after the action,
and enjoyed the sight of his slaughtered foes and compatriots.
"We shall sleep to night on roses!" exclaimed he, exultingly.
The exclamation roused to life the indignant spirit of a
captain of Uri, who lay mortally wounded: he collected his
remain'ng strength, lifted a huge stone, and throwing it at
Monch dashed to pieces the eyes and face of the traitor, who
soon after expired.
The French king was wearied with the expense attending
the troops he had hitherto employed, and with their want of
discipline. All were gentlemen, forsooth; the very archers
rode on horseback, and were followed by valets. The militia
of the towns formed the only infantry; and they, from their
nature, could absent themselves from their callings but for <e




1449.       FRANCE RECONQUERS NORMANDY                113
chort campaign.  Charles resolved to imitate the English,
by training the country population to arms.  He, first of the
French kings, dispensed altogether with the feudal mode of
raising forces, and established a regular and a standing army.
He formed what were called companies of ordonnance, of
which there were fifteen, each commanded by a captain, and
consisting under him of 100 lancers and men-at-arms; each
mIan-at-arms followed by three archers, a valet, and a coulillier, or short sword man, similar to those formerly called
brigands, who used to penetrate amongst cavalry in confusion,
slaying men and horses with their knives. In addition to
this, the king soon after ordered that each village of the kingdom should furnish its most expert archer, who was to be paid
in time of war, and in peace was to be exempt from taille or
tax. These were the franc archers, an important institution,
which armed the peasants and called them forth, not at their
lord's bidding, but at the king's.
These reforms were a principal cause of the disaffection
among the nobility, of which the dauphin took advantage to
disquiet his father. Charles, however, now that he was triumphant over the external enemies of the state, no longer
stooped to compromise differences with internal foes. He
caused the duke d'Alenqon, a prince of the blood, to be arrested, for having formed a secret alliance with England: the
duke was tried and condemned. Charles kept him ever after
in confinement. Prince Louis retired to his government of
Dauphiny, and continued his intrigues and reclamations.
The king manifested equal spirit and forbearance. He was
ready to pardon his son, but never to submit or concede to
him.
In 1449 the truce was allowed to expire. The quarrels of
York and Lancaster had commenced, and England was unable to defend her foreign possessions. Normandy was invaded. The gallant Talbot could not preserve Rouen with a
disaffected population, and Charles recovered without loss of
blood the second capital of his dominions. The only blow
struck by the English for the preservation of Normandy was
at Fourmigny near Bayeux.  They had been successful in
driving back the count of Clermont, when the constable appeared with a fresh army, attacked the English in turn, and
routed them. In the result of this action, Charles saw clearly
the advantages of his reform in the army. Native French
archers here faced their ancient rivals. Normandy was for
ever lost to the English after this action or skirmish. The
following year Guyenne was invaded by the count de Dunois.
He met with no resistance. The great towns at that day had
grown wealthy, and their maxim was to avoid a siege at all




114               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1453
hazards.  Thus Bordeaux, after having summoned the English by their public crier to come to their assistance,-a voice
as likely to be heard by the battling Yorkists and Lancastrians
as if it had been trumpeted in their isle,-surrendered to
Charles. The submission of the Bordelais was, however, but
short. They rebelled; the veteran Talbot came to their aid,
at the head of 5000 English.  The French were engaged in
the siege of Castillon, when Talbot marched against them.
His first approach drove in the franc archers. This success
embolde led him to attack the intrenched camp of the French.
Though now eighty years of age, Talbot on foot led his menat-arms to the assault. The fight was bravely sustained on
both sides, till the English general was struck down by the
fire of a culverin.  His son, lord Lisle, flung himself on the
body of his parent. " Fly, my son," said the expiring Talbot;
"the day is lost. It is your first action, and you may without
shame turn your back to the. enemy." Lord Lisle, nevertheless, together with thirty nobles of England, was slain before
the body of Talbot.  With that hero expired the last hopes
of his country in regard to France.  Guyenne was lost, as
well as Normandy; and Calais remained to England the only
fruit of so much blood spilt, and so many victories achieved.
Charles VII. reigned nearly ten years after he had thus
completed the conquest of his kingdom.  During that time
the perverseness of the dauphin chiefly occupied and plagued
him.  When the king advanced into Dauphiny against his
son, the prince fled to the court of the duke of Burgundy,
who received him with hospitality and kindness.  The duke
himself had a similar cause of uneasiness in the frowardness
of his son, the count of Charolois, afterwards Charles the
Rash.  However, the young count's turbulence was but the
effervescence of passion and hot temper; that of the dauphin
was cold-blooded, unrelenting, and full of guile.  The two
young princes formed an intimacy that afterwards broke out
into rivalry and hate.
King Charles had seen so much of the license and spirit
of insubordination of great towns, that he always avoided to
sojourn there. The burgesses of Paris, especially, rigid in
their ideas of domestic virtue, looked with evil eyes upon the
monarch's gallantries, and even insulted the beautiful Agnes
Sorel, who has redeemed in the eye of history her degradation as Charles's mistress, by her patriotism, and by the zeal
she displayed in rousing the monarch from  pleasure to the
active duty of recovering his kingdom. Agnes, called demoi.
selle dli roi, was the first of the subsequently long and disgraceful list of king's mistresses.  For the above reasons
Charles resided at remote chtiteaux, far from the caoital,



1461.        CHARACTER OF CHARLES VII.               115
an example followed by his successor. This rustication of
king and court was attended with important consequences,
and was not the least of the'causes that contributed to render absolute the royal authority.  Charles suffered from an
abscess in the mouth at one of these retreats, Meung-surYevre: word was secretly brought to him that an attempt
was to be made to carry him off by poison. Possessed by this
idea, he refused all sustenance for several days; and when
the physicians used force, the action of the stomach could
not be restored. He expired on the 22d of July, 1461.
Charles VII. is represented in history as a weak character,
for whom fortune and friends did every thing.  Yet, had the
record of his youth been lost, we should esteem him the most
politic, the most firm, the most valiant of princes. His chief
weakness was, that he seemed willing to reconcile himself to
adversity, and even to amuse himself under its pressure. He
was not of a nature stubborn enough to struggle against a
driving tide; but when it became somewhat favorable to him,
he was alert and sagacious to take it at the turn, and it triumphantly bore him on to fortune. In no reign was such
progress made by the kingdom in the acquisition of force,
solidity, and order, though not of freedom. One enactment
principally produced this effect: it was that which reorganized the army. Not only was a standing force created by this
means, but a standing revenue also. The financial part of
the regulation, though apparently subordinate, was by far the
most important.  The companies of ordonnance, or cavalry,
were paid by a taille levied on towns. And this tax, from its
evident utility, being universally submitted to, placed in the
hands of the government a revenue, which was afterwards
raised, increased, and applied at pleasure. Charles VII., according to Comines, never levied more than 1,800,000 livres
in the year. His successor increased it to 4,700,000. This
tax, imposed by the royal will, was the cause of the extinction of freedom in France. No votes of money being required, the states-general became useless: they were never
summoned; a shade of their dignity was transferred to the
parliament, which affected to represent them; and all their
legislative functions were usurped and exercised by the monarch. No writer of the present age could express himself
with more indignation on this subject, or with a fuller sense
of its injustice and evil consequences, than Philip de Comines,
the historian of that day.  The French nobles, says he, consented to this taiille, for the sake of pensions granted to them
out of the sums levied in their respective domains.  Henceforward the French gentleman held and supported the maxim
that the king alone had the right of levying taxes witlnu
8




116               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1461
the consent of the subject; a principle the reverse of tha
which was maintained in England by all the classes of the
community.  Here, then, did the two countries diverge intc
different paths; the one towards despotism, the other to constitutional freedom.
CHAP. V.
1461-1515.
FROM THE ACCESSION OF LOUIS XI. TO THAT OF FRANCIS 1.
THE rivalry between the French and the English formed
the chief action of the period which we have just traversed.
During that time the political regards of France were directed northwards. She had few relations with the kingdom
separated from her by tle Pyrenees. Italy was almost equally
neglected; despite the claims of the house of Anjou upon
Naples and Sicily, which were enforced neither by alliances
nor by arms. The king, separated by Burgundy from the
dominions of the emperor, seldom, if ever, extended his views
beyond the Rhine. The monarchy was struggling on its own
soil for its existence. Now, however, we enter upon another
period, when, delivered from the hostile weight of England,
increased and united in territory, its powers and resources
placed at the disposal of an absolute sovereign, France began
to seek conquests and enemies beyond her own limits. She
turned her views south towards Italy, whither the French
monarchs were carried by their private claims and passions,
rather than by the interests or wishes of their people. It was
during these wars that the great states of Europe found themselves, for the first time, interested in the same struggle, and
in the immediate relations of either alliance or enmity with
each other. During this ensuing period, therefore, was formed
that European confederacy which still exists, and of which
the republics of ancient Greece offer, on a diminutive scale,
the only prototype.
Louis XI. was at the court of Burgundy when he heard of
his father's death.  The duke, who had always afforded him
hospitality and protection, now showed the submission of a
subject; he did homage to the new king for his possessions,
and proposed to accompany him to Rheims with his court and
army.  The suspicions of Louis made him dispense with the
attendance of the latter.  The duke and the Burgundian
court alone were present at the coronation.
The new king was of an ungainly and ill-favored person
with large head, small limbs, and an unprepossessing deport




1462.                  LOUIS XI.                    1 1
ment. Consciousness of those defects made him  contemn
personal qualities in general, as well as those who prized
them: thus he despised courts and courtiers, knights and
tournaments; he shunned men of noble and princely rankchoosing in lieu of them, for his ministers and officers, people
of low birth, who displayed talent, and who could be attached
and submissive. His first acts showed more self-will than
prudence: he felt great indignation against the counsellors
of his father; they were all obliged to fly, and Louis carried
his resentment so far as to annul the political acts of the late
reign. Thus he repealed the pragmatic sanction, and sought
to restore to the pope the right of nominating prelates; but
his parliament resisted, and Louis soon after abandoning all
his selfish resentments, the law against clerical usurpations
remained in force. The same contrariety to his father's opinions and measures contributed to bind the king in gratitude
to the duke of Burgundy, and in friendship to the duke's son
the count of Charolois: but this soon gave way to the jealous
and encroaching temper of Louis. He sought to levy the
gabelle tax in Burgundy. The duke sent his ambassador,
De Chimay, to protest.  "Who is this duke of Burgundy?"
exclaimed the king; "is he of a different metal from the
other nobles of my kingdom " "Yes, sire," replied De Chimay, "he is of a very different metal; for he alone amongst
them received and supported you, when you excited and fled
from the anger of king Charles, your father."  "How dared
you use such language to the king?" exclaimed Dunois to
Chirnay. " Dared!" said the Burgundian; "I tell you, were
I fifty leagues offt and thought the king had an idea of using
to me the words he has used, I would have returned to answer him."
Duke Philip was now in years, and age had robbed him of
his wonted firmness and sagacity. Louis found that in personal interviews he could soothe, persuade, and wheedle the
old duke; the king, therefore, paid frequent visits to the
court of Burgundy, during which he effected many of his
schemes. One of them was the recovery of the towns on the
Somme, Amiens, Abbeville, and St. Quentin, which had been
mortgaged to the duke for a large sum. Louis paid it, and
recovered possession. The son and heir of Burgundy, the
count of Charolois, was highly enraged at these intrigues of the
king and the weakness of his father, and great enmity sprang
up between the prince and the king of France.
Almost all the great nobles were discontented with Louis.
A despot from natural character as well as from policy, selfwilled, jealous alike of rivalry or con'ol, his continued efforts
had been directed to humble them.  He had stripped them




118               ILSTORY DF FRANCE.                1465
3f r.ll their influential offices, their commands, their pensions.
The duke of Bourbon was deprived of the government of
Guyenne; the count Dunois found himself a cipher at court,
without place or power; other nobles were in prison. Louis
intrigued against the duke of Britany, against the prince of
Burgundy, and he even dispatched an emissary to seize and
carry off the latter. The nobility, universally malcontent,
united against the king, who was alarmed when he saw the
storm about to burst. Louis hurried off on a pilgrimage to
some shrine, always his first resource when in difficulties;
sought to intimidate the duke of Britany; and at length
marched to crush the weakest of the leagued princes, the
duke of Bourbon.  In the mean time the king's brother, the
duke of Berri, made his escape, and joined the army of the
league. Proclamations were scattered, addressed to the people, complaining of the tyranny and faults of the government, and declaring that the nobles had taken up arms,
"solely for the public good."  Hence this war was called
"the war of the public good."  The king on his side issued
counter-manifestoes; and this appeal, the first instance of the
kind, made by both sides to the people, shows the growth of
the commons in respectability and importance, although they
were shut out from political power.
Whilst the king was in the Bourbonnais, the count of
Charolois led his'army before Paris, and passed it, in order to
intercept Louis, who was returning to the defence of his
capital. The two armies met at Montlheri; a skirmish commenced; and aid coming to both parties, the action became
general.  The king defeated the wing of the Burgundians
opposed to him; and Charles, equally successful on his side,
was engaged in hot pursuit when he was recalled by the
news of his partial defeat. The long peace had destroyed
warlike habits and skill; and the generals knew as little how
to command as the soldiers how to fight.  The king succeeded in his purpose of entering Paris, and a treaty was
concluded, in which he yielded to Burgundy the towns on the
Somme for which he had paid so dearly.  The government
of Normandy was given by Louis to his younger brother the
duke of Berri; and towns, domains, in short all that they demanded, to the other princes. The count of St. Pol, genera]
a.nd friend of the count of Charolois, was created constable
by Louis, not without some hopes of exciting jealousy between him and Burgundy by so rich a boon. Thus, as Comines remarks, was the war of the public good turned and
terminated to private advantage.
The king, however, had yielded solely to the pressure of circumstances. He ceded every thing; aware that, as soon as the




1468.            LOUIS XI. AT PERONNE.               119
league was dissolved, he should find means of recovering all
that had been wrested from him.  Thus, in the following
year, having won over the duke of Bourbon, Louis took Normandy from his brother, and deprived the duke of Britany
uf all his advantages. Duke Philip of Burgundy had died in
the mean time; the count of Charolois, known in history as
Charles the Bold, or the Rash, was his successor. The new
duke was wroth against the king, on account of the non-execution of the treaty, and menaced war. Louis, who had a
high opinion of his own address, and who remembered that
he had always soothed and won the good-will of duke Philip
in personal interviews, resolved to try the same means with
duke Charles.  The constable St. Pol, who negotiated between them, and was anxious for an accommodation, represented the duke's temper and demands as less extreme than
they were. The king requested a safe-conduct, and galloped,
with few followers, to Peronne, where the duke of Burgundy
then held his court. He was received with all outward deference, yet had reason to suspect that the enmity of the
duke was much deeper than had been represented to him.
His enemies were numerous, and in favor at the duke's court;
and some troops, under the command of the marshal of Burgundy, his declared foe, were encamped near Peronne. The
king, beginning to be alarmed, demanded to have his headquarters removed to the castle. In the interview of the next
day, Louis found that he had overrated the duke's flexibility,
as well as his own address; it was impossible to bend him,
or win a single concession.  Meanwhile tidings arrived that
the people of Liege, stirred up by the emissaries of the king,
had rebelled; had seized their bishop and the duke's lieutenant, and had committed many atrocities; report added that
the bishop had been slain: the truth, however, was that an
archdeacon, who was the prelate's standard-bearer, was the
principal person murdered. Charles flew into a rage at this
news; he declared that the king had come thither to lull him
into false security, whilst his intrigues excited rebellion in
his dominions. The gates of both the town and the castle were
instantly ordered by him to be closed.  Shrinking, however,
from the act of imprisoning his sovereign, the duke pretended
that these measures were taken merely for discovering a casket of jewels that had been lost. Charles had now the fate
of the kingdom in his power: the monarch was his prisoner;
and such was the bad faith of Louis, as well as the general
hatred borne to him, that to deprive him of his crown would
have been an act neither unpopular nor wholly unjustifiable.
The duke of Berri, the brother, whom Louis had just de.
urived of Normnfndv, rmiht nsrend the throne: a messeno'er,




120              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1468
prepared and booted, was in readiness to bear a message to
this prince; but duke Charles hesitated: he wanted courage
or decision for so serious a step. Anger inflamed and inclined
him to listen to vengeance. His sage and prudent counsellor,
Comines (the historian of the period), soothed his ire, and recommended an accommodation. Charles could not sleep with
irresolution; he would not retire to rest, but continued for
the whole of the third night pacing up and down his chamber. At length he became calm, and consented to release the
king, provided Louis would accompany him  against the
Liegeois, whom he had stirred up. The king, who passed
days and nights of melancholy and anxious suspense, confined
in a tower in which a count of Vermandois had murdered
Charles the Simple, was glad to obtain release on any condition, however galling; and he accordingly marched in company with Charles against the mutinous burgesses of Liege.
These unfortunate men offered to submit, but Charles would
not listen to them. They were worsted in an attempt to surprise the duke and the king; their city was taken by storm,
and suffered all the pillage and massacre practised on such
occasions. After having thus been an involuntary witness
of the destruction of his allies, Louis was allowed to depart.
It had been agreed at Peronne, that the duke of Berri
should have the government, of Champagne, in lieu of Normandy, of which he had been deprived. Champagne being
on the borders of Burgundy, the prince would have had alvays a ready support in the duke against the king. This
reason made the monarch as unwilling to grant Champagne
as Charles was inexorable in demanding it. Louis offered to
his brother the province of Guyenne in lieu of Champagne;
and by gaining the prince's favorite he succeeded in making
him agree to the exchange. It was upon this occasion that
the king discovered the treachery of one of his ministers, La
Balue, the son of a tailor, whom he had raised to the dignity
of cardinal. His ecclesiastical character saved his life; but
Louis confined him in an iron cage, in the castle of Loches,
for the rest of his days.
The blunder which the French king committed in trusting
himself to the duke of Burgundy, was the thought uppermost
in his mind: to have been outwitted was more galling than a
substantial loss to him, who prided himself in his sagacity,
and whose power was founded much upon his character for
wisdom. He never would allude to the treaty of Peronne,
nor would he bring himself to utter the name, ordering his
serjeants to wring off the necks of some poor jays, that had
been taught to cry "Peronne" in derision. Pretexts for war
against Burgundy could not he wanting. In the qua'.rl t1 hen




1472.          DUKE OF BERRI POISONED               121
raging between the factions of York and Lancaster, Louis
and Charles espoused different sides, which led to mutual recrimination. The king feared, however, to combat singlehanded against so potent an adversary. An intrigue which
alienated, or appeared to alienate, from the duke many of his
allies, emboldened the king to declare war. Duke Charles
had an only child, Mary, his daughter and heir: she was
eagerly sought by the king's brother, late duke of Berri and
Normandy, now duke of Guyenne. Burgundy, who was
chagrined by the prospect that his rich inheritance might pass
into the hands of another race, would by no means promote
this marriage, though he did not object to the suitor. The
duke of Guyenne urged the king to war, hoping that Burgundy's distress would compel him to grant his daughter's
hand in order to obtain friends and aid. The constable St.
Pol excited the king against duke Charles for the same reason, also for the sake of the emolument and importance of
which peace deprived him. War was declared. The count
de St. Pol won St. Quentin for the king by treachery; and
Amiens was lost to the duke by the same means. A truce
followed, in which Charles and Louis communicated with
each other, and found they were both tricked by the constable. A complicated intrigue ensued; the duke of Burgundy
consenting to give his daughter to the duke of Guyenne, provided that he, with the duke of Britany, the constable, and
Edward of England, would unite against the king. Louis
was here well-nigh overreached for the second time. To appease Charles, who advanced with a powerful army, he agreed
to give up Amiens and St. Quentin, as also the constable, to
the duke of Burgundy; the latter abandoning his allies, the
dukes of Britany and Guyenne. Both determined not to execute the part of the treaty which was disadvantageous to
them. Charles wrote to the dukes of Britany and Guyenne,
declaring that he would not abandon them. Louis either extricated himself, or was extricated, from all difficulties respecting his brother, by the death of that prince, which took
place suddenly and opportunely. A poisoned peach, which
was presented to him, and of which he himself and his mistress
partook, occasioned the death of both. Louis, who always
compensated a crime by a signal act of piety, invented on
this occasion the angelus, or mid-day prayer to the Virgin.
After such a passage of history as the foregoing, one may be
permitted to doubt that Italy was the original birth-place of
political treachery and intrigue.  Machiavel, by whose writings France is supposed to have become infected with duplicity and the habitual dereliction of all public morals, was
only born about this period  arid truly TLomis XT., the eonsta



122               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1473
tle St. Pol, and even the headlong Charles of Burgund,
himself, seem personages most qualified to afford a lesson ti
the Florentine secretary himself:
The death of the duke of Guyenne broke off the treaty.
Charles was enraged, and entered Picardy, ravaging and
massacring the population by way of revenge.  His cruelty
here acquired him the name of Charles the Terrible. He
was repulsed, however, in an attack on Beauvais. A woman
named Jeanne Hachette was the first to give the alarm, and
to repel the Burgundians. An annual procession, in which
females take precedence, still subsists in memory of her valor.
A truce concluded the campaign.
It was manifest, that either fiom want of military hardihood
and skill, or from the lukewarmness of soldiers and commanders, a decisive blow could not be struck between France
and Burgundy. Both parties grew weary of bringing armies
into the field to no purpose; and although nominal war and
real enmity subsisted, the rival princes had leisure to turn
their views in another direction. Louis was at variance with
the king of Aragon respecting the province of Roussillon,
which he held by a species of mortgage, and which the Aragonese had attacked.  A compromise was effected, the province being divided between the competitors. But the object
to which the French king chiefly applied himself was the
humbling and punishing of his refractory nobles.  The duke
of Alencon was thrown into prison, and his duchy confiscated:
the count of Armagnac, grandson of the famous constable,
was next aimed at; but shut up in Lectour, he defied the
power and vengeance of the king. The royal troops besieged
the place, and its reduction was found impracticable: terms
were therefore offered to the count. During the negotiation
the besieged relaxed in their vigilance, and the king's general
treacherously attacking, Lectour was carried, and the inhabitants were massacred.  Two officers suddenly entered
the apartment where the count and his countess were sitting.
The former saluted them.  They replied by striking the
count, and putting an end to his life. His unfortunate wife,
saved for the moment, was found to be enceinte. To her a
potion was administered to destroy in embryo the heir of
the house of Armagnac; and it also proved fatal to the
countess.
The duke of Burgundy was weary of playing the subordi.
nate part of a feudatory of France. He surpassed the king
himself in wealth and power, and yet was curbed and humbled
in dignity by a suzerain, and especially by Louis, who took
every opportunity to thwart and encroach upon his overgrown
vassal. To conclude a treaty which should define the duties




14'3.           THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY.               123
and at the same time guard the independence of the latter,
was impossible. Charles, seeing no other way to extricate
himself from this awkward and mortifying state, aspired to
sovereignty.  He hoped that by extending his dominions on
the side of Germany he might be able to renounce his subjection to France, and induce the emperor to acknowledge
him as an independent sovereign. The bribe by which he
hoped to influence that potentate was certainly a great one:
It was the hand of his daughter and heiress Mary, who, if
united to Maximilian, the emperor's son would convey to the
house of Austria the extensive territories of Burgundy. By
purchase Charles obtained the duchy of Gueldres, as also the
county of La Ferrette and a part of Alsace, from the duke
of Austria. He meditated to seize upon Lorraine, of which
the last duke of the house of Anjou had died without heirs.
Rene count of Vaudemont pretended to the succession of that
duchy in right of his mother, daughter of Ren d'Anjou. The
people of the province preferred him to the duke of Burgundy, and opposed the latter, who failed in getting possession
of the town of Metz. Still Charles pursued his ambitious
schemes. An interview took place between him and the
emperor Frederic, in which the duke was to have been declared king of Belgic Gaul, and lieutenant-general of the
empire: Charles, however, here defeated his own views by
his ostentation and finesse. The emperor and his ministers
were disgusted with both. Charles wished to have his title
acknowledged ere he allowed his daughter to be betrothed;
and, whilst he held out stubbornly on this point, the emperor
departed abruptly without leave-taking. Thus did Charles
overreach himself. All the rich regalia that he had prepared
to honor his new dignity became useless.
The duke of Burgundy resolved not to be wanting in the
pride and arrogance of a monarch, though the title was denied him. His new empire was to include the whole course
of the Rhine from its source. Sigismund duke of Austria
abandoned to him willingly those claims of sovereignty over
Switzerland which he himself could not make good. Hagenbach, Charles's governor in his new province, used every species of extortion and violence towards the Swiss; and the
duke, when appeal was made to him, offered insult in lieu of
redress. "We must skin the bear of Berne," said he, "and
clothe ourselves in his fur." While causes of irritation between the duke and the Swiss formed a prelude to war, and
while the enmity of the latter towards Louis still continued
so inveterate that an alliance was formed between him and
Edward of England for conveying the crown of France to the
latter, Charles and Louis came to a momentary understanding




i24              HIISTORY OF FRANCE.                1475
for the sake of avenging themselves on the constable St. Pol,
who had betrayed each in turn, and was equally odious to
both. The constable, who had possessed himself of St. Quentin, made overtures to both parties, and offered the town to
make peace with either. He had an interview with the king
on the bridge of Noyon, with a wooden barrier raised between
them, which was adduced as a criminal piece of arrogance
on the part of St. Pol. He afterwards fled to the protection
of Burgundy; but the duke delivered him to the king, who
caused him to be tried before his parliament, and afterwards
beheaded in the Place de Greve.
Edward IV. was induced to invade France by the duke of
Burgundy, who, instead of joining with the English, kept his
troops employed in the conquest of Lorraine. Edward, who
loved pleasure even more than glory, was bought off by Louis,
who observed on the occasion, that no sum  could be ill
expended in bribing the English to keep within their isle.*
" As to money, that can be regained," said Louis; "but never
will I yield up towns or lands to such enemies." He at the
same time treated with the Swiss, paid them subsidies and
even succeeded so far in exciting enemies to Burgundy, that
he reconciled those free mountaineers with the house of Austria, and united both in league against the duke. The inhabitants of La Ferrette were excited to rebel against Charles's
lieutenant, Hagenbach, whom they took and beheaded. The
Swiss aided the insurgents, declared war against the duke,
and defeated his troops at Hericourt.
Charles of Burgundy had never yet encountered an enemy
superior to him. The gallant knights of France and the
stubborn burgesses of Flanders had alike been quelled by
him in the field. His rage was proportionate to his surprise
on finding himself braved by the Swiss mountaineers. He
marched against them from Lorraine, the conquest of which
he had completed, at the head of 40,000 men.  Charles's
natural pride of character was inflated by the study of the
Roman classics, the taste for which was just then reviving
and superseding that for feudal romance. The reader must
be aware that the fall of the Greek empire and the invention
of printing were events anterior to this period by some years,
and had contributed to render even more known and popular
the names and achievements of Rome. Hannibal was the
hero whose prowess then caught the fancy of Charles; and
to surmount the Alps, like the Carthaginian general, was
* Six hundred pipes of excellent wine formed part of the bribe which
tempted Edward upon this occasion: this caused many railleries against
the English.




1476     TIlE SWISS DEFEAT THE BL RGUNDIANS.        125
now his glorious aim. The patriotism and valor that armed
the Swiss in their own defence was equally enthusiastic,
though unlearned and indigenous. Still they sent envoys to
avert the wrath of Burgundy, and to offer amends and submission in return for justice. " You have little to gain with
us," said the Swiss ambassador to the duke; "the golden
bits of your bridles, the spurs of your knights, are more in
value than all our land contains." The duke would neither
listen to counsel nor hear of submission. He marched into
Switzerland through the valley of the Arve, in the month of
February, 1476. He besieged Granson, the first place that
made resistance. The garrison, though brave, were tricked
by a renegade Swiss called Ramschwag, then in the duke's
service, to surrender. They were in number about 500.
Charles instantly ordered them to be put to death; some
were hanged, some drowned.  This cruelty exasperated the
Swiss. Each canton furnished its contingent, and an army
of 20,000 men marched against the Burgundians. The duke
had a strongly intrenched camp at Granson, but scorning such
advantage against the Swiss peasants, he advanced to meet
them on the road to Neufchatel: thus offering battle in a
hilly region, where his numerous cavalry could prove of no
advantage. The two armies met on the 2d of March. The
Swiss foot, embodied in large masses, and armed with long
halberds, bore down the Burgundian knights, who in vain
resisted. Charles had a few archers, and no infantry in the
advance; thus committing the usual mistake of the French,
in deeming mounted gentlemen able to repel twice their
number of peasants on foot. The Burgundian flank was soon
turned by other bands of the Swiss mountaineers, amongst
whom the huge and terrific horns of Uri and Unterwalden
were heard to blow. The battle became instantly a rout: the
Burgundians and their duke fled; losing, indeed, few of their
numbers, as the Swiss had no cavalry to pursue, but leaving
to the conquerors the plunder of a camp which rivalled that
of Xerxes in luxury and splendor. Silken tents attached with
cords of golden wire, velvets, tapestry, pearls, and jewels in
profusion, became the property of the amazed victors. Plate
was flung away as pewter. The large diamond which the
duke wore customarily at his neck was found in a box of
pearls; it was at first rejected as a bauble, then taken up
again, and sold for a crown. It was afterwards purchased by
the pope for 20,000 ducats, and still adorns the papal tiara.
Another equally beautiful diamond, won at Granson, was
bought by Henry VII., afterwards given by his daughter Mary
to her husband, Philip IL, and now belongs to Austria.  As
duke Charles fled fiom the Alps and their fierce inhabitants




126               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1476
in the rout of Granson, his fool cried to him, "IHa! my lord,
are we not finely Hannibalized"
The king of France had taken up his residence at Lyons,
in order to watch the motions of the duke and to profit by his
reverses. One of Charles's schemes for aggrandizement was
to induce Rene d'Anjou, who was dissatisfied with Louis, to
make a bequest of Provence and his other possessions in favor
of Burgundy.  Rden  had'shown himself obsequious in this
respect, as did the duchess of Savoy and the duke of Milan;
but on the disaster of Granson, all the allies of Charles forsook him, and Louis secured to himself the rich succession
of the house of Anjou, then about to be extinct: he at the
same time encouraged the Swiss with subsidies and fair
words.
Charles was during this period at Lausanne, recruiting his
shattered army.  He was so dreadfully dejected, that he allowed his beard to grow; and, though constitutionally of that
hot temperament which forbids all vinous indulgence, his
chief refection being conserve of roses, yet he now took copious draughts of wine to drown and dissipate his chagrin.
By degrees, however, he remoulded his army, recovered his
spirits, his courage, and almost his confidence; and in June
of the same year, three months after the defeat of Granson,
Charles marched with a fresh army into the heart of Switzerland. He encamped at Morat, within six leagues of Berne,
and instantly invested the place. The Swiss collected their
forces and marched to its relief. Rene de Vaudemont duke
of Lorraine had now joined his aid to theirs, and brought
them what they most wanted, a formidable body of cavalry.
The force of the Swiss exceeded 30,000: the duke's force
was scarcely so numerous, and was far inferior in confidence
and hardihood; but, like a desperate gamester, he would play
his stake although every chance was against him.
The captains of Burgundy counselled Charles to lead his
force into the plain, where his cavalry might act; but he was
now impatient of dictation.  Near the lake of Morat he stationed his left, chiefly composed of Italian mercenaries; the
centre was commanded by Crevecceur; he himself kept the
right, with a body of English under the duke of Somerset,
and his archers on horseback. The Swiss, as was customary
with them, knelt down in line, uttered a short prayer, and
then rushed against their enemies. On this occasion the redoubtable infantry of the mountains were kept in check by
the Burgundian knights, fighting under cover of their artillery and camp intrenchments.  The action was for a time
doubtful; but the cavaliers of Burgundy having all dismounted to defend their intrenebment' s. the Lorraine horse




1477.       BATTLES OF MORAT AND NANCY.              127
swept the right wing; and a body of Swiss, being thus enabled to turn it, attacked the camp in flank and rear whilst it
was still vigorously assaulted in front. Cannon and intrenchments here became useless; the struggle was hand to hand.
Somerset and his English, together with the best knights of
Burgundy, perished; and victory was completely in the hands
of the Swiss: they were merciless in their triumph; they
took no prisoners, and spared not an enemy. All were massacred; and the vanquishers being now provided with cavalry, the flight was more destructive than the action. Many
sought refuge in the lake; and even thither they were pursued by their merciless enemies. The Swiss were resolved
that the Burgundians should not rally a second time, to attempt a third invasion.  "Cruel as at Morat," was for a long
while a Swiss proverb. When time had decomposed the
bodies of the slain, the bones were collected in a chapel called
the Ossuary of Morat, which for ages remained as a trophy
to Swiss valor and independence. The French revolutionary
army destroyed it in 1798.
Charles escaped this field also, and for a long time concealed his grief and mortification at Salins. Like Napoleon
in his reverses, neither humbled nor schooled, but merely
angered by ill fortune, he called on his subjects for levies, for
armies; not to secure their safety, but to avenge his own disgrace. Everywhere, in Burgundy as in Flanders, he found
discontent and lack of zeal. Rene de Vaudemont seized the
opportunity of recovering his heritage of Lorraine: though
he was unable to raise an army, yet such was the discouragement of the Burgundians that he still met with success; and
Nancy, the capital of the province, surrendered to him. This
roused the duke of Burgundy; he quitted Salins, and with
such force as he could muster, amounting to about 6000 men,
laid siege to Nancy in October of the same fatal year, 1476.
Ren6 de Vaudemont flew to the Swiss, his allies and comrades, for aid  Although interest and gratitude urged them
to support him, still the soldiers of the confederacy would
not stir till large payments and larger promises were made
to them. This barter of their valor for gold is the great blot
on the Swiss character. Charles in the mean time was losing
his temper and his little army before Nancy in vain, during
one of the most rigorous winters ever known. It was not till
January, 1477, that Rene with his allies could come to the
relief of the town. Charles was counselled, in the present
weak state of his army, tr avoid his formidable enemies; but
he scorned to retreat. He was attacked by the Swiss and by
Rene, in a melancholy day of snow and frost. The knights
of Burgundy here for the last time supported their character




128               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1477
for valor; but when the dreadful horns of Uri and Unterwalden sounded, the courage of the duke's infantry succumbed. Campo-Basso, who commanded the veteran auxiliaries, had turned traitor to his master.  Men appointed by
him set the example of flight: treachery is supposed to have
consummated the destruction of the unfortunate duke. Charles
was several days missing; at last his corpse was found, stripped and scarcely recognizable, half immersed in a frozen
pool. Thus in one brief year did the potent house of Burgundy fall from its pride, and perish. It struck against the
rock of Swiss freedom and went to pieces;-a fruitful theme
for reflection to the men of that age, although its writers took
care to draw from it none save a pious moral.
Louis, who had not long before established regular posts
throughout his dominions, was soon informed of the death of
his rival and enemy. He could scarcely conceal his joy; yet
his doubt and irresolution were great.  The most obvious
policy for the king to follow, was to secure the espousal of
Mary, the late duke's daughter and heiress, to his son Charles,
or to one of the princes of his house.
But Charles the dauphin was at that time only eight years
of age; and a marriage, the consummation of which must
necessarily be for a long time retarded, seemed insecure. As
to the marriage of Mary to a French prince, the duke of Orleans for example, Louis dreaded and avoided such a measure.
He had too dear experience of the danger of raising nobles,
especially of the blood royal, to territorial dignities and power.
He, consequently, preferred seizing on the heritage of the
deceased duke by force. Burgundy and Artois, the king pretended, must revert to the crown as male fiefs. Of the former he obtained possession, by gaining to his interests the
prince of Orange, the principal nobleman of the duchy. The
towns on the Somme, as well as Boulogne, Arras, and Tournay, surrendered to him. But his efforts to raise royal partisans in Flanders were unsuccessful.
Mary, heiress of Burgundy, was at Ghent, under the care
of the duchess her stepmother, at the time of her father's
disaster. The turbulent citizens took possession of their infant duchess, re-established their privileges, and seemed resolved to administer the province in her name. Louis had
sent his barber Oliver as envoy to Ghent. Being a Fleming
by birth, Oliver was derided and threatened: he was obliged
to make his escape. Mary, however, wrote clandestinely to
the king, showing herself not indisposed to a marriage with
the dauphin.  The states of Flanders, assembled at Ghent,
sent ambassadors at the same time to treat with the monarch,
who was then engaged in the siege of Arras.  For the sake




482.     W~ AR WITH MAXIMILIAN,                     129
of embroiling the young duchess with the people of Ghent,
Louis not only showed but gave her secret letter to him. The
envoys were enraged at discovering this secret correspondence: the citizens participated in the feeling. There was a
tumult; and two of Mary's counsellors were executed by the
people upon the public scaffold, though she caused herself to
be transported thither in hopes of saving their lives. She
conceived on this account a just hatred both against France
and Louis; and, after various intrigues, Mary espoused the
archduke Maximilian of Austria, son of the emperor.
War ensued between Maximilian and Louis.  Burgundy
revolted under the prince of Orange. The Flemings defended Artois. The English were invited to attack their ancient enemy; but the principal lords and ministers of Edward's court were in the receipt of annual pensions from
Louis, who remained secure on that side. The only memorable exploit of the war was a battle that took place at Guinegate, between the Flemings under Maximilian, and the
French commanded by Philippe de Crevecceur, an old general of the late duke of Burgundy. At the commencement
of the action, the French cavalry routed that of their enem-ies, and drove them from the field. The infantry on either
side.remained on their ground; but the Flemish burgesses
were far superior to the French franc archers, and advancing,
-outed them with ease. The previous success of the cavalry yielded no advantage, and the Flemings gained a derided victory.
It was after this defeat that Louis abolished the institution
of franc archers altogether; he disliked the fashion of arming the French peasantry.  Instead of requiring from  each
village an archer, Louis levied a certain sum, with which he
proposed to pay an army of Swiss.  The French infantry,
still maintained, was armed by him after the Swiss fashion,
with pike, halberd, and two-handed sword. At any rate, a
change was universally taking place, by which the arquebuss
uperseded the bow and arrow.
The defeat of Guinegate humbled the hopes of Louis. The
var was no longer prosecuted with vigor. Even the death
f Mary of Burgundy, which soon after took place, afforded
Aim no opportunity of adding to his usurpations.  A treaty,
-alled the treaty of Arras, was concluded between him and
Maximilian, in December, 1482. Its stipulations were, that the
dauphin Charles should espouse Margaret of Austria, Maximilian's daughter; and that France should acquire, as her
lowry, the county of Artois, and that of Burgundy (o.
"ranche-Comt6), with other territories; those possessions reerting to Austria in case no heirs came of the marriag.




130                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1483
Independently of these cessions, Louis acquiresu he duchy or
province proper of Burgundy, as well as that of Picardy, as
his share of the spoils of Charles.  About the same time, on
the death of the good king Rene, he inherited Provence and
Anjou.  Rene II. of Lorraine made some efforts to establish
a claim, but in vain. Good fortune never crowned political
craft more completely than in the instance of Louis XI. That
monarch had now brought all his favorite schemes to their
completion: his nobles were humbled; his great rival was
destroyed. He still gave his restless spirit occupation in the
chase. Retired in his castle of Plessis-removed altogether
from his family-without a court-isolated even from his ministers, who inhabited the neighboring town of Tours,-he
amused himself in his domain with agriculture: he established
a Flemish dairy, and gave his royal attention even to the
making of butter. Executions, of which he was equally fond,
mingled with these more innocent amusements; and Tristan
the hermit, his provost, was one of his most constantly occupied attendants. An anecdote of the king's summary justice
is told by Brantome.  Once, when in public, he perceived a
certain captain whom he knew to be ill affected to him. The
monarch winked to his provost: Tristan thought that the
object of the king's justice was a fat monk who stood next
to the captain; accordingly, the good monk was forthwith
seized, sewn in a sack, and flung into the river. The captain,
who saw the mistake, had in the mean time fled to Amiens.
The king reproached Tristan, who avowed the error. " Phques Dieu!" exclaimed the monarch; "'twas the best monk
in my dominions.  Let half a dozen masses be said for him
to-morrow."
The hand of the great executioner was at length laid on
Louis, who showed all the alacrity of his most timid victim to
avoid his fate.  He made numbers of pilgrimages, and was
incessant in his vows. It was said that he had recourse even
to earthly aid, and drank blood drawn from the veins of infants, to revive the failing current of his own. He was twice
struck with apoplexy: the last attack proved fatal to him.
Louis died on the 30th of August, 1483, having survived his
contemporary Edward IV. of England but a few weeks.
The union of oddness with sagacity forms a mixture of
human character, which, by a perverse kind of taste, we like
to contemplate.  Such a specimen of this combination as
Louis XI. exhibited was never seen upon a throne. Although
he was as tyrannical, as crafty, and as cruel, as our Henry
VIII., still the French king is almost a favorite with the reader of history, whilst Henry is abhorred.  Louis possessed a
bonhommie, a comic humor, which has thrown his atrocious




1483.                 CHARLES VIII.                  131
cruelties into the s lade. His very absurdities plead against
an unfavorable judgment; and in smiling at the weaknesses,
we almost pardon the iniquity, of his nature. That strange
contrast of profound sagacity in all sublunary concerns, with
the childish folly and pusillanimity in ideas of religion and
celestial influence, which were pretty much the characteristics of the age, was carried, in Louis, to the farthest verge
of all that can provoke ridicule or command admiration. His
crimes, also, were partly those of the age; and, in a political
view, they were scarcely more than proportioned to the great
end that the monarch contemplated.  Such a compound of
weakness and wisdom, policy and superstition, cowardice and
courage, joined with all that is strange in person, manner,
habiliments, thoughts, makes Louis a character ready drawn
to the hand of the imaginative writer. It defies exaggeration,
and rivals in boldness and humor aught that fiction can
create.
The son of Louis XI. was but thirteen years of age when
he ascended the throne, with the title of Charles VIII. Brantome calls him Charles the Little: he was weak, ill formed, and sickly; his mind was not more developed than his
person, the jealous Louis having denied the young prince all
education as well as exercise. The last dispositions of Louis
had intrusted the care of the king to his daughter Anne, wife
of the lord of Beaujeu, a brother of the house of Bourbon.
She found a competitor in the duke of Orleans, who, as first
prince of the blood, pretended, at least, to share the sovereign
authority. The principal nobles espoused the duke's side. It
was agreed to summon the states-general to decide the question. No mention has been made of the great council of the
nation during the last reign. It had been held nevertheless,
but the members had been so packed and culled as to offer
no efficient resistance to the despot who reigned. A fair and
real assembly of the states was now, however, convoked at
Tours. The government used every means of previous conciliation. Oliver the barber, one of the obnoxious ministers
of Louis, was hanged; taxes were reduced; and a body of
6000 Swiss was disbanded. The disorders of the reign of
Charles VI., and their melancholy consequences, had disgusted men with the reign of princes of the blood. The states
conferred the care of the king's person, and the influence accruing from it, upon the lady of Beaujeu. The Orleans party,
being dissatisfied, questioned the competence of the states.
"To whom does it belong to decide," cried Pot, one of the
members, "if not to the same people who first elected their
kings, and in whom the sovereign authority thoroughly and
9




132                IISTORY OF FRANCE                1483
territorially resides " Here breaks out the republican spirit
which the revived study of the classics had already produced.
The three orders presented their several grievances; ana
we have thus an opportunity of marking the state of each.
It has been before remarked, that the French noblesse became
at an early period divided into the greater and the less; the
former possessing territories, appanage, sovereignty, almost
independent power; hereditary qualities, in short, more royal
than aristocratic.  This took from them the true spirit of an
aristocracy; they opposed the king, as potentate might attack
potentate, with force alone. Arms and fortifications were
their bulwarks. The English nobles, on the contrary, from
the compactness of the island and the early despotism of the
Conqueror's race, remained essentially subjects, all with similar interests and views. Hence they were united; hence
they aimed at common privileges, which laws and institutions
alone, not individual might, could guaranty. As the great
nobility disappeared in France, either from natural decay, or
by chance of war, or under the hand of the executioner, the
princes of the blood took their place and authority; and thus
a class of magnates was placed at the head of the noblesse,
having interests quite distinct from theirs. From that time
opposition and rebellion no longer strove to limit the royal
authority.  The struggle of the nobles, on the contrary, was
to share it, to have a seat in the council, and acquire preponderance. In these selfish and personal quarrels, nation and
class both lost sight of their peculiar interest as well as of
the public advantage. But the danger of giving appanages
was soon perceived. Princes and nobles were no longer indulged with provinces: places and pensions were bestowed
in lieu. Charles VII: had begun this system: and he was
enabled to do so, being the first monarch who levied a fixed
and perpetual tax. In this arrangement, the great nobles
were to have a share in the public contribution, while the
smaller, forming the great mass of the nobility, were to be
exempt from paying their quota. Thus were all those of higher
Dirth in the nation attached to despotic royalty by the simple
and stubborn tie of self-interest. The demands of the nobles
in the present assembly of states were merely against being
summoned by the arriere-ban to war at their own expense.
Louis XI., who found that they paid no taille under the modern system of collecting revenue, thought they might at least
afford their ancient contribution of feudal service. But no:
they insisted upon being freed from both, and they were
freed.
The clergy prayed that the pragmatic sanction might be
upheld, and the privileges of the Gallican church defended,




1483.           ASSEMBLY OF THE STATES.               133
especially the right of election, and the non-payment of annates.  The tide of opinion even among ecclesiastics was
against Rome. Striking examples occurred during the reign
of Louis, showing how low the papal authority had fallen.
When Charles of Burgundy aspired to a throne, it was not
to the pope, that anciently received fabricator and hallower
of crowns, that he had recourse, but to the emperor. When
cardinal Bessarion came on a mission from the papal court to
Louis XI., he was admitted, after a delay of two months, to
the royal presence. When he had made a most learned speech
richly garnished with quotations, the king for answer seized
the venerable cardinal by the beard, and repeated an absurd
line from the Latin Grammar of that day. Bessarion, it is
said, died of chagrin at this insult; and we hear of no indignation on the part of the pope.
The tiers etat, or commons, were equally loud against the
pope, and prayed that no legate should be allowed to enter
the kingdom. They made the usual complaint respecting
the taille, and solicited the abolition of so hateful a word.
They hinted, that if the royal domains could not suffice for
the national expenditure, they would be ready at all times
to come forward and vote supplies. Considerable difficulties
nevertheless existed as to the sum now to be granted.  In
short, the states seemed most willing to adopt the economical
resistance of an old English parliament, when the lady of
Beaujeu, growing alarmed, dissolved the assembly.
The discontent of the duke of Orleans was not appeased
by the decision of the states.  He was a handsome, frank,
amiable man, not naturally inclined to be turbulent: but as
first prince of the blood, and heir presumptive to the throne,
it was derogatory to his pride and spirit to remain tranquil,
while deprived of all influence by a woman. Dunois, son of
the famous bastard of Orleans, was his chief friend and counsellor; a man as fond of intrigue, apparently, as his stout sire
had been of battle. The dukes of Lorraine and Bourbon
seemed at first inclined to join him, but both were won over
by the lady Anne; Bourbon, the elder brother of the lord of
Beaujeu, being made constable.  Orleans tried every expedient to shake the authority of the king's sister. He sought
to make himself popular in the capital, and to bring its citizens to declare in his favor. He tried the parliament also;
but its president, La Vaquerie, replied, that it was not their
interest or duty to interfere in a private struggle for power.
Orleans was soon after closely pressed by La Tremouille at
the head of a superior army, and obliged to make submission;
Dunois being banished to Asti, a town in Italy which the




134              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1488.
duke of Orleans inherited from his grandmother, Valentine
of Milan.
Such a forced submission could not conduce to a lasting
peace. Dunois soon afterwards returned from exile. There
was a plot for carrying off the king, which failed, and the
duke of Orleans was obliged to take refuge in Britany. The
gay and fascinating manners of the French prince entirely
won the good-will of Francis, the reigning duke. He was
without male heirs; and his daughter, as inheritor of the
duchy, was a rich prize for an ambitious prince. The duke
of Orleans became a suitor for the hand of Anne, and duke
Francis favored his pretensions. But the native nobles of the
province were jealous of the duke of Orleans and of his influence with their prince. They leagued with the lady of
Beaujeu against both; and a French army, supported by a
great body of Bretons, soon after besieged the dukes of Britany
and Orleans in Nantes. There were two other pretenders to
the hand of the heiress of Britany: the sieur d'Albret, a rich
lord of Gascony, into whose family the crown of Navarre had
passed from that of Foix. The duke of Orleans, in prosecuting his own suit, affected to support this competitor. The
other was Maximilian king of the Romans. A timely succor
sent by this prince obliged the French to raise the siege of
Nantes; and the lady of Beaujeu betraying a disposition to
conquer the duchy, and to garrison and appropriate its towns,
the Bretons became suspicious, abandoned her, and resumed
their allegiance to the duke. The war nevertheless con.
tinued. The troops on both sides met at St. Aubin, and a
battle ensued. The French were commanded by La Tremouille; the prince of Orange and the duke of Orleans led
on the Bretons. With the latter were 300 English; 1200
Bretons also clothed themselves in the English garb, the more
to intimidate their enemies. The Bretons were celebrated
as foot-soldiers. At St. Aubin they supported their character; but the French gendarmerie, having routed the cavalry
opposed to them, took the Bretons in flank and rear, and
routed them. The duke of Orleans and the prince of Orange
were both taken prisoners. They were startled to perceive
a confessor enter their tent in the evening. La Tremouille,
who saw and enioved their consternation, reassured them by
observing that it was only for the inferior rebels to clear their
consciences and prepare for death.
An accommodation followed this defeat. The duke of
Britany made submissions, and survived but a short time. He
rvas the last duke of the province, which now descended to
his daughter Anne. There was another sister, who, as she
died soon after, need not be more than mentioned. Affairs




1491.       MARRIAGE OF ANNE OF BRIlANY.             135
were now as unsettled as ever. The count d'Albret, seconded by a strong party of Bretons, who above all things
aimed at the independence of their duchy, pushed his suit
with the young heiress. The addresses of this aged noble
could not be agreeable to a princess of fourteen. The duke
of Orleans, the object of her predilection, was in prison. The
armies of France were invading the duchy, and it behoved
her to espouse a prince capable of defending her dominions.
The resolution was taken that she should be married to Maximilian king of the Romans, and the ceremony was accordingly performed by proxy; the archduke's ambassador, to
conclude it, putting a naked leg into the couch of the young
duchess.  Hitherto the aim of king Charles and his regent
sister had been to conquer the duchy by force of arms, laying
claim to it as a male fief. Charles had been long betrothed
to Margaret of Austria, Maximilian's daughter, who was then
receiving her education in the French court, and awaiting
the years of nubility. The stubbornness of the Bretons, however, made the lady of Beaujeu despair of her project. The
ever-ready Dunois, in order to make his own peace and procure the liberty of the duke of Orleans, proposed that Charles
should espouse the young duchess himself, and thus unite
Britany to the kingdom. Charles and his sister instantly entered into this scheme. The king, with a kingly generosity,
began by setting the duke of Orleans, his secret rival, at liberty. This the monarch did without consulting his sister;
nor was his generosity abused, for the duke remained ever
after faithful to him, and even seconded his purpose of espousing Anne. Dunois, on his side, labored to render the duchess
less hostile to France. Anne still held with all the faithfulness of a wife to Maximilian, to whom she was nominally
betrothed. An ostensible act of compulsion was deemed requisite to overcome her reluctance. A royal army besieged
her in Rennes.  One of the conditions of the capitulation
was, that she should espouse the king of France. This marriage really as well as ceremoniously took place.* The inactivity of Maximilian lost him a richly endowed consort,
and at the same time brought a severe mortification upon his
daughter Margaret. She, who had been brought up as the
future queen of France, was now sent home, as she herself
expressed it, " a widow ere she was a wife."  This rejection
was not unattended with loss to the French monarch, who
was compelled to restore Artois and Franche-Comte, acquired
as the dowry of Margaret. Thus, within a short period, were
the'two most considerable fiefs of the ancient feudal king* Dec. 1491




136               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1494dom of France, viz. Burgundy and Britany, united finally to
the crown. Flanders, the remaining province, followed other
fortunes; for while France gradually extended her dominions eastward, by encroaching on the empire, the house of
Austria gained possession of the rich province of Flanders,
originally French, which gave her the advantage of sea-ports,
nd one of the richest manufacturing and commercial regions
n the world.
There never was a period of history in which the efforts
of individual minds were so important in their effects as the
present. The inventions of one or two artisans on the banks
of the Rhine presented mankind with the art of printing;an idea, a theory, springing up in the manly mind of Columbus, led to the discovery of another hemisphere; —a whim
conceived by Charles VIII., who, from hearing tales of Caesar and Charlemagne, suddenly became desirous of turning
conqueror, had more effect on the destinies of Europe than
all those occult causes of human progress which the philosopher of history loves to fathom. It has been related, how the
first house of Anjou conquered Naples, and how Jeanne, its
last princess, conveyed her right to Charles of Anjou, brother
of the unfortunate Charles VI. His rioht descended to his
grandson Rene, who bequeathed it to Louis XI. In short, the
claim of the reigning house of France to Naples was such as
only a powerfulinonarch could assert. An illegitimate branch
of the royal house of Anjou was then in possession of Naples. There was enmity between him and Ludovico Sforza,
who then governed Milan. The latter, in the meddling spirit
of Italian intrigue, sent ambassadors to excite Charles of
France against the king of Naples; but the French king,
instead of menacing or intriguing, entered seriously into the
project, summoned his bravest soldiers and captains, and invaded Italy at the head of a large army. No one was more
surprised and alarmed at this promptitude, to which Italy was
so little accustomed, than Ludovico himself, whose authority
in Milan was merely usurped over his nephew, then in prison.
He temporized, however, and received Charles with all signs
of gladness, and with great display.  Most historians of the
time describe the pomp and grandeur of his reception; and
the rich habiliments of the duchess of Milan are not forgotten. The first act of Charles on his introduction to this dame
was to ask her to dance with him.  This gallant example
was followed by the French, who were prodigal of admiration and attention to the fair. Such conduct awakened the
suspicions of the Italians, and added to the natural want of
harmony between nations so opposite in character.
Italy a this time formed a federation which may be re



1494.,          CHARLES INVADES ITALY.               137
garded as the prototype of the system  subsequently established in Europe, where power is equally parcelled forth, and
where the efforts and policy of all are directed to preserve
the general equilibrium. The intervention of a foreign potentate perplexed and terrified all the members of that implied
confederation: but to unite at once against him demanded a
reciprocal confidence, a readiness and resolve, which were
not to be expected. Those who could venture on such an
act of policy, temporized. To await another conjuncture of
circumstances was the favorite and timid maxim of the Italians. The Venetians replied to Charles that they were in
too great dread of the Turk to aid him. The Florentines,
through whose state lay the route between France and Naples, could not follow this example of neutrality: Pietro de'
Medici, the man of chief influence among them, knew not
what path to pursue. He had an understanding' with both
Charles and the king of Naples, and was afraid to oppose or
to desert either of them. Being sent at the head of an embassy by the Florentines to procure the king's friendship
and alliance, he delivered up the frontier fortresses to Charles,
to gain the monarch's good-will for himself, thus setting aside
the interests of the republic. The pusillanimous traitor was
soon after obliged to fly from the public indignation.  Meantime Charles entered Lucca and Pisa. Florence opened her
gates to him, without surrendering her independence. Charles,
however, attempted to take advantage of having an army
within their walls to impose conditions upon the Florentines.
When these were proposed by Charles to the principal magistrates of the town, Capponi, one of them, snatched the injurious scroll from the hands of the secretary, tore and trod it
beneath his feet. " Since such are your conditions," cried he
to Charles, " sound your war-trumpets-we on our side will
ring the bells of alarm,"  Such promptitude and courage in
an Italian functionary made Charles conclude that the Florentines were too strong for him. Capponi was recalled, and
reprimanded for his wrath, but the harsh conditions were no
longer insisted on.
The pope Borgia, Alexander VL, stood next in Charles'
way.  He in vain endeavored to turn the French monarch
from his purpose of entering Rome, but the latter asserted
that he had vowed to visit the tombs of the holy apostles.
The terrified pontiff shut himself up in the castle St. Angelo
whilst Charles entered the city in the night by torch-light;
his men all armed, with lance in rest, betokening that he
came as a conqueror.  In the present day, when a place is
won, the flag' of the victors is hoisted. The first order ot
hCkarles was to erect gallows in divers directions, on which




138              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1495
his provost hung a few turbulent Romans, thus asserting and
exercising the French king's right of jurisdiction. Naples
itself seemed equally disinclined to resistance. Although
Ferdinand, its young prince, showed himself not wanting in
either prudence or valor, his troops betrayed an insurmountable reluctance to face the French. They fled from their
posts at the first indication of attack. Ferdinand escaped to
Ischia; and Charles made his triumphant entry into Naples,
in the month of February, 1495; having thus traversed all
Italy at the head of an army, without any bloodshed except
by the hand of the executioner.
To retain and perpetuate conquests is a more difficult mat
ter than to make them. Charles and his captains took no pains
to establish their government in Naples: on the contrary, the
partiality of the French monarch for his countrymen, his dissipation and restlessness, as well as their gallantry and violence, rendered the Italians averse to their yoke. The king
of Aragon in the mean time leagued with the Venetians and
Ludovico Sforza of Milan, to drive the French from Italy.
Philip de Comines, then Charles's envoy at Venice, warned
him of the danger. It was considered most prudent to return
to France. Gilbert de BourboD, count de Montpensier, cousin
of him whom we have known as lord of Beaujeu, was left
governor of Naples. Garrisons were placed in the chief towns.
And thus providing for the security of his new kingdom,
Charles departed on his return homeward at the head of
scarcely 10,000 combatants. His enemies awaited him near
Parma, commanded by Gonzaga, marquis of Mantua.  They
were more than double the French in number. Charles endeavored to negotiate, but in vain. Gonzaga posted his men
near Fornova, to the right of the road which must be taken
by their enemy, who, commanded by La-Tremouille and their
monarch, did not retard their march. The Italians, divided
into two bodies, attacked the French in front and rear. Those
in front showed little activity; the rear-guard was, however
vigorously assaulted by the marquis of Mantua. The French
made a valiant resistance. Charles himself was exposed to
considerable danger, as he fought in the midst of the action.
The Stradiots, who formed the infantry of the marquis, for
sook the combat in order to plunder the French baggage
The knights and cavaliers of Charles took this opportunity to
charge and beat in the Italian cavalry, which soon fled. Thus
a partial victory remained to the French.  They had the
honor of encamping for that night on the disputed field. The
next morning, however, they continued their retreat; nor did
they allow themselves repose until they reached Asti, where
the duke of Orleans was to have awaited them with rein




1498.           DEATH OF CHARLES VI1I.               139
forcements. That prince had, however, made use of the troops
under his command to attack Milan. He was now shut up in
Novara. Charles, instead of receiving support, was obliged
to march to the duke's aid. His liberation was effected by a
treaty with Louis Sforza. Charles returned to France, and
the north of Italy relapsed into its usual state of quiet vigilance.
Meantime Ferdinand was recovering his kingdom of Naples
from the French, who had been left to guard it. His first attempt was, however, unsuccessful. He passed over from
Sicily into Calabria with 5000 men under Gonsalvo de Cordova, known in Spain by the name of the great captain.
Stuart count of Aubigny, great-grandson of the Scotch
constable killed at the fight of Herrings, marched against
Gonsalvo, defeated him, and Ferdinand escaped with difficulty.
This prince, not discouraged, soon returned with a fleet,
showed himself before his capital, which rose in his favor,
and expelled the count de Montpensier. War, however, still
continued, from the pusillanimity of the Italian troops, Ferdinand and Gonsalvo both fearing to encounter the French in
the open field. Charles made an effort to succor his partisans
in Naples. An army was raised, and the command of it given
to the duke of Orleans; but this prince, observing the weak
state of the king's health, refused to enter on a distant expedition at a time when he might be suddenly called to the
throne. Montpensier, thus abandoned, saw his forces graduully diminish: he himself was shut up in Atella, and soon
after obliged to surrender upon conditions, ill observed by
Ferdinand.  Stuart of Aubigny make good his retreat to
France with his troops. Montpensier died soon after of a
malady which carried off numbers of the captive French.
Thus terminated in defeat all the ambitious schemes of
Charles, and all his dreams of rivalling the fame and conquests of Charlemagne. His sons perished in infancy one
after the other; the name of the last, Charles Orlando, marking the favorite studies and thoughts of the monarch. In the
spring of 1498 a game of ball which interested the king, was
played in the foss6 of the castle of Amboise, where he resided.
Charles, an affectionate husband, brought the queen to witness
it. Passing in haste through the low archway of a gallery,
he struck his head somewhat violently against it; for the moment the blow did not seem to affect him, but soon after he
was seized with a stroke of apoplexy, and died at the early
age of twenty-seven. "Charles," says Comines, "was of a
small person, and little understanding; but a better creature
was not to be seen."
The crown of France had now descended from father to




140                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1498
son in an uninterrupted succession of seven monarchs from
Philip of Valois. Charles VIII. leaving no posterity, the direct line was broken.  Louis duke of Orleans, he who had
been murdered by his uncle of Burgundy, left two sons, the
duke of Orleans and the count of Angouleme. The former,
one of the captives of Azincourt, and long a prisoner in England, was the father of the prince who now ascended the
throne as Louis XII. The count of Augouleme also left a
son, cousin-german of course to Louis, and now heir presumptive: he afterwards became Francis I. Whilst engaged
in royal genealogy, we may glance at the house of Bourbon.
The sieur or lord of Beaujeu had become duke of Bourbon
by the death of his elder brother; his issue was limited to a
daughter. The male heir to the duchy was Charles of Bourboin, count de Montpensier, son of him who had defended Naples for Charles VIII., and who had died in that capital. By
the intervention of the new monarch, the young Charles
count de Montpensier married Susanne de Bourbon, thus
preserving united the titles and heritage of this illustrious
family.
Louis XII. formed in person a contrast to his predecessor.
He was tall, agile, strong, and equally accomplished in the
exercises and graces of knighthood. He had sustained all
those fevers in his youth that spring from a quick and generous temper. He had been dissipated, extravagant, turbulent.
Like our fifth Harry, he discarded these vices ere he ascended the throne, and a similar spirit of forgiveness marked his
accession. When some of his courtiers urged him  to disgrace La Tremouille, the general who had defeated him at
St. Aubin, Louis replied, " The king of France must not remember the injuries offered to the duke of Orleans." His
first step was one strongly urged by policy, as well as private
affection. He had been compelled by Louis XI. to espouse
that monarch's daughter Jeanne, a princess deformed in person though amiable in disposition. Through the pope's dispensation, as well as by the decree of a commission, this mar
riage was broken, though poor Jeanne pleaded with all the
eloquence of injured womanhood against it; and Louis married the widow of his predecessor, to whom, as Anne of
Britany, he had formerly paid court. Thus was secured an
important province, which the duchess might have carried tc
another suitor.
This great point settled, Louis published a number of ordi.
nances regulating and new-modelling the army, the revenue,
and the judicature. In his former capacity as a subject, an
oppressed and malcontent subject, he had made himself acquainted with the defects of the system, which, as a king, lie




1498.          VIEWS OF LOUIS ON ITALY.                 141
now applied himself to remedy. The council of state, among
others, he remodelled, filling it with the sage and experienced of all ranks. Poor Philip de Comines, who had intrigued and suffered captivity for the duke of Orleans, was
now, however, slighted by the king. Louis turned his back
on the fickle and astute politicians, the old accomplices of his
treason, as Harry the Fifth forsook the companions of his dissipations. We, however, should be grateful for a neglect
which gave Comines leisure to compose a history of his times,
less finished, detailed, and clear than that of Guicciardini,
but certes far more lively, forcible, and entertaining. The
chief authority under Louis was given to George, now created
cardinal of Amboise, the first person who ostensibly bore the
character of prime minister. Hitherto any attempt of a monarch to delegate his authority was considered pusillanimity
and crime; but now, as foreign relations became more extended and more complicated, it was seen that not the weakness of private friendship, but the urgency of the public weal,
required an experienced and influential minister.
The domestic and internal affairs of the kingdom  thus
regulated, Louis turned his views towards Italy. He was
eager to renew the successes and avenge the defeats of his
predecessor. He had not only to support the claims of the
house of Anjou upon Naples, but to maintain his own private
right to the duchy of Milan, which he pretended to inherit
from  his grandmother Valentine Visconti.  The Sforzas,
soldiers of fortune, had usurped the duchy, and founded
their right on the marriage of the first Sforza with Blanche,
the natural daughter of the last Visconti. Louis XI. had
allied with them, and had refused to permit the duke of Orleans to insist upon his heritage. No sooner did the latter
become Louis XII. than he assumed the title of duke of Milan,
and prepared, by arms and alliances, to prosecute his claim.
Ludovico Sforza had usurped the duchy, and secured it by
poisoning his nephew: he was peculiarly hateful to the
French, from having been the first to entice Charles VIII.
into Italy, and afterwards the first to betray him. His crimes
made him equally odious to his countrymen. The pope was
won over by the gift of the duchy of Valentinois, which the
king gave to his notorious son, Caesar Borgia. The Floren
tines were in the French interest, and the Venetians leagued
with Louis in order to share the spoils of Ludovico. In short,
when a French army entered the Milanese in the summer
of 1499, it met with no resistance. The duchy submitted
almost without a blow, and Ludovico fled to Inspruck, to his
only ally, Maximilian.
The supple Italians who never failed to stoop their heads




142               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1501.
under the fury of the French storm, were sure to raise them
when the tempest had subsided. Ludovico returned with an
army in the ensuing year.  The capital rose in his favor
Trivulzio, who had been left governor of the duchy, was be
sieged in the town-house, and was only rescued by the audacious gallantry of some sixty knights, his followers.  The
French were obliged to evacuate the province. At the first
tidings of the insurrection, La Tremouille marched from
France to succor Trivulzio. Ludovico sought to intercept
this aid by posting himself at Novara.  But when the outposts of both armies touched, the Swiss in Ludovico's service
learned that their comrades in the French army were better
paid and treated. On the eve of action these mercenaries
declared their intention of deserting to the French. Ludovico
Sforza used the strongest entreaties to dissuade them; bit
finding them determined, he merely begged not to be delivered to the enemy. How was he to escape firom Novara,
in which he was in a manner besieged? The Swiss consented
to allow him to mingle in their ranks, clothed as one of their
soldiers.  Their treachery, however, or the vigilance of the
French, discovered the unfortunate Ludovico in tke Swiss
ranks, as they marched out of Novara. He was laken, and
conveyed to France, where he was confined in the castle of
Chinon until he died. Thus Louis, having fortunately made
himself master of the person of his rival, subdued for the
second time the duchy of Milan.
The conquest of Naples still remained to be achieved; but
the present enmity of Maximilian king of the Romans rendered it inexpedient to undertake at present so distant an
expedition, which would leave Milan exposed to the hostility
of the Germans. This inability to conquer, joihed with the
impatience to possess, caused Louis to commit.n egregious
blunder. He formed an alliance with Ferdinld king of
Spain, to divide between them the kingdom of Naples, to the
exclusion of its reigning monarch, who was of the illegitimate
race of Aragon. Louis was to have the better or northern
half of the kingdom, the city of Naples included. Ferdinand,
who merely wanted a pretext to obtain a footing in the Peninsula, and introduce forces, was to content himself with
Apulia and Calabria. Accordingly, Ferdinand sent Gonsalvo
de Cordova, and Louis dispatched Stuart of Aubigny, each
to conquer their respective portions, which they effected; the
reigning monarch at first confiding to Gonsalvo, who of course
betrayed him. Frederick of Naples, being driven from his
capital and kingdom, fled first to Ischia and thence to France,
where Louis gave him the duchy of Anjou as a compensation
ftr the loss of his crown.




1502.        LOUIS LEAGUES AGAINST VENICE.             143
Conquest is like gambling. The excitement of tie game
being pleasure greater than even the possession of the prize,
the winner is ever driven to venture on a fiesh stake. Louis
now turned his views towards the Venetians.  They had
obtained Cremona, Bergami, Brescia, the eastern territories
of the duchy of Milan, as the price of their co-operation
against Sforza. The king envied them  this portion of his
duchy, as they hated and feared the newly grown power of
a foreign monarch in Italy.  He endeavored to bring Maximilian of Austria to join in an alliance against them; and a
treaty was concluded, by which Maximilian promised the
investiture of the duchy of Milan to Louis.  Maximilian's
grandson Charles (afterwards emperor) was to marry the
princess Claude, the daughter of Louis. The designs, however, which the monarchs entertained against Venice were
interrupted by the bad faith of Ferdinand of Spain, which
began to manifest itself in Naples. The agreement by which
this kingdom  was partitioned between two rival powers,
without any fixed line of demarcation, was necessarily rather
a source of war than a seal of peace. A great portion of the
country's revenue proceeded from  the tax on the herds of
cattle, which were yearly collected in the plains. Quarrels
arose about this, and about the limits of the provinces; and
war soon broke out between Gonsalvo and the duke de Nemours, who was viceroy for the French.
Never was a prince more benevolent and wise in his domestic and internal policy than Louis XII.; yet never was
prince led astray by ambition to commit greater blunders and
injustice than he in his relations with foreign princes. He
was now leagued with the Borgias-the father, the execrable
pope Alexander VI.; his son Cesar Borgia, one of the heroes
of Machiavel. They betrayed Louis at every turn; crushed
and murdered his friends.  Still the French king temporized:
and in a treaty concluded with them at this period, he agreed
to sacrifice to them several of the independent nobility of
Italy-among others, the Bentivoglios and the Orsini.  One
of the causes of this blindness in Louis was the care which
the pope took to win the favor of the cardinal of Amboise,
the French minister, whom  he cajoled in a manner which
was afterwards practised on Wolsey, by flattering him with
the hope of succeeding tc the popedom.  The French were
at first the strongest party in Naples.  Gonsalvo retired before D'Aubigny, and shut himself in Barletta. There were
several combats: one, in which the brave La Palisse was
taken; another, of thirteen French against thirteen Italians,
in which the Italians had the best, although their enemies
aste:rt that the advantage was won by treacherously stabbing




144               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1503,
the horses of the French knights. The Spanish monarch had
recourse to artifice, his usual weapon. Seizing the opportunity of his son-in-law the archduke Philip's travelling through
France, he proposed a new treaty to Louis, by which Naples
was to be brought as the princess Claude's dowry to young
Charles, the grandson of Charles and Maximilian.  Louis
XII., who seemed as fond of negotiations and treaties as he
was certain to be duped in them, gladly and confidently agreed
to these proposals. He relaxed in his exertions for reinforcing
his army in Naples, while Ferdinand made use of the interval to send potent succors. to Gonsalvo.  The continued hostilities and successes of this captain, notwithstanding the
pacific declaration and arrangement of his master, awakened
Louis from his supine confidence. But it was too late. D'Aubigny was beaten by the Spaniards and taken prisoner at
Seminara in Calabria, the scene of one of his former victories.
On the same day of the ensuing week, the hostile commanders, Gonsalvo and the duke de Nemours, met at Cirignola.
It was towards evening, and the Spaniards threw  up an
intrenchment before their position.  The duke de Nemours
would not tarry.  He ordered an instant attack, which was
at first successful. He himself, leading on another to support
it, was slain by a bullet from an arquebuss; and his followers
failing in the assault, a rout ensued, in which the French
army were for the most part dispersed. Naples surrendered
to Gonsalvo.  Its castle was taken by mining,-a mode of
offence invented in these wars. Shortly afterwards, the fortress of Gaeta was the only post in the kingdom that held for
the French.
Louis was exasperated to the utmost.  Ie raised armies
to attack Ferdinand in the Pyrenees and in Italy; but equally
without a result. La Tremouille, the French general, fell
ill, and Gonzaga marquis of Mantua, who took the command,
from want of either zeal or talent did nothing.  The army,
too, was delayed near Rome by the intrigues of the pope, and
the unwillingness of the cardinal of Amboise to break with
him. The reign of the Borgias was immediately after brought
to a t.'agical close. The pope and his son had invited several rich cardinals, their intimates, to sup with them  in a
vineyard. The Borgias intended to poison them; and Caesar
Borgia senm some bottles of medicated wine, under the especial care of a domestic, to the spot. The pope arrived first;
he was thirsty, and called for drink. The poisoned wine was
poured out for him; and his son, coming in at the moment,
partook of it. Pope Alexander expired soon after, and his
son's life was saved only by means of antidotes and a strong
conS't'tion. Great intrirgues agitated the conclav,.  An




1504.              ILLNESS OF LOUIS.                 145
aged and infirm pope was elected by way of compromise. In
another conclave the cardinal of Amboise was not more successful. An Italian prelate was preferred, who soon displayed
his imperious, ambitious, and warlike spirit, under the hame
of Julius II. Caesar Borgia had contributed to his election,
in return for a promise of protection; and Julius showed his
gratitude by arresting Borgia immediately afterwards.  He
escaped, however, and fled to Gonsalvo, who, receiving him
with friendship equally insincere, put an end to the career
of this prince of intrigue by sending him prisoner to Spain
In the mean time the French army remained inactive for
want of a chief. Gonzaga had been driven from the command
by the taunts of the French: the marquis of Saluces succeeded him, but with no more success. The campaign served but
to display the valor of the brave Bayard, who alone defended
the passage of a bridge against a body of Spaniards for a
considerable time.  Gonsalvo was everywhere successful;
and Gaeta, the last fortress of the French, surrendered in a
panic.
The tidings of this ill fortune, and especially of the loss of
Gaeta, so affected Louis that he fell into a dangerous illness.
He was tended with exemplary affection by his queen, Anne
of Britany.  But that prudent princess, seeing his death
imminent, dispatched much of her valuables to be conveyed
down the Loire to Britany.  The heir to the crown, young
Francis count of Angouleme, then inhabited, with his mother,
the chateau of Amboise. The marshal de Gie was the chief
counsellor and influential man of this embryo court. Overzealous for the interests of the future king, and deeming Louis
past hope, de Gie stopped the valuables of the queen as they
descended the Loire past Amboise. Anne never forgave the
insult. Louis recovered, and the marshal de Gie was pursued
by the vengeance of the queen for years. He was tried; and
it is a great proof of the improvement of the judicature, that
he escaped with life from so powerful an enemy.  This circumstance increased the hatred between the mother of Francis, Louisa of Savoy, and queen Anne.  By the last treaty
with Maximilian it had been agreed that his grandson Charles
should marry Claude, the daughter of Louis, and with her
inherit the Milanese. Some time previous to the last illness
of the king, Maximilian had sent an embassy to conclude and
enlarge this treaty. The monarch was at the time sorely
exed by his disasters in Naples, and greatly enraged against
the fickleness and bad faith of the Italian powers. Above all
he was incensed against Venice; and in order to be avenged,.i. this proud republic, he granted to Maximilian all that he,!iked. The cessions then made or stipulated by Louis are




146               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1506.
o enormous as to be incredible.  The heirs of his daughter
Claude by Charles of Luxembourg were to possess not only
Milan, but the duchies of Burgundy and Britany, which thus
dismember the monarchy of France, and reduce it almost by
one half.  De Seyssel, the minister and biographer of Louis.
excuses his conduct on this occasion, by saying that the king
merely wanted to gain Maximilian's aid against the Venetians, and that he never intended to fulfil these conditions. I
do not credit this would-be exculpation, which sacrifices the
king's good faith to his patriotism.  It seems much more
probable that these stipulations were owing to the influence
of Anne of Britany; to the love of that queen. for her own
daughter, whose exaltation she preferred to that of France;
and at the same time to Anne's hatred of Louisa of Savoy,
and of her son Francis, the heir to the throne. Every French.
man was shocked and terrified at the prospect of these
provinces being conveyed to a foreign power. Louis himself,
listening to the voice of his counsellors, was struck with
remorse at the folly and want of patriotism which characterized
such measures. The states-general were called together: they
drew up a strong remonstrance against them, and supplicated
that the princess Claude should be given in marriage to
Francis. The king consented to this. But so long as Anne
of Britany lived, she never allowed.he marriage to take
place.
Maximilian was of course extremely wroth on learning
that the king of France and the assembly of the nation refused to fulfil the treaty.. He resolved to attack the French
in Italy. Genoa about this time had rebelled against Louis.
The Genoese had for very many years been oscillating between freedom and a state of dependence on France. Equally
intolerant of either condition, they changed from one to the
other, and knew no repose.  Louis, however, conquered and
reduced them to submission. Maximilian was too late to support their insurrection. The Venetians, then allies of the
king, barred the passage of the Austrians into Italy. They
defeated Maximilian, and compelled him to purchase a treaty,
resigning his conquests. They concluded it without awaiting
the consent of Louis, or allowing him to derive from it any
advantage.
This was a new grievance added to the many already entertained against these republicans by the French.  Maximilian was of course ready to join against them. Pope Julius
was at variance with them on account of Faenza, and othe:
towns, the wreck of the Borgian usurpations, which they
neld. Between these powers and Ferdinand of Spain was
formed the thmous league of Cambray for the destruction of




1509.         DEFEAT OF TIE VENETIANS.              147
Venice. It was called famous from having nearly attained
its aim,-a distinction which could be applied to few treaties
of the time. In raising his army for this enterprise, the king
made an important improvement in his levies. He began to
mistrust the Swiss, whose mercenary and turbulent spirit
was scarcely recompensed by their character for courage.
Therefore, although he hired a corps of them to the number
of 6000, he at the same time endeavored to resuscitate the
French infantry.  Louis XI. had abandoned the good custom
of training the French peasants to arms, which had so contributed to the victories of Charles VII. The despot dreaded
a national army. The armies of Charles VIII., and hitherto
those of Louis XII., were composed of mounted gentlemen,
who formed the cavalry, and of hired Swiss, or perhaps a few
Gascons, for infantry.  This was the principal reason of the
first success and subsequent defeats of the French in Naples.
Cavalry force, so superior when in good condition, is liable to
be unhorsed, and is more easily disorganized than infantry.
Louis now levied a body of infantry in France of from 12,000
to 14,000 men. To give spirit and respectability to this force,
he induced his bravest captains, Bayard, Molard, and Chabannes, to fight on foot and command these new brigades;
and it required all his influence to make them submit to such
degradation. The French cavalry amounted to 12,000 men.
With this army he marched against the Venetians.  Their
army, nowise inferior, was commanded by the count de Petilliana, whose policy accorded with the orders of the senate to
avoid a battle. Alviana, the Venetian general, second in
command, risked an attack in despite of this at Agnadel. An
action took place, in which the count feebly supported his
lieutenant. Louis, who fought in the thickest of the engagement, was victorious. The Venetian army was utterly routed;
and the French king, advancing to the brink of the Lagunes.
enjoyed the satisfaction of sending from his cannon some vain
shots against the discomfited but still unsubdued queen of the
Adriatic.
This success dissolved the league. The fick e Maximilian
found some other phantom to pursue. He wished to become
pope. Julius II., having obtained possession of the towns
which he coveted from the Venetians, leagued with them
against Louis; and a war, or a succession of skirmishes, ensued between the French and him, which is amusing by the
scruples of the French generals, who feared to make the
most of their advantages. It is singular how much more free
from idle superstition the middling orders were than the
higher.  The king, the queen, and even the gallant knights
Bayard and de Chaumon i, shrunk from warring against the
10




148               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1512.
sovereign pontiff. The states-general, the commons of France,
on the contrary, urged the war, and declared that Julius, who
himself wielded the sword, might be made to suffer from it
Louis, in consequence, sent a powerful army against the pope.
under the command of Gaston de Foix, duke of Nemours, his
sister's son, then twenty-two years of age. Gaston showed
himself worthy to command.  His army, upwards of 20,000
strong, counted in its ranks 5000 lansquenets in Maximilian's
service. That prince wrote to them to retire. Gaston intercepted and destroyed the letter, and without loss of time
laid siege to Ravenna, in order to induce the enemy to risk
an engagement for its relief. His artifice succeeded. The
troops of the pope, the Venetians, and the king of Spain,
marched towards Ravenna, and Gaston faced about to meet
them.  The battle of Ravenna ensued, the most serious that
had been fought for many years. The two armies confronted
each other on the 11th of May. The Spaniards being intrenched, Gaston hesitated to attack, and the action began
with firing and cannonade.  When it had lasted some hours,
Fabricio Colonna, who commanded the papal troops, weary
of seeing them mowed down without striking a blow, rushed
over the intrenchment to charge the French: Bayard, Gaston, and his companions, withstood the attack, and after half
an hour's combat the Italians were put to the rout.  The
Spaniards, however, under Peter of Navarre, held their
ground.  They consisted chiefly of infantry, being but 400
horse to 4000 foot. Ferdinand, in his Moorish wars, had imitated Charles VII.'s wise policy in arming the peasants and
creating a national infantry. In the present action the Spaniards had suffered little; being intrenched, they had lain
down during the cannonade, and had, with ease, repulsed the
lansquenets.  Even now, when deserted by their allies, they
retreated step by step, showing a bold front to their enemies.
Gaston de Foix, elated with his victory, was enraged to see
the Spaniards escape unbroken.  Gathering in haste a few
cavaliers, the young general himself charged furiously upon
the retreating phalanx to break it. The hero met his death,
being pierced with fourteen pike-wounds.  Yves d'Alegre,
another celebrated French captain, perished with him; and
Lautrec, afterwards so famous, lay pierced with a number of
wounds.  The French, nevertheless, were victorious.  The
two generals, Peter of Navarre and Fabricio Colonna, were
prisoners; and we also mark in the list the marquis of Pescara and the cardinal de' Medici, soon after Leo X.
The sack of Ravenna was almost the only fruit reaped by
this signal victory.  Julius II., undaunted by defeat, refused
to yield. He raised up  he English and the Swiss against




1514.              DEATH OF JULIUS II                  149
Louis, who was threatened with invasion from both these
countries.  Maximilian let loose upon Milan his namesake
Maximilian Sforza, son of Ludovico; and the Swiss espoused
the youth's pretensions.  The cantons were enraged against
Louis for attempting to substitute French soldiers for them.
When he sent La Tremouille to negotiate with them, tney
demanded that 15,000 Swiss should be yearly hired, and paid
by France in peace and war. They demanded also the Milanese for Sforza, and the abolition of the pragmatic sanction for
the pope. It is said, they also resented some injurious words
spoken by Louis. Whatever was its cause, their resentment
was but too well seconded by their force. The French under
La Falisse and Trivulzio were driven out of the Milanese,
and even Genoa again declared itself independent. The feats
of Bayard during this unfortunate campaign might be made
to fill pages, but they availed nothing.  Navarre was at the
same time wrested by Ferdinand from  Jean d'Albret.  Although the king of France still bears the title, the province
has ever since remained to the Spaniards.
The death of Julius II. occurred about this time, to give
some respite to Louis.  His successor, Leo X., was not unfriendly to France.  The enmity between Louis and Ferdinand burned less fierce, and a truce was agreed on. The
king's darling object was the Milanese, which he had twice
lost; his efforts were now exerted to recover it for the third
time. An army marched thither under La Tremouille and
Trivulzio; and the Milanese, as usual, submitted to the superior force. Sforza. shut himself up with 6000 Swiss in Novara, and was soon besieged there. Those mountaineers were
actuated by implacable hatred against the French: they sallied forth before daybreak from Novara, to surprise the invaders in their camp; it was defended by a formidable park
of artillery, which did great execution in their dense ranks,
until, with undaunted perseverance, they carried the intrenchments and turned the guns of the French. The cavalry escaped; but all the infantry, the body most odious to the Swiss,
perished. The veteran La Tremouille lost a leg. Thus once
more did the fabric of French conquests in Italy fall in ruins
to the ground. Louis had no longer spirits to return to the
charge; nor, if he had, would his enemies have allowed him
leisure. Henry VIII. of England had invaded France in concert with Maximilian.  He laid siege to Terouenne.  The
French succeeded in throwing supplies into the town; but
being attacked suddenly some days after by the English and:mperialists, they were seized with a panic and fled. This
nas been called the battle of Spurs.  Bayard, who refused tc
join in the flight of his comoatriots, was made prisoner after




150               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  1514.
a gp!;mnt defence. Terouenne was the sole conquest of Henry.
The Swiss at the same time had burst into Burgundy; La
Tremouille had no forces to oppose them, and he was soon
besieged in Dijon. He offered to treat; and they demanded
the most exorbitant conditions.  In the present distressed
state of the monarchy, La Tremouille thought deceit warrantable: he promised the Swiss all their demands, aware
that the king would afterwards disavow them; and at the
same time offered a large sum, at which the Swiss greedily
caught, and decamped to their mountains. Never did a more
fearful storm menace France; happily, however, it blew over.
Fortunately too for Europe, at that time when ambition
reigned uncontrolled by any maxim of either justice or prudence, the means of warlike defence were so much superior
to those of offence, that conquests were never permanent,
unless where they were salutary and natural extensions of
territory or empire.
In January, 1514, Louis lost his queen, Anne of Britany,
to whom he was tenderly attached. She was a woman of distinguished beauty, though she limped in her gait. She possessed great influence over Louis; was proud, independent,
and obstinate,-qualities characteristic of the Bretons. Anne
was at the same time a pious, chaste, and exemplary queen.
It was through her influence and importance that the female
sex, hitherto excluded, were introduced into society: she
formed a court, and collected around her the principal young
ladies of rank in the kingdom, whose manners and principles
she loved to form. Unfortunately, the successor of Louis saw
in this collection of beauty but a prey for his licentiousness 
and Francis thus speedily corrupted an institution intended
by its virtuous patroness to purify as well as adorn society.
The establishment of a court, that is, of a court in which
woman's presence was allowed and her influence felt, was,
trifling as it may seem, the most important innovation of the
age.
Louis, attached as he had been to Anne, did not long delay
to fill up the place by her left vacant. Policy joined with
other reasons to prompt this step. As the seal of a reconciliation and alliance with Henry VIII., Louis espoused that
monarch's sister Mary, a princess then in the flower of her
age. The gay habits of a bridegroom  did not suit the constitution of the king, then turned of fifty-four. In a few weeks
after his marriage he was seized with a fever and dysentery,
which carried him off at the palace of the Tournelles, in Paris,
on the first day of the year 1515.
Never was monarch more lamented by the great mass of
his subjects than Louis XII. Iie was endeared to them prin




13it5             CHARACTER OF LOUIS XII.                   151
cipally by his economy and forbearance in levying contributions, and by his strict administration of justice, so different
from the sanguinary executions which characterized the reign
of Louis XI., when no man could be certain of life. He reduced the taxes more than one third in the early part of his
reign, and even in his distresses preferred selling the crownlands to any of the usual expedients for exaction.*  Hence
Louis earned the appellation of Father of his people. His
popularity was much greater with the middling than with
the higher classes. The latter called his economy parsimony,
and his sympathy with the commons forgetfulness of his rank.
Writers of the reigns of Louis XIV. and XV. seek to depreciate the character of Louis XII. and to elevate that of his
successor.  Louis XII. they consider as the roi roturier, the
plebeian king; Francis as the aristocratic and chevaleresque.
The nobility certainly do not appear prominent in this reign.
New names arise and become illustrious, as in the time of
Charles VII.  The lesser noblesse or gentry were in fact
treading on the heels and taking the places of the higher
aristocracy. The latter rallied or were re-created in the
days of Francis, but these tendencies were as much the effect
of opposite states and circumstances, as of the opposite characters of the two monarchs.
The writers of the Revolution reverse the system  of favoritism: they choose Louis, the father of his people, to be
their hero, and they depreciate the kingly Francis. A living
author of this school, Roederer, has seen every perfection in
Louis XII., and he considers that the commons of France
were in possession of perfect constitutional freedom during
his reign: history, however, does not present this view
of the question. Although Louis did seem  to allow in the
parliament a power of examining and objecting to his edicts,
yet the assembly of states in his reign was far from assuming
or being allowed aught like a constitutional control. The
very virtues and moderation of Louis were inimical to political freedom, since, by rendering the commons contented,
they took from them, with the wish, the right of remonstrance.
Had a prodigal and an unpopular king been reduced to the
* The imposts on the accession of Francis I. were as follows:1. The taille, amounting to 1,075,000 livres.
2. The gabelle,. being one fifth of the value of salt superadded to it.
3. The aides, a tax (of Spanish origin) on the sale of wine, wood, fish
and neat. This was a sou per livre, or one twentieth on" the gross sale, and
one third in addition on the retail.
Francis increased the gabelle, by one half; the taille was also augmented.
"Hlis levying of the aides," says Roederer, "destroyed the vineyards of France
for two centuries, and was one of the causes of the revolution of 1798." We
should add to this the sale of offices by Francis. a luraitive source of revenlue t1) him.




152               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1515
same distress as Louis was in the latter years of his reign,
the commons of France might opportunely have made a stand
for their privileges, and at least kept alive their traditions
of freedom; but nothing that took place during this reign
can induce us to retract the opinion, that in the period of
Charles the Wise and of John, French constitutional freedom
had reached its zenith, from whence it declined and sank,
until every ray was lost in the night of despotism.
CHAP. VI.
1515-1547.
FRANCIS THE FIRST.
WE have hitherto traversed the early centuries of French
history with a hurried step, our pages necessarily from their
brevity affording more information than interest. Yet, as the
remote ages of a foreign country must occupy but a limited
space in our memorv, we have perhaps not been too brief for
Englishmen. To follow closely the progress of those political
institutions, fortunately not our own, which were doomed to
perish and merge in mere despotism, would have been an
ungrateful and needless task; while to give a lively picture
of chivalrous personages and times would have required the
space and leisure, with the simplicity and detail, of the ancient chroniclers. The idlest student too may give an hour
to Froissart, whilst few there are who can devote time and
thought to the study of Guicciardini and De Thou.
For this reason greater space has been assigned to the
period we now enter upon. It may be called the frontier line
of modern history: it is the horizon which bounds our historical view; all within it stretching in continuance up to the
very present, separated only by three centuries,-an interval
which, however great it may seem to us, is in reality no very
extended portion of time. To this epoch may be traced the
different political systems and fortunes of the European states.
They had then, each of them, attained their national limits
Nations, like men, when they arrive at maturity of growth,
seek to exert their force externally. To encroach upon, to
conquer, to reduce their neighbors, is the natural impulse of
the many as of the few. Laws and civilization have restrained the frowvardness of man: it is to be hoped that a stili
greater degree of enlightenment may yet equally tame the
envious and ambitious spirit of nations; and that man in the
agLgregate may at length be taught the moral wisdom and forbearance which have been forced upon th oid:Hliv idual.




1515.           ACCESSION OF FRANCIS I.              153
At that time aggrandizement was the only aim that policy
could propose to itself. Unfortunately the same maxim, however refuted, is far from being exploded; although the great
lesson of modern history is the hopelessness of pushing conquests beyond geographical limits. What quantities of blood
were spilt in vain attempts of English kings to seize part of
France!-in the efforts of French princes to hold portions of
Italy! If it was the mad policy of one nation to conquer, it
became that of the other to defend, and of the third to interfere in favor of the weakest. Hence the great principle of
the balance of power, first acted upon by the Italian states,
and from them extending, in this period, until it became
the policy of Europe. It began to be understood and to prevail at the very time when monarchs, growing universally
despotic, and wielding the mature powers and resources of
their kingdoms, felt themselves naturally inclined and urged
to conquest. This great principle neutralized their efforts;
and by rendering universal dominion impracticable, completed the final demarcation between ancient and modern
times.
Francis I. ascended the throne at the age of twenty-one:
he was tall, handsome, robust. Reared in retirement at Amboise under the care of his mother, Louisa of Savoy, a gallant dame, he received the education of a knight rather than
that of a monarch. While young Charles, his future rival,
was made to study history and political science under an active statesman, Francis was merely taught the accomplishments of chivalry, garnished with such lighter studies as
romance and rhyming story, and the feats of classic heroes
told in.modern fashion. He thus ascended the throne with
no more solid principles than a love of pleasure and of glory.
Francis was, however, of a kind and friendly nature. For
his mother he ever entertained the most obsequious regard;
and his piety in this respect was unfortunate: it was her influence that displayed itself in the first appointments of the
new reign. Duprat was made chancellor; and the duke of
Bourbon, a young man of handsome person but austere manners, was nominated constable. An agreeable exterior was
equally the passport to the favor of Francis and to that of his
mother. Bonnivet, the future favorite and admiral, was the
handsomest man of his time. The family of Foix were equally
distinguished for personal attractions: the three brothers, one
of whom was Lautrec, were advanced to the command of
armies, and their sister became the mistress of the young
monarch.
It is singular, that almost the first political act of both
Francis and of Charles, then but count of Flanders, was to




154               HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1515
enter into a mutual treaty: Charles promised to restore Na
varre when he should succeed to the throne of Spain; which
succession Francis, on the other hand, guarantied to him.
Charles was so gratified with the conduct of his ambassador,
Henry of Nassau, upon this account, that he asked and obtained for him from Francis the hand of Claude de Chhlon,
sister of Philibert prince of Orange. It was this marriage
that transported the title and estates of Orange to the house
of Nassau.
The first thought that naturally occurred to a young monarch like Francis was to reconquer the Milanese, and avenge
the defeat of his predecessor. Alliances were the first consideration, and the French ministers used every art to lessen
the number of their enemies. The projects of invading Italy
were kept a profound secret, and the fears of the Italian
princes were allayed by the peaceable declarations of the
French envoys. The learned Budeus was the ambassador
sent by Francis to pope Leo on this occasion. The Swiss,
enraged at the nonperformance of the stipulations accepted
at Dijon by La Tremouille, threatened France with an invasion. Francis grasped at the pretext to raise and assemble
an army'in Burgundy. This alarmed Ferdinand of Spain,
as well as Maximilian of Austria, and his namesake Sforza,
then in possession of Milan. The revolt of Genoa to the
French at the same time betrayed their views upon Italy.
And the Swiss accordingly, instead of invading Burgundy,
poured down into Piedmont, and occupied all the known
passes of the Alps.
In raising funds for the equipment of his army, Francis
already displayed his reckless and imperious character. He
shrunk from assembling the states, which had usually been
the first act of a new reign. At the same time he feared to
commence by the unpopular measure of augmenting the
taille. As an expedient, Duprat proposed to render the offices
of the judicature venal. A new chamber of twenty counsellors was created, and the seats were put up to auction.
There had been previous instances of principal offices being
purchased, but' Francis was the first king that appointed
judges in parliament for money. Strange it is, that a corruption so gross and so revolting had an effect rather beneficial.  It increased the independence of French judges, and
gave them politically much greater weight than they had
before possessed; while sentiments of honor, traditionally
cherished and observed by the great families of the robe.
enforced of course with a due reverence for public opinion,
proved sufficient to keep the source of justice pure-even




1515         ARMY ASSEMBLED AT LYONS.               155
purer, perhaps, than in countries where the nomination depended on the royal will.
The army now assembled by Francis at Lyons was estimated at 60,000 men, the most formidable in number that
France had yet equipped.  There were 2500 gentlemen
cavaliers, each attended by his suite of four or five horsemen.
These were the Gensdarmerie.  The lansquenets, or hired
German infantry, amounted to 22,000. Six thousand Gascon
infantry, as many more French promiscuously levied, and
3000 pioneers, completed the army. The rear-guard advanced
under the constable Bourbon to clear the passage of the Alps,
and to force the Swiss from the post of Susa, which blocked
up the only two known roads across the mountains. To find
or make another path became necessary, in order to turn the
impregnable position; and fortunately a guide undertook to
lead the French over the Cottian Alps into the marquisate of
Saluces. Even for the army to pass was a work of difficulty,
but their artillery was what the French captains chiefly relied
on to discomfit the Swiss. To drag cannons over deep valleys and precipitous steeps was more than Hannibal had
achieved, and was afterwards one of the principal boasts of
the army that conquered at Marengo. The soldiers of France
accomplished the task, however, and penetrated into Italy by
the sources of the Po. The Italians did not suspect the possibility of so hardy an enterprise. Prospero Colonna was
traversing Piedmont at the head of the papal cavalry to join
the Swiss, and was reposing at Villefranche, when the town
was surprised, and Colonna himself, and his troops, taken
prisoners by La Palisse and d'Aubigny. The news of this
surprise soon reached the Swiss, and they abandoned in a
rage their now useless position, retreating to Milan, and pillaging the towns they were obliged to evacuate. Their disappointment produced quarrels between the chiefs. The
cardinal of Sion reproached one of the captains of Berne
with partiality to the French. The captain and his soldiers,
by way of retort, demanded their pay; and the cardinal,
the sworn enemy of France, was obliged to fly from their
clamors.
This opened the way for negotiation. The king, with the
rest of his army, had in the mean time crossed the Alps, and
lay encamped at Marignano. The prowess of the Swiss was
dreaded, and the terrific day of Novara was held in remembrance. Consequently, when they demanded a large sum of
money for themselves, and a pension for Maximilian Sforza, in
return for evacuating the Milanese, the terms were granted.
Francis raised the money instantly by borrowing of his officers;
and envoys were already (I spatchod with the stipulated sum,




156               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1515
when tidings were brought to the constable, that'the Swiss,
in lieu of concluding a treaty, were meditating an attack.
The cardinal of Sion had, in fact, hurried back to Milan on
the first news of the accommodation. He called his countrymen round him, harangued them, and rekindled that hatred
to the French for which history assigns no sufficient cause.
The Swiss determined to surprise the French, to carry the
artillery in the first attack, and turn it on their enemies, an
operation so successful at Novara. Bourbon, however, was
prepared for them.  The artillery, consisting of seventy
pieces, were placed behind an intrenchment, commanding the
road; the lansquenets were stationed to guard it, while the
cavalry, drawn up behind, and on each side, waited to observe the order of the Swiss. They came on in silence, without drum or trumpet; a cloud of dust, raised. by their speed,
announcing, nevertheless, their approach. It was the middle
of September, several hours after noon. The Swiss came in
one compact column, rushing on the artillery, and against the
lansquenets, those rivals in their mercenary profession of
war, whom they hated, and whom they swore that day to exterminate. At first the lansquenets recoiled from the furious
charge of the Swiss: some of the cannon were already captured; when the cavalry and the black bands, the king himself amongst them, extended in the form of wings, and took
the phalanx of the Swiss on either side in flank. The lansquenets, thus supported, took courage. The first charge of
the Swiss, so universally victorious, was here not decidedly
successful, and having no longer the advantage of an impulse, their pikes became less formidable. Obliged to face
enemies that almost surrounded them, their phalanx was split
into numerous bodies, which continued the combat, not only
till sunset, but even till the moonlight failed them. Some of
these bodies succumbed, however: one yielded to a charge
led by the king himself; the Swiss throwing down their halberds, and crying "France!" in token of submission.  Towards midnight, utter darkness stopped the combat, and both
parties, intermingled, slept or kept watch in little bands
amongst their enemies.  The king himself reposed on the
stock of a cannon.
When day broke, both armies rallied;-the Swiss to form
their original phalanx; the French round their cannon, which
were again plied with true aim and fearful alacrity. The
Swiss renewed the attack. The lansquenets still held the inLrenchment; the rest of the army assailed the enemy in flank
After some hours' fighting, the Swiss began to despair. They
now condescended to manceuvre, and dispatched a considerable body to turn and attack the French camp in rear; but it




1515.        DUCHY OF MILAN CONQUERED.              157
was too late; the division was beaten back, and naught wa:
left for the Swiss but to retreat. This they did in good order
and undaunted; though pursued not only by the victorious
French, but by the Venetians, who arrived at the close of the
action. The count de Petigliana, the Venetian general, desirous to share in the combat, charged the retreating Swiss,
and perished.
Thus did the young monarch signalize the very commencement of his reign by a splendid victory gained over the most
renowned soldiers in Europe, and those whom the French
had most to fear. The veteran Trivulzio, who had seen seventeen pitched battles, called all of them  "child's play," in
comparison with that of Marignano, which he designated as
the "battle of giants."  Yet its more remarkable for the
glory won, than for the blood spilled in it. Trivulzio, the
king, the constable Bourbon, the duke of Lorraine, and Bayard, were all wounded or unhorsed, or in imminent peril. He
who most distinguished himself was Claude count de Guise,
brother of the duke of Lorraine: he commanded the black
bands, and had fallen, pierced by innumerable wounds; from
which he nevertheless recovered, and lived to found an illustrious name. The principal of the slain were, a prince of
the house of Lorraine, one of the house of Bourbon, and the
prince of Talmont, elder son of La Tremouille. One of the
first acts of the king, after the action, was to receive knighthood from the hand of Bayard, "the chevalier without fear
and without reproach." Sensible of the honor done to him
by the choice, Bayard vowed that the sword which had
knighted so valiant a monarch should never be wielded except against the infidels.  "WThen he had uttered this vow,"
quoth his secretary, who was his historian, "he took two
leaps, and returned the sword to its scabbard."
The duchy of Milan was conquered by the victory of larignano. The Swiss, who held the fortress of the capital,
surrendered it, being hard pressed by the armies of Peter of
Navarre, which were now in the service of the French king.
Maximilian Sforza abandoned his rights in return fbr a pension of 30,000 crowns, which he was to enjoy in France,
" nowise discontented," he said, "to be delivered from the
tyranny of the Swiss, the caprices of the emperor, and the
bad faith of the Spaniards."  It now behoved pope Leo to
make submission. He had long temporized, and ill concealed
his adherence to that patriotic policy which was averse to the
establishment of any ultramorftane power in Italy. The pope
sought an interview with the young monarch, hoping to repair by address the weakness of his position; nor did he fail.
The kino and the pontiff met at Bologna.  Francis was in




158               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1518,
exorable as to the fortresses and territorial possessions: the
pope was obliged to give up Parma and Placentia, of which
Julius II. had taken possession after the battle of Ravenna.
On other points Francis was not averse to the wishes of Leo:
he agreed to protect the influence of the Medicis in Florence;
the sovereignty of a family being far more agreeable to the
king's ideas than deitcratic freedom. But it was chiefly in
procuring the repeal of the pragmatic sanction, that bulwark
of the rights of the Gallican church, that Leo showed his
sagacity. This law, which secured the appointment of French
prelates by free election, was superseded by an agreement,
called the Concordat, which conveyed the right of nominating
prelates to the king, who in return conceded the annates, or
first year's revenue, to the pope. Both sovereigns gained by
this transaction, at the expense of the nation: the pope, a
revenue of which he stood much in need; the king, the means
of gratifying and providing for the younger members of the
nobility.
Here we may pause to remark that the old aristocracy had
almost disappeared; not only the sovereign or ducal families,
but the great territorial noblesse. And this was owing, in a
great measure, to the necessity of either dividing the family
possessions amongst many brothers, the younger having no
professional resource but the honorable rather than lucrative
profession of arms; or else to the provident care, arising from
the same motives, of not rearing a numerous family of noble
rank. The court and favoritism of Francis created a new
noblesse, which fortunately his wars distinguished; whilst
his policy, reserving to them the benefices and prelacies of
the church, hitherto open to the democracy, gave encouragement to the production and perpetuation of noble families,
which soon caused a great and pernicious excess. The policy
of Francis, however, in abrogating the pragmatic sanction,
was not so far-sighted. The popes had been long hostile to
France on this account: they were of the first influence, not
only in Italy, but with the Swiss. To win over the pope to
his side, and secure so potent an ally in support of his designs upon Italy, was the chief aim of the king. The parliament, however, made an obstinate resistance: they refused
to register the concordat. The king sent the Bastard of Savoy, his uncle, to expostulate and menace. They would not
consult in his presence: they sent a deputation to Francis,
who was then at Nampont. He made them an angry reply,
-"I am king, as well as my predecessors," said he, "and
will be obeyed, as they were. You are incessantly vaunting
to me Louis XII., and his love of justi 3; know that I love
justice as much as he. That monarcl Mc exemplarily just,




1518.       RESISTANCE OF THE PARLIAMENT.            159
drove those who rebelled against him out of the kingdom,
though they were members of the parliament: oblige me not
to do the same."  The king insisted that they should deliberate in the presence of the Bastard of Savoy. They obeyed.
out it was to come to the conclusion, that they would not
register the concordat; and they appealed to a national council. The university seconded the wish, and joined in the resistance of the parliament. This new resolve of the judicature was made known to the monarch in February, 1518;
and his fury was greater than before. " My parliament would
erect itself into a senate of Venice," said he; "let it confine
itself to the administration of justice, which is worse than
ever. I must drag the parliament in my suite, as I do the
great council, and watch over its conduct." After prolonging
the contest some time, the members were at length induced
to yield to the menaces of the king. The obnoxious concordat
was registered in the presence of La Tremouille; but they
at the same time entered into a secret engagement to adhere
in their decisions to the pragmatic sanction, and not to the
concordat.  This secret engagement they kept. When an
ecclesiastical vacancy occurred, the king nominated on one
side, the chapter elected on the other; and the parliament, to
whom the dispute was referred, never failed to decide in favor of the latter.  The king was at length wearied by this
obstinacy, and ended by depriving the parliament of all jurisdiction over ecclesiastical appointments, ordering that all disputes on these matters should be referred to his council.
Francis was here made to feel how much his sale of judicial offices had made the judicature independent. The disinclination to meet the states-general, had thus raised up in
their place another body of functionaries, who felt themselves
entitled and emboldened to offer at the least a shadow of a
national opposition. It was indeed but a shadow. The famed
legal resistance which the parliament henceforward claimed
the right of making, proved rather a cause of irritation and
delay, than an effectual bar to the pernicious exertions of the
royal will. Nevertheless it shows the effort, the tendency of
a great and civilized nation to establish some kind of check
to the absolute authority of the prince. Throughout all empires, however despotic, we find human nature making that
effort, entering that protest against utter servitude. And thus
we may infer, that political freedom and its guarantee form a
want, a necessity, and a law of his kind, towards which, as
towards society or self-preservation, man always, however
unsuccessfully, aims.
The thoughts of the French monarch were wholly bent
upon external policy  He had -cenquered Milan, won over




160               HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1519.
the pope, and ieconciled the Swiss to his interest by the promise of a large pension.  lIe cared not what sacrifices were
made at home for the accomplishment of such desirable objects. The enmity of Ferdinand of Spain, and of Maximlian
king of the Romans, still remained. The latter undertook a
campaign, in 1516, against the Venetians and French: but,
as usual, his attempt ended in discomfiture. Ferdinand of
Spain died about the same time. The first act of his grand
son Charles was to form a new treaty with Francis; it was
agreed on at Noyon. By it Claude, the infant daughter of
the French king, was betrothed to Charles, and the French
claims on Naples were to be given up as her dowry. There
was a vague promise that Spain should restore Navarre. But
the principal point to Francis was a sum of money and a
pension to be paid him by Charles. It is evident, on looking
at the treaty, that Francis gave all his advantages, his own
claim to Naples, those of his relative to Navarre, and all,
apparently, for a beggarly sum of money and an annual stipend. Could he have confided his wants to an assembly of
the nation, he would not have needed thus basely to barter
his own and the nation's dearly-won glory.  Peace was,
however, purchased by it, and Europe enjoyed a short interval
of repose.
The death of Maximilian king of the Romans took place il
January, 1519. It left the throne of the empire vacant; and
thus a new apple of discord was flung between the two great
monarchs of Europe. Charles aspired to the imperial crown
as heir of the house of Austria; Francis as a powerful and
independent monarch.
Both candidates employed all the means capable of influencing the electors, omitting neither bribes, promises, nor
intimidation. The question was decided by a person superior
to the influence of such motives: this was Frederic duke of
Saxony, the patron of Luther.  To him, for his virtues, his
brother electors decreed the imperial crown: but he magnanimously refused, gave his voice to Charles, and brought his
colleagues over to this decision. Charles V. was declared
emperor in 1520. Francis had declared that he would woo
the ambitious prize, as a mistress, with chivalrous and generous feelings towards his.rival. Nevertheless he deeply
felt the disappointment, and by no means forgave the young
emperor his success. Hitherto the French monarch had
entertained feelings of friendship for Charles; now he transferred them to Henry VII., a monarch more congenial to his
temper. A meeting took place between them, at the request
of Francis, some leagues from Calais, at a spot called ever
after the' Field of the Cloth of Gold," from the magnificence




1520.            HOSTILITIES WITH SPAIN.                161
displayed by the two courts at this interview. The time
passed in festivities, and tournaments. Although mutual acts
of courtesy and tokens of confidence passed between the
princes, still the object of Francis was not gained.  Henry,
though passionate and headlong, had still the suspicious and
selfish temper of his father and of the Tudors: he was little
given to friendship, and was moreover infected with that insular prejudice which represents the French as the natural
enemies of the English.  Above all, he was jealous of the
military fame of Francis, and never espoused his interest till.he battle of Pavia humbled the gallant monarch, and erected.he emperor into a fitter object of envy. In short, to the
vanity of her king was chiefly owing England's observance
at that time of the great principle of the balance of power.
Henry met the emperor both before and after his interview
with Francis; and his leaning, as well as that of his minister
Wolsey, was evidently towards Charles.
Squabbles and skirmishes were the prelude to a general
war.  An insurrection breaking out in Spain, was considered
as affording a favorable opportunity for recovering Navarre.
Lesparre, one of the brothers of the house of Foix, marched
into the province and conquered it; but, elate with success,
he imprudently entered Castile and besieged Logrofio. This
roused the pride of the Spaniards. An army marched against
Lesparre.  A battle ensued, in which, despite the French
superiority in cavalry and artillery, the Spanish infantry
routed that opposed to them, and won the victory. Navarre
was again lost. This expedition was not considered as a formral infraction of peace, the French having reserved to themselves, by treaty, the right of succoring Navarre.
A difference at the same time arose between the emperor
and the family De la Mark, dukes of Bouillon. Their estates
were on both frontiers, and Francis supported De la Mark.
The latter insolently defied the emperor in full diet, and
afforded him  ample pretext to arm  and to march.  Italy,
however, was the true centre of intrigue, the chief scene of
political as well as of warlike events. The ambitious spirit
cf the popes, each eager to distinguish his reign by some
signal acquisition, would not allow that country to remain at
peace.  Leo X. first leagued with Francis to conquer Naples,
and 6000 Swiss were enlisted under pontifical banners, the
king furnishing half their pay. Francis, however, either
cooled in the project, or had reason to suspect the pope's intentions. He stopped the pay of these Swiss. Recriminations
and angry dispatches passed between them; and Leo, piqued,
flung himself into the alliance of Charles. It was agreed
between them to reconquer the Milanese for Francis Sforza



162               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1520
to restore Parma and Placentia to the Ioly See; in short, to
banish French power and influence from Italy.
The government of the conquered province had been such
as to render the French yoke odious to the Milanese.  The
cause lay in the intrigues and corruption of the court. As
soon as the government has grown despotic, we are instantly
compelled to look for the causes of events in the scandalous
chronicle of harlotry. It has been related that Anne, queen
of Louis XII., had assembled around her the daughters of the
French nobility; and a court was thus gradually formed, no
longer composed solely of warriors and statesmen, but of the
gay and idle also of both sexes. This sudden freedom had
an ill effect upon public morals. The principles and habits
of courtiers were not prepared for the increased temptation.
The grossness of the age did not yet admit of that true and
pure enjoyment of female society which modern cultivation
allows. Francis, when he was suddenly released from Amboise, and found himself possessed of all power, and endowed
with all attraction, in the midst of an assemblage of beauty,
gave a loose rein to his passions. His wife Claude, daughter
of the late king, never had the command of his affections;
and the court of Francis soon arrived at that state of dissoluteness which we find recorded in the pages of Brant6me,
and from which we shrink in incredulity and disgust.
Francoise de Foix was one of those high-born maidens
whom Anne of Britany had reared near her person. That
queen had given her in marriage to the count de Chateaubriand, who retained her at his remote chateau, far from the
fascinations of a court. Francis, however, insisted on the
presence of the beauty. The countess de Chateaubriand was
summoned to the capital, and soon became the avowed and
chosen mistress of her sovereign. Her brother Lautrec was
made governor of Milan, the constable Bourbon being recalled to give place to him, and the veteran Trivulzio being
passed over. Thus were two powerful men slighted, in order
to make room for the brother of the countess of Chateaubriand.
Lautrec was a gallant soldier, but he was tyrannical and insolent: he became jealous of Trivulzio, who in his private
station still preserved the dignity and influence attached to
his years, his services, and his rank. Lautrec rendered the
French king suspicious of Trivulzio. The mistress aided the
insinuations of her brother. The veteran marshal instantly
repaired to court Being denied admittance to the royal presence, he placed himself in the way of the king near Montlhery. The monarch averted his regard in silence when he
perceived Trivulzio. The latter, stricken by the injustice
and ingratitude thus nmaifested, and weighed down with




1521.                GENERAL WAR.                    163
eighty years of trial, took to his couch and died. He was
buried at Chfttre, near Montlhery, with this epitaph over his
remainsHic quiescit qui nunquam quievit.
Lautrec's government throughout was marked with similar
injustice. The principal inhabitants of Milan were in exile
and in captivity. All sighed for the restoration of the Sforzas.
An act of insolence and imprudence on the part of Lautrec'
brother afforded the pope a pretext for openly breaking with
the French. He suddenly attacked Reggio, the chief retreat
of the Milanese exiles, hoping to surprise it; Guicciardini,
the governor, was too vigilant, however, and the injustice of
the aggressor was all that was gained by the French.
At this critical period the general war broke out. The im
perialists invaded Champagne, butwere repulsed from before
Mezieres by the gallantry of Bayard. The young Montmorency, playmate of the king, here distinguished himself.
Bonnivet the favorite, and Guise, warred on the Spanish frontier. Milan was the spot most vulnerable, and most threatened. Still Lautrec was at court, demanding money, and declaring that he would not depart without a supply. He was
aware of the enmity of the duchess d'Angouleme, who detested madame de Chauteaubriand and the house of Foix: he
knew that she was capable of intercepting, from hate to him,
the funds that were destined to the defence of the Milanese.
Lautrec was but too clear-sighted in this. Still he was persuaded to depart; the most solemn promises both of Francis
and his mother guarantying the dispatch of the necessary
funds. They never came.  The confederates, consisting of
Spain and all the Italian powers, Venice alone excepted, con
menced by the siege of Parma. They were obliged to raise
it. Lautrec was at first successful, and he even lost an opportunity of destroying the enemy. The Swiss served in both
armies; and their diet at this time recalled them from either
service, to prevent the mutual slaughter of compatriots. The
message reached the Swiss in Lautrec's army; that addressed
to the army of the confederates was intercepted by the cardinal of Sion. Lautrec was thus abandoned by his best troops;
he was compelled to retreat; and the French were driven
out of Milan. Pope Leo, on his part, took Parma and Placentia. He had been often heard to say, that he should die
contented, could he gain possession of these towns. When
he won them, his joy was so excessive that it brought on a
"ever, of which he died.
The death of pope Leo gave some respite to the French,
and n.l1ow;ed Iautrec to rally. He received reinforcenents
11




164               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 152
from France; and induced 10,000 Swiss to rejoin him, on
promises of pay from the sum that had not yet arrived. With
these forces lie pushed on to recover Milan, driving before
him the imperialists and Sforza, who took refuge in a chateau
and intrenched park, called the Bicoque. Lautrec's wish was
to turn this position; he knew it to be too strong to carry by
assault. The Swiss demanded orders to attack. Lautrec
used every means of dissuasion. Their reply was, "Our pay,
or the signal for action." The first of these alternatives was
not in Lautrec's power, and he was thus forced to abide by
the second. The Swiss, in whose front rank Montmorency
marched, attacked the intrenchments with their wonted fury.
They would not even wait for the filling up of the fosse.
A tremendous fire of artillery swept away whole ranks,
while the musketry brought down, one by one, the brave
fellows who had descended into the ditch, and were vainly
poking the walls with their lances. Their general, De la
Pierre, and twenty-two of the Swiss captains, perished.
Montmorency, wounded, was almost smothered under a heap
of slain. The rest of the Swiss, indignant against Lautrec
for the consequences of their own temerity, instantly aban.
doned him, and marched off for their mountains. Thus were
the French once more driven from Italy.
The rage of Francis against his unsuccessful general was
extreme. He refused to see him. The duchess d'Angouleme
exasperated the king's animosity by her censures; while
madame de Chateaubriand dared not intercede for her brother.
At length the constable procured Lautrec admission to the
king, who covered him with reproaches. " It is not I who
am to blame," said Lautrec; " the gendarmerie have served
eighteen months without pay; and the wilfulness of the Swiss,
both in fighting against my wish, and then abandoning me,
was owing to my inability to pay them."-" And the 400,000
Clowns 1" said the king: "Were never received," was the
answer.-Francis summoned his treasurer, Semblangay, and
asked him sternly, how came it that the promised sum had
not yet reached Lautrec?-The treasurer replied, that the
duchess d'Angouleme had made him pay it to her. The king
then rushed to the apartments of his mother:-" It is to your
avarice then, madam, that I owe the loss of the Milanese."
The duchess could not deny the receipt of the sum, but she
alleged having received it on her private account. The excuse
did not satisfy the monarch, and Semblangay kept his station.
The vengeance of the queen-mother henceforth unremittingly
followed the unfortunate treasurer. Heads of accusation can
never be wanting against a man intrusted with the finances
of a kingdom; and five years after Semblancay, an honest




1523.     THE CONSTABLE BOURBON OFFENDED.           165
and irreproachable minister, fell a victim to the intrigues and
iniquity of the monarch's mother, and died as a malefactor on
the common gibbet.
Whilst Francis met with these reverses, which were the
natural consequences of the blunders and recklessness of his
administration, the emperor Charles was carefully securing
every friend, and improving every advantage.  The new
pope, Adrian, was his creature: Wolsey's resentment, on
being disappointed of the tiara, was soothed for a time; and
Henry VIII. was induced not only to break with France, but
to send thither an army under the duke of Suffolk, which,
however, achieved nothing remarkable. The Venetian republic, also, the last of the Italian powers that inclined to
France, was estranged from his friendship, and joined the
alliance against him.
Not content with making every foreign potentate his foe,
the French monarch had at the same time the imprudence to
alienate the most powerful of his subjects. Trivulzio, we
have seen, expired beneath his neglect.  Charles, duke of
Bourbon, and constable of the kingdom, was now driven by
injustice to league with the enemies of his country. The
last duke of Bourbon had left a daughter, Suzanne. The
title, and a certain portion of the heritage, went by law to
the male heir; but as a considerable part would be inherited
by Suzanne, the paternal care of Louis XII. arranged a marrtage between Charles, the existing duke, and Suzanne de
Bourbon, thus preserving unbroken the heritage and title of
that illustrious family. The duke was of a handsome person;
and on the death of his duchess Suzanne, without issue, the
duchess d'Angouleme made advances to fill her place. This
she was the more forward in doing, as, being descended in
the female line from a previous duke of Bourbon, she considered herself to have claims on that part of the property
which might descend to a female. The constable, however,
was blind to her advances, backed by this tacit menace. And
the slighted duchess instantly put forward her claim to the
Bourbonnais as appertaining by right to her.
Bourbon had previously received affronts from the king,
who disliked his cold temper and reserved demeanor. The
duke was grave and dignified, fond of war and business, and
averse to join in the follies of a court. It appears, too, that
Francis amused himself at the duke's expense; and the latter bore raillery with so little good-humor, as to be called the
"Prince of small endurance."  Whatever was the cause,
they certainly disliked each other; and Francis manifested
this feeling first by recalling Bourbon from the government
of Milan, and afterwards by giving the command of the van



166               HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1523.
guard in one of the northern campaigns to the duke of Alen
(oni, although that post of honor was the constable's right.
Bearing all this in mind, when his hitherto unquestioned
right to the Bourbonnais was called in question, the duke instantly apprehended that a league to destroy him had been
planned by the king and his mother. Duprat, the chancellor,
was but a creature of the latter; and to hope for justice in
the event of trial was absurd. Bourbon was, therefore, driven
to look abroad for refuge or for vengeance. The emperor's
emissary was at hand, proffering him that prince's sister in
marriage, and many advantages, if he would join the emperor's party, and raise a civil war in France against its monarch. Bourbon hesitated long, but finally acceded to the
proposals of Charles. Francis in the mean time had been
roused from the lap of pleasure by the league of all Europe
against him. He was at Lyons, on his way to Italy at the
head of an army, when Bourbon was about to take the fata
step. Francis tried to soothe him: he showed his confidence
by appointing him lieutenant-general of the kingdom; ana
assured him, that whatever might be the result of this unfortunate process, he would not see him despoiled. The object
of Francis seems to have been the gratification of his mother,
and the driving of Bourbon to a marriage with her. This
failed, however, like every act of the monarch's policy. The
constable determined to join the emperor. But Francis was
now near, accompanied with forces; and as circumstances
had awakened his suspicions, he called on the constable to
accompany him to Italy. Bourbon feigned sickness, and took
to his couch, as a pretext for delay; till at length, seeing that
it would be dangerous to trifle any longer with the impatient
Francis, the constable dispersed his suite and fled, followed
by a single attendant, into the dominions of the emperor.
Francis gained by this desertion, as he confiscated the wide
domains of Bourbon. Charles acquired what he least wanted,
a general, and an unfortunate claimant.
Bonnivet, the personal enemy of Bourbon, was now intrusted with the command of the French army. He marched
without opposition into the Milanese, and might have taken
the capital had he pushed on to its gates. Having by irreolution lost it, he retreated to winter quarters beyond the
Tesino.  The operations of the English in Picardy, of the
imperialists in Champagne, and of the Spaniards'near the
Pyrenees, were equally insignificgnt. The spring of 1524
brought on an action, if the attack of one point can be called
such, which proved decisive for the time. Bonnivet advanced
rashly beyond the Tesino.  The imperialists, commanded by
four able generals, Launoi, Pescara, Bourbon, and Sforza,




1524.    THE FRENCH DEFEATED AT ROMAGNANO.    167
succeeded in almost cutting off his retreat.  They at the
same time refused Bonnivet's offer to engage.  They hoped
to weaken him by famine. The Swiss first murmured against
the distress occasioned by want of precaution. They deserted
across the river; and Bonnivet, thus abandoned, was obliged
to make a precipitate and perilous retreat. A bridge was
hastily flung across the Sessia, near Romagnano; and Bon
nivet, with his best knights and gensdarmerie, undertook to
defend the passage of the rest of the army. The imperialists,
led on by Bourbon, made a furious attack. Bonnivet was
wounded, and he gave his place to Bayard, who, never intrusted with a high command, was always chosen for that of
a forlorn hope. The brave Vandenesse was soon killed;
and Bayard himself received a gun-shot through the reins.
The gallant chevalier, feeling his wound mortal, caused himself to be placed in a sitting posture beneath a tree, his face
to the enemy, and his sword fixed in guise of a cross before
him. The constable Bourbon, who led the imperialists, soon
came up to the dying Bayard, and expressed his compassion.
" Weep not for me," said the chevalier, "but for thyself. I
die in performing my duty; thou art betraying thine."
Nothing marks more strongly the great rise, the sudden
sacro-sanctity of the royal authority in those days, than the
general horror which the treason of Bourbon excited; whilst
not very many years previous, the frequent conspiracies of
Louis XII., when duke of Orleans, are related as common
occurrences, of no extraordinary criminality. The fact is,
that this sudden horror of treason was owing, in a great
measure, to the revived study of the classics, in which treason to one's country is universally mentioned as an impiety
and a crime of the deepest dye. Feudality, with all its oaths,'ad no such horror of treason. Thus it happened, singularly,
that these classic writers, considered, and rightly so, as replete with a spirit hostile to tyranny, nevertheless afforded
to the modern world a maxim which has proved one of the
strongest supports of kingly power.
Bonnivet had evacuated Italy after this defeat at Romagnano. Bourbon's animosity stimulated him to push his advantage.
He urged the emperor to invade France, and recommended
the Bourbonnais and his own patrimonial provinces as those
most advisable to invade. Bourbon wanted to raise his friends
in insurrection against Francis; but Charles descried selfishness in this scheme of Bourbon, and directed Pescara to
march with the constable into the south of France and lay
siege to Marseilles. Although in this his views were thwarted, still Bourbon promised that the terror of his name should
bring the burgesses with the keys at the first cannon-shot




168               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1524.
The boast was idle, Marseilles made an obstinate resistance;
and Pescara, who envied the exiled prince, did not spare his
railleries on the occasion. Whilst mass was performing in
the general's tent, a shot from the town swept away the officiating priest and several officers. On hearing the bustle,
Bourbon came forth to ask the cause: "Oh!" replied Pescara,
"it is the burgesses of Marseilles, who bring us the keys of
their town."
Francis, in the mean time, alarmed by the invasion, had assembled an army. He burned to employ it, and avenge the
late affront. The king of England, occupied with the Scotch,
gave him respite in the north; and he resolved to employ this
by marching, late as the season was, into Italy. His generals,
who by this time were sick of warring beyond the Alps, opposed the design: but not even the death of his queen,
Claude, could stop Francis. He passed Mount Cenis; marched
upon Milan, whose population was spiritless and broken by
the plague, and took it without resistance. It was then mooted
whether Lodi or Pavia should be besieged. The latter, imprudently, as it is said, was preferred. It was at this time
that pope Clement VII., of the house of Medici, who had
lately succeeded Adrian, made the most zealous efforts to restore peace between the monarchies. He found Charles and
his generals arrogant and unwilling to treat. The French,
said they, must on no account be allowed a footing in Italy.
Clement, impelled by pique towards the emperor, or generosity to Francis, at once abandoned the prudent policy of his
predecessors, and formed a league with the French king, to
whom, after all, he brought no accession of force. This step
proved afterwards fatal to the city of Rome.
The siege of Pavia was formed about the middle of October. Antonio de Leyva, an experienced officer, supported by
veteran troops, commanded in the town. The fortifications
were strong, and were likely to hold for a considerable time.
By the month of January the French had made no progress;
and the impatient Francis dispatched a considerable portion
of his army for the invasion of Naples, hearing that the country was drained of troops. This was a gross blunder, which
Pescara observing, forbore to send any force to oppose the
expedition.  He knew that the fate of Italy would be decided before Pavia. Bourbon, in the mean time, disgusted
with the jealousies and tardiness of the imperial generals,
employed the winter in raising an army of lansquenets on his
own account.  From the duke of Savoy he procured funds;
and early in the year 1525 the constable joined Pescara at
Lodi with a fresh army of 12,000 mercenaries. They had,




1525.              BATTLE OF PAVIA                    169
besides, some 7000foot, and not more than 1)10 horse. With
these they marched to the relief of Pavia.
Francis had a force to oppose to them, not ony inferior in
numbers, but so harassed with a winter's siege, that all the
French generals of experience counselled a retreat. Bonnivet and his young troop of courtiers were for fighting; and
the monarch hearkened to them. Pavia, to the north of the
river, was covered in great part by the chatteau and walled
park of Mirabel. Adjoining this, and on a rising ground, was
the French camp, extending to the Tesino. Through the
camp, or through the park, lay the only ways by which the
imperialists could reach Pavia.  The camp was strongly intrenched and defended by artillery, except on the side of the
park of Mirabel, with which it communicated, and which was
occupied by the duke of Alencon, commanding what was
called the rear-guard.
The night of the 23d of February was employed by the
imperialists in sapping the park-wall.  At daybreak on the
24th a large breach appeared, and the marquis del Guasto
rushed in, surprised the duke of Alencon, and carried the
chateau of Mirabel. Brion succeeded in rallying the French,
and keeping del Guasto in check, until de Genouillac, the
master of the artillery, brought his cannon to bear on the
park and its breach. His vigorous and well-directed fire discomfited del Guasto, slaughtered the imperialists, and drove
them in rout and retreat back through the breach. This was
victory enough, could the French king have been contented
with it. But the impatient Francis no sooner beheld his enemies in rout, than he was eager to chase them in person, and
complete the victory with his good sword.  He rushed forth
from his intrenchments at the head of his gensdarmerie, flinging himself between the enemy and his own artillery, which
was thus masked and rendered useless.  The imperialists
rallied as soon as they found themselves safe from the fire of
the cannon: the other French chiefs advanced to the succor
of their monarch; Alencon supported by the Swiss on the
left, Chabannes on the right; and thus it was no longer the
attack and defence of an intrenched camp, but a drawn battle
upon an open plain.
The famous black bands of Germans in the French service
found themselves to the right of the king, between him and
the marshal de Chabannes.  They were opposed by Bourbon
and his lansquenets, who bore toward the brother mercenaries of their country a deadly hate. Bourbon's vengeance led
them on, and the black bands were annihilated in the strug(le
that took place. Their leader, the attainted duke of Sufblk,
perished with them, as well as a brother of the duke of Lor




170               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1525.
raine. Boirbon then turned upon the corps of Chabannes,
whom he had separated from the centre; and his lansquenets
were here equally successful.  Chabannes was made prisoner, and slain in a quarrel between two captains, who disputed the honor of having taken him. The king, in the mean
time, fought with undaunted courage. He slew the marquis
St. Ange with his own hand, and routed the Italian troops.
But he was ill seconded on his left by the Swiss, who unaccountably forgot their ancient valor, and by the duke of Alen(on, who fled disgracefully from the field.  The Spaniards
pressed him, but could not vanquish the French knights resolved to perish around their monarch. At length Bourbon,
victorious over the entire right wing, turned the stream of
his lansquenets against the centre. They broke the remaining
mass of gensdarmerie, and separated them into knots, which
still fought desperately, and refused to fly. The battle, confined to this one point, became a confused butchery.  Chaumont, Hector de Bourbon, perished: the mareschal de Foix,
Lautrec's brother, received his death-wound, while he was
seeking, with his drawn sword, Bonnivet. the enemy of his
house, and the cause of this disaster. Bonnivet himself, unwilling to survive, flung himself on the pikes of the lansquenets. The sight of his dead body gratified the gloomy vengeance of Bourbon.  The king, in the mean time, behind a
heap of slain, defended himself valiantly; so beaten and shattered, so begrimed with blood and dust, as to be scarcely distinguishable, notwithstanding his conspicuous armor. He had
received several wounds, one in the forehead; and his horse,
struck with a ball in the head, reared, fell back, and crushed
him with his weight: still Francis rose, and laid prostrate
several of the enemies that rushed upon him.  At this moment he was recognized by Pomperant, the only companion
of Bourbon's flight. This gentleman sprang to his aid, fell
an instant as if for pardon at the monarch's feet,. and then
rose to defend him. He at the same time counselled Francis
to surrender, telling him that Bourbon was near. The king,
enraged at the name, protested he would rather die than surrender to the traitor. Pomperant therefore sent for Lannoi,
the viceroy of Naples, to whom Francis yielded his sword.
Such was the signal defeat that put an end to all French
conquests and claims in Italy.  Francis wrote the following
brief letter to his mother:-" All is lost, madam, save honor
and life." He was removed to the castle of Pizzighitone, till
the emperor's pleasure should be known.  Though humbled,
the king did not lose his equanimity: he even received Bourbon without giving vent to indignation; Pescara he welcomed
with admiration and es eem. The first act of the emperor




525.            TREATY WITH ENGLAND.                171
on learning the captivity of his rival, was to conceal his joy,
to forbid rejoicing, and to affect moderation. Charles's instinct was dissimulation.  His next act was to propose the
harshest terms to Francis,-the cession not only of Milan
and of Naples, but also of Burgundy. Francis, who flattered
himself that such a want of generosity proceeded from the
crafty counsellors of Charles rather than from himself, longed'or an interview with that prince.  The desire was eagerly
caught up by Lannoi, who was anxious to remove Francis
from Italy, where his guard was uncertain, and where either
Sforza, Bourbon, or Pescara, might conspire to liberate him
for their own advantage.  The headlong Francis gave in to
the snare. He himself furnished galleys for the voyage to
Spain, and his mandate prohibited the rest of the fleet from
attempting to intercept him. Arrived at Madrid, Francis
was still kept closely guarded. The interview, for which he
had made such efforts, was denied him; and many weeks
elapsed, without the emperor's deigning to visit his captive.
Such unexpected neglect cut the sanguine Francis to the
soul. His spirit sunk under his misfortune and defeat; and
a fever, occasioned by despondency, threatened to put an end
at once to the life of Francis and the advantages of Charles.
The latter at length gave to interest what he refused to generosity. He visited Francis, affected cordiality, and was profuse of the kindest promises.  Obvious as were the motives
and the insincerity of this friendship, the royal captive trusted
to it, and recovered his spirits and his health.
France in the mean time, though stunned and disordered
by the first news of the disaster of Pavia, was recovering its
composure and force. The duchess of Angouleme was regent;
the count de Vendome, cousin of the constable Bourbon, did
not take advantage of his being first prince of the blood, to
embroil the kingdom. The parliament, indeed, displeased
with the imperious character of the king, and angered on
account of the concordat and other causes, gave the regent
some trouble. But new allies flocked to France in her distress. The Italian states were. all ready to combine against
the emperor, whose power they now dreaded. Henry VIII.
of England instantly flung his support into the scale of the
discomfited Francis, and concluded a treaty with the regent,
stipulating that the kingdom  should on no account be dismembered. Large numbers of the people of Alsace had taken
advantage of the opportunity to rise and invade France, excited by that religious zeal which scorns restraint.  The
count of Guise mustered some forces, fell upon them in time,
and cut them to pieces. It was for this service that Francis
afterwards erected the county of Guise into a duchy-peerage,




172               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1526
-an honor heretofore granted solely to princes of the blood.
The parliament made great opposition to this novelty; but
the king was resolute in his friendship, and Guise became one
of the high noblesse of France, a duke and peer.
Negotiations for the liberation of the king proceeded, with
little prospect of success, at Madrid.  Bourbon had betaken
himself thither; his presence and his claims were no small
source of difficulties. The emperor had promised him his
sister Eleanora, queen-dowager of Portugal, in marriage; but
as Francis, to disappoint Bourbon, offered to marry this princess himself, the constable was obliged to forego the honor.
The marquis Pescara dying at this time, the emperor offered
the command of his Italian armies to Bourbon, who was urged
to accept of it, and was thus got rid of. Still the terms offered
to Francis were so harsh that lie could not accede to them.
His sister, the duchess of Alenqon, had come to tend him in
his illness and captivity. She was now about to return; and
Francis put into her hand his absolute resignation of the
kingdom, that he might be considered as dead, and no farther
efforts be made for his liberation. This alarmed the emperor,
who became willing to relax in some degree.  Still his demands were so exorbitant and unreasonable, that Francis at
length consented to extricate himself by a breach of faith,
and to swear to a treaty, the stipulations of which he was
determined not to perform.
With these opposite views,-grasping severity, that overreached itself, on the one side, and premeditated bad faith,
the almost compulsory resource of Francis, on the other,the treaty of Madrid was concluded. By it the king agreed
to give up Burgundy, to renounce all right to Milan and Naples, as well as to Flanders and Artois.  H-e was to be set at
liberty, and to espouse Eleanora of Portugal, the emperor's
sister. He was, moreover, to abandon his allies, the king of
Navarre, the dukes of Gueldres, of Wirtemberg, and De la
Marlk; and he was to re-establish Bourbon in all his property
and privileges.  Moreover, the two sons of Francis were to
remain as hostages for the performance of these conditions,
the kingf himself promising to return into captivity if they
were not fulfilled.  On the 14th of January, 1526, the treaty
was signed; Francis taking the precaution to protest secretly,
in the presence of his chancellor, against the validity of such
exactions.  Charles himself could not but mistrust the sincerity of Francis, and he even retained him piisoner a month
after the signature. The king's health again declined in consequence, and at length Charles, in a hurried and irresolute
way, gave orders for his final liberation.  H-e was led to the
river Bidassoa, which separs.es the countries: his sons, who




1526.              FRANCIS RELEASED.                 173
appeared on the opposite bank, were exchanged  jr him, and
Francis, mounting a horse of extreme swiftness, galloped
without drawing rein to St. Jean de Luz, and thence to
Bayonne.
Thus freed from captivity, on terms which, if fulfilled, must
ruin his kingdom, and if unfulfilled must stain his honor,
Francis, it might have been expected, would be instantly occupied in the duty of defending himself and retrieving his
affairs.  His first act on arriving at Bordeaux, however, was
to become enamored of mademoiselle d'Heilly, better known
as the duchess d'Etampes, who superseded the countess of
Chateaubriand in his affections, and held thenceforward the
greatest influence over the monarch.
The liberation of Francis was the signal for a general
league against the emperor. The Italian powers were ever
disposed to unite against the strongest.  Sforza had already
rebelled against Charles, and had been driven from Milan by
Pescara. All of them,-the pope, the Venetians, the Florentines,-now  formed an alliance with the king, on condition
that Sforza should remain in possession of Milan. A treaty
to this effect was signed at Cognac, but was kept secret for
some time. The states of Burgundy had assembled, to protest against the transfer of their province to the emperor.
The king, they said, had no right nor power to make such a
stipulation without their consent. When Lannoi, on the
part of Charles, demanded the cession of Burgundy, Francis
referred him to the answer of the states. The emperor, on
learning this evasion of the treaty, called on Francis, as a
man of honor, to redeem his word and return into captivity.
This was a trying moment for Francis, who piqued himself
on possessing all the chivalric virtues.  He could not openly
deride the credulity of Charles, as Louis XI. or Ferdinand
the Catholic would have done. He was perplexed, distressed,
and could only allege the necessity of the case; a plea which
by no means satisfied his nice notions of honor. He therefore
resolved on taking the advice of his subjects. Despotic as he
was, he felt in this case at least the necessity of having the
nation to participate his responsibility.  To call together the
states-general of the kingdom was obviously the natural step
in such a case. But no; Francis dreaded the very name of
that assembly, in which the vulgar tiers etat, or people, had
a voice.  The legists and judges of the parliament had for
some time taken upon them to represent the nation, in demurring to taxes and to edicts.  Francis, and his minister
Duprat, though not wholly contented with the parliament,
vet deemed that preferable to an assembly of burgesses. It
was resolved therefore between them, that the voice of the




174                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  1526
nation should now be taken, not in the good old states-general, but in what has since been called an assembly of notables
-one of the most unfortunate inventions or innovations that
despotic craft could have imagined.
This assembly of notables, or, as some historians will call
it, this bed of justice, was held in December, 1526. It consisted of prelates, nobles, courtiers, gentlemen, the parliament
of Paris, and the presidents of the provincial parliaments;
the only admixture of democracy being the provost of merchants and the four sheriffs of the city of Paris.*  Before
those Francis made a long discourse; entering at large into
the affairs of the kingdom, its finances and resources.  He
recounted the misfortunes of his captivity, and declared his
readiness to return to it, if his people thought that either their
interest or his honor so demanded. The reply of each class,
for all answered separately, was, that he was absolved from
an unjust and compulsory oath, against which he had previously protested, and the fulfilment of which the privileges
and welfare of his people alike forbade. They at the same
time accorded to him the liberty of raising two millions for
the ransom of his sons, assuming in this particular all the
rights of the states-general. Thus satisfied, Francis published
the general league against the emperor, denominated Holy,
because the pope was at its head. Not only the Italian states,
but the Swiss and the king of England acceded to it; so that
the reverses of Francis, if they had stripped him of territories,
rendered him much stronger in alliances than his rival. The
emperor, on his side, promised to Bourbon the investiture of
the Milanese, if he succeeded in expelling Sforza. This the
constable accomplished, subsisting his mercenary troops on
the unfortunate inhabitants of Milan-for of money Charles
had as notorious a lack as his grandsire Maximilian.  Milan
taken, pillaged, and wasted, how was Bourbon to support his
army-that army by which he lived 3 for since his exile the
prince had inhabited camps, and was averse to any more orderly way of life. He loved his soldiers, rapacious and licentioVs as they were; and was beloved by them, as a valiant
and successful leader, inclined to tolerate the license of the
freebooter. Since his treason, Bourbon had met everywhere
with insults and ingratitude from the French, the Spaniards,
the emperor, and his brother generals. This situation made
him misanthropic, and his character degenerated into that of
the reckless and ferocious corsair.  To obtain plunder for his
* We may judge of the independence of these only representatives of the
commons by the fact, that Francis caused his learned follower, Buddaus,
to be elected provost of the merchants (' the city of Paris.




.1527.                SACK OF JROME.                   175
army of lansquenets, in lieu of pay, became indispensable,
and he accordingly led them  south, menacing all the great
cities of the peninsula, and uncertain which he should attack.
Florence and Rome had both declared against the emperor:
Bourbon fixed upon the imperial city as the most glorious
prey, and accordingly marched thither his mercenary army.
Pope Clement was terrified at his approach, and used all his
country's artifices to avert the danger. It approached nevertheless, and Clement shut himself up in the castle of St. Angelo.  The army of Bourbon attacked Rome in the morning
of the 5th of May, 1527. Bourbon himself applied the first
scaling-ladder, and was in the act of mounting it, when the
nrst shot from the walls struck him and put an end to his disastrous career. His army passed over his body to the assault.
and Rome was carried by storm.  The pillage was general
so. merciless were the soldiery.  Not all the ravages of HIun
and Goth surpassed those of the army of the first prince in
Christendom.  The cruelty of the German soldiers was unequalled: they indulged in the most horrid extravagance of
debauch and impiety. For two months they remained masters
of the city; and the pontiff himself was finally obliged to
surrender himself a prisoner.
This new triumph of the emperor, over the head of the
church too, roused the zeal of Henry VIII. He already meditated a divorce from Catherine, Charles's aunt; and it therefore became his policy to befriend and protect the pope, whose
assistance he would chiefly require, against the emperor.
Wolsey was therefore dispatched to France; the treaty
between the crowns was renewed; and a joint army was
raised, to march into Italy under the command of Lautrec.
That general now compensated for his former ill success. He
made himself master of Genoa by the aid of Andrew Doria;
and took Pavia by assault,, abandoning it to pillage, in revenge
for the defeat which the French had suffered under its walls.
The conquest of Milan would have been easy; but as that
city was now to belong to Sforza, the French general turned
from it towards Rome, in order to procure the liberation of
the pope.  His approach effected this; the emperor became
less harsh in his terms, and Clement soon found himself free
at Orvieto.
It was about this time, towards the commencement of
1528, that challenges and defiances passed between Charles
and Francis.  The former, in his reply to the French envoy,
reproached the restored king with an infamous breach of
faith; and hinted that he was ready to support his charge as
a true knight, sword in hand.  Francis, indignant, sent a reply, that the emperor "lied in his throat;" and demanded a




176               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  1528.
rendezvous, or champ clos, for the duel; but notwithstanding
the choler of both parties, it never took plac. It is singular, that in this affair of the single combat the cold and politic
Charles seems to have been most in earnest, whilst the obstacles and delay were raised by the headlong and chivalric
Francis.
Lautrec in the mean time advanced to the conquest of
Naples.  He marched to the eastern coast, and soon reduced
the provinces bordering on the Adriatic.  The command of
Bourbon's army had devolved on Philibert, the last prince of
Orange of the house of Chalons, another French chief of
talents and influence, whom the petulance of Francis had
alienated from him and driven into exile.  With some diffi.
culty this prince withdrew his army from the spoils of Rome
to the defence of Naples. He was not strong enough to face
Lautrec in the field: the prince of Orange, therefore, and
Moncada the new  viceroy, shut themselves up in Naples,
where they were soon besieged by Lautrec. Andrew Doria,
a faithful partisan of France, held the sea with his Genoese
galleys, and blockaded the port. It was proposed to reduce
the town by famine. After some time Moncada, fitting out
all the galleys in port, made an attack on the Genoese, then
commanded by Philippino Doria, Andrew's nephew.  The
attempt failed: the Spaniards were beaten, Moncada slain,
and most of the captains taken; amongst others, the marquis
del Fuasto, and the two brothers Colonna. Naples thus became
in prospect an easy prey to Lautrec.  Its fall might have
brought the final submission of the kingdom-; but the same
blunder which Francis persevered in committing throughout
his whole reign, lost him this advantage, among so many
others.
Such was the fatal habit of the French king to disgust and
alienate his best and most attached friends. Doria, for example, like Trivulzio, was an Italian who united with a love
of his own country a firm attachment to the French.  His
exertions had but just torn Genoa from the emperor to give
it to Francis: he was now doing the very same by Naples,
when it pleased the French court to insult and disoblige him.
The prisoners he had won in action were taken from him, and
no allowance was made for their ransom. These insults to
himself Doria might have passed over;-of wrongs offered
to his country he was more sensible. The French undertook
to fortify Savona, and to raise it into a rival of Genoa. They
removed thither the trade in salt, one of the most lucrative
sources of the Genoese commerce. Doria expostulated; and
another admiral, Barbescenas, was sent to supersede him and
bring him prisoner to France.  When the admiral arrived.




1529.              PEACE OF CAMBRAY.                 177
Doria received him, saying " I know what brii.gs you hither.
the French vessels I deliver to you; the Genoese remain
under my command. Do the rest of your errand if you dare!"
The consequence of this blindness and ingratitude on the part
of Francis was soon seen; Genoa declared herself'fiee, and
allied herself with the emperor. The blockade of Naples by
sea was raised; and the influx of fresh troops and provisions
enabled the city to defy its besiegers. These, encamped under
a midsummer sun, ill supplied, and harassed, were soon attacked by pestilence. Lautrec their general died of it. The
marquis of Saluces, who succeeded him, raised the siege and
retired to Aversa, where he soon after surrendered to the
prince of Orange; and thus another unsuccessful Italian expedition was added to the long list of French disasters.
Another army led by the count of St. Pol into the north of
Italy met with as little success. Francis felt that he could
not re-establish his fortunes: he sickened of the love of glory
that had hitherto animated him, and showed himself willing
to treat for peace on any terms, provided the cession'of Burgundy was not insisted on. Charles by this time saw that the
nation would never consent to such a sacrifice; he therefore
waived this part of the treaty of Madrid. The negotiations
on both sides were carried on by the duchess of Angouleme
and Margaret of Austria.  The king gave up all his claims
to possessions in Italy, Milan, Naples, and even Asti, and
abandoned all his allies in that country; he renounced all
right of sovereignty over Flanders or Artois; he ceded Tournay and Arras; two millions were to be paid as ransom for
the young princes: the lands of the house of Bourbon were
to be restored to the heirs of that family (a stipulation, by
the by, never performed); and, finally, the treaty was to be
sealed by the marriage of Francis with Eleanora, the emperor's sister. This peace of Cambray, called also the " Lady's
Peace," was concluded in August, 1529: it was as glorious
for Charles, as it was disgraceful to France and her monarch.
The emperor remained supreme master of Italy: the pope
submitted, and obtained the re-establishment of the Medici
in Florence, with hereditary power; the Venetians, who said
that Cambray was destined to be their purgatory, were shorn
of their conquests. Charles forgave Sforza, -and left him
the duchy of Milan.  Henry VIII. reaped nothing save the
emperor's enmity by his interference: the English monarch
showed himself generous to Francis, by remitting to him, at
this moment, a large debt.  Thus was Europe pacified for
the time.
On a retrospect over more than half a century preceding,
we may contemplate a stirring and eventful period.  War




178               -ISTORY OF FRANCE.                1520
appears with all its varieties of achievements and fortunes.
Ambition, conquest, reverses, intrigues, the rise and fall of
families, the extension of territories and powers,-the most
prominent materials of history are there to be found; and yet
all this is but an idle pageant. Scarcely one of these mighty
events forms a link in the great chain of cause and effect.
They are inconsequential, merely a web woven to be again
unravelled, like Charles VIII.'s conquest of Italy, of which
not a vestige now remained to Francis.  Why is this'! because the selfish wills and views of individual monarchs had
become the sole grounds of policy, the sole motives of action.
Every thing like principle was extinguished. The people, the
aristocracy, the church, had each and all humbled themselves
in the dust beneath the monarch's foot. In them there is no
change or progress to record. The monarch alone, "playing
his fantastic tricks before high heaven," occupies the stage;
and the historian has but to handle the romancer's pen in
following the steps, detailing the motives, describing the
achievements and disasters of his hero. It is a relief to have
this selfishness, this monotonous operation of the same cause,
here interrupted by a great principle that began to agitate all
classes, and to give fresh life to the public mind in Europe.
This was the great maxim of religious freedom, the groundwork of the reformation.
The present limits do not allow space to discuss the supreme authority and infallibility usurped by the popes. The
most enlightened Romanists defend it more as an expediency
than as a right. In barbarous times it might have had its
utility, and might also have continued useful, had it been
exercised according to the common rules of humanity and
justice. Unfortunately no earthly throne was ever stained
with more crime than the papal chair, no judgment-seat gave
more iniquitous verdicts, no philosopher and logician united
ever uttered dogmas more absurd. It pleaded the same prescriptive right to rule the thoughts of men that kings put
forth to rule their actions; and both were allowed by man's
ignorance or inertness as long as such pretensions galled him
not. In all ages, however, were spirits found to call this at.
thority in question.  Around the northern shores of. the
Mediterranean especially, traditions of the greater freedom
of the primitive church were preserved. In Spain we find
the doctrine of the real presence denied almost as soon as it
was promulgated.  In Provence a sect existed for centuries
unnoticed, who held tenets anterior and opposed to those of
Rome. We have seen the creed of the unfortunate Albigenses extinguished in blood: England had its Lollards: the
higher classes of society, when they flung off their respe:t




i520.        HOSTILITY TO PAPAL DOMINION             179
for Rome, sunk into atheism and unbelief; for the accusations
against the Templars cannot be considered as totally void of
foundation: and it is recorded that Italy, uniting congenial
extremes, produced frequent instances of unbelief in high
places, even in the very chair of St. Peter, by the side of a
bigoted and credulous faith, which it is trite but not unjust to
call idolatry.
As civilization advanced, the moral power and authority
of the popes gradually declined. The long schism, and the
lives and characters of the pontiffs, with many analogous circumstances, contributed to this. And later popes, by endeavoring to supply the loss of moral power by the acquisition of
temporal authority, aggravated the growing disrespect for
the Holy See. At the beginning of the sixteenth century
France was, perhaps, the country most in advance with respect to views of reform. Though the fate of the Albigenses
warned men from absolute schism, still all classes showed a
distrust and enmity towards Rome.  The commons remonstrated against the pope's usurpations; the nobles and even
the national clergy joined in the sentiment; and the monarch,
instead of dreading excommunication, was never more popular
than in warring against the papal power. Louis XII., the
father of his people, had struck a medal to perpetuate his own
and the nation's abhorrence of papal bad faith. Its circumscription was, Perdam Babylonis nromen, "I will destroy the
very name of Babylon." It served as a motto afterwards for
Luther, who thus borrowed his anathema against Rome from
the Most Christian King.
The papal tree was then like the vine, it bore fruit only
at its extremities. While the pontiff was warring at home
with the Colonnas, and his imperial city itself was sacked by
Bourbon; while France refused her annates, and was jealous
even of the presence of a legate; the emissaries of Rome
were collecting tribute round the shores of the Baltic. A
monk who came to vend billets of salvation for crowns would
have been received in France with a shout of derision:,
Germany, on the contrary, he found a large market of credulity. Indulgences professing to remit all punishments in
this world and the next, and consequently efficient to save
the souls of the living or the dead, were disposed of in thousands. The avarice of the popes was still greater than the
credulity of the Germans. Martin Luther called in question
the efficacy of these indulgences; and his word, like a talisman, broke the spell of Romish supremacy.
To enter at large into this event and its causes belongs
to the historian of Germany. Luther published his celebrated
propositions in 1517. [n 1521 they were condemned bv the
12




180               IISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1528
Sorbonne, the preamble of whose censure declares, "that
flames and not reasoning ought to be employed against the
arrogance of Luther." And what is more singular, the jurists
of the parliament were equally zealous for punishing schism
by death. The new doctrines came to them blended with
democratic principles; and the parliament, now the court of
peers, and reconciled to the aristocracy with which it was
almost identified, would hear of no innovations. The king
was at first inclined to be tolerant. He was a patron and
lover of letters, and of learned men; and as the scholastic
theologians hated the revivers and cultivators of learning
equally with the Lutherans, and confounded both under the
same name, Francis resisted both the parliament and the
Sorbonne, and -rescued more than one victim from their hands.
While he was prisoner in Spain, however, the pope took an
opportunity of sending two vicars of the Holy See to pursue
heretics: and a certain Le Clerc, the first martyr of reform
in France, was burnt at Metz in 1525. Briconnet, bishop of
Meaux, was at the same time attacked by the parliament as
a favorer of heresy. He had attracted to his diocese the men
of his time most celebrated for learning. This was enough
to stamp the bishop and those whom he protected as heretics.
They were obliged to fly,-the celebrated Henry Etienne,
or Stephanus, was one of them,-and the good bishop himself
never could wipe off the stigma. Margaret, the king's sister,
duchess of Alencon, was early imbued with the principles of
the reformers. She afterwards became queen of Navarre by
her marriage with Henry d'Albret, and it was thus that her
descendant Henry IV. was bred a Protestant. Her influence
with the king, whom  she tended in his captivity, preserved
the clemency of his disposition, and even was said to have
rendered him not disinclined to the reformation. Zuinglius,
relying on the general opinion, dedicated one of his works to
the French monarch; and Francis for a long time defended
both Erasmus and his friend Berquin from the persecuting
Beda, the syndic of the Sorbonne.
The magnanimity and tolerance of Francis abandoned him
with his good fortune. The year 1528, in which he despaired
of recovering Italy or the advantages lost by the defeat of
Pavia, wrought a sensible change in his conduct. He became
despondent and careless in political matters, cruel and morose
in temper, more licentious, if possible, in his morals, and at
the same time ostensibly far more devout and more attentive
to the mere offices of religion. He erected images of the
Virgin; allowed poor Berquin, whom he had formerly defended, to be burned; and, notwithstanding the efforts of his




1528.          PROTESTANTS PERSECU'i ED.             181
sister, who herself was not secure from  accusations, he let
loose on his people the bloodhounds of persecution.
Francis, in these alternate moods of tolerance and intolerance, acted chiefly according to his humor. Charles never
lost sight of policy. The reformation had originated in his
dominions; and its adherents had taken advantage of his
absence and his occupation in wars to proceed in its establishment. He now turned his whole attention to the extinction
of heresy, not only to please the pope, who had of late become his ally, but to strengthen his own authority. The
empire, too, being elective, it was obvious that, should a
majority of princes become Protestants, the house of Austria
would necessarily be excluded. Charles showed himself at
first lenient. He tried fair means; those failed, and recourse
was had to severity. The Protestant doctrines were condemned. The princes professing them formed a league in
consequence, called the League of Snalkalde. The emperor
was obliged to temporize, and have recourse to tolerance again,
hoping to effect by means of a general council what his imperial authority dared not risk.
The league of Smalkalde naturally sought the alliance ot
Francis. The French monarch, though unprepared as yet for
war, did not refuse clandestine support to that powerful knot
of Protestants. In order to satisfy the pope and his conscience
for thus making the interests of the faith stoop to those of
policy, he covered the sin by burning a more than ordinary
number of heretics in Paris. He was amazed and angered
to find that, instead of quenching reform, he had by these
means multiplied and emboldened its adherents. WVhen the
passions are excited, a near or frequent view of death brings
about a contempt rather than a fear of that inevitable catastrophe. Execution or slaughter in the mass will always create
an indifference to the worst, amounting to heroism. Mingle
with this the leaven of religious enthusiasm, the pride of
suffering for conscience-sake, the strong hope of eternal life
and heavenly recompense, and you place at once man and his
faith above the power of despot or inquisitor. From this very
fact of our mental organization we may argue, that religious
opinions are uncontrollable. But centuries were to elapse ere
rulers could learn the expediency of toleration.
Amidst all these faults, Francis gave marks about this time
of that love and patronage of letters which forms the redeeming trait of his character:. He established the Royal or
Trilingulal College, as Marot calls it, from the three endowed
professorships of Hebrew, Creek, and Latin.  To found.this
institution was less difficult and praiseworthy than to defend;i which Francis did against the envy of the university and




182               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1530.
of the Sorbonne, whose bigots looked upon the knowledge of
Greek as a crime; upon that of Hebrew as a heresy worthy
of the stake. It was in dread of their persecution that Erasmus refused all the invitations and proffers of the king to
settle in France.  The latter was obliged to be contented
with Budteus as his chief counsellor and friend in these matters.
The same epoch is marked by several improvements in the
administration of justice, and by an attempt of Francis to remodel his army after the fashion of the ancients. He ordered
the formation of seven legions, one to be raised in each of the
great provinces of the kingdom, each legion to consist of
6000 men. But bodies of such unwieldy size were afterwards found unmanageable, and fell into disuse.
A lasting peace between such rivals as Charles and Francis was not to be expected. Even if the latter could have
confined himself to the pursuit of pleasure, to the internal
regulation of his kingdom, to the patronage of the arts and
letters, for which, after the peace of Cambray, he manifested
great regard; the spirit of Charles, ever restless in the cabinet, could not fail to have provoked him. At one time the
emperor sent him a summons, requiring his aid against the
Turks, and ending with the accusation that he had called
Solyman to invade Europe. Francis was now on the closest
terms of alliance with Henry VIII., who was bent on divorcing the emperor's aunt. The French king used all his influence with the pope to procure the necessary license for Henry,
but was still baffled by the influence of Charles. Clement
VII. was the potentate whose alliance was most warmly disputed by the rival sovereigns.  Both assailed the pontiff on a
pontiff's weak side, by the offer of aggrandizement to his
family. Charles proposed that Clement's niece, Catherine
de' Medici, should espouse Francis Sforza, duke of Milan;
by which means the Medici would necessarily be ever adverse to the claims of the French kings on Milan. Francis,
in opposition, offered his second son, Henry, duke of Orleans,
as a husband for Catherine; and Clement, elated by the
honor of an alliance with the royal house of France, exulted
at the proposal. The emperor, who knew the proud character of Francis, could not believe that he would sincerely permit his son to ally with such upstarts as the Medici; and this
incredulity neutralized the exertions that he might otherwise have made to obstruct the match.  It took place, however, at Marseilles, where Clement and Francis met to honor
the ceremonial, and to arrange the conditions of their future
friendship. One of these, there is no doubt, was the vigorous
prosecutmon and extirpation of heresy. Francis, however,




1533.         FRANCIS PREPARES FOR WAR.               183
reaped as usual little advantage from the negotiation. He
failed to obtain for Henry VIII. the dispensation required, and
that impatient monarch broke with the church in consequence.
Cleament himself died in the year following, and was succeeded by Paul III. of the house of Farnese.
An event soon after occurred, which was calculated to
rouse all the indignation of Francis. He had of course no
envoy at the petty court of Sforza, duke of Milan, on whom
he could scarcely look with aught save a jealous eye. A man
of fortune, named Merveille, settled at Milan, where his uncle was chancellor, aspired to the diplomatic dignity of ambassador of France. Ilis uncle, the Milanese chancellor, was
equally anxious on this point, and is said to have asked it as
a boon of the French king. It was granted. In that age of
intrigue, Francis could not refuse to have an agent who might
prove useful at the court of Milan. The character of ambassador was to be kept a secret; but Merveille, a vain man,
betrayed it in every way, and made the most ostentatious display. It came to the ears of the emperor, who instantly fulminated menaces against his creature, Sforza. The latter
endeavored to exculpate himself. Charles was too well informed, and persisted in his resentment. The duke then determined to satisfy him. Merveille had had a quarrel with
a Milanese nobleman, who was now urged to attack the ambassador and his suite.  The nobleman was killed; but, in
return Merveille was seized, imprisoned, and without further
trial or delay, decapitated. This it may be supposed fully
satisfied Charles. Francis felt the full atrocity of the insult.
HTe wrote instantly to all the powers of Europe, and to the
emperor. The latter replied by marrying his niece, the princess of Denmark, to Sforza, as if in reward for his zeal.
The French king from this moment determined upon war.
[te busied himself in raising money, and in levying and exercising troops. He forbore, however, to commence the attack, while the emperor was engaged in his expedition against
the infidels on the coast of Africa. It may be perceived that
Lhese rival monarchs were the first who paid attention to the
public mind in Europe, the first who propitiated popular opin.
on, at that time a novel means of support, and stood in awe
of its hostility.  Charles departed on this distant expedition
immediately after the insult offered to Francis in the affair
of' Merveille. By the enterprise the former hoped to raise
his character with the Christian community; and should
Francis, obeying his resentment, make an attack whilst he
was absent, there was the reproach at hand, that the French
king was always in league with the infidel, and armed in his
sqlport.  Francis, howeve'r, at this crisis fought Charles in




184               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1534
the emperor's own politic manner.  He himself remained
quiet, but by intrigue and the aid of money, he enabled the
duke of Wirtemberg to recover his duchy from  Charles's
brother, the king of the Romans.  The duke belonged to the
Protestant league, and thus the imperial party was doubly
weakened in Germany.
"It was the fate of Francis," says a Catholic writer, " to
befriend the enemies of his religion." He now aided the
Genevese in throwing off the yoke of the duke of Savoy, his
uncle, another friend and relative, whom Francis had contrived to alienate from him.  And it was the freedom  of
Geneva that spread far and wide through France the principles of reform. Those principles or tenets had hitherto been
confined in that kingdom to men of letters, whose studies and
consequent exercise of reason at once unveiled the absurdities of Rome, and to personages of influence, whose taste led
them to patronize learning.  Thus Meaux, under its enlightened bishop, was truly considered a nest of heresy. Thus
Stephanus, Ramus, and Marot were Protestants, as were also
the ladies of the court, who, from their sex, had more opportunities than men had of knowing the hypocrisy and corruption of the prelates of the church. The queen of Navarre,
the king's sister, Renee, duchess of Ferrara, his sister-in-law,
even the duchess d'Etampes, his mistress, were all openly declared for tolerance, and secretly inclined to the reformation.  When Marot, almost the first of French poets, was
obliged to quit France for his religious opinions, he took refuge at Ferrara with the duchess. At the same time, a young
deacon, whose name Cauvin was rendered in Latin Calvinus,
though a native of Noyon in Picardy, protected as well as
Marot by the queen of Navarre, sought the same place of
safety.
Men of letters and courtly dames, however, personages
naturally tranquil, if not timid, were very unfit propagators
of a new religion; although, perhaps, if ideas of reform had
taken birth in this class of society only, and thus gradually
spread lower, their aim might have been effected more gradually indeed, but far more generally.  In Germany, however,
owing to the state of society and government there, as well
as to the character of Luther, the appeal was at once made
to the popular mind. The class of the burgesses was in that
country most numerous and uncontrolled. The emperor was
absent.  Authority was divided among many princes, some
wise and patient enough to hear reason, others grasping at a
pretext for independence, none chained down by policy, as
Francis was, to a fixed line of orthodoxy.  The people weic




;534.             CRUELTY OF FRANCIS.                 185
there at liberty to listen; and the antipapal doctrines spread
with a rapidity that nothing could check.
In France, on the contrary, there was no Luther, nor any
scope for a Luther. Reform lurked, like a treasonable secret,
among a few trembling conspirators.  The difference of language prevented the spreading of the popular flame across
the Rhine.  And if in a few cases an individual or two
brought, or caught, or attempted to spread the contagion, the
crime was instantly expiated and silenced at the stake. As
soon, however, as a town, in which the French language was
spoken, and which was situated beyond French authority,
became free, as was the case with Geneva, a foyer, as the
French say, or a hearth, was found, where the fire might be
freely lit and kept burning, so as to send sparks and spread
combustion throughout the whole of the neighboring kingdom.
On a certain morning in October, 1534. placards appeared,
abusive of the mass and of the clergy.  The eucharist itself
was scouted; a fact which marks the opinions as coming from
Switzerland, where Zuinglian tenets prevailed.  These placards were affixed to the gates of the castle of Blois, where
the king was.  In a rage he departed for Paris.  Similar
placards immediately appeared on the pillars of the Louvre.
The insult awoke all the monarch's zeal: he ordered a solemn procession, in which he appeared in person. He himself
declared in public, that he would cut off his own arm, or slay
his very son, could he suspect either to be infected with heresy;
and he concluded the religious ceremony by burning six heretics, after a new and more cruel fashion than ordinary. On
an erect pole another was transversely balanced. To one
end the unfortunate heretic was tied, and a fire lighted under
him, into which and out of which he was alternately dipped
and raised, that his torments might be sufficiently acute and
prolonged.*
Francis, however, was more.hurt in his dignity than in his
religious faith, by the insult that had been offered. He had
been early warned of the popular and democratic nature of
reform, and he hence took a special dislike to the Zuinglian
or Swiss reformers. About the very time that the solemn
processions and burnings took place in Paris, Francis was inviting Melancthon to that capital, in order to devise some
reconciliation between the contending parties. No doubt this
was partly to conciliate the Protestant league, on whose alli* Francis issued a decree at this time, condemning those who concealed
heretics as themselves guilty of heresy, anld promising one-fourth of the
confiscated property of heretics to time informer.




186               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1534.
ance Francis depended. But from the letter, which tlre king
himself wrote to Melanethon so late as June, 1535, it is evident that his opposition to reform was moderate and enlightened; and that when he persecuted, it was more from heat
and haste of temper than from settled bigotry.
Whatever were the motives or principles of Francis, he
forwarded the cause of reform in France by aiding Geneva
to throw off the yoke of Savoy, certainly more than he could
check it by edicts or condemnations. Geneva gained its liberty about 1534. No sooner was it independent than the city
renounced its allegiance to Rome. Farel became its minister
of religion; and he appointed Calvin as his coadjutor.  A
squabble about the communion having disturbed that solemn
ceremony at Easter, both ministers were banished from the
town. But Calvin, who was equally eloquent with tongue
and with pen, was the very person needed by a rising sect
as a defender and a guide. He had courage, zeal, and learning. Educated at one time for the church, and at a later period for the law, he united the information requisite for both
professions.  He had travelled, and seen two courts; had
been the friend of the queen of Navarre and of the duchess
of Ferrara; and was much more fitted than Luther to be the
effective preacher of a new doctrine to civilized France. He
was soon recalled to Geneva, where he succeeded in establishing that form of religion which bears his name, and which
soon spread from thence over the greater part of his native
kingdom.
The enmity of the duke of Savoy proved a serious obstacle
to Francis.  He could no longer penetrate to Milan, without
subduing that duchy. In the summer of 1525, the admiral,
de Brion, attacked Savoy, and took several towns, while the
duke in vain summoned the emperor to his assistance. When
the French, however, had reached the summit of the Alpine
ridge, tidings were brought of the death of Francis Sforza.
The king was thus left without an object of vengeance. His
rights to Milan revived also: he had waived them but in favor
of Sforza, who had recently died without offspring. Francis,
indeed, did not claim the duchy for himself, but for his second
son, who, by his mother Claude, was descended from Louis
XII. and Valentine Visconti.  He hoped by putting forward
his second son, rather than thedauphin, to remove all jealousy
in the Italians, who would dislike to see Milan attacned to
the dominion of France.
An ambassador was sent to the emperor, claiming the investiture of Milan for Henry duke of Orleans. That prince,
without an idea of granting the request, hesitated to refuse
it altogether; and, practising the subterfuges, the forms, and




1535.          CHARLES INVADES FRANCE.               187
delays of the papal court, wasted months in negotiating,
whilst he was all the time arming and making preparations
of a hostile character. Francis, on his side, pushed the war
in Piedmont, took Turin, and encamped before Vercelli,
hesitating to break openly with the emperor, or invade his
dominions.  Charles was, in the mean time, cajoling the
French ambassadors, and leading them to hope for the grant
of Milan to the duke of Orleans. In expectation of this, they
attended him from Naples to Rome. There, in full consistory,
not only before the pope and cardinals, but in the presence of
the public-he would allow no one to be excluded-the emperor at once threw off dissimulation, and burst forth in furious reproaches against the French king. He recapitulated
the whole history of their differences, his victory, their treaties, the bad faith of Francis, and his tacit enmity ever since
he had been guilty of it. With little consistency, he at one
moment admitted the possibility of his granting Milan to the
duke of Angouleme, third son of the king; at the next he
gave full vent to his choler, and proposed to fight Francis in
single combat, in a boat, or on a bridge, with poniards, in
their shirts,-offering, at the same time, to stake the duchy
of Milan against that of Burgundy on the issue. Not content
with this, Charles descended to the meanest and most puerile
scolding:-" Had I soldiers and generals such as his, I would
go with my hands tied, and a rope round my neck, to ask
mercy of my antagonist."  Thus, for the second time, did
Charles show that the most politic and strictly controlled temper is apt to fall into the grossest extremes of indecorum and
violence, when passion is allowed to overpower habitual reserve.
The ambassadors of France and the ministers of Charles
himself were alike astonished at this unexpected gust of reproach. The latter endeavored to soften and excuse it; as
did Charles himself during a subsequent interview: and the
account of it must have been also much softened to Francis,
for that prince showed no susceptibility or passion, but replied
with coolness and moderation. The negotiations were continued, notwithstanding a scene so well calculated to put a
stop to them, but, as may be supposed, they proved ineffectual.
The causes of the previous dissimulation and sudden arrogance of Charles now became manifest.  The army of De
Leyva, that had hitherto been inferior to the French, was,
during these delays, augmented by reinforcements to 50,000
men. The admiral was obliged to retire before it. Charles
was puffed up with pride, and certain of success. He determined on invading France, which he had vague hopes of




188               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                153t
conquering. As to Provence, at which he immediately aimed,
he already looked upon that part of the kingdom as his.
At the same time, Charles exerted himself with his usuna
activity to blacken his rival in public opinion. In Italy he
accused him as the enemy of the church; in Germany he
aggravated his burning of Protestants, and with such success,
that Francis could not raise a single lansquenet in that country.  Switzerland, now in a great measure Protestant, was
no longer to be regarded as a school of mercenary soldiers;
and the French king, though he congratulated himself on his
own foresight in the establishment of national legions, had as
yet but little confidence in this untried infantry.
Francis therefore repressed his own natural impetuosity,
and determined not to hazard a battle. Piedmont was evacuated, except Turin and a few towns intrusted to the marquis
of Saluces. He may be enumerated among the early friends
of the king, who now proved faithless to him. In this instance historians do not discover the cause in the conduct of
Francis: the marquis, a believer in astrology, had reason to
conclude from the stars that the fortunes of France were on
the decline. He therefore deserted to the emperor, and betrayed, as far as lay in his power, the trust reposed in him.
Annebaut, however, still defended Turin. Contrary to the
advice of his ablest generals, Charles resolved to pursue his
conquests and march into France. Even the veteran De
Leyva flung himself from the chair, to which the gout confined him, and fell at the feet of his sovereign to dissuade
him; but in vain. That monarch was, in his own imagination, an emperor of ancient Rome, and, like the original
Caesar, marched to subdue Gaul. In order to preserve the
analogy, he drew up his troops on passing the Alps, and
harangued them after the forms exemplified in the Latin historians.
Montmorency was intrusted by Francis with the defence
of Provence.  That noble soldier, who had hitherto given
ample proofs of valor, now resolved to act the part of Fabius.
He formed a strong camp below Avignon, at the confluence
of the Rhine and the Durance.  He ordered all the open
country to be laid waste, and the smaller towns to be dismantled; Avignon itself, Aries, and Marseilles, being the
only places garrisoned and defended.  This order was executed most mercilessly; and the towns which resisted the
general's orders of devastation were stormed by their own
troops and destroyed. Even Aix, the capital of Provence,
was not spared. The emperor proceeded through the desolate country, harassed by the peasantry, but unable to meet
with the army of his enemy. Hle advanced to Marseilles and




1b36.       FRANCE SUCCESSFULLY DEFENDED.             189
to Aries, and showed an inclination to besiege those towns.
But he was repulsed from Marseilles; and his rear-guard,
commanded by the duke of Alva, was severely handled. At
Arles he had no better success.
Francis was in the mean time at Valence with a part of his
forces. Bad tidings were arriving day after day from the
north. The town of Guise had been taken. The imperialists
were making progress on the deserted frontier. A family
disaster occurred about the same time to depress Francis.
His eldest son, the dauphin, died, having taken a draught of
cold water when heated with a game at ball: poison, however, was loudly declared to be the cause; even the emperor
was accused of a crime that could bring him no advantage.
Catherine de' Medici, wife of the king's second son, who now
became dauphin, was also accused, with more plausibility,
but on no stronger proof
The success of Montmorency's plan of defence, and the
retreat of the emperor, brought consolation to Francis. The
duke of Orleans, now dauphin, begged permission to repair to
the camp at Avignon. When he arrived there, it required all
Montmorency's firmness to prevent the French youth with
the prince at their head from sallying out to give battle to
Charles. Francis himself came to Avignon some time afterwards. Charles was then in full rout, retreating along the
shores of the Mediterranean, his way strewn with dead bodies
(for pestilence had begun to thin his ranks), and also with
horses, arms, baggage, and all the wreck of a ruined army.
Francis could not take advantage of his enemy's discomfiture.
He was recalled to the north by the danger of Peronne, then
besieged by the count of Nassau, and defended by De la Mark,
mareschal de Fleuranges. The valor of the mareschal obliged
the enemy to raise the siege; but this gallant knight and soldier did not long survive: he died, leaving behind him those
chivalric memoirs of the reign of Francis which bear his
name. The emperor in the mean time continued his retreat:
he had lost the better part of his army, and De Leyva himself
amongst other generals. Charles instantly embarked for
Spain to conceal his mortification from the Italians, who had
eo lately witnessed his arrogance and heard his bravadoes.
Francis had not replied to the insolence and vituperation
of the emperor. The defence he made was indeed the best
answer. The next campaign, 1537, was opened or preceded
by a scene correspondent to the public invective of Charles in
the Roman consistory. The French king held a bed of justice, or solemn sitting of parliament, in which his advocate
allowing the cession that Francis had made of his suzerainty
over Flanders and Artois, argued and declared that such ces




190              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1537.
sion was null; that the monarch had not the power to forego
the rights of his crown, and that Charles was in consequence
the vassal of the king of France for those provinces. This
being established to the satisfaction of the court, Charles, as
a refractory and disobedient vassal, was summoned to appear
and answer for his conduct; and on his non-appearance, Fland3rs and Artois were declared forfeited to the crown,-an
empty mimicry of the forms by which in a ruder age Philip
Augustus thought fit to sanction those acquisitions, made by.he sword.
Francis attempted to follow this part of the example also,
and marched into Flanders, as if to fulfil the decree of his
court. He at first met with some success, and afterwards, by
a blunder of his own in impatiently raising his camp, lost the
advantage. His enemies laid siege to Therouenne. Montmorency and the dauphin were marching to its relief, when
the queen-dowager of Hungary, sister of the emperor and
regent of the Netherlands, proposed a truce. It was concluded in July, but was confined to the northern frontiers of
France. In Piedmont the interests of the king were forgotten
in the dissensions of the Italian generals, whom he found it
necessary to employ. One of these having been assailed by
a libel of the notorious Aretino, attributed it to the malignity
of the other; a challenge and dire feuds were the consequence.
The marquis of Saluces met the fate he merited for his
treachery. He was slain by a shot from a window of the
castle of Carmagnola.  The way in which his death was
avenged is characteristic of the marquis del Guasto, the
Spanish general. When the gallant garrison of Carmagnola
surrendered, the marquis expressed the greatest admiration
for their valor, especially, he added, for those who defended a
certain window. " For my part," exclaimed a soldier, "I was
there, and fired many a shot." Del Guasto ordered him instantly to be hanged up to the window. Those Italian wars altogether corrupted the high honor and generosity of the ancient
Spanish character. The Italians themselves, in consequence
of their unfixed and divided rule, their ever-changing allegiance, and the petty warfare of intrigue, incessant amongst
them, had deteriorated in character; and the Spaniards adopting the lax morals and contempt of honor which they here
found, and which their command of mercenary troops, as well
as their own subjection and service to an astute and politic
sovereign, increased, compounded their own pride with other
bad qualities, and formed a character as depraved as history
can well paint. When in course of time it imbibed the zeal
of religious persecutions, it became truly demoniacal. Pescara and Del Guasto united perfidyr with cruelty, but in




1538.     MEETI:G OF FRANCIS AND CHARLES.             191
both respects the name of Alva was destined soon to eclipse
theirs.
During the following year the truce was extended to Piedmont, each party guarding what they held. Charles, in addition to his ill success, his total want of funds, and the rapid
progress of the reformation among the German states, while
war prevented the emperor from checking or interfering with
them, was induced to treat by the alliance which Francis had
newly formed with the Turks. Those barbarians, flushed with
recent conquest, were the terror of eastern Europe; and
Hungary was already in their power. In these circumstances
the pope undertook to mediate a peace. Both sovereigns joined the pontiff at Nice. They refused to see each other, and
it was found impossible to fix the terms of a treaty; but a truce
for ten years was proclaimed in July, 1538. Charles, while
at Nice, was so full of suspicions, that he lodged on board his
galley. He now sailed in it for Barcelona, but being driven
by the wind upon the coast of Provence, he sent a messenger
to Francis, desiring an interview. A little reflection had
calmed his resentment and removed his mistrust; and it is
probable that Charles already began to meditate that passage
through France, which he soon afterwards made. A personal
interview with Francis could best inform him as to the prudence of such a step. The French king hastened at Charles's
invitation to meet and to welcome him. The monarchs met
at Aigues Mortes, visited each other, forgot their mutua.
quarrels, insults, challenges, and hate. Francis even consented to receive Andrew Doria, and the good-nature of the
monarch showed itself when he said, "Here we are united,
my brother the emperor and I. We must henceforth have the
same friends and the same enemies; we must equip together
s naval armament against the Turks, and you, Doria, shall
have the command."
On his return to Compiegne, Francis was taken dangerously ill, of the same malady, it is said, which afterwards occasioned his death. lie gradually recovered, however, from
this attack. Early in 1539, the people of Ghent applied to him,
offering to become his subjects. Those turbulent citizens were
meditating a revolt against the emperor. They complained
of certain war-taxes, that had nevertheless been voted by
their representatives in the states of Flanders, refused to pay
them, and defied the emperor's authority. Francis, it might
be thought, would have eagerly embraced such an opportunity to annoy his rival. Peace, however, had been just concluded, and Charles had evidently made many fair promises
at Aigues Mortes  besides, the chivalric Francis detested the
burgesses, as a class of whose turbulence and fickleness he




192                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1541
had full experience in the Genoese. In lieu, therefore, of encouraging the malcontents, he at once conveyed intelligence
of their intrigue to the emperor.
That prince, anxious to crush the rebellion at Ghent ere it
spread or gathered force, was perplexed how to get thithe'.
an embarrassment which strongly demonstrates the absurdity
of scattered dominion. If he went by sea, he feared the ports
of England and of Flanders, both hostile. By land, through
his own dominions, the Protestant states of Germany, equally
unfriendly to him, were to be traversed. Through France
lay the shortest path; and Charles, on receiving the amicable
warning of Francis, no longer hesitated. Resorting to his
usual bait, he sent to promise the investiture of Milan to the
king's second son, and at the same time asked permission to
pass through France: it was of course granted. The two
princes and Montmorency met the emperor at Bayonne.
Francis himself advanced as far as Chatelherault in Poitou
to receive him, and magnificent festivals celebrated their
entry into each town: that given at Paris excelled every
thing of the kind in splendor. The prisoners were everywhere liberated at the emperor's approach. In the midst of
all this gaiety, the mind of Charles was ill at ease. Francis
was counselled by many to detain the emperor till he fulfilled
his promise of granting Milan; at least till that promise was
solemnly renewed in writing. But Francis scorned to take
so base an advantage, and Montmorency was firm  in the
same honorable opinion.  The latter was now constable of
the kingdom, and possessed the chief influence with the
king. A soldier of high honor himself, he coincided with
his master in placing implicit reliance on the emperor's
word.
"Do you see that fair lady " said Francis, pointing out to
Charles the duchess d'Etampes: "she advises me not to let
you depart from Paris until you have revoked the treaty of
Madrid." The emperor was at first disconcerted, but rallied,
and replied coolly, "If the advice is good, it should be followed." Charles, nevertheless, contrived, on the following day,
to let fall a diamond ring at the feet of the duchess; and
when she picked it up, and proffered it to him, he obliged hei
to retain it.
Triboulet, the court fool of Francis, set down Charles on
his tablets as one of his own class, for risking to pass through
France. "But if I let him pass'l" observed Francis. "Then,'
said Triboulet, "I will rub out his name, and write yours in
its place, as the most egregious fool of any."
Francis acted the noble part, and refrained from pressing
for the Milanese till Charles had reached his own frontier;




1541.     MURDER OF PRANCIS'S AMBASSADORS.           193
and then the affair of Ghent was so pressing, that the emperor
had time to think of no other.  Montmorency was obliged to
return with. this excuse. Charles reaped all the benefit he
could expect from his speedy movements. The people of
Ghent were terrified, and submitted. It was supposed that tic
would spare his native city. He entered it, however, and on
his very birthday, with no feelings of clemency: twenty-six
of the ringleaders were put to death. All the ancient privileges and rights of Ghent were abrogated, and a fortress was
raised to keep the town in subjection. So much had municipal
and kingly power changed their relative situations in a little
more than a century!
No sooner was this triumph gained, than Charles threw off
the mask, and not only refused to keep his promise as to the
Milanese with Francis, but denied that he had ever made it.
He even endeavored to take a base advantage of the friendly
and cordial reception given to him by that monarch. Venice
had been, of all the powers of Italy, the staunch friend of
France. The marquis del Guasto now represented to the
Venetians the firm alliance between Charles and Francis, and
accordingly pressed them to join the emperor against the
Turks. But the wary Venetians put no faith in the reconciliation of the two monarchs, and were deaf to all the proffers
of Del Guasto. In order to counteract this intrigue, Francis
dispatched as ambassadors Fregose and Pincon, the former
to Venice, the latter to Constantinople; to explain to both
courts, that although the emperor had visited Paris, yet so far
was this from being a sign of strict alliance, that it had
rather, through the bad faith of Charles, produced a contrary
effect. Del Guasto resolved to intercept those ambassadors,
hoping to discover all the views of Francis in their dispatches:
he expected also to find, in that addressed -to the sultan, a
document which, if published, would disgrace Francis in the
eyes of Christian Europe. The ambassadors were accordingly
waylaid, by order of Del Guasto, as they descended the Po in
i bark, and murdered.
When Francis exclaimed against this fresh outrage, the
emperor justified Del Guasto for the deed. The former could
Snd no retribution but in declaring war, which accordingly
ensued in 1542. Before entering upon its details, let us cast
a glance at the intrigues and revolutions of the court. The
dauphin Henry, not content with his wife, Catherine de'Medici,
b)ad followed his father's example, in selecting and supporting
a mistress.  Catherine was young, accomplished, and not
unlovely. Henry preferred a lady (Diana of Poitiers) old
enough to be his mother. Great rivalry arose between the
king's mistress and the prince's mistress,-an exemplary and




194               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1542.
edifying emulation! The duchess d'Etampes slightingly observed, that she was only born on the day that Diana was
married; and the insult was not forgiven. The former felt
that at the death of Francis she must suffer the resentment
of his successor. She therefore sought to create a friend and
supporter in the duke of Orleans, next brother to the king;
and she intrigued and corresponded with the emperor, to procure for him an independent appanage either in Milan or in
the Low Countries.
These intrigues of the duchess d'Etampes, but partially
known to history, were no doubt one of the causes of the
tergiversation of the emperor respecting the so much debated
investiture. The court was thus broken into two parties; the
king, his mistress, De Brion, and others, on one side; the
dauphin, with Diana, supported by the constable Montmorency, on the other. Just before the war broke out, Montmorency
fell into disgrace, through the play of this intrigue.  Historians have attributed that misfortune to his advice of letting
Charles go free; but such a reason is improbable and insufficient.  He was exiled to Chantilly; a palace of which the
princely splendor has been attested by lord Herbert of Cherbury.
The temper of Francis became much soured at this time.
He was worn down by a malady, under which he pined without
hopes of cure; and in his treatment of friends, as well as of
religious dissidents, he approached somewhat to the savage
disposition of Henry VIII. Not only Montmorency was now
disgraced, but Chabot, admiral de Brion, an especial favorite,
and the friend of the duchess d'Etampes, was imprisoned for
a trifling crime. It seems as if a sense of impartiality actuated Francis to humble one of each party-a friend of either
mistress. Poor De Brion, more sensitive than Montmorency,
died under his disgrace, and Francis was afflicted at his fate.
The monarch granted him the vain reparation of a splendid
tomb. The vengeance of the duchess d'Etampes fell upon
Poyet the chancellor, who had been inveterate against De
Brion.  The king, however, whose conscience smote him for
having abstracted De Brion from his rightful judges in par
liament, and sent him before a commission, would not suffle
the same injustice to be done to Poyet.  He was tried for
malversation, and condemned to five years' imprisonment, and
a fine so considerable, that it stripped him of all his wealth.
The cardinal of Lorraine, brother of Guise, at the same time
lost his credit. Francis seemed to have conceived a disgust
against all his old friends. In his present stern and serious
mood, he could not tolerate the license and rapacity which he
had formerly encouraged.




1542.          BURTHENSOME TAXATION.                 195
The persons now intrusted by Francis with the management of his affairs were d'Annebaut, recently created admiral,
and the cardinal de Tournon. Their probity is unimpeached,
but their talents were unfortunately mediocre.  The war
languished in Piedmont; Conquests in Italy were considered
unlucky; and it was resolved to attack Roussillon in the south
and Luxembourg in the north. Charles, as he had subdued
Tunis at the commencement of the last war with France, now
ed an expedition against Algiers, either to show his contempi
for the king, or to prove his greater zeal in the cause of
Christianity.  It strikes me that both enterprises were owing
to a superstitious desire to earn, by defeating the infidels, a
store of merit and good fortune, to be expended in the war
with France. The expedition, however, proved unfortunate:
Charles lost his fleet, his artillery, and a great portion of
his army. His brother Ferdinand, king of the Romans, was
at the same time equally unsuccessful against the Turks in
Hungary.
Notwithstanding the low state to which the emperor's affairs were thus reduced, the French arms made little progress.
The dauphin commanded the expedition against Roussillon.
His brother, the duke of Orleans, supported by the duke de
Guise and the count d'Enghien, entered the province of
Luxembourg, which they overran and conquered. But hearing on a sudden that a battle was to be fought in the south,
the young prince abandoned the army, and weakened it in his
haste to participate in the triumphs of his brother. It was
a false report. The dauphin, instead of vanquishing, was
obliged to raise the siege of Perpignan, and Luxembourg was
reconquered by the imperialists. The brothers, du Bellay, one
of whom wrote the history of these wars, alone supported the
credit of the royal arms in Piedmont.
The effects of these great efforts of the king to sustain
the war against so potent an adversary became evident iii
the discontents of his people, produced by the pressure of
extraordinary taxes. The English reader cannot have failed
to remark how the power of levying taxes fell into the hands
of the sovereign. It was under Charles VII., the king whc
reconquered France from the English, that the taille became
perpetual, as a war-tax. The gabelle, an impost on salt, the
aides, a kind of excise, grew in the same manner to be under
the control of the king, who raised them at pleasure. Francis increased all these taxes to an extent which it is difficult
to ascertain: and this revenue not meeting his expenses, he
borrowed large sums, and sold many of the domains of the
crown. The gabelle, or salt-tax, was, however, what pressed
mrost bhcavily on the people; not only by reason of the dear13




196              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1543.
ness of that necessary of life, but also through the vexations
practised by the collectors and overseers, a tribe ever hateful
to the people. The provinces in which salt was raised had
hitherto enjoyed various advantages: tney exported it dutyfree to other countries; and as the tax was raised on the sale,
not on the production of the commodity, the inhabitants of
those parts could easily secure a store sufficient for their own
consumption without paying the duty. Francis, however,
ordered that the tax should be levied at the raising or making
of the salt. The sufferers were indignant; and those of Rochelle, who considered this as an infiingement of their privileges, rebelled. Francis did not lose a moment in marching
to put down this insurrection ere it gained ground. He appeared with an army of lansquenets before Rochelle, and the
town submitted. The king was as that time engaged in
rivalry with the emperor Charles, who had drawn down upon
himself the condemnation of Europe by his harsh treatment
of the people of Ghent. Francis, therefore, obedient to this
policy, as well as to the natural generosity of his temper,
pardoned the insurgents of Rochelle. " Speak no more of
revolt," said he, to the humbled and penitent citizens: "forget it, as I do. I see here none but my children; in me you
behold a father. My rival may spill the blood of his unfortunate subjects of Ghent: it is a pleasure worthy of him. My
delight, on the contrary, is to recover the hearts of my subjects." Here was one signal benefit produced by the progress
of civilization, and the communication of events throughout
Europe. The cruelty, and consequent unpopularity of one
monarch, served as a beacon to warn the other, and direct him
into the path of clemency.
The campaign of 1543 brought Francis another enemy and
another ally:-the enemy was Henry VIII., whose natural
hatred to France rose in proportion as its monarch proved
victorious. The two kings had not been friends since the
affair of Catherine's divorce: but the receipt of a pension
from France, under the treaty of 1525, as well as the mortal
quarrel between Henry and the emperor, preserved the former from openly breaking with Francis. Nevertheless the
marriage of James king of Scotland with a princess of France
was felt sorely by Henry's jealous temper. When this princess died, James was allowed to espouse another lady of royal
blood, Mary of Lorraine. This was a new grievance. The
Tudors, at least Henry VIII. and his daughter Elizabeth,
were peculiarly jealous of any one who sought the happiness
of marriage; such an event always caused them a pang.
When a rival or an enemy met with good fortune in a match,
their envy was sure to vent itself in hostility. Henry could




1543.    THE ENGLISH JOIN THE IMPERIALISTS.         197
not forgive Francis his alliance with Scotland, and his patronage of its young king; and when the pension to England
ceased to be paid, owing to the necessities of the French
monarch, another tie of interest was converted into a hostile claim. Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn were both
dead by this time, and thus were removed the obstacles to
an alliance between Henry and the emperor. It was concluded. They agreed to announce it to Francis, by summoning
him, in the face of Europe, to give up his odious alliance with
the Turk.
Ten thousand English came to swell the army of the emperor in Flanders. With these he crushed the duke of Cleves,
who had espoused the side of Francis, and who was to have
received in marriage the hand of Jeanne d'Albret, heiress of
the crown of Navarre. Francis was either inactive or unfortunate in the support of his friend: the duke was obliged
to make the most humble submissions. Charles, after this,
advanced and formed the siege of Landrecies, which was
stubbornly defended. Francis approached with an army: he
was no longer anxious to give battle with the impetuosity of
youth; and, after throwing succors into Landrecies, he retreated. Charles raised the siege; but, in return, succeeded
in surprising the more important town of Cambray.
It will be recollected that the ambassadors dispatched by
Francis to Venice and to Constantinople, to explain the hollowness of his reconciliation with the emperor, were intercepted, and slain by Del Guasto. A messenger was now selected of the most enterprising character, a man calculated
to perform the perilous journey and accomplish the difficult
negotiation. He was an adventurer whom we shall hereafter
have occasion to recognize as the baron de la Garde. He
reached the court of Solyman: after enduring much indignity, he obtained a hearing; exculpated his master; and induced Solyman to dispatch Barbarossa to the coast of Provence. There a junction was formed between the French and
Turkish fleets; and Nice was besieged by them in concert;
but even that insignificant town they failed to take. Francis
incurred the dishonor of an alliance with the infidels, without reaping any advantage.  Solyman committed some vain
and not triumphant ravages as he retreated.
The army in Piedmont was now intrusted by Francis to
the young count d'Enghien: he was brother to Antoine de
Bourbon duke de Vend6me, afterwards, by his marriage with
Jeanne d'Albret, king of Navarre. The count was an active
commander, and he continued his operations against Del
Guasto, the imperialist general, during the whole winter.
In the spring of 1544, he besieged Carignano. Del Guasto,




198              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1544.
aware that the French had orders not to fight, marched to its
relief.  The count instantly dispatched Montluc, afterwards
mareschal, to court, to obtain the permission of Francis tc
offer battle. The council decided against risking it. Montluc,
who was present, showed his impatience at their timidity by
all kinds of contortions. The king was amused, and ordered
him to speak. The Gascon (Montluc was of Gascony) did so,
with a peculiarity of accent and gesture that amused his
hearers, and that did not mar his eloquence: he warmly recommended a battle; and Francis, caught by an enthusiasm
once so natural to himself, was won by Montluc's zeal, and,
despite the dissuasions of his council, sent D'Enghien permission to fight. No sooner was this known, than the court
became a desert; every young lord and courtier set out post
to Piedmont to share in the perils and the glory of the action.
The battle was fought at Cerisoles on the 14th of April.
The imperialists far outnumbered the French; but mercenaries composed the greater part of the strength of either army.
All the forenoon was spent in the firing of the arquebuss, in
manceuvres, and in vain attempts of either army to turn and
take its antagonist in flank. Neither army wished to advance, as each was apprehensive that by so doing its artillery
would be in a measure masked, while itself would be fully
exposed to the guns of the enemy. This evinces the immobility of artillery in those days, and the little skill with which
it was managed. The French, most impatient of the contending parties, ordered the Swiss of their centre to advance.
They were discouraged by the fire of the artillery; and the
lansquenets, opposed to them in superior numbers, repulsed
them. To the left of the Swiss were posted, first the French
infantry, and beyond them light troops, either Italians or men
of Gruyere. WVhen the centre wavered, the count led the
French infantry to its support. The Italians and the men of
Gruyere, thus abandoned, turned and fled. And d'Enghien,
on looking round, seeing himself deseited, and the enemies
advancing in his flank, was in despair. He placed his sword
so that he might fall and die upon it. On reflection, he
thought it better to perish by the hand of the enemy: collecting, therefore, a hundred straggling horse, he charged
the lansquenets with that desperation which the search of
death inspires; when lo! before his furious charge, several
times repeated, the lansquenets shrunk, became disordered,
and at last fled. The fact was, that the rest of the French
line had been victorious, and an elevation of the ground had
concealed their advantage from d'Enghien. This success was
in a great manner owing to an order given in the beginning
of the day by Del Guasto to the prince of Salerno, to keep




1544.             BATTLE OF CERISOLES.              199
back, and not to engage his Italians, in whom the command.
ers had little confidence. Del Guasto had lost his presence
of mind, and forgot to issue any later order; through which
neglect a great portion of his army remained inactive. Indeed, the prince of Salerno withdrew his troops from the field
without having struck a blow. Del Guasto fled early, and
displayed a considerable lack of courage, although Paulus
Jovius, of whom he is the hero, represents him as a vefy
Mars. Del Guasto presents the example of a general, able
and ingenious in planning and conducting a campaign, but
incapable of cool discernment in the heat of action.  Since
the day of Marignano, victory had been a stranger to the
French; and the count d'Enghien reaped a harvest of glory
by the achievement. Unfortunately the young prince did not
live to fulfil the hopes entertained of him. In a year or two
afterwards, whilst at la Roche-Guyon, supporting a mocksiege against the dauphin and other young men of the court,
a box, inadvertently flung from the window, fell upon him
and caused his death.
Francis was assailed on so many points by so many and
such powerful foes, that he could not take advantage of the
victory of Cerisoles. Twelve thousand men were instantly
drawn from the army of d'Enghien, to reinforce those of the
north, and no progress was made towards Milan. The emperor and Henry VIII. had agreed, each to lead an army, the
one through Champagne, the other through Picardy, straight
to Paris, without staying to make conquests or form sieges.
The first part of the plan was performed, not the latter.
Charles invested St. Dizier, and Henry besieged Boulogne.
Had they executed their original intention, they might have
dictated peace to Francis in his capital. The emperor at
length perceived his mistake. He marched towards the
centre of the kingdom, summoning Henry to do the same.
The latter showed no inclination to second him, and still remained before Boulogne, of which he made himself master.
The emperor had gained possession of St. Dizier by artifice; for he sent a false order under the seal of the duke of
Guise to the commander of the town, ordering him to surrender. Some historians assert that it was the duchess
d']Etampes that furnished this means of victory to the emperor, from jealousy to the dauphin. The king, confined to his
chamber by illness, was in despair at the capture of St. Dizier.
"Ah! my God," he exclaimed, "how dearly do you sell me
my kingdom! Get you to church," he continued, addressing
his sister the queen of Navarre, " and there utter for me my
prayer to God, that since it is his will to favor the emperor.
J may at least be spared the grief of seeing him encamped




200               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1544,
under the walls of my capital." The dauphin was charged
with the defence of Champagne.  He took the opportunity
-f beseeching his father to pardon Montmorency; observing,
that the defender of Provence could best defend Champagne.
The request angered, without persuading, the king. The
emperor advanced as far as the Marne, which it was his object to cross. He succeeded in seizing the magazines of
J'pernay and Chateau Thierry, owing, it is again asserted, to
information derived from the duchess d'Etampes. Paris was
in alarm. The king rode about, and endeavored to reassure
the citizens. " The Lord defend you from fear, my children,"
said he; " I will defend you from the enemy."
The emperor's sudden spirit of enterprise had in the mean
time given way to his usual habits of caution and delay. Instead of pushing across the Marne, fighting and advancing
upon Paris, he retired in search of provisions. The heart of
Charles having failed him, and the opportunity being at the
same time lost, negotiations were willingly entered into by
ooth monarchs.  They sent a dispatch to Henry, then on the
point of capturing Boulogne, but he disdainfully refused to
join in an accommodation. Charles and Francis, therefore,
concluded a separate treaty at Crespy, in September, 1544.
Its chief stipulation was, that the duke of Orleans should espouse either the daughter or the niece of the emperor, who
in return should give as a dowry either the Milanese or the
Low Countries.  A peace thus terminating to the advantage
of the duke of Orleans alone, plainly denotes the intrigues
and interests of the duchess d'Etampes, who sought, in the
king's second son, a support against the enmity of the dauphin.
The delay, however, and the loose manner in which the fulfilment of the terms was secured, showed that the emperor
was not sincere; and at the same time that the king was not
a dupe. One desired to retire with impunity; the other was
glad to allow this. The dauphin protested strongly against
this treaty, of which he did not perceive the hollowness.
Between the English, who held Boulogne, and the French,
the war still continued. Francis, for the first time, made his
greatest efforts on a new element.  Ordering his Mediter'ranean galleys to join those of the western ports at Havre, he
collected a fleet of 136 ships: the king went with his court
to behold it put to sea, and gave a banquet on board the
largest vessel, one of 800 tons, which accidentally took fire,
and was burned ere it quitted the harbor. Annebaut, who,
as admiral, commanded the fleet, sailed for the Isle of Wight.
The English fleet, amounting to about sixty sail, came out
from Portsmouth to cannonade, but avoided an action with
such a superior force. The French landed and insulted the




1545.         PERSECUTION OF THE VAUDOIS.            201
English, in order to provoke them to come out; but failing il
this purpose, the fleet sailed back to its own shores. By land
tney endeavored to retake Boulogne, but with no better success. Ii one of the skirmishes near this town, the comte
d'Aumale was struck in the face with a javelin, the whole
head of which entered between his mouth and nose. His.ecovery appeared a miracle to the chirurgeons of that day.
H-is son, afterwards duke of Guise, was signalized with the
appellation of Le Balafre, for a far more trifling scar. Peace
was the result of this campaign. Francis agreed to continue
to Henry the usual yearly tribute, and an additional sum was
to be paid for Boulogne, which was to be restored to the
French after the lapse of eight years.
The opinions of the reformers in the mean tinme though
they made progress in France, were not openly avowed.
Francis was a popular prince: his clemency at Rochelle,
joined to his general character and personal qualities, made
him beloved; and the strong feeling of loyalty, which in Germany promoted religion, in France kept the people from dissenting openly from the faith of the monarch. A few heretics
were burned from time to time, to grace a festival, or display
the zeal of the monarch; but wholesale persecution was as
yet unknown. Unfortunately the reign of Francis was at this
period stained with the blood of a whole province, wantonly
and unjustly spilled. The reader cannot have forgotten the
crusades against the Albigenses, those primitive reformers of
the thirteenth century. Great as had been the slaughter,
they were not all extinct; and, under the name of Vaudois,
the sect subsisted from that day chiefly in the provinces eastward of the Rhone, where the persecution had been little felt.
Forgotten by the inquisitors of the church, that simple people
had preserved in their remote valleys their original hatred of
Rome, and denial of its most absurd doctrines. They now
learned with delight, that a large portion of Europe had
awakened to opinions somewhat similar. They inquired for
guides, or else missionaries sought them out. Farel visited
them from Geneva: they conceded, in deference to his preaching, whatever little differences existed between their primitive belief and the modern ideas of reform, and thus became
united to the great body of Protestantism.
This communication and religious alliance with foreigners
awakened the zeal of the parliament of Aix, the capital of
Provence. That tribunal, in consequence, condemned the
leaders to be burned, the population to be banished, and the
town of Merindol, their principal hold, to be destroyed. This
decree of the year 1540 was not put into effect. The learned
Sardolet, vwho iad a diocese in the neighborhood, aa.d Dubellay,




202                HISTORY OF FRANCE                  1547
interfered with Francis and stayed the execution. Five years
elapsed, and the cardinal de Tournon was in power, a narrowminded bigot: he pressed the king to, what he considered,
the pious and politic act of rooting out heresy; and Francis,
in a moment of zeal, dispatched the order. The parliament
of Aix were not tardy in fulfilling it.  The president, the
baron d'Oppede, himself undertook to direct the massacre.
The baron de la Garde, the adventurer so successful in his
mission to Constantinople, commanded the troops chosen to
execute d'Oppede's bidding.  They marched to the banks of
the Durance, and the work of devastation began; the villages
were everywhere set on fire, and the flying population massacred.  Vlerindol was destroyed.  Cabrieres made some resistance: but those who combated and those who yielded met
with the same inexorable fate. After the conquest, d'Oppede
and his assistant set about murdering the captives. They
varied the monotony of their horrid task by strangling some,
and shutting up others in barns, which were set fire to and
burned.  Women were not more spared than men.  With
forks and halberds all were thrust back into the flames who
attempted to escape. Three hundred were hanged, and about
twice that number spared to man the galleys. Attempts were
made to awaken Francis to a sense of these atrocities, but in
vain. The conduct of d'Oppede was approved. De Thou indeed says, that Francis, tormented on his death-bed by the
recollection, recommended his successor to examine into the
conduct of the president, and de la Garde. It was the subject of a prolonged inquiry in the subsequent reign; but a
short imprisonment was the only castigation inflicted on the
perpetrators.
About the period of this atrocious massacre, Francis lost
his second son, the duke of Orleans, who died of a pestilential
fever.  He was a youth of gay temper and fascinating manners; consequently, a favorite with his father. It was to him
that the duchy of Milan, or the Low Countries, had been
promised in dowry with an Austrian princess at the treaty of
Crespy. His death almost annulled that treaty. Francis dispatched an embassy to Charles on the occasion, making some
fresh demands. "If the king will leave me in peace," repined
the emperor, then harassed by the league of the Protestant
princes, "I will leave him so."
In the beginning of the year 1547, Francis received tidings
of the death of Henry VIII., for whom he had always entertained a friendship, though the jealous temper of Henry.prevented him from returning it. The French king ordered a
magnificent mass to be said for the deceased monarch, although he had died out of the pale of the church.  He felt




1547.          CHARACTER OF FRANCIS I.               203
Henry's death to be the forerunner of his own, which now
advanced rapidly. Francis tried, like Louis XI., to shun his
fate, or at least to dissipate his chagrin, by frequent change
of scene, and by the amusement of the chase. Whilst he was
returning to St. Germain, his malady suddenly grew worse at
Rambouillet, where he died on the 31st day of March, 1547.
His last counsel to his son was, to lighten the burden of taxes,
and to beware of the ambition of the Guises.
Francis I. was remarkable for a large and noble person.
The qualities of his mind corresponded. He was brave,
generous, confident, splendid in his taste, gallant in his pleasures.  tie was warm-hearted; his devotedness as a son, his
attachment as a friend, partook of tenderness. The same
frank and undissembling temper that bound to him those he
oved, made speedy enemies of those whom he disliked. Albhough prodigal and unfortunate as well as despotic, he was
still a popular king; a distinction which he owed to the new
spring of loyalty that now actuated men's minds, as well as
to his own personal character, of which the failings were as
amiable as the virtues. He was a fair type of his age, the ideal
of its perfection. He forms the point and marks the epoch
in which chivalry and gentility meet, the former subsiding
gradually into the latter.
Some writers accuse Francis of being an aristocratic king;
whilst others, his own contemporaries, accuse him of sacrificing the aristocracy to favoritism. The fact is, Francis was
opposed to an oligarchy, or to a few high, powerful chiefs.
Past history, as well as the revolt of Bourbon, gave him a
natural dislike to this kind of cabal, for which reason he
exiled Montmorency, as eager to grasp at power, and bade
his son to beware of the Guises. But the institution of a wide
aristocracy was what Francis loved,-the class of noble as
distinguished from that'of base. It was he who drew the
strong line between these castes, less marked before, on account of the gradations which rank and birth filled from the
lowest to the highest ranks. But Francis made it a maxim,
that all nobles were equal; he called himself "the first
gentleman of France;" and whilst his pride degraded the
peasant and artisan far below him, his generosity raised to
his own level all those of gentle birth in his dominions.  It
was owing to this mode of viewing and of classing the French
that the nation soon became divided into two castes; the one
apparently that of conquerors, the other that of the conquer
ed. One represents the Franks, the other the Gauls; and
erudition lent its weight to sanction, by a false theory, that
pernicious division, the result of royal whim and aristocratic
arrogance.




201               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1547
The formation of a court, begun by Anne of Britany, but
accomplished by Francis, had a great share in producing and
strengthening this state of things. Men may form opinions,
but it is women who foster them into prejudice. The court
became a school of manners, of morals, and political conduct,
with immense influence over the nation; but with still greater
over the monarch, whose personal character and feelings
were speedily merged in that of the little world around
him. It soon matured a scheme of moral, as well as of
political principle, for itself, such as it found to be convenient.
The political code we find in Machiavel; the moral is the
worst and most corrupted state of Catholicism.'Prelates
thronged at court. It counted no less than twelve cardinals at
the death of Francis, of which number seven were instantly
got rid of by his successor. Those, as is related of the Jesuits, adopted the habits and morals of their sphere, were
amongst the most gallant and corrupted, and accordingly
were allowed to direct the conscience of that high-born race
whose licentiousness they countenanced and absolved. While
the church was chicaning Henry upon his marriages, Francis
was in the full career of licentiousness, as an orthodox and
most Christian king.
To such a court, the very name of reform was distasteful.
Not but that reform itself was made subservient, as well as
Catholicism, to the lusts and passions of mankind, but the
passions of Francis had full play under the wing of the orthodox church. His interests, too, after the concordat had given
him the nomination of benefices, agreed with those of that
church. And what was more important, the French nobility
had the same interests: for the right of election, sanctioned
by Calvinism, would take away those rich ecclesiastical
offices now reserved exclusively for them. Had Lutheranism
made its way into France, as it had into England, it might
have been tolerated; but Calvinism roused at once the king,
the court, the prelates, nobles, and legists. The object of
Francis in inviting Melancthon was perhaps to inoculate his
subjects with a milder species of heresy, the distemper in one
shape or other being unavoidable.  But Geneva succeeded
in communicating its religious tenets to a great portion of the
French people.
Francis has not been unjustly accused of despotic propensities. The royal person and authority acquired a kind of
sacro-sanctity in his reign; and yet the general progress of
opinion, formed upon a mixture of romance and classic reading, and taking consistency from  the facilities which the
institution of a court afforded to the noble class for communicating and comparing their peculiar ideas, is more the cause




547.       LITERATURE AND THE FINE ARTS.            205
of this than any policy or conduct of the monarch.  " Dc
what we will," said Louis XII., in his declining days, "that
big fellow Francis will spoil all." Yet it is difficult to say
what he did spoil. He certainly refrained fiom calling the
states together; yet Louis had but once adopted that measure:
and Francis certainly did no more than follow the steps of
his predecessor in the mode of levying taxes, however he
might surpass him in the measure.  The people were not
discontented with Francis; unfortunately they did not regret
the states.  It was to sedition, and to a lack of authority,
that most of the past divisions and disasters of France were
to be ascribed: and the people congratulated themselves
upon having a powerful king, who had humbled the chiefs of
the aristocracy, and who secured to all an equal distribution
of justice. Unfortunately, too, the tide of the time ran
towards despotic power in a monarch, and the monarch
went with this tide. But I cannot look upon Francis as
selfishly or designedly culpable of undermining the liberties
of France.
The glory of the monarch's reign is his patronage of letters and of the fine arts. Primaticcio, under whose direction
so many noble edifices sprung up in France, was an architect
whom his liberality had enticed from Italy; and Leonardo da
Vinci, more famed, though less prolific, as a painter, won
from the same country by Francis, reflects honor on his patronage and taste. Of literature, unfortunately for the fame
of the munificent king, the rude foundations were yet to be
laid; and these he applied himself to establish, in endowing
colleges, in opening schools, in inviting men of learning to
his capital, and rewarding them. As yet there were not
materials, there existed not that refinement of tongue, that
maturity of taste, requisite for the production of great works.
Still Rabelais indulged his coarse wit with impunity, being
in this respect more fortunate than Marot.  This first of the
French poets early espoused the principles of Calvin, and
materially helped to disseminate them by his translation of
the Psalms, which soon became the favorite chant of the
people.  To sing them, however, was considered a crime
worthy of the stake; and Marot was obliged to save himself
frcm that punishment by voluntary exile.




206               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                  1547
CHAP. VII:
1547-1559.
HENRY THE SECOND.
HENRY II. was thirty years of age when he ascended tile
throne.  He resembled his father in size and strength, but
had not the same graces of person; neither had he the taste,
the warmth, the talents, or the amiability of Francis. Still
he had commanded armies without disrepute, and was violently attached to those rude and warlike exercises which
had been a pastime of his father.  Although passionless, he
had thouoht fit to follow the example of Francis in selecting
a mistress. This was Diana of Poitiers, soon after created
duchess of Valentinois, a dame who was of an age to be his
mother, and who really exercised a kind of maternal authority
over him. Francis, having observed with pain his son's
dullness and uncouthness, had rejoiced at seeing him devote
himself to an accomplished woman, who might form  his
manners and awaken his taste.  The charms of Diana, however, were productive of little effect upon Henry, save that
of establishing her own influence.  She had, even in the
lifetime of the late monarch, engaged Henry in a kind of
unmeaning rivalry or hostility towards the court, or rather
towards the duchess d'Etampes. The existence of these parties has been noticed, and the constable Montmorency owed
his long disgrace in part to their intrigues.
The first act of the new king was to summon Montmorency
to court and to re-establish him in authority; which, however,
he shared with the Guises, and with the mareschal Saint Andre, the playmate of Henry, and the son of his governor.
The duchess d'Etampes was deprived of all the rich possessions that she owed to the favor of the late king; and her
husband was even urged to institute a law-suit against her,
in which Henry himself had the meanness to appear as a witness. This proceeded from the triumphant rivalry of Diana.
The severe spirit of Montmorency showed itself in the execution of de Coucy, and of the mareschal du Biez, for not
having defended Boulogne with more vigor. Montmorency
affected the.character of Cato the Censor: -it was the fashion
to adopt classic heroes as models;-hence he gave full scope
to a rude and merciless temper. Jealous of the influence of
prelates and cardinals, he banished them  from  court, and
would willingly have passed the same decree against the




1547.             POLICY OF HENRY II.                 207
ladies who thronged thither; but Diana of Poitiers was not
to be resisted, and the constable, instead of opposing, rather
courted her favor. Another point of Montmorency's character,
for which, too, he might' plead the example of his Roman
model, should not be omitted,-this was avarice. He labored
and intrigued to add to his rich domains, and terrified the
ount de Chateaubriand so as to compel that nobleman to beueath his possessions to the Montmorencies. Thus, as Francis robbed the unfortunate man of his wife, the minister of
Francis robbed him  of his heritage. The Guises acted a
different part from that of Montmorency: they were, indeed,
equally urgent for place end pension, but then their purpose
was to lavish, not to hoard.  They were generous, and expended largely in gaining fiiends and partisans; as if, from
the commencement, they had been actuated by the ambition
of raising their family to the first rank in the state. When
these greedy and contending chiefs of parties came to divide
at once the gifts of royalty, and the spoil of the people,Diana of Poitiers, for example, received all the fines paid for
the renewal of offices and privileges under the new reign, —
men at once perceived and regretted the prudent policy of
Francis, who had exiled the constable, and mistrusted the
Guises. Acting contrary to his example and advice, and allowing the great aristocratic chiefs to acquire influence and
wealth in the administration, instead of changing his ministers, and preventing the undue pre-eminence of any subject,
Henry laid the foundation of those party intrigues and civil
wars which proved the destruction of his race.
It was the care of the new king to celebrate the obsequies
of his predecessor in the most magnificent style. The bishop,
who pronounced the funeral oration, used a bold metaphor,
which gave occasion to the bigots of the Sorbonne to show
their zeal. King Francis, according to the worthy prelate,
had been of so holy a life, that his soul had gone straight into
paradise without passing through the flames of purgatory.
The denial of purgatory was a favorite tenet of the reformers.
The Sorbonne forthwith accused the preacher of heresy
they sent a deputation to St. Germain to make known their
complaint to the king. Mendosa, a chief officer of the court,
first received it; and by a facetious speech, saved Henry from
an act of injustice. "Calm yourselves, gentlemen," said he
to the deputies of the Sorbonne; "if you had known the
good king Francis as well as I did, you would have better
understood the words of the preacher. Francis was not a
man to tarry long anywhere; and if he did take a turn in
purgatory, believe me, the devil himself could not persuade
him to lmake any thing like a sojourn."




208               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1547
The famous duel between Jarnac and Chataigneraie, was
the first striking event of Henry's reign. They had both
oeen pages in the court of Francis I. Chataigneraie was a
stout youth, given to quarrel, skilled at his weapon, and renowned for his hardihood: he excelled in those rude and
martial exercises which the dauphin Henry loved, and was
consequently a favorite with him. Jarnac, on the contrary
was a beau, given to gallantry, and fond of dress and elegance; a taste which he indulged to an extent beyond his
apparent means. It happened that once in the society of
l4enry, Chataigneraie, contemning such taste and such a
mode of life, asked Jarnac, where he found resources for such
expense  Jarnac replied, "that although his father was
liberal in his allowances, yet that he obtained an increase of
funds through his stepmother, with whom he had made himself a favorite." This passed. But Chataigneraie construed
the words of Jarnac into an insinuation that he enjoyed the
favor of his stepmother in a criminal sense. He mentioned this
to Henry, who repeated it to Diana of Poitiers. The calumny
circulated in whispers, and at length reached the ears of
Jarnac's father. The son was summoned. In horror he disavowed the crime, and succeeded in exculpating himself.
He followed this up by appearing before Francis in the presence of the court, and declaring, that whoever had given birth
to such a report "lied in his throat." The dauphin took this
deadly insult to himself: he, however, could not come forward.
The rude Chataigneraie did, and asserted that he had heard
Jarnac boast of having been too intimate with his stepmother.  A challenge, of course, was the consequence, and
Francis was besought by the antagonists to appoint the field for
a combat, the issue of which was to decide the guilt or innocence of Jarnac. Francis, however, forbade the duel, either
averse to the absurd principle of judicial combat, or aware
how much the imprudence of his son had been the occasion
of the quarrel. On Henry's accession, Jarnac renewed his
challenge and demand.  The king consented. The lists
were prepared at St. Germain: Henry and his court were
witnesses. When the antagonists met in the inclosed field,
the slender Jarnac seemed unable to resist the powerful
Chataigneraie: he retired before his blows, covering himself
with his buckler, until seizing an opportunity he wounded
his adversary in the back of the leg, and completely disabled
him. The victor, however, spared his adversary. Having in
vain asked Chataigneraie to recall the calumnies that he had
uttered, Jarnac advanced towards the monarch, and, by the
usual courtesy of placing it at the sovereign's disposal, waived
his right to his enemy's life. The fierce Chataigneraie scorn



1548.         INSURRECTION AT BORDEAUX.              2(0
ed to be thus spared: he refused chirurgical aid; even tore
his wounds open when they had been dressed, and died. Such
was the judicial conbat, in which may be said to have origi,
nated the modern Duel.
The new reign was signalized by a number of new edicts.
Robberies and asassinations had become more common: commerce with Italy, and the recent invention of the pistol, that
convenient weapon for concealment and menace, contributed
to this. Severe laws for seizing murderers were enacted,
and the condemned were to be broken on the wheel. Arms
were forbidden, except for the military. The jurisdiction of
the provost of the police was extended, to the dissatisfaction
of the parliament, who protested, and could only be brought
to register the law by considering the wickedness of the age.
A complete poor-law was at the same time enacted for the
capital; and sumptuary edicts prohibited the use of silk and
velvet, with curious exceptions in favor of different garments
and personages. To call together the states was no more the
policy of Henry than of Francis; and to impose new taxes
was an unpopular commencement of a new reign: nevertheless, the fixed revenue did not suffice; war was becoming
daily more expensive. An increase in the current value of
coin, for the sale of the crown-lands, and the demand of a free
gift from the good towns, were the first financial measures of
Henry.
After his consecration the king proceeded to make the tour
of his dominions, visiting his strong places, and reviewing
his armies. He had reached Turin, when tidings arrived of
a serious insurrection in Angoumois and Saintonge. The
gabelleurs, or collectors of the salt-tax, had commenced their
operations in the new reign with increased rigor. The inhabitants of the little town of Lorignac first thought proper
to resist: they beat the collectors, and put them to flight.
The whole country, on learning this success, fell on the
odious gabelleurs: the peasants armed and mustered; and the
collectors having disappeared, they proceeded to attack the
chateaux of the gentry. The insurrection at length reached
Bordeaux; and its governor, Monneins, found it necessary
to shut himself in Chateau-trompette, the fortress of the
town. Imprudently coming forth soon afterwards to parley
with the insurgents, he was slain. The people salted his
mangled remains, to mark the cause of their sedition.
The king, on learning these excesses, instantly ret rned
to Lyons, and dispatched the constable with an army to crush
the insurrection. The Bordelais, who knew his severe temper, were terrified at his approach. They sent a splendid
birk for his conveyance, with their keys, in token of submis



210                HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1549
sion, and a prayer that the lansquenets, whose violence they
dreaded, night not be allowed to enter their walls.' My
lansquenets are loyal servitors of the king," replied Montmorency; "take back your keys; here are those I intend to
make use of."  He pointed to a formidable train of artillery.
The constable's entry was like his answer,-menacing.  His
first care was to erect gibbets and scaffolds.  One hundred
citizens were thereon executed.  Two peasant leaders died
on the rack.  The city was to lose its privileges; and its
chief magistrates were compelled to disinter, with their
nails, the body of Monneins, and transport it i-or honorable
burial to the cathedral. Montmorency's progress through the
insurgent provinces was marked by equal severity.  Henry
made afterwards some compensation for this rigor. Bordeaux
recovered its privileges; and the gabclle itself was diminished. After this success, the court celebrated at Moulins
the marriage of Antoine de Bourbon duke de Vend6me with
Jane d'Albret, daughter and heiress of the king of Navarre.
From this union Henry IV. was destined to spring.
The peace with England and with the emperor had subsisted during the two first years of Henry's reign, notwithstanding the determination of all parties to re-engage in war.
But the emperor, thouoh victorious over the Protestants, was
yet occupied in establishing and confirming the superiority
that his arms had acquired. The English flag, waving on the
walls of Boulogne, was what chiefly touched and occupied
Henry. His views were turned in that direction, rather than
towards Germany.  The cautious counsels of Montmorency
alone kept the young king from open war with England. The
policy of France, however, acquired a victory over her enemy
at this time, greater than any that her arms could effect.
This was the abstraction of Mary, heiress of Scotland, from
that country to France, where she was betrothed to Francis,
eldest son of Henry II. In the following year the French
attacked Boulogne with a large force, while the duke of
Somerset, occupied with the discontents and dissensions at
home, was unable to dispatch an army to its relief.  Nor
could the emperor be induced to aid or interfere. A wet
season, and an inundation, which broke up the camp of the
French, and dispersed their forces, alone saved Boulogne for
that year; and in the next a treaty was concluded between
the crowns, greatly to the advantage of France.  Boulogne
was surrendered; a certain sum was paid by France, who
nevertheless refused to continue the pension that Francis I.
had paid to Henry. Scotland was included in the treaty.
Hume remarks, that during these negotiations the emperor
observed that the prerogatives of an English king were more




1550.          THE COUNCIL OF TRENT.                 211
extensive than those of a king of France.  The emperor, in
one respect, spoke truth. The English king had more power
over his nobles, to ruin, or cause them to be beheaded. This
proceeded from the late civil wars, from the change of dynasty, and from the frequency and danger of treason. Hence
the king of England was more dreaded in his court, the etiquette of which was most severe. Vieilleville, sent as an
envoy to England by Henry II., observed with wonder that
the British monarch was served by lords on the knee. The
debonnaire Francis had established for nobles much greater
equality with the crown. But if the English kings were
more powerful judicially than the French, or rather, if they
made more use of that authority, the English commons, on
the other hand, preserved their principal right and custom of
granting taxes; and however base and obsequious were the
parliaments of the Tudors, still they did wisely in not risking their existence and influence in a premature struggle
with the crown,-such as had proved the ruin of the French
states-general,-until the public mind had gathered the information and consistency requisite to support them; or until
religious dissent and freedom of opinion had arisen to give a
new and stubborn principle of force to the people.
France had now remained for six years at peace with the
empire. Charles had well employed this interval of leisure
in humbling and subduing the Protestant league of German
princes. With the aid of Maurice of Saxony, he had defeated them at the battle of Muhlberg, in 1547. He had been
severe, and even unjust, in his treatment of their chiefs,
whom he retained prisoners. But his efforts had been zealously and not illiberally directed towards the impracticable
task of reconciling and uniting the two hostile sects. Had
the debate been even confined to Germany, any arrangement
short of toleration would have been impossible. But the
rights and claims, the spiritual and temporal interests of the
pope, joined with his bad faith and intrigues, might have deterred even the politic and powerful Charles from the attempt.
A general council was summoned at Trent. The Protestants
disowned, and the pontiff dreaded its authority. The appearance of a pestilential disease afforded Paul a pretext to remove it to Bologna. Months passed in discussions. The pope
and the emperor could not take the same views. The pope
would not yield a jot of his authority; and the emperor, sincerely interested in its consequences, was bent on restoring
peace to the church. Enmity broke out between them. The
assassination of the pope's nephew Farnese, by some malcontent nobles of Placentia, and the subsequent occupation of
that town by the emperor, completed the disgust of Paul
14




212               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1551
who applied to Henry for his alliance and aid. But the
French monarch was not yet prepared; besides, the great
age of the pontiff deterred him. The emperor, in the mean
time, tried his plan of conciliation. He caused to be drawn
up such a series of religious tenets, as he imagined both parties might accept from a love of peace. These, known under
the name of Interim, were presented to a diet: they were
dissatisfactory to both parties; but the emperor insisted on
submission to them, until a general council should decide.
Henry II. had hitherto forborne to interfere in these religious quarrels.  He wisely determined on first settling his
differences with England. Nevertheless his edicts against
heretics, and his pursuit of them in his own dominions, manifested his orthodoxy. In March, 1548, numbers of people
from Auvergne were burned in Paris for heresy; and the
gorgeous ceremony of Henry's public entry into his capital
was terminated, as all festivals and holidays were, by a similar sacrifice.  The king had as yet no feeling but contempt
for the reformation. None but the lowest and most ignorant
of his subjects professed it, at least openly. And the absence
from court of that host of prelates, who had urged Francis to
persecution, left the monarch for a time happily ignorant, or
careless, of a disease, that had already gained the vitals of
the kingdom.
The peace between France and England excited, not without reason, the emperor's jealousy and fears. Henry now
turned his view to oppose Charles, and many little causes of
difference had arisen between them. The affair of Parma
was left unsettled by pope Paul, who died in 1550. The new
pontiff, Julius III., was embarrassed by the conflicting interests and desires of Francis and of Charles. The Council of
Trent was summoned to meet in the following May. But
both monarchs and the pontiff forgot alike the peace of the
church and the repose of Christendom, in their desire to preserve influence or dominion in one town. Julius, after much
hesitation, inclined to the side of the emperor, who flattered
him with the idea of making Parma a principality for one of
his family. Charles accordingly, with the pope's acquiescence,
besieged Farnese in Parma. Henry instantly ordered troops
tc his aid; and thus the war commenced in 1551, though no
military feat signalized the brief campaign.
Henry, now at enmity with pope and emperor, looked round
in search of allies. He succeeded in gaining the Swiss, except those of the Protestant cantons of Berne and Zurich,
and in exciting the.Turks against the empire, although this
league was of course kept as secret as possible. The Prolestant princes of Germany were those whose alliance was




1551.          LEAGUE AGAINST CHARLES.               213
most important in resisting and diverting the forces of Charles.
That party had been humbled, but not destroyed. The emperor, in the arrogancy of victory, had alienated from him
Maurice, the new elector of Saxony, himself a Protestant,
although hitherto the chief cause of the downfall of the Protestant league. Maurice, having secured from Charles the
pre-eminence agreeable to his ambition, which was all the
advantage he could hope to gain, now meditated on rallying
the vanquished party, in order to put himself at its head, and
defy the emperor. In secret the Protestant league was renewed; and envoys were sent to Henry to conclude an alliance with him. It is asserted in the memoirs of Vieilleville,
that the king and the constable were both averse to this alliance, and wished to retire from the war, until Vieilleville
himself spoke, and not only decided the council in favor of
the alliance, but proposed the seizure of the three imperial
towns of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, agreeably to a suggestion
of count Nassau. Vieilleville probably exaggerated his own
influence, and miscalculated respecting the backwardness of
Henry and Montmorency on this occasion. At any rate, the
league was concluded against the emperor, and Maurice of
Saxony was declared its chief. The king promised to pay
240,000 crowns at the commencement of the war, and a
monthly subsidy afterwards. He was also to attack the Low
Countries, and possess himself of the imperial towns abovementioned. This treaty, concluded in October, 1551, was
kept secret until the subtle Maurice declared the moment
favorable for throwing off the mask.
Henry's resentment against the pope was excessive. TIe
sent Amyot, the translator of Plutarch, to Trent, where the
council was to assemble on the 1st of September. Amyot
protested in a public speech against the authority of an assembly, which the French prelates were prevented from joining
by the war which the pontiff himself had excited. In a speech,
of which the aim is not very clear, though the ill temper is
evident, Amyot enumerates a long list of papal iniquities and
usurpations. He alluded to the pragmatic sanction as still i;.
vigor, declared Henry's contempt of excommunication, and
entreated the fathers to apply some remedy to this rising
schism. The French king showed his inveteracy not only in
word but in act, by issuing an edict forbidding the dispatch
if annates, or any tribute-money to Rome. These menaces
intimidated the pope more than the arms of Henry.  Ere the
year elapsed, Julius sued for a reconciliation, which took
place, and a cessation of hostilities left France in possession
of Parma. But lest the partisans of the reformation should be
emboldened in the kingdomr-by this enmity towards the pope,




214               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1552.
and by the king's league with the German Protestants, soon
to be made public, he issued about this time the celebrated
edict of Chateaubriand against heretics.  This, besides recapitulating and sanctioning the old punishments against innovators in religion, declares their crime cognizable both by
the common courts of law and the ecclesiastical courts. The
favorers or concealers of heretics, even those who interceded
for them, were declared equally criminal with the principals.
Great pains were taken to discover any such leanings among
men in office. A system of espionage was ordered for this
purpose. A profession of faith was publicly and frequently
demanded, and no new functionaries entered on their employments without a certificate of Catholicity. The property of
all fugitives was declared to be confiscated, as well as all
money sent to Geneva.  Severe laws were enacted against
the press; and that of Lyons was more especially watched
and fettered, owing to its vicinity to Switzerland. A Dominican friar, named Orri, was confirmed in the office of
grand inquisitor, and he was allowed to appoint subaltern
agents throughout the kingdom. This fearful body had in
France, however, no greater power than that of inquiring
and denouncing: condemnations could only be passed in the
regular laic or ecclesiastical courts.
The winter of 1551-2 was employed by Henry, as well as
by Maurice of Saxony, in secret preparations for attacking
the emperor. Henry held a bed of justice, a kind of solemn
meeting of the king and court with the parliament, in February. Notwithstanding the now established despotism of the
French king, the necessity was fel of making publicly known
new and important measures of policy or finance, to a body
that represented, or might affect to represent, the nation.
The king in a speech explained the cause and purpose of the
war on which he was about to enter; recommended the maintenance of justice and the suppression of heresy; and stated
his intention of leaving the queen as regent in his absence,the first time that Catherine of Medicis appears to have been
invested with authority. The constable, who spoke after the
king, detailed at great length all the improvements and policy
of the reign: he enumerated the forces then in active service; stated the additional force that would be requisite
and concluded by asking those assembled, as if they were the
states-general, what they could do in return, and in support
of such wisdom? The cardinal of Bourbon then rose, and
announced that the French church had agreed to offer a considerable sum to meet the present necessities of the kingdom.
The fact was, that an edict, framed by chancellor Poyet, was
issued by Francis I. in 1539, considerably curtailing the juris




552.            HIENIY SEIZES METZ.                 215 
diction of the ecclesiastical courts; and the sum now offered
by the clergy was the price of the repeal of the obnoxious
law. The repeal was promised, but the parliament never
would allow it to be registered, or to have force. At present,
in answer to the constable's exhortation, the parliament made
no offer of their purse; they merely promised obsequiousness
and obedience; which were soon put to the test when the
financial scheme of the constable was announced. This was
the establishment of sixty minor or presidial courts, as they
were called, throughout the kingdom, for the hearing and
leciding of all suits, in which the value to be recovered did
not exceed 500 livres. Divers other vendible offices and
courts were also ordained; and thus was created a lasting
annual charge upon the state, for the sake of a momentary
sum. The parliament were thunderstruck, and made some
demur; but, as they could propose no better plan in the exigencies of the moment, they allowed the new edict to be
registered by express command of the king, thus recording
at the same time their own dissent.
The king summoned his army and noblesse to meet him in
March, on the borders of Champagne.  At that very period
Maurice of Saxony threw off the mask and turned his arms
against the emperor, who was reposing in confidence at Inspruck, without any means of defence. Never was a cunning
prince so taken in his own toils. Maurice entered Augsburg
on the 1st of April, and Inspruck in May, Charles being
obliged to make a precipitate retreat to avoid being taken
prisoner. Henry, on his part, commenced by making himself master of Toul, which opened its gates. Metz, more
important, made more difficulties. The French army was
beneath its walls, and the citizens feared alike to submit and
to resist. They permitted the constable, however, to enter
with a guard of honor. Montmorency, by stratagem, multiplied his guard into a strong division: the burgher sentries,
who objected, were pushed aside, and Metz was in the power
of the French. All Lorraine was overrun by them, and the
young duke of that province was conveyed to Paris to be
educated with the dauphin.  The Guises were too honorable
to allow of the spoliation of their helpless relative.  Strasburg, however, warned by the fate of Metz, refused to admit
the French troops: tidings arrived, in the mean time, that
Maurice, having failed in his project of taking the emperor,
had concluded a treaty with him. This was the peace of religion, or of Passau, by which liberty of conscience was secured to the German Protestants. Never was nobler aim
gained by war: we even pardon, in consideration of that great?nd, the dissimulation and fatlsehood of Maurice




216               HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1552.
Henry now discovered that he was abandoned by his new
allies, who had made their peace with the emperor, without
including him or consulting his interests. They perhaps reasoned, that the towns which he had taken were ample payment for the assistance that he had rendered. The French
king soon began to feel himself exposed to the sole fury of
the war. The emperor's sister, who governed the Low
Countries, sent two armies; one to ravage Picardy, the other
Champagne. Instead, however, of defending his subjects,
Henry advanced to annoy those of his enemy. He entered
the province of Luxembourg, overran it, and took several
towns. The emperor, in the mean time, had mustered his
forces. An event that spoke well for the character of Charles
was, that his captains, and the subjects of his various kingdoms, rallied to his aid instead of deserting him in his distress, and he soon found himself at the head of an army of
60,000 men. With this force he advanced to the Rhine, sedulously endeavoring to conceal the object of his march. But
Henry was at no loss to discover this. The possession of the
towns lately captured was of the first importance to his kingdom, which they covered on the side of Champagne, a frontier comparatively open without them; and the same reasons
which prompted Henry to return and defend them obstinately,
must have equally stimulated Charles to recapture them, even
if ideas of retaliation and vengeance had not been a sufficient
impulse.
To put Metz into a state of defence was now the sole
thought of the French. It is singular, that giving battle to
the emperor was never once proposed by any officer of that
gallant nation. But with all the valor displayed by individuals,
nothing could be more timid than the general operations of
war in those days; a misfortune doubtless attributable in a
great measure to the limited and almost exhausted finances
of Henry.
Francis duke of Guise, who had not long succeeded to his
father Claude, the first duke, took upon him the command of
Metz. A great part of the warlike noblesse of France hastened to serve under his command, and, with 6000 chosen
troops, composed the garrison. The exertions of Guise to
conciliate the inhabitants of the new conquest, to repair and
complete the fortifications, and to provide ample store of
victuals, were strenuous. He gained on this occasion the
reputation of a hero, by his activity, a quality not less excellent than courage.
It was the middle of October ere Charles invested Metz,
the duke of Alva having the chief command under him. Albert of Brandenburg was in the neighborhood with a body of




1552.          METZ'NVESTED BY CHARLES.               217
mercenary troops. Both parties endeavored to gain him, but
the emperor succeeded   Albert signalized his adhesion by
routing a French corps, and taking prisoner the duke of Aumale, the brother of Guise. The defence was not less obstinate.  A month elapsed ere any thing like a breach could be
effected, but the activity of Guise had raised new fortifications. Not even the presence of the emperor could inspire
the audacity requisite for the attack. Winter at length surprised the besiegers, and it came with unusual rigor. The
army, encamped under tents, soon suffered from the severity
of the weather; and provisions began to grow scarce, the
supplies being intercepted by hovering bodies of French cavalry.  Early in December a vigorous sortie of the garrison
had discomfited the imperialists. The latter, notwithstanding
their position as besiegers, confined themselves to the defensive, whilst their enemies were ever ready to rush out to the
attack. The difficulty, indeed, was to restrain them, and this
impetuosity it was which chiefly employed the ingenuity of
Guise. Charles at length tried to undermine the walls and
to effect a breach; but the French countermined, and wore
out his patience as well as his force. After a sorry Christmas,
Charles raised the siege, and the glory of Guise was comr
plete.  He made a generous use of victory; provided neces.
saries for the wounded and famished enemy, and contrived tc
become as popular with the foe as he already was with the
French.  His troops imitated him. A squadron engaged in
pursuit of the flying enemy came up with a band, who asked,
simply enough,-what the French wanted?-" We seek to
exchange a few blows, to be sure," was the reply.-" We are
in no condition for any such amusement," rejoined the imperialists: "go away, and let us retire in quiet."  The French
were generous enough to follow the advice.
Charles shut himself up in Brussels, devoured with mortification, and tormented by the gout.  "I see that fortune is
a woman," exclaimed he: "she abandons my gray hairs."
The emperor's spirit rallied, however, when the season arrived for again entering the field, and he succeeded in taking
partial vengeance. He made himself master of Therouanne;
and in his anger rased and obliterated it so completely, that
not a vestige of it now remains. This was an important loss.
Therouanne in the north, and Aix in the south, were considered the bulwarks of the kingdom, or, in the words of Francis I., they were "the pillows on which a king of France
might lay his head."* Hesdin, a strong town on the borders
* It is curious here to observe, that Napoleon looked on Antwerp, May,
mnce, and Alessandria, as the bulwarks of his empire.




218               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1554
of Picardy, was also taken by the emperor. There seems tc
have been no army to oppose to him; the want of troops being still owing to the low state of the finances. The revenue
was not sufficient for the defence of the kingdom. The government feared to increase the taxes, and had recourse to
temporary expedients for raising money; while they feared
to convoke the states-general, who might have adapted the
revenue to the advance and exigencies of the time. Besides
the usual expedient of creating new offices, and of rendering
the old offices hereditary, for money, a kind of stamp or registry duty was established; and an iniquitous law obliged
the subject, in certain cases, to yield up his income to the
king in lieu of uncertain and long-dated drafts on the salt
fund.
In policy Charles still showed himself to have the advantage. The marriage of Philip, his eldest son, with Mary
queen of England, in the commencement of 1554, menaced
Henry with a renewal of that league which had crushed his
father. The French, however, seemed determined to repair
the ill success of the last campaign.  Montmoreney, whom
the loss of Therouanne had thrown into a fit of sickness,
spent the winter in the collection of funds and forces; and
Henry, accompanied by the constable and the duke of Guise,
entered the Low Countries. They laid siege to Marienburg,
and took it: Bovines and Dinant were also won. Philibert
Emmanuel prince of Savoy, the son of that duke whom the
arms of Francis I. had dispossessed, cannonaded the imperialists, but had no force competent to oppose the French. In
those days of narrow resources and unsettled finances, contending powers seldom made a simultaneous effort. Previous
oad success, or a sudden impulse, excited one of them to a
great exertion, which, until an interval had elapsed, it was
impossible to renew.  Thus advantage alternated from side
to side, and even victory brought no decision. This year the
French were in sufficient force for battle, and it was the desire of Guise to fight; but the prudent Montmorency, to
whose opinions the king paid great deference, would not admit of risk. The veteran constable began to entertain considerable jealousy of Guise, and of the fame he had acquired
Wy the defence of Metz.  Montmorency put forward his
nephew, Gaspard de Coligny, as a competitor of Guise,
placing Coligny under the duke's command, to watch and
witness his proceedings.
The French invested Renti, a frontier town of Artois, and
warmly pressed the siege. Charies himself advanced to throw
succors into it, and encamped near the French. The duke of
Guise commanded the wing or division next to the emperor




1555,       CHARLES RESIGNS IlS DOMINIONS.            219
He conceived a plan for drawing on a general action by means
of an ambuscade, to which he enticed the enemy's cavalry.
A partial engagement ensued, in which Guise was victorious;
but as the constable refused to march to his assistance, or
make the contest general, the emperor retired to his camp
and fortified it. To take Renti in his presence was impracticable, and the siege was therefore abandoned. It was the
cause of a lively dispute between Guise and the constable,
and their mutual enmity became henceforth declared. In Italy
the principal event of the war was the revolt of Sienna in
favor of France, and the gallant siege sustained for more
than six months by that town against a far superior force.
The siege, as recorded by Montluc himself, the commander,
is renowned. Montluc was the Gascon whose impatient oddity
and eloquence had won Francis I. to give permission for the
cattle of Cerisoles. He was a brave but reckless and cruel
adventurer: he fully displays in his Memoirs that quality of
his native province which has become proverbial, viz. gasconading. He was in the end obliged to surrender Sienna. The
French indemnified themselves soon afterwards by the conquest of Corsica.
The year 1555 commenced with an attempt at concluding
a peace, under the mediation of cardinal Pole. It failed, but
not owing to the spirit or inveteracy of the belligerents. As
to Charles, he soon after gave the most convincing proofs that
ambition and revenge were alike dead within him. He resigned the crown of Spain, with his possessions in Italy and the
Low Countries to his son Philip. He endeavored to unite the
empire in the same hands, but his brother Ferdinand, already
emperor elect, was resolute in supporting his right to the full
dignity. The time chosen for these resignations was towards
the close of the year 1555. Ere they took place, the intrigues
of the pope, Paul IV., Caraffa by name, awakened those dormant hopes of conquest in Italy which the French never could
altogether abandon. The elevation of a new pope was the
signal for his relatives to aim at principalities. The nephews
of Caraffa might indulge in such aspirations, but the Roman
territories had been sufficiently curtailed by the cession of
Parma to Farnese. From the emperor, who was hostile to
Paul's election, they had nothing to hope. Recourse was therefore had to Henry, and temptations were held out to him to undertake the conquest of Naples, the native country of Caraffa.
Henry hesitated, and Montmorency strengthened his prudent
resolve not to embroil France again in the unlucky politics
of Italy. The Guises were of a different opinion: the duke
was eager for fame, for victory, and conquest: his brother the
cardinal saw in French success his own elevation to the pope



220               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1555
dom. Their warlike counsel prevailed against the prudent
advice of the constable. A treaty was signed with the pope;
but its fulfilment was interrupted by the retirement cf Charles,
and the wish that he expressed to leave his empire at peace.
This led to negotiations, and finally to a truce of five years,
highly advantageous to Henry, whom it left in possession of
Savoy, as well as of his important conquests in Lorraine.
Notwithstanding the numerous and severe edicts of the
king, Calvin was daily gaining disciples in France. Hitherto,
fearing to show themselves in the capital, they had propagated their opinions amongst the peasantry and provincial
burgesses. An edict was issued in 1552 against the hedgeschools (ecoles buissormiiees) which the reformers were in
the custom of holding in the country. The unlimited sale of
offices, however, counteracted the severity of Henry's laws.
In order to multiply places in the parliament, the judges were
to sit but half the year, and to be succeeded by a fresh set
altogether. Men of all ranks and opinions had purchased these
places of trust. Many who held or favored reform  had thus
crept into influence; and the bigotry of the government was
neutralized by its misrule and venality. In 1555, a church or
congregation of Protestants was formed in Paris after the
model of Geneva; and several towns, as Meaux, Poitiers, and
Angers, followed the example.  The new tenets had even
reached the court. Montmorency's nephew, Coligny, the admiral, became a convert, and he made use of his office to dispatch a Protestant colony to Brazil, which failed, however,
in the attempt to form a settlement. The court soon became
aware of the progress and boldness of the reformers. The
cardinal of. Lorraine, on inquiring, found that the provincial
and inferior courts, chiefly ecclesiastical, were neutralized in
their pursuit of heretics by the liberty allowed of appealing
to the parliaments or higher courts, who appeared to be by
no means zealous or severe. He therefore prepared an ordonnance, declaring the ecclesiastical judges and inquisitors competent to try and condemn without reference or appeal. This,
however, the parliament instantly refused to register. They
sent a deputation to present a remonstrance to the king, conceived in the genuine spirit of toleration, declaring, that
"the punishment of heretics had increased their number;
and that it would be far preferable to imitate the primitive
church, who made proselytes and preserved the faith, not by
fire and sword, but by the pure doctrine and exemplary lives
of the bishops." The king showed himself indignant at their
opposition; but the parliament remained unshaken in its determination to resist the establishment of an inquisition.
The truce of five vears concluded with Charles was doorn



L557.            SIEGE OF ST. QUENTIN.              221
ed not to last out the first twelve months. The Caraffas renewed their solicitations and their offers to tempt Henry te
the conquest of Naples; Guise supported their arguments
and, despite of the constable, war was again resolved on. It
was not until the commencement of the following year, 1557,
that the duke of Guise could enter Italy at the head of an
army  He advanced with it to Rome, bent upon the conquest
of Naples. But the pope, on his side, had made no preparations; his contingent of troops was not.raised, and Guise's
own force was too weak to wrest Naples from the duke of
Alva.
Philip II. in the mean time raised an army in the Low
Countries to try his first fortune in war. It amounted to
50,000 men; and he showed his sagacity in giving the conlmand to Philibert duke of Savoy. He had influence enough
with his spouse, queen Mary of England, to make her join
him in the war, which she formally declared, sending a large
body of English troops to swell Philip's army. The duke of
Savoy opened the campaign by laying siege to St. Quentin,
a strong town of considerable importance on the Somme.
Coligny, whom his uncle Montmorency always pushed on to
rival Guise, threw himself into the town, resolved to rival by
its defence that of Metz. The admiral, however, had not so
gallant a garrison under his command, and the duke of
Savoy pressed the siege with such activity and skill, that
Coligny communicated to the constable his fears for the
result.
Montmorency accordingly advanced to succor the admiral,
18,000 troops being the utmost force that he could muster.
The flower of the army was in Italy. The walls of St. Quentin
adjoined a deep marsh, on which, of course, the besiegers
did not take post. Through the marsh flowed a kind of
rivulet; the constable proposed embarking his succors on this
stream, which would float them towards the walls; and he
calculated, that to gain the town from thence would not be
difficult. A difference, however, arose in the council. Every
measure was fiercely disputed in this reign of rivalry. The
constable intended to lead the whole army to the bank of the
marsh, in order to protect the troops destined to enter the
place. The mareschal St. Andr6 wisely, as it appeared,
deprecated the risk, and recommended that a body of infantry
only should make the attempt under favor of night. Montmorency, however, led on the whole of his little army, and
committed the first blunder in not arriving at the appointed
spot until the morning was advanced. However, Dandelot,
brother of Coligny, embarked with the succors on the unlucky
rivulet, which did not flow near enough to the walls. Most




222               HISTORY O  IFRANCE.              1557
of the troops returned; many were drowned; not more than
500, among whom was Dandelot, gained St. Quentin.  The
duke of Savoy was not idle in advancing on the small army
of the French; whilst Montmorency, too tardy in retreating,
was equally so in attacking.  On their passage over a causeway through the marshy grounds, the imperialists might
have been assailed with advantage; but the time was lost.
The French were surrounded on every side by superior
numbers; still they fought with obstinacy: Montmorency
and St. Andre charged the enemy with furious courage; the
veteran constable was unhorsed, and taken prisoner; the
count d'Enghien and 600 gentlemen-that name now superseded the designation of knight-perished.  Some of the
highest noblesse of France were made captives.
Philip soon after arrived in his victorious camp, and showed
the utmost gratitude towards the duke of Savoy. When the.atter sought to kiss the monarch's hand, Philip prevented
him, replying, that it was himself who ought to kiss the
hands of one that had procured him so glorious a victory.
Still he did not pay entire deference to his general's opinion;
for when the duke proposed to abandon St. Quentin, and
march without delay towards Paris, the monarch hesitated,
and shrunk from the bold enterprise. Philip here showed
himself a descendant of the cold and cautious house of
Austria.  St. Quentin, now closely pressed, was taken by
assault, notwithstanding all the efforts.of Coligny, who was
made prisoner while fighting in the breach. The French
king, amidst these reverses, exerted himself to rally his affairs, and dispel the panic of his people. Dispatches were
instantly sent to Italy, recalling the duke of Guise and his
army. The ban and arriere ban were called out, and the
fortresses garrisoned. It was the queen, Catherine of Medicis, who showed her activity and presence of mind on this
occasion.  She summoned the burgesses of Paris, restored
confidence to them by her words, and obtained from them the
grant of 100,000 crowns; considering that sum necessary
for raising and supporting a corps of 10,000 men. The king,
at the same time, in his panic, promised his subjects to con
voke the states-general in the ensuing year. Either the
fears ~f the French were groundless, or their exertions for
defence effectual. Philip made no use of his brilliant victory; and his army dispersed in autumn without even capturing
another town.
By that time the duke of Guise had returned to Paris.
His departure had obliged the pope to become reconciled tc
Philip, who testified that reverence for the church which
education had instilled into him, by exacting no harsh condi



1558.      CALAIS TAKEN FROM THE ENGLISH.            223
tions. It was now winter, a period when hostilities ceased;
hut the active spirit of Guise could not rest, till he had taken
revenge for the defeat of St. Quentin, and he determined to
make use of that army of Swiss and Germans which the
money of the Parisians had raised.  His design was to surprise Calais, and thus not only punish queen Mary for
espousing her husband's quarrel, but achieve a feat for which
the French would assuredly be grateful, that of driving the
English from their last fortress on the Continent. It was
customary to weaken the garrison of Calais in the winter
months, when the overflowing of the marshes rendered the
town approachable only by a single causeway. Despite the
warnings of king Philip, and of Wentworth the governor,
Calais was left with a garrison of merely 500 men. Guise
fell suddenly upon it in January, 1558, took the external forts
by assault, and then the citadel: the town itself surrendered
after a siege, or rather attack, of eight days.
It now becomes necessary to recur to the history of the
reformation, since the reformers, as a party, henceforth began
to influence not only the wishes of the nation, and the remonstrances of parliament, but the intrigues of the court
itself. The Protestants of Paris had taken courage from the
successful opposition of the parliament to the edict establishing the independence of ecclesiastical judges. The defeat
of St. Quentin, and the distress of the government, still more
emboldened them. Henry had ordained public processions
in the capital, in order to avert the wrath of heaven, manifested in the success of the enemy. The Protestants derided
this mode of propitiating the Deity; and, as if to provoke
comparison, celebrated their own simple rites more openly.
Four hundred of them met in the Rue St. Jaques to celebrate
the communion, and to hear one of their noted preachers.
Curiosity collected a crowd of citizens of the old faith in the
street. Zeal, by degrees, influenced them: they menaced
and besieged the congregation within.  The stoutest of the
Protestants, however, rushed forth, and the mob fled from
them. The women and the timid portion of the congrega
tion remained in the house of assembly.  Some had come
prepared to pass the night there for concealment, as well as
to avoid traversing the city at a late hour. The crowd again
collected, and again besieged these unfortunate beings:
breaking in upon them at length, they beat and abused them,
until a force arrived to take the unfortunate sectaries to
prison. The most atrocious calumnies were, as usual, circli
lated concerning their ceremonies of worship. These were
said to be licentious, and even diabolical: all the crimes of
the German Anabaptists were attributed to them; and some




224               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1558.
paillasses, which a few of the infirm and aged votaries had
brought, being found, were adduced as proofs that the new
doctrines were merely a pretext and a cloak for gross corruption of morals.
Among the prisoners government was astonished to find a
number of respectable persons,-ladies of the court, and even
attendants on the queen; a circumstance that threw some
suspicion on Catherine of Medicis. The cardinal of Lorraine
was wroth. Anxious to commit the knot of heretics to the
flames, he still feared that if he sent them before the parliament many would be acquitted.  He therefore employed a
certain judicial police officer, technically called a lieutenant
civil, named Musnier, to try the prisoners summarily, and in
the case of an appeal to parliament, to act himself as reporter
of the case, which would necessarily tell against the accused. The parliament opposed all these maneuvres of tile
cardinal, and took the trial of the prisoners into their own
hands. The case against them was too clear, and the popular feeling, which now declared itself in the capital against
the reformers, too strong to be resisted. The parliament
accordingly condemned five of the congregation of Protestants
to be burned in the Place de Greve. The rest recovered their
liberty.
While the duke of Guise was engaged in his expedition
against Calais, Henry fulfilled his promise of convoking what
he called the states-general, in Paris. They wanted, nevertheless, the essential characteristic of a national assembly,
viz. representation. In lieu of deputies, chosen expressly in
the different provinces, and sent with their usual store of
grievances and instructions, the mayors and sheriffs of the
different great towns were summoned to constitute the com
mons, or tiers etat. By another innovation, the parliament
of Paris, to whom were joined the presidents of the provincial parliaments, were constituted into a fourth estate, taking
rank between the noblesse and the commons. This was
artful policy on the part of the cardinal of Lorraine, who had
especial reasons for ingratiating himself with the parliament,
and winning it over to the views of the court. There was a
kind of precedent for the act, as in reality the judicial body
had formed a separate class in the assembly of notables
convened by Francis I., when the provost of merchants and
the sheriffs of Paris alone represented the commons of the
kingdom. It is easy to perceive how this artifice of the
court undermined the growing power of the parliament, and
deprived them for ever of the pretence of representing the
body of the people. Had they understood their own interests,
or been endowed with sagacity to look into the future, they




1558o            THE STATES-GENERAL.                 225
would have considered it their highest privilege to be confounded with the commons, and they would have defended it
with the stubbornness which they could display on more
trivial points. But vanity led them astray. It was for their
vanity that the court baited the hook, at which they leaped:
they considered themselves honored by being separated from
the commons, and brought nearer to the noblesse, with whom
they afterwards succeeded in getting themselves confounded.
It was not, however, with any profound views of undermining
the parliament's authority that they were now nominally
elevated in grade; it was for a purpose that will soon appear.
The assembly, replying to the king's message by its four
estates, thanked him in humble language: the address of the
judicial body was conveyed in the most high-flown terms of
gratitude; they made a grant of 3,000,000 of crowns, a tax
to be raised under the name of a loan. The sum was partitioned among the different communal districts, each mayor
and municipality levying their portion. Notwithstanding an
express prayer of the commons, the most rich and powerful,
otherwise the nobles, found means to be relieved from their
share, thus throwing the extraordinary supply, as they did the
ordinary taille, upon the shoulders of the people.
When this assembly of states-general, as the historians of
the time call it, or of notables, as modern writers will have
it, was dissolved, the reason for flattering the parliament became obvious. The king held a bed of justice in that court,
and proposed an edict for establishing an inquisition, after the
manner of Rome; the cardinals of Lorraine, Bourbon, and
Chhtillon being the inquisitors, with full power to arrest, try;
and condemn heretics. The parliament were here taken by
surprise. It was ungracious to make resistance after the
boon they had received. Nevertheless they did demur, and
so far imodified the edict, as to abandon ecclesiastics altogether
to the jurisdiction of the inquisition, but to reserve still to
laymen the ancient and sacred privilege of appeal.
If schism could have been crushed, or put an end to by
violence, there was every cause for these severe edicts; for
it soon appeared that the most powerful men of the kingdom
had embraced the principles of Calvin. Great jealousy rankled
in the minds of the princes of the blood, or rather of the
house of Bourbon, to which the name was confined.  They
were kept in a kind of disgrace, without influence, and
eclipsed by the Guises. The eldest of the family had become king of Navarre, by right of his wife. IHe resided in
his dominions, and there, in a provincial court, the emissaries
of the reformation had insinuated themselves, unwatched, and
uncontrolled-for the prelates of the kingdom  universally




226               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1559.
torsook their dioceses for the court-and succeeded in converting the king to the reformed faith. His brother, the prince
of Conde, followed the same example. Loyalty or attachment to Henry might have prevented this step; but of this
they were destitute.  Jealousy of the duke of Guise, and of
the cardinal of Lorraine, was their predominant feeling.
It was incumbent on these princes to repair to the capital
in order to attend the marriage of the dauphin, Francis, with
Mary, the young queen of Scots, which took place in the
spring of 1558. They there gave courage and countenance
to the Protestants, who were emboldened to assemble publicly
in the open air, chanting the psalms of Marot, and indulging in all the enthusiasm  of heterodox devotion. A serious
tumult occurred on one occasion, and the parliament were
obliged to excuse themselves for not inquiring into it by
avowing the terror which the menaces of the Protestants
against informers produced. It was reported to the king,
probably by the Guises, that Dandelot, brother of Coligny,
was a convert to the new religion.  Henry, who esteemed
Dandelot, sent for him to Monceaux, a palace belonging to
Catherine of Medicis. At supper the monarch took an opportunity to address his guest in a solemn tone of affection,
warned him of the accusation, and begged of him at once to
deny it, and exculpate himself. Dandelot was moved by the
monarch's earnestness and friendship, but nevertheless resolutely avowed his creed, and scrupled not to declare "the
sacrifice of the mass an abomination." Henry started up at
the word, and thrust Dandelot from him as a viper. He instantly ordered him to prison, and gave his place of colonelgeneral of the infantry to Montluc.  The pope, on learning
this, was delighted at the prospect of so illustrious a person
suffering at the stake. But Henry relented, and used every
effort to bend Dandelot, who at length consented that mass
should be said in his prison. He was immediately liberated
and restored to favor. 
The family of Guise was now all-powerful. The duke,
popular for his victories and his liberality, was soon to be still
more popular for his orthodoxy. The constable, his nephew
Coligny, and the mareschal St. Andre, were prisoners of
Philip, and none at court dared to rival or oppose the duke
of Guise and his brother the cardinal. Such prosperity is apt
to bring on the canker of arrogance, which works its ruin.
The duke failed in the respect that he had hitherto paid to
the duchess of Valentinois. The mistress was not insensible
to this, and Guise had soon cause to regret his neglect. He
took the command of the army in May, and invested Thionville, a fortress of Luxembourg, which he took. But the




1539.        PEACE OF CHATEAU CAMBRESIS.              227
French received about the same time a much more serious
check. The mareschal de Termes, governor of Calais, had
invaded the literal of Flanders, and had plundered Dunkirk.
He thought proper, however, to retreat before the count of
Egmont.  The delay caused by the passage of the river Aa,
allowed the Spaniards to come up with him near Gravelines,
and to force him to an action. It was fought with valor on
both sides, and with uncertain success, until some English
vessels of war, cruising off the coast, heard, and made sail
towards the quarter whence proceeded the reports of artillery. Perceiving the engagement, the English ascended the
river with the tide, and placed themselves so as to cannonade
the French. The consequence was, their complete defeat,a disaster that cut short all the sanguine hopes of conquest
entertained by the duke of Guise, and opened the way for
peace.
The king regretted Montmorency, son bon compere, " his
good gossip," as he used to call him.  The arrogance of
Guise, the imperiousness of the cardinal of Lorraine disgusted
him; and the duchess of Valentinois now took care to aggravate his dislike. Henry kept up a familiar correspondence
with the constable, and informed him of passing events, not
disdaining to act as a kind of spy, betraying the petty intrigues and views of the Guises. The constable panted for
his liberty, and resolved to make use of his influence to obtain it. He was liberated on parole. There was a cessation
of hostilities; and commissioners met at Cercamp to arrange
the conditions of a treaty.  The Spaniards presumed on
Montmorency's influence, united with his desire to be free.
Their demands were exorbitant; and the constable returned
to prison. Not long after, however, we find him with the
court at Beauvais, celebrating the marriage of one of his sons
with the granddaughter of the duchess of Valentinois. Negotiations for peace were not relaxed.  The ransom  of the
constable was fixed at 200,000 crowns; but it was to be
diminished by one-half, if peace should be concluded through
his medium, a stipulation that leaves somewhat like a stain
on Montmorency's honor.
By the peace of Chateau Cambresis, signed April, 1559,
France ceded all her conquests and claims in Italy and Savoy. She restored Luxembourg and the Charolois.  In return she kept Metz, Toul, and Verdun, and, what was more
important than all, Calais; the restitution of which, when
Philip no longer insisted on, Elizabeth, the new queen of
England, was in no state to make good. This peace, inveterately opposed by the Guises, and cried down by their partigsans. oi cenerallv condemned by historians, who have taken
15




,28               HISTORY OF FkANCE.                ]559
un the cry, as injurious to France. Her interests, say they,
v ere sacrificed to the freedom of her superannuated constable.
In this respect they exaggerate, wilfully putting Calais out
of consideration, which was ceded more by Philip than by
the English. The treaty was sealed as usual by marriages.
Emmanuel Philibert, the hero of St. Quentin, and now the
restored duke of Savoy, espoused the king's sister.  His
daughter Elizabeth, once the destined bride of the infant of
Spain, was given to that prince's father, Philip; and Claude,
another princess, was betrothed to the duke of Lorraine.
Had the life and reign of Henry II., destined to be of not
much longer duration, closed here, he would have left the
character of a severe but not a perfidious prince. As yet,
the noble sentiments, the chivalric feeling of good faith, that
Francis I. had professed and rendered popular, prevailed.
Neither Henry in all his weakness, nor his ministers in all
their ambition and mutual quarrels, had forgotten the plain
laws of manly uprightness and honor. These were destined
soon to be forgotten. To be brave, candid, generous, loyal,
soon ceased to be the mode. The volumes of chivalry were
soon thrown aside as puerile, and Machiavel was studied in
their place. Another ideal of perfection, and another model
of conduct, were established.  By it dissimulation, cunning,
and fraud, provided they proved successful, were declared to
be the most estimable qualities. Superiority of intellect was
measured by depth of guile. All moral considerations were
of course set aside. The end was in every case found to justify the means, however base; and, as a natural consequence
of such views, the end that each politician proposed to attain
by these extreme measures soon dwindled down into mere
self-interest.
Nowhere, in fact, can be pointed out so sudden and complete a change of national character as that which took place
in France at this epoch. The contemporaries of Francis I.
seem separated by centuries from the men who figured in the
days of his grandson: even the same men present different
characters in the two epochs. The Guise of Henry II.'s
reign is not the Guise of Charles IX. What effected this sad
change? Religion, Catholicism, it must be answered; —the
established faith of Rome, and its supporters, who, finding
that the common weapons of reason and justice would not
suffice to crush reform, and that the common principles of
religion and morality could not be brought to bear against it
perverted both, more, if possible, than they had already perverted them in the iniquitous contest.
The act of Henry II., now about to be narrated, is the
first flagrant outrage against honor, the first open demonstra



1559.              BED OF JUSTICE.                  229
tion of Machiavelism, and may well mark the point of juncture between the two epochs,-the substitution of the law of
fraud for the law of honor.  The treaty between Philip and
Henry was not concluded without a solemn agreement between the monarchs, sufficiently unnecessary, indeed, considering their character, for extirpating heresy. The great
obstacle in Paris was the apathy or leniency of the parliament. Many of the members were supposed to favor the rcformation; but how were they to be discovered? The cardinal of Lorraine conceived a plan for this purpose. It by no
means bespoke a want of cunning. The only wonder is, how
he could persuade the king to become the instrument of such
baseness. But sacerdotal reasoning in such cases is conclusive.
Henry, accompanied by the great officers of his court, proceeded unexpectedly to the hall of parliament: he took his
seat, to the great astonishment of the members, and formed
what he called a bed of justice: he then, in a tone of the
utmost kindness and condescension, announced to them that
he came merely to ask the advice of.the sage members of his
parliament on an important matter, viz. a due treatment of
heresy. He urged all present to offer their several opinions.
They unsuspectingly obeyed him. Those of the highest consideration, the presidents Harlai, Seguier, and De Thou,
boldly and generously avowed their sentiments in favor of
toleration; professing at the same time their attachment to
tie faith of their fathers, but declaring that they deemed it
equally impolitic and unjust to punish the errors of thought
or the misgivings of conscience.  The zealots, on the other
hand, recommended persecution, and cried out for blood.
Two counsellors, however, excited most attention, by openly
avowing their predilection for the new opinions. These were
Louis Faur and Anne Dubourg. The latter complained, that
whilst men were dragged to the stake for simply praying to
their God, the orthodox were busied in blasphemy, perjury,
debauch, and adultery. The last words, though levelled at
the cardinal, were instantly referred to the king. His anger
instantly overcame his dissimulation. He ordered Montgomery, the captain of his guards, to arrest the two co:nsellors
and drag them to prison. The parliament saw the trap which
had been laid for them, and trembled. Faur and Dubourg
were both hanged. Several judges were arrested, while
others took flight.
A very short time after this, a festival took place in honor
of the late royal marriages.  A tournament was Henry's
chosen pastime, and one was prepared in the Rue St. Antoine
on this occasion. The king and the duke of Guise wer6




230              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1559.
among those who held the lists against all corners. They
were victorious. The monarch especially had signalized his
address, and no new adventurer appeared. Henry, however,
wished for more of the game, and according ordered Montgomery to break a lance with him. The stout captain obeyed.
The king and he ran together: their lances shivered in the
hock, when a splinter penetrating Henry's visor, inflicted a
deep wound over his left eye. He was immediately carried
to his palace, where he lingered for twelve days, and expired
on the 10th of July, 1559. Montgomery, the innocent cause
of the disaster, thought it prudent to fly. He was taken some
years after, and executed by the cruel Catherine of Medicis,
in most unjust retribution.
The character of Henry was neither so distinctly pronounced nor so peculiar as to require a delineation separate
from his reign. He wanted the splendid qualities of his parent, nor did he compensate for that want by more solid
qualities. In the bustle, the feats, and the reverses of the
reign of Francis, we are apt to overlook his policy, or forget
that he had any, until the reign of his son places in strong
contrast his prudence in maintaining the ascendency over his
ministers, and keeping himself superior to court intrigue.
Henry allowed himself to be so overcome and controlled by
favoritism and arrogance, that we can never look for causes
in his individual will or views. These were lost in the stronger
wills of the chiefs who surrounded him. He was more of a
bigot than Francis, as Philip was more of a bigot than Charles,
and for the same reason. The priesthood that had their part
in the education of the princes, inspired them from the cradle
with an abhorrence for heretics, which could not have been
acquired by their sires without being tempered with the experience of manhood. Yet Henry did not deal generally in
bloodshed like his father. The population of a whole province
was not extirpated in his reign. Even to his last mean and
culpable deceit, the bed of justice, he was absolutely forced
by the cardinal of Lorraine, "who held to him  such language," said Vieilleville, " such comminations of the ire of
God, that he esteemed himself already damned if he forebore
to go."




1559.          ACCESSION OF FRANCIS II.             231
CHAP. VIII.
1559-1574.
FRANCIS THE SECOND AND CHARLES THE NINTH.
IF the late king, of a character naturally masculine, was
overborne and nullified by the nobles his contemporaries, who
divided the court, it is not to be supposed that his son, Francis II., a youth of sixteen, could really hold much authority.
The thoughts of the young monarch were all centered ii his
lovely queen, Mary of Scotland, who, fond of gaiety and
pleasure, naturally transferred to her uncles of Guise and
Lorraine the influence pertaining to her new dignity: they,
in fact, became complete masters of king and kingdom.
Montmorency, received coldly, was allowed once more to retire to Chantilly. The duchess of Valentinois was also exiled;
her jewels and estates were confiscated in favor of Catherine
of Medicis, who, contented with this triumph over her rival,
did not yet dare to dispute the ascendency of Guise. The
neglect of the court that had weighed on the princes of the
blood, the king of Navarre and his brother of Conde, was now
aggravated by insult. The family were, however, of a tranquil, generous temper, brave indeed, but very unfit for conspiracies and for court intrigue. The king of Navarre was
apathetic and fond of ease; the prince of Conde was given to
pleasure. The nephews of Montmorency,-Coligny the admiral, and Dandelot, —were not of this pacific disposition:
they were indignant at their uncle's disgrace, and discontented at their own. Communicating their griefs to the
Bourbons, they stirred the dormant passions of those princes,
and imparted to them their own restless and ambitious spirit.
Conde, in particular, was won by Coligny, a man of a bold
and imposing character. They consulted how best they might
humble the Guises, and dispossess them of power: the malcontents were all inclined to the reformation, except Montmorency. They resolved to take advantage of this important
circumstance, and place themselves at the head of a religious
faction hostile to the court: this was unfortunate for France.
The cause of civil liberty had been betrayed and lost in the
reigns of Charles V. and VI. by the princes of the blood, who
put themselves at the head of the popular parties, and confounded the interests of the people with their own. Now
religious freedom was doomed to perish in the same manner.
Instead of being allowed to make gradual progress in the
public mind till it had assumed force to command respect and




232               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1560
conquer intolerance, it was prematurely excited to revolt by
the intrigues of discontented princes. A conspiracy against
royalty became the first act of Protestantism in France; and
thus hundreds of loyal subjects and rational minds were alienated from it, and their dislike was strengthened by prejudice.
The court, with some reason, henceforth declared against it
an eternal war.
Many of the noblesse had already joined the party of Coligny and of Conde, though the king of Navarre and the constable hesitated and held back. La Rochefoucault, Jarnac,
and the vidare de Chartres declared for them. An atrocious
impertinence on the part of the cardinal of Lorraine, opportunely occurring, swelled this band of foes to the Guises.
Tormented by demands, some for debts due, and some for
places promised, the all-powerful prelate in a fit of spleen
published a proclamation by sound of trumpet, ordering all
petitioners, of whatever rank, to quit Fontainebleau, where
the court then was, without delay, and this under pain of
being hanged. The cardinal, perhaps, meant to be facetious;
but the court instantly became a desert. The host of noble
suitors, proud though mendicant, could not forgive the threat,
and many joined the discontented.
The party had numerous meetings in the chateau of Vendome, and in other places. La Renaudie, a gentleman of Perigord, and an agent of Coligny, was employed by him to be
the ostensible leader. A meeting was secretly convened at
Nantes, where the Protestants and enemies of Guise united
to the number of 600, and took counsel together. It was
agreed to attack Blois, where the king then was, obtain possession of his person, and get rid of the odious Guises.
Amongst such a host of conspirators secrecy was almost impossible: the duke received warning of the plot, and removed
the court to the castle of Amboise. The cardinal of Lorraine
was terrified: he proposed to summon the ban and arriere
ban, and gather an army against the rebels. All the anxiety
of Guise, on the contrary, was, that his enemies should show
themselves; and for that purpose he affected confidence.
Coligny and Cond6 both repaired to Amboise, where Guise
received them without betraying the least mark of suspicion,
and he appointed them to different posts of defence about the
castle; each, however, watched by his own trusty partisans.
The rising had been appointed for the 15th of March: it
took place on the 16th: the baron of Castelnau seizing the
castle of Noize not far from  Amboise. La Renaudie was
marching to join him: they hoped to surprise the court; when
on a sudden the royal troops sent by Guise made their ap.




i560.              CIVIL DISSENSIONS.                233
pearance, attacked la Renaudie, slew  him, and besieged
Noize.
An amnesty was now published in the hope of allaying the
insurrection: but, as if in contempt of it, the chateau of
Amboise was attacked on that very night. All the vigilance
and valor of Guise were required to repel the rebels.  By
secret information he had time to prepare for them, and they
were routed.  The amnesty was revoked, and no mercy was
shown to the captives. Twelve hundred of them were hanged,
or otherwise dispatched: even Castelnau, who had surrendered on the faith of the duke of Nemours, was executed in
the presence of the court. In the confessions forced from
many by the torture, none of the real chiefs of the conspiracy
were mentioned except the prince of Cond&e  History is even
in doubt to decide if those chiefs were concerned in the attack: the Protestant party will not admit that they by this rash
and unwarrantable act produced the civil war. Conde was
brought to trial in presence of the court; he disdained to defend himself but as a knight. " Let my accuser appear," said
he, regarding Guise, "and I will prove upon him in single
combat, that he is the traitor, not I, and that he is the true
enemy of the king and of the monarchy." Guise rose to reply to this challenge: "I can no longer suffer these dark
suspicions to weigh upon so valiant a prince; I myself will
be his second in the combat against whoever accuses him."
Most of those present were as perplexed, as no doubt the
reader is, to comprehend this conduct in the duke of Guise.
Some called it chivalric generosity, others the perfection of
guile.
In the trouble excited by the conspiracy, the young king,
for the first time, manifested an opinion of his own. He was
shocked at finding himself the object of hatred, and he began
to mistrust the Guises. The queen-mother, Catherine, after
the example of her son, also took courage; and the chancellor
Oliver, as well as Vieilleville and other courtiers, joined her
party. Hence arose the first amnesty,-a concession on the
part of the Guises which was recompensed by the duke's appointment as lieutenant-general of the kingdom. The executions which followed, especially that of Castelnau, which
the court witnessed, shocked the princesses (the cardinal
Lorraine hoped that the sight of heretic blood would have
had an opposite effect), and they, with the young queen Mary,
flung themselves into the scale of mercy. Guise was unable
to resist this influence: he saw that the prince of Cond6 must
in consequence be released, and he sought to take to himself
fill credit for a generosity that was forced upon him. Here
then Catherine of Medicis0 for the first time, appears as the




234               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1560
leader of a party. Notwithstanding our prejudices against
her, she appears also, on this first occasion, as the supporter
of mercy.
The continued mistrust and independence of the Guises
shown on the part of the queen-mother and the young king
produced an assembly of notables, summoned soon afterwards
at Fontainebleau to take the affairs of the kingdom into consideration. In it the Protestant leaders, even prelates, spoke
openly the apology for reformation; and Coligny demanded
tolerance for the sectarians, relying upon the neutrality of
the court. Guise could no longer command his temper, as he
did at Amboise: mutual recrimination and menaces were
heard in the assembly of peace. Both parties struggled in
their discourses to convince the monarch of the justice and
expediency of their counsels; but the weakness and indecision of the court were at the same time seen by both; and
an appeal cof equal earnestness was made by them to the peo.
pie.  The Protestants continually cried oat for the statesgeneral, and a national council. And now the cardinal of
Lorraine forgot his nature so far as to join in the cry, and
make the same demand.  The independent attitude of the
queen rather forced the Guises to strengthen themselves by
popularity.
Such appear the true reasons why the states-general were
summoned to meet at Orleans, in October, 1560. Historians
in general perceive in them merely a snare to catch the Protestant chiefs. They served that purpose indeed, but they
had been already summoned ere Conde, just released, could
have recommenced his intrigues. The arrogance and boldness of the Protestants, and of Coligny, in the assembly of
notables at Fontainebleau, were revolting to Catherine and
Francis. Between August, when that assembly was held,
and October, the period for the assembling of the states, the
Guises had completely won the court to themselves, and regained their influence. The prince of Cond6 attempted during
that interval to seize Lyons, and convert it into a strong hold
of rebellion. He failed, however: and his traitorous enterprise became thoroughly known at court. Notwithstanding
this, the brothers of Bourbon, the king of Navarre, and the
prince, were induced to join the assembly of the states.
Though full of mistrust, they still ventured on the secret
favor or neutrality d Catherine, who joined in enticing them
to come. They were ill received by the king. Catherine was
troubled, and shed tears on beholding them, knowing them to
be victims betrayed by their confidence in her. The king's
mind had been filled with the bitterest calumnies against
them: he accused Cond6 of having attempted his life, and




1560.         ACCESSION OF CHARLES IX.              235
ended by committing that prince to prison. The king of Navarre instantly complained, and expostulated with the queenmother; but she could not now retract the consent she had
given, or unbend the mind of the young monarch. Cond6
was tried by a commission, and refusing to answer, was condemned to death. The day was appointed for the execution,
and Catherine of Medicis betrayed to all who approached the
agony and misgivings of her mind. Historians will maintain
that this sensibility on the part of Catherine was affected
they think, with Davila, that it would be a dishonor, or a
least an inconsistency, in the queen, that she should have felt
a.particle of the natural tenderness of her sex, even in the
commencement of her political career. I beg to think that
she was sincere in now wishing to save the life of Conde;
and fortune placed this in her power. The young king was
stricken with sudden illness, arising, it is supposed, from the
formation of an abscess in his head. The supreme authority
rested with the queen-mother. The Guises urged her to execute the sentence upon Conde; but she hesitated, and resolved to save him. She determined, however, to turn her mercy
to advantage; summoning the king of Navarre, she offered
to spare the life of his brother, provided he signed an agreement renouncing all claim  to the regency in case of the
young king's death. Navarre signed; and Francis II. expired
on the 5th of December, 1560.
Charles IX., a boy of ten years of age, now succeeded his
brother Francis.  Catherine of Medicis, according to her
promise, liberated the prince of Conde; and as the king of
Navarre, according to his promise, supported the queen's pretensions, she took upon her the office of regent. The Guises,
though shorn of their paramount influence, and mortified by
the escape of Conde, were still formidable as a party. To
make the balance more even, Catherine recalled to court the
veteran constable, Montmorency. Nothing could be more
successful or happy than the policy of this princess hitherto,
nor was it as yet made subservient to her own cruel measures:
her interest as well as that of the kingdom recommended to
her a middle course, between the extremes of contending
parties. This was a task that required infinite prudence, and
led to the necessary vices of dissimulation and guile: these,
combined with the measures of blood in which she was afterwards induced to join, have rendered her in the eyes of posterity a very monster of cruelty and deceit. Her enemies
have exaggerated their representations from hate; her friend
and secretary, Davila, has done the same from a preposterous
desire to raise the intellectual character of his mistress at
the expense of her moral worth. Whatever differences there




236               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1561
may be on this point, there can be none as to the talents of
Catherine: her choice of followers is an ample proof of them.
One of the first uses she made of her incipient influence was
to raise de l'H6pital to the chancellorship, against the wishes
of Guise; and when we record that this upright man was
now her friend and counsellor, the fact goes far to prove, that
she was not at this early stage such a demon of guile as she
has been represented.
There is no task more impracticable than that of holding
the balance between two zealofus and active parties. The
states now assembled leaned against the Guises. The king
of Navarre proposed, as a measure of offence, to extinguish
the debts of the crown, now  considerable, by resuming
the grants of the two last reigns. This blow was chiefly
aimed at the Guises, but it also reached the mareschal St.
Andre and the constable. Catherine in vain endeavored to
stifle the imprudent proposal. Montmorency was avaricious:
he felt himself in the same predicament with Guise, in being
forced to render up his acquisitions. Sympathy united them.
The constable abandoned the party of his nephews, and also
that of the reformation to which he ever had a repugnance;
and thus was formed of the constable, the mareschal, and
Guise, a triumvirate that disquieted.Catherine and menaced
the Protestants.  The queen immediately determined to
strengthen the Protestant side; and an edict appeared, granting them some slight favor, and substituting the plan of banishment for that of death in common cases of heresy. The
Guises, on their part, having secured the constable, and opened a communication with Spain, resolved no longer to trouble
themselves with petty court intrigue, but leaving Catherine
to pursue her own plans, wait till some flagrant blunder
of hers would afford them an opportunity to interfere with
advantage. The queen took the quiet and apparent content
of the Guises to be real. She proposed an accommodation
between the duke and Conde, which took place in form, the
princes separating as enemies no less bitter than before. The
queen then flattered herself that all went on admirably. In
concert with her counsellor, de l'H6pital, she pursued, and
sincerely pursued, the beneficent work of establishing religious
peace and toleration. The divines of both persuasions met
at Poissy. The cardinal of Lorraine and Theodore Beza disputed, and, as usual, separated each more bigoted than he
was when he came. A deputation from the different parliaments met at the same time at St. Germain. Under the influence of the chancellor, they approved of toleration; and,
strengthened by their approval, the government issued the
~mous edict of January, 1562, granting tolerance to tho




1561.           CIVIL WAR COMMENCED.                237
Huguenots, and allowing them to assemble outside the walls
of towns..
This was the signal for the Guises. They departed from
the capital in indignation, and retired to Lorraine, that they
might not be witnesses of the triumph of heresy. While
Catherine had been engaged in her philanthropic endeavors
at toleration, they were not idly employed in winning over
to their side the weak-minded king of Navarre.  Catherine,
on other occasions, had courted him, and long held him by the
charms of one of her maids of honor, a culpable mode of
influence much practised by the queen-mother. At the present conjuncture she could not have suspected that Anthony
of Bourbon, unfixed as he was in his religious opinions, could
desert his brother, his family, and the Huguenot party, with
which he had so long acted. But the promise of their restoring that part of Navarre beyond the Pyrenees, which Spain
had conquered, was held out by the Guises and Philip; and
the king was dupe enough to trust to it.
The two parties were by this time excited throughout
France to the highest pitch of mutual exasperation. Already
numbers of petty insurrections, skirmishes, murders,-the
usual preludes to civil war,-had occurred. The court having
retired to the queen's country-house of Monceaux, the duke
of Guise determined to try the pulse of the Parisian population; and for that purpose set out thither. During his journey
an event occurred, which fell like a spark upon the combustible minds of the Huguenots, and served as a signal for
war. In passing through the little town of Vassy, on the
borders of Champagne, at an hour when the Protestants were
assembled, outside the walls according to the edict, in prayer,
the duke felt especially indignant; his suite partook of his
resentment, and began to insult the crowd. From insults,
blows ensued. The duke ran to quell or to see the disturbance, and was struck in the cheek. The sight of his blood
called forth fresh anger on the part of his followers: troops
joined him; and a massacre of the unfortunate inhabitants
of Vassy took place, which the duke was either unable or
unwilling to stop. The Protestants were aroused by accounts
of this event. They began, however, by sending a deputation to the queen. The king of Navarre, in his stupid zeal,
insulted them, and excused the massacre. Theodore Beza
answered him, with a happy allocution, "that the Protestants, if they could not defend themselves, had, at least, the
strength to endure; and that religious liberty was an anvil
which had worn out many hammers."
The entry of the duke of Guise excited the greatest en
thusiasn amnong the Parisians. They declared with one voice




238               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1561
against the Huguenots; and he was now assured that Catholic
opinion would find a fortress in the capital. Their demonstrations of zeal were so extreme, that Catherine of Medicis
thought it best to retire to Melun, and thence to Fontainebleau. But even here she was not safe. The triumvirate
marched to Fontainebleau, and brought back the king and the
queen-mother to Paris. The prince of Conde at the news took
possession of Orleans, summoned his partisans, and made
that town the head-quarters of the Huguenots, as the capital
was of the Catholics. In the south and west of France, the
Huguenots had the advantage: these provinces declared for
them. The superiority of the Catholics consisted in the
possession of the king, the capital, and the greater part of
the regular troops. There was still a hesitation in commencing the war. Catherine, who clung tenaciously to power,
and who, in order to retain it, now joined, or affected' to
join, the triumvirate, tried to negotiate with Conde. The
prince was weak enough to listen to her; but his followers
would not allow of his becoming a dupe. Dandelot uttered
a piece of advice, that right be true of any quarrels save
religious disputes. "We can never be friends with the
Catholics," said he, "till we fight our quarrel out." Unhappily, it was not by combat, but by massacre, that the war
commenced. The Huguenots took Beaugenci, and committed
every atrocity: their enemies retaliated; and thus a religious
war at once assumed all that savage character which usually
distinguishes it, At the same time the prince of Conde, to
counterbalance the aid which Philip of Spain now openly held
out to the Guises, concluded a treaty with queen Elizabeth,
to whom he delivered Havre-de-Grace in return for a corps
of 6000 men.
The Catholics opened the campaign in the autumn witn
the siege of Rouen, where Montgomeri commanded. The
chiefs would not lose sight of Catherine and the king, who
accordingly accompanied them; and the queen, surrounded
by gaiety and beauty, showed every sign of contentment and
zealous orthodoxy. The town was vigorously attacked and
gallantly defended.  Many women of the Protestants were
slain. In one of the assaults, Anthony of Bourbon, king of
Navarre, received a wound which proved mortal. This weak
prince, slain in the ranks of the Catholics, left an infant son,
who, under the care of his mother, Jeanne d'Albret, was
reared to be the support and glory of the Protestant cause.
This infant was the future Henry IV. Rouen at length
surrendered.  Montgomeri escaped; but ten of the principal
Huguenot inhabitants were executed.  Conde used reprisals




1561               BATTLE OF DREUX.                  239
at Orleans; and thus the parties warred, each spilling blood
upon scaffolds of its own erection.
The prince, however, having received a reinforcement of
7000 Germans under his brother Dandelot, at length marched
out'of Orleans.  IIe first insulted the capital, burning the
villages in its vicinity, and then turned towards Normandy,
in order to draw near to the English. He was followed by
the constable; and the first battle was fought on the 19th of
December, at Dreux.'he principal force of Conde was in
cavalry, his infantry being chiefly Germans,-a circumstance
which indicates that it was among the middling class, or the
wealthy burgesses, that the soldiers of the reformation were
recruited. Vieilleville corroborates this. The royal army
was composed chiefly of infantry, in number about 18,000,
and in this respect superior to the enemy.  The two armies
contemplated each other for a considerable time, till at last
Conde, with the courage of a captain, but with none of the
method or foresight of the general, fell upon the main body
under the constable. He routed it after an obstinate struggle,
in which the Swiss, of whom it was chiefly composed, rallied
at each opportunity. The constable, however, was taken,
and led off the field,-Guise, who was on the right, never
moving to his succor. The duke waited until the Huguenots
were completely wearied and exhausted with the resistance
of the Swiss, and then advanced with his fresh division to
restore the action. This he effected with the utmost success.
The undisciplined cavalry of Cond6 were in total disorder;
Guise swept them before him, and took the prince prisoner.
The admiral Coligny made good his retreat, however, with
the Germans, and rallied the fugitives. The mareschal St.
Andre, in endeavoring to harass him, was taken and slain.
The singularity of the battle of Dreux was, that each of the
two generals became prisoner to the opposite party. Guise
gained both ways; not less by the removal of the, constable,
whose rank entitled him always to the superior command, than
by the captivity of Conde. This prince was treated with
the utmost generosity by his rival: they shared the same
tent, the same bed; and while Cond6 remained wakeful from
the strangeness of his position, Guise, he declared, enjoyed
the most profound sleep. There were, indeed, heroic traits
about the duke of Guise, that mark him to have been naturally of a generous and noble disposition. It appears that,
especially when in arms and away from  his brother, he
could shake off the hard-heartedness, the guile, and even the
ambition, which in the cabinet rose to stifle every better
quality. But we are now engaged with scenes and men that
would demand, if full justice were to be done to them, the




240               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 15C3.
amplest page of history. Guise followed up his victories by
laying siege to Orleans. While he was engaged in reducing
this strong' hold of his enemies, a Huguenot gentleman named
Poltrot treacherously shot the duke with his pistol.  He
lingered nine days, and expired with exemplary fortitude and
piety. Ile was a brave and great man, with such power of
nerve and concentrated pride, that, notwithstanding his
equivocal rank in France, the stern constable himself and the
princes of the blood quailed before him.  His virtues were
his own; his vices those of his party. The death and captivity of the chiefs on both sides, Coligny excepted, necessarily brought on an accommodation. Peace was declared; and
the edict of Amboise, issued in March, 1563, granted full
liberty of worship to the Protestants within the towns of
which they were in possession up to that day. Thus ended
the first religious war, which, in addition to the events we
have recorded, deluged the entire south of France with the
blood of the contending parties.
The conclusion of peace restored Catherine of Medicis to
the supreme authority. In order to exercise it under a less
invidious title than that of regent, the parliament of Rouen,
by her order, declared king Charles, now thirteen years of
age, to have attained his majority. Reared by the crafty and
prudent Catherine, he early acquired, in perfection, the power
of dissimulation; but he never imbibed that utter indifference to both religious parties which distinguished his mother,
and which allowed her to consult her own interest or the
public good in leaguing with either, or in balancing and alternating between them.  On the contrary, Charles, thrown
among the Catholic party at an age when a bias is soon and
strongly gained, amidst the bustle of war and of a camp,
which pleased him, soon imbibed the zeal of the partisans of
Guise.  He had the sagacity to perceive that orthodoxy was
much more favorable than the doctrines of the reformers to
his kingly authority. A worse effect on his character was
produced by sights of cruelty; for at this tender age he beheld the atrocities practised on the Protestants at the siege
of Rouen, and during the campaign.  The young king was
thus led to adopt, in his sober counsels, the sanguinary measures that the heat of war engendered, but could not excuse.
This decision of her son in favor of the Catholics, had a
very great influence in finally drawing over Catherine to that
party.  Other causes also impelled her: the Catholics were
without leaders; there was a place, therefore, for her at their
head: and, in a little time, the pope and Philip of Spain both
declared so strongly against the Protestants, that the queen
was driven, fiom a principle of self-preservation, to adopt the




1564.             EDICT OF ROUSSILLON.                 241
winning side. This abandonment of her impartiality, Catherine, however, delayed as long as it was in her power. After
the conclusion of peace, she endeavored to soothe Conde, and
win him over to moderate demands; thus preparing the way
for an accommodation. Conde was a man of pleasure, prone
to indolence, in which he gladly indulged whenever an interval occurred in war or in business. Catherine held out to
him her usual bait, the charms of her maids of honor; and
Cond6 loitered, like another Rinaldo, in the toils of this Arnida, until the ministers of the reformed religion recalled
him from licentiousness and compelled him to marry. These
stern disciplinarians were said to have hanged one of their
flock for the crime of adultery. This alone was enough to
alienate the courtiers of France and the demoiselles of Catherine.
The edict of Amboise had not long been issued, when a
modification of it was found necessary.  That edict had,llowed to the Protestants the celebration of their worship in
towns which they possessed. It was found that several bishops and clergy, construing its terms in their favor, had established the new rites in their cathedrals and churches. This
would have outraged the pope and the Catholic princes. Indeed, notwithstanding the clamors of the Protestants, so great
a concession was not to be expected; and accordingly the
privilege was withdrawn.  The ancient cathedrals were not
allowed to become temples of the reformed religion.  New
differences consequently arose: the Guises accused Coligny
of instigating the murder of the duke; and the admiral arrived to answer the charge with his suite, which almost
amounted to an army. Either Catherine or Charles himself
took this opportunity of increasing the usual royal guard of
100 Swiss, into upwards of 1000 men.  The old constable
came to instigate the Parisians, and a tumult ensued, in which
lives were lost.
In the following year, 1564, the young king resolved on
making a progress through his dominions, especially in the
south.  The cardinal of Lorraine went to Rome at the same
time, and Charles was met at Bayonne by his sister, the
queen of Spain, and the duke of Alva.  This meeting, in
which the minister of Philip communicated the views of his
master, completed in the mind of Charles his hatred of the
refrrnation, and instructed him concerning the means by
which it might be eventually crushed. The edict of Roussillon,* which appeared while the court was in the south, im* It was this edict which ordered that the year should commence on the.
Ist of Januarv, instead of, as heretofore, commenecing at Easter.




242               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1567
posed new restrictions on the toleration granted by that of
Armboise; so that, as Pasquier observes, "edicts took more
from the Protestants in peace than force could take from them
in war."  The Huguenots, therefore, despairing of impartiality or justice from the court, began already to look forward
to another struggle.
During this state of things, an assembly of notables was
held at Moulins.  Catherine, who, notwithstanding her sagacity, very often mistook the form for the reality, insisted
on a public reconciliation between the Guises and Coligny.
It took place at her bidding; the cardinal and the admiral
embraced; but young Henry, duke of Guise, showed even
there, by his cold and mistrustful demeanor, that his first ideas
were those of vengeance and hatred. It was in this assembly, that the chancellor de l'H6pital proposed his improvements in the administration of justice. Whilst all others,
prince, noble, and functionary, were absorbed in the spirit of
religious party, de l'Hopital alone, professing at once Catholicism and tolerance, but unable to obtain attention, followed
the unambitious track of judicial amelioration.
Religious troubles, similar to those of France, began to
agitate the Low Countries. Philip, resolving to present a
high example to France, established the inquisition among
his Belgic subjects in all its rigor; and as this only made
matters worse, the duke of Alva was dispatched to those
provinces with an army in 1567. The French court affected
to fear this force, and raised an army as if against it. When
the duke of Alva, however, appeared on the frontiers of
France, he was treated as a friend; and the Huguenots immediately perceived that the troops were levied, not for the
defence of the kingdom, but for the oppression of themselves.
They accordingly leagued and armed in secret, determined
to meet the perfidy of the court with correspondent guile.
Their consultations ended in a project to surprise the court
at Monceaux, and get possession of the king. It failed, however, as the similar plot had previously failed at Amboise,
through the postponement of a single day. The queen had
warning; the Swiss were summoned; and the court retired
to Meaux, and from thence to Paris, pursued and menaced
by the disappointed Conde.
Thus commenced the second religious war, in September,
1567.  "Catherine," says Henault, "caused the first civil
strife by favoring the reformers, and the second by irritating
them." She was now at least zealously hostile to them. She
had been provoked by the numerous calumnies and libels
which the Huguenots directed against her, and she cordially
joined in the opinions of her young son, and of his and her




t567.            SECOND RELIGIOUS WAR.               243
ally, Philip. She no longer sought an habitual adviser in the
moderate de l'H6pital, who was of opinion that the reformers
were unfairly treated. The chancellor always asserted their
loyalty.  After their attempt to surprise Meaux, the queen
asked de l'Hopital-" ATould he now answer that their sole
aim was to serve the king' " —"Yes, madam," replied he,'if you assure me that they will be treated with good faith."
Conde took up his quarters at St. Denis.  The Catholics,
under Montmorency, were posted at La Chapelle, a village
that is now the suburb of Paris on that side. The constable
wished as usual to procrastinate, but the impatience of the
Parisians forced him to attack. The battle was fought in the
plain of St. I)enis: it began with a cannonade; but the Huguenots, to avoid the destructive effects of the artillery,
charged the Parisians furiously, and routed them. Their
flight left the constable unsupported; Cond6 turned on him
his victorious cavalry, and Montmorency defended his position, when Stuart, the captain of the Scotch company in the
service of the Huguenots, coming up close to the constable,
against whom he had cause of hate, fired his pistol and shot
him.  A furious and confused melee, somewhat like an Homeric fight, immediately took place around the dead body of
the constable-the Huguenots with savage zeal seeking to
carry it off. They were beaten, however, and driven from
the field in the attempt. Thus fell, in civil strife, and engaged against his own nephews, the veteran warrior of
France.  His years, his hardihood, and his name, have rendered him deservedly celebrated.  His defence of Provence
against Charles V. is particularly memorable. By French
historians he is characterized in terms of the highest encomium: they commend his sternness, his courage, his orthodoxy, and forget that avarice and selfishness sullied and almost neutralized each of his virtues.
The constable's death was a victory to Conde, who was
able to offer battle to the Catholics on the following day. He
denied having lost that of St. Denis. Young Charles, who
was witness to a dispute on this point, asked Vieilleville —' who had won the battle?"- " Neither Catholic nor Protestant," responded the mareschal; " it is the king of Spain who
has won by our discord."  The Huguenots had neither pay
nor provisions, and were therefore obliged to quit the vicinage
of Paris, directing their course across Lorraine towards the
frontier of Germany, as they expected a body of auxiliaries
from that country. They were pursued, but not much harassed
in their retreat. Catherine endeavored incessantly to decoy
them into negotiations, the department of warfare which she
Celt herself most competent to direct. She restrained the
16




244               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1568
warlike disposition of the king; arguing with truth, that,
from the violent animosities of the time, the leaders of armies
marched to meet a certain fate, either in battle or at the hand
of the assassin.  The king's brother, Henry duke of Anjou,
was created lieutenant-general. Catherine, who knew the
weak and yielding nature of her second son, would gladly
have made him the hero of the Catholic party in preference
to young Guise, whose name she dreaded.
After much privation, during a march in winter, the Hu.
guenots fell in with their German auxiliaries; and as they
now outnumbered their enemies, they marched back into
France.  They laid siege to Chartres, which, being stoutly
defended, kept the army fixed before it, and gave the queen
full opportunity for employing her favorite efforts at negotiation.  Coligny saw plainly the perfidy of these overtures;
but their followers and supporters, anxious for peace, obliged
them to listen to terms. A treaty was concluded at Longjumeau, in March, called the Lame Peace, as well from its infirm and uncertain nature, as from the accidental lameness
of its two negotiators. Its terms were a medium between
the edict of Amboise and that of Roussillon.
The peace was, as Coligny already saw, but a trap to ensnare the Huguenot chiefs as soon as their army should be
disbanded.  They were on their guard, however, keeping
away from the court, and far apart from each other, that at
least one might escape in case of treason. Notwithstanding
this resolve, Conde and the admiral found it necessary to consult together, and for this purpose met at Noyers, a little
town in Burgundy. The court was soon informed of it; and
orders were instantly dispatched to Tavannes, and to the
other governors in the south, to arrest them. Tavannes was
not vigilant in the execution of their commands, and Cond6
and Coligny escaped. By this order, the queen had thrown
off the mask; though, indeed, without such an indication,
the executions and murders throughout the south sufficiently
proved that the lame peace was never intended to be observed
by the Catholics. Through inconceivable difficulties, the two
chiefs traversed the country, and reached Rochelle in safety
where the Protestants now found themselves obliged, for the
third time, to raise the standard of revolt. Troops did not
fail to join them from all quarters; but the most welcome aid
came from Bearn, the queen of Navarre and her young son
arriving at the head of 3000 of their subjects.
This young prince, destined to run so glorious a career,
was born at Pan, in 1553. His father was Anthony of Bour
be i, king of Navarre, slain at the siege of Rouen. Chroniclers
never forget to relate, that his mother sung at the birth, and




1568.             HENRY OF NAVARRE.                  245
that old Henri d'Albret, the infant's grandfather, held up the
child in delight, rubbing its lips with garlic, and moistening
them with wine. Excepting a short period spent at court,
the boy lived the rude and healthy life of a mountaineer, and
imbibed from his mother the rigid principles of the reformation. It was in September, 1568, that he accompanied her
to Rochelle.
As if to add to the horrors of civil war, winter was always
chosen as the period of operations.  The duke of Anjou was
at the head of the Catholic army, with the mareschal Tavannes for his adviser.  When Condt  and the Huguenots approached, the cold was so extreme as to chill the zeal of both
armies.  They found it impossible to engage in battle.  Mutual pillage, and cruelties too horrid in many instances for
the pen to record, were the only feats of the soldiery. During
the inaction that ensued (for the winter grew to that extreme
rigor which is seldom known even in France), numbers of
the Huguenots' army dispersed: the burgesses and volunteers, of whom'it was principally composed, each betook himself to his own home. The Catholic troops, on the contrary,
were soldiers by profession, paid and disciplined. Hence, in
the spring, Cond6 was far inferior in force to his enemies, before whom he was obliged to retire towards Rochelle. In his
retreat, the prince, having crossed the Charente, took post at
Jarnac, determined to keep the river between himself and
the enemy, and to dispute his passage. The duke of Anjou,
however, succeeded, by rapid marches and feigned attacks, in
deceiving the vigilance of the prince; and, passing the Charente on the morning of the 16th of March, attacked with
26,000 men the Huguenots, who did not exceed 15,000. At
the first intelligence that the duke had passed the river, the
retreat was ordered. Conde was already a league distant,
with half the army: Coligny was following, but waited too
long for some stray companies of horse. The consequence
was, that he was attacked by an overwhelming force of cavalry. The battle here began between the chiefs on either
side, who singled each other out. Dandelot seized Monsalez,
the leader of the Catholics, knocked his visor up, and shot
him. La Noue, a Huguenot captain, the celebrated writer of
the "Discours," was taken, and, as no quarter was given,
escaped with difficulty. Conde, in the mean time, hearing
the sounds of an action already engaged, checked the retreat,
and, leaving his infantry to follow, galloped with his cavalry
to support the admiral.  But by this time the whole army of
the Catholics had come up; and the Protestants had no alternative but to die valiantly.  The prince of Conde, inspired
with this sentiment, was preparing for a charge, when a kick




246               HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1565
From the horse uf one of his officers broke his leg. He stifled
the exclamation of pain, charged with his troops, and was
overthrown in the struggle. He continued in the midst of
the enemy, defending himself, thoughl fallen, until a captain
of the duke of Anjou's guard shot him with a pistol.
The Protestants lost the battle and their chief. Their infantry, which Conde had left behind, and which had not
fought, now covered the retreat, and served to rally the party.
The loss of the prince threatened to prove more serious than
that of the army, the independent captains and nobles refusing to obey Coligny. The courage of Jeanne d'Albret,
queen of Navarre, opportunely contributed to the relief of
her party. She brought them funds; stimulated them by the
example of a woman's intrepidity; and leading her son,
prince Henry, accompanied by his cousin the young prince
of Conde, amidst the Huguenot chiefs, she exclaimed, " Despair not: behold the new chief that Heaven has sent to command you!" They caught her enthusiasm, and acknowledged
Henry of Bourbon as their new leader.
An army of Germans soon after entered France under the
duke of Deux-Ponts. This called the attention of the Catholics, and divided their forces. King Charles was already
jealous of his brother, the duke of Anjou, for the laurels he
was gaining, and for the favor shown to him by the queenmother. The cardinal flattered these feelings of jealousy;
and one half of the court was thus employed in counteracting
the exertions of the other. The duke of Anjou, in consequence,
was unable to follow up his victory; nor was the march of
the Germans arrested. In a sharp combat that took place at
La Roche-Abeille, the Huguenots had the advantage. They
were exasperated by the knowledge that a body of papal troops
had come to swell the royalist army. Their fury and eagerness to welcome the papists made then victorious, and at
the same time merciless: they gave the Italians no quarter.
It was here that young Henry of Navarre was first allowed
to mingle in the combat. After this check, the Catholics determined on a singular measure,-that of throwing strong
garrisons into the neighboring towns, and disbanding the
rest of the army, with orders to reassemble in October. I
was now but July. Want of funds might have been one of
their motives; but the principal reason was, perhaps, to avoid
another battle until the German auxiliaries had worn out the
resources of the Huguenots and their own patience, and had
followed the ordinary custom  of such troops, by returning
homewards.
These measures of the court obliged Coligny to undertake
a siege, now almost the only mode of carrying on the war




1569.         BATTLE OF MONTCONTOUR.                 244
He was averse to it, and would rather have made a bold
march toward the capital; but the noblesse of the province
compelled him to lay siege to Poitiers. The young duke of
Guise had thrown himself into the town, and the besiegers
soon found that he had determined to emulate his father in
the celebrated defence of Metz. An epidemic disorder began
to ravage the Huguenot army; and even the life of the admiral, the last resource of his party (Dandelot having been
dead some months), was threatened by it. IIe was at length
forced to raise the siege.
The army of the duke of Anjou reassembled at the appointed time. It was fresh, healthy, and superior in numbers
to that of the Huguenots. The purpose of Coligny was to
avoid a battle; but, as had been foreseen by their enemies,
the German troops had by this time grown weary of the service, and, with a view of concluding the war, or of finding a
pretext to desert it, they demanded to be led to battle. The
Catholics were pressing upon them, and there had been a
sharp skirmish on the preceding night. In obedience to the
will of his army, Coligny turned and faced the enemy in the
plains of Montcontour. An action took place; a confused and
headlong fight, in which all the duties of a general, save that
of valor, were set aside and forgotten. There was a single
combat between Coligny and a German leader called the
Rheingraf. He shot away part of the jaw of the admiral, who
slew his adversary. Such was the exasperation, that the servants and suttlers of the Huguenot camp mingled in the ranks,
or rather in the press, and fought. The Catholics were too
strong and too disciplined for their enemies. They defeated
them, drove them from the field, and remembering RocheAbeille, slaughtered without offering quarter.
This was the fourth battle lost by the Protestants. It shook
their constancy and courage; and at St. Jean d'Angeli, where
the wreck of the army rallied, thoughts were universally entertained of at length submitting to the authority of the king,
and to the yoke of the Catholics. The indomitable spirit of
Coligny, however, roused his party. Wounded as he was, he
could still enumerate the resources that remained: the cavalry, that had escaped with little loss from Montcontour; the
army with which Montgomeri had just reduced Beam; and
also the aid of foreign powers; above all, of England, with
whose support Rochelle, the principal strong hold of the
Huoguenots, was impregnable. The eloquence of Coligny was
convincing; his fortitude shamed away all thoughts of submission; and, retreating farther into the south, the Protestants
snowed themselves as formidable in defeat as in victory.
Thr' royalists dil not pul'sue their advantage with vizor




248               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1569
The new success of the duke of Anjou rekindled the jealousy of Charles. The monarch joined the army, set aside the
duke of Anjou from  the command, and sent his partisan
Tavannes to the insignificant government of Boulogne. Instead of pursuing the admiral, the Catholics weakened themselves through the very fault which he had committed in the
preceding summer, by engaging their force in sieges. They
invested St. Jean d'Angeli. The petty fortress held out for
the space of two months; and, instead of being able to reduce Rochelle, la Noue, the Huguenot governor of that town,
was able to make conquests and gain partial victories. La
Noue, on one of these occasions, sustained the loss of one
arm, which obliged him to use an iron hook for holding his
bridle, and he thence acquired the name of Bras de Fer.
From  the small results of this year's campaign, in which
he had gained two decisive victories without in any sensible
degree checking the progress of the reformation, Charles
began to perceive that war was ineffectual, and that it was a
vain hope to reduce the religious malcontents by force. To
pardon, or grant them tolerance, was foreign to his envious
and malicious temper as well as repugnant to his bigot principles. The only means left were to recur to the favorite
policy of the queen-mother, that of negotiating with the
Huguenots, concluding a treaty, affecting reconciliation, and
artfully getting possession of the persons of all the chiefs.
Davila says that Catherine impressed this advice upon her sor.
at this juncture, on perceiving that the Montmorency family
were wavering, and already meditating a desertion of the
party of the court for that of the admiral. Most historians
assign to Charles another counsellor in these matters; this
was an Italian, Alberto Gondi, count de Retz, whom the queen
had placed about the person of the young monarch, and who
failed not to instil into him those Machiavelian principles,
that were considered in his country as including the only
honorable maxims, the only rules of action worthy of the
statesman. In this he most probably went beyond the wishes
of Catherine; for Gondi cordially joined the king in his
jealousies and suspicions against his mother.
Events soon occurred to render the crooked policy meditated
by Charles more necessary. Coss6-Brissac, commanding the
Ca'.nolics, was beaten by Coligny, who, avoiding the fatal
measure of a siege, advanced upon the capital. The veteran
admiral was by this time weary of the war; he was sick of
shedding the blood of his fellow-countrymen; his avowed object was peace-a treaty in which the rights of the French
Protestants should be guarantied, and which, allowing them
to ioin their arms to those of their Catholic bretllren, migh?




1570.        TREATY WITH TIE HUGUENOTS.               249
open an opportunity for gaining victories over a foreign enemy,
instead of those which now, whatever side claimed or won
them, were equally disastrous to France. An envoy from the
court found Coligny disposed to entertain these sentiments.
The terms he had to offer were favorable in the highest degree.  However the suspicions of the admiral might be
awakened by this facility of concession, he had no pretext for
showing them. If Catherine of Medicis had recurred to her
former plan of entrapping the chiefs of the Huguenots, who
now remained of them but he? It was selfishness, then, and
personal timidity, in Coligny to object on this account. The
treaty was, in consequence, concluded. Amnesty and liberty
of conscience were granted to the Protestants: their worship
was allowed in all towns held by them during the war, and,
at any rate, in two towns of each province; and they were
allowed to preserve and garrison four strong places in the
kingdom, viz. Rochelle, Montauban, Cognac, and La Charite,
as guarantees that these conditions would be observed. Such
was the treaty signed in August, 1570. It is impossible to
suppose that Charles could have granted, as.his mother advised, such terms, especially the last of them, without some
secret determinations of vengeance. After the victories of
the preceding year,-the late defeat of Brissac, which had
led to negotiations, might have been itself an artifice,-such
concessions would be utterly inconsistent with the known
sagacity of those who made them, unless we suppose that
their intention was to cover the perfidious designs that were
approaching their maturity. Anquetil asserts that the admiral manifested entire confidence; and adds, that he, immediately after the peace, retired with the queen and the prince
of Navarre, to Rochelle. He could not have given a stronger
proof of mistrust.
The object of the court was not peace, but vengeance.
To draw the Protestant leaders to the capital became the
principal effort of policy. To entice the queen of Navarre an
ample pretext was found. It was proposed that her son
Henry should espouse Margaret, the king's sister, which
marriage would in itself be a bond of union between the parties. To Coligny Charles held.out what- he knew to be the
darling project of the admiral,-a war against Spain, undertaken by the French of both religions, for the purpose of annexing the ancient fief of Flanders to the crown. The queen
of Navarre was mistrustful: she abhorred taking a wife for
her son from amidst so corrupt a court. Still she hesitated
to refuse so high an offer: she came to negotiate. Catherine
of Medicis lavished all her smiles, made use of all her cajoleries, in vain. Her power of address and artifice failed before




250               HISTORY OF 1FANCE.                157T
the stern and conscientious doubts of Jeanne of Navarre.
This princess died after a short illness, and the objections
raised by her ceased to be urged. The Protestant writers do
not doubt that she was poisoned; no proof; however, corroborates the suspicion.
Coligny in the past troublesome times had appeared as the
valiant though often unsuccessful soldier, full of resources
and never more formidable than when overwhelmed by defer 
or surprise.  Still we might have mistaken him for a zealot.
for one of those fiery spirits born but to breathe the atmosphere of civil strife, had not his later days shown him the
patriot, sacrificing self-interest to the public weal, forgetting
his just suspicions in his love of peace, and only meditating
how the disgrace of intestine war might be obliterated by the
glory of foreign conquests.  There is even an admixture of
romance in his life. A noble lady of Savoy became enamored
of his heroism, and escaped to espouse him. By this she lost
her rich possessions, which were confiscated.  Neither she
nor Coligny showed regret at the loss. He gave his daughter
at the same time to Teligny, a gallant young soldier, who
had fought under his own eyes, but who possessed neither
birth nor fortune. Full of his schemes of' wresting Flanders
from Philip II., Coligny appeared at court, and was received
by Charles as a son might receive a forgiving parent:-" My
father," said the perfidious young monarch, in a tone that did
not betray the real irony of the expression, "we hold you
now, and you shall not escape us."
Coligny was in fact treated as the father of the court: the
king consulted him on every occasion, while young Guise, his
uncle of Lorraine, and their party, concealed their disgrace,
and affected the deepest resentment against Charles.  So
perfect was the dissimulation, and so profoundly played was
the game, that the Catholic historians, who wish to excuse or
palliate the atrocity of Charles, have room to pretend that he
was really won over by the noble bearing and the patriotic
views of Coligny; and that the Guises and Catherine, afraid
of the admiral's influence, forced the young monarch into the
conspiracy against him. There is an absurdity in the supposition, whether it be regarded generally, or examined in detail, There could be no object in enticing Coligny to court,
except that act of vengeance through which his enemies
Eoped "by one fell swoop" to get rid of him and his principal
adherents. The Spanish war, which served as a pretext,
could never have been sincerely meditated, tand was evidently
a rumor, intended to last for a short time, until the catastrophe
should occur by which it was to be dissipated.
The pope, however, was really deceived by the amicable




1572.            COLIGNY MURDERED.                 2f  X
bearing of Charles towards the Huguenots, by the inexplicable
lenity of the treaty, and above all, by the marriage. The
legate expostulated with the French king, who was embarrassed how to frame a reply, not daring to betray his intentions. " I wish to Heaven, cardinal, that I could tell you all,"'
were the words of Charles; " but you and the pope shall soon
know how beneficial this marriage shall prove to the interests
of religion. Take my word for i;, in a little time the holy
father shall have reason to praise my designs, my piety, and
my zeal in behalf of the faith."
The ill-omened marriage at length took place. Coligny
went not without warnings: he pretended to have good reasons for his confidence, and accused the mistrustful of folly.
"I would rather save myself with the fools," said Langoiran
"then die with such sage people." The admiral remained,
and was present at the wedding of the prince of Navarre with
the princess Margaret on the 17th of August.  Festivities of
the utmost splendor followed the ceremony. Catherine of
Medicis showed her taste and ingenuity in them at the very
time that a murder was planning. On the 21st, as the admiral
was proceeding home on foot from the Louvre, an arquebuss,
discharged at him from a window, wounded him dangerously
in two places. He was nevertheless able to reach his residence. It was evident who was the immediate instigator of
the murder. The assassin was known to be Maurevel, one
who had been before employed to shoot Mouy, a Huguenot
general. The shot was fired from the house of one attached
to the duke of Guise.
When the king was informed of the event, he exclaimed,
"Shall I never be left in repose?" He paid no attention to
the duke of Guise, with whom he was at the moment playing,
and who had no doubt by his orders planned the mode of putting to death the admiral. Charles had hoped that the murder of Coligny would have roused the Huguenots to take
instant vengeance upon Guise, and that in the tumult his
troops, aided by the Parisians, would soon master them in the
moment of insurrection, to which he could easily affix the
appearance of treason. Thus the king would be rid of the
importunate chiefs of both parties. But the admiral wounded
and not killed was the worst that could happen. His indignant followers might retire with him, and recommence the
civil war. This was to be prevented at all hazards. Charles
undertook to soothe Coligny: he visited him, expressed the
utmost resentment at the murderous attempt, and vowed to
take vengeance on the perpetrators when he should discover
them. "To discover them cannot be difficult," replied the
admiral, coolly.




252               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1572
Whatever had been the plans of the king and of Catherine,
it. was evident that something had gone wrong in them.
Their aim had been to get rid of their enemies, yet escape
the odium.  It now became necessary to brave the.odium,
and execute the essential part of the project, if they wcold
not run the risk of frustrating the object of all their negotiations, concessions, and treachery. In a consultation, therefore, held by Charles with his brother the duke of Anjou, the
Guises, and Catherine, a general massacre of the Huguenots
was decided on. The queen-mother was for slaying merely
the seven or eight leading chiefs; but Charles, who had
hitherto hesitated, at once became furious with the foretaste
of blood, and ordered an indiscriminate slaughter.. This was
but too congenial with the sanguinary spirit of the Guises,
who undertook the execution.  Tavannes was charged to
muster the city guards on the appointed night, and instruct
them in the task and the order of slaughter.
The eve of St. Bartholomew, the 24th of August, was the
night appointed. The prince of Navarre and the prince of
Cond6 were the only Protestants to be spared: yet Charles,
on observing the young count de la Rochefoucault, whom he
liked, about to leave the Louvre, laid his hand upon him, and
besought him  to stay that night at the palace.  The count
refused: the king entreated; but fearing to awaken suspicion, he abandoned his friend to his fate. All was wakeful
that night in the Louvre.  The orders were issued; and
Charles, restless and agitated, watched the hours in horrible
suspense. The queen-mother and the duke of Anjou were
with him. The latter has left a record of the moment, and
describes the stunning effect of the first pistol-shot that broke
the stillness of the night. Guise and his band of cut-throats
rushed out at the sound towards their appointed prey, whilst
the tocsin of St. Germain l'Auxerrois called the Catholic
citizens to the massacre of their brethren.
Guise soon reached the admiral's abode, and forced his
way in, crying, " To death! to death!" but feared himself to
face Coligny. It was Breme, a German follower of the
duke's, who rushed up stairs, and entering an apartment,
beheld a venerable man engaged in prayer. "Is't thou who
art Colignyl" asked the assassin.  "It is I," replied the
admiral: "young man, respect my gray hairs."  Breme, for
answer, plunged his sword into the admiral's body, and
exclaimed through the window, " He is done for."-" Let us
see, though," cried the sanguinary Guise; and the bleeding
corpse of Coligny was flung down to him: he wiped the face
with his handkerchief, in order to recognize the features, and
then was satisfied.




1572.      MASSACRE OF ST. BARTIOLOMEW'S.            253
The same scene was repeated in every street, almost in
every house. The Catholics, with the -sign of the cross in
their caps, or the image of the Virgin round their necks, to
distinguish them, pursued all those  that bore not these
symbols of the assassin, and murdered them without pity.
Women were not spared, nor youth; and the child that
could wield a mallet, it is recorded, was directed to dash out
the brains of the infants of heretics. What is surprising
the victims made no resistance! The most valiant captains
bared their throats to the knife; they would not derogate, at
such a moment, from their character of martyrs. Most were
murdered as they slept, or when just starting from  their
beds. Teligny, to whom the admiral had given his daughter,
was shot on the tiles of his house.  One old noble, Caumont
de la Force; who had himself received his death-wound, saw
one of his sons slain: ere his strength left him, he had presence of mind to fling himself upon his other son, still sleeping, and thus concealed and preserved him with a parent's
dead body. A Huguenot, pursued by a captain of the king's
guard, in the very palace, rushed towards the chamber of the
king of Navarre, forced it open, and flung himself into the
bed for safety.  Charles's sister, Margaret, the bride of the
late spousals, was in it alone.  She sprung up in aff-ight,
the Huguenot still clinging to her for safety. The captain
arrived with his drawn sword, but was so struck with the
ludicrous position of the princess and the terrified Huguenot,
that he burst into laughter, and was induced to spare his
victim.
No allowable space would suffice for the records of such
indiscriminate massacre. Charles, by his missives, ordered
the same scene to be renewed in every town throughout his
dominions. And the principal cities but too zealously responded. Fifty thousand Protestants are said to have fallen
victims of the monarch's order. A few commanders refused.
The viscount d'Orthe wrote back to the court, "that he
commanded soldiers, not assassins."  And even the public
executioner of a certain town, when a dagger was put into
his hands, flung it away, and declared himself above the
criane. The family of the Montmorency, though Catholics,
showed their abhorrence of these acts, and had the courage
to ta;ke down the body of the admiral, which had been hung
to the common gibbet, and to give it burial at Chantilly.
Charles IX. had not failed to visit it, while yet suspended.
His followers complained of the odor.  "The body of a
dead enemrn  ca;.ot smell otherwise tuan sweet," was his
reply. And yet this is the monarch whom some historians
Vol.. I.               W




2541              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1572.
uphold to have been sincere in his demonstrations of friendship to Coligny; and who, say they, was but subsequently
induced, by an intrigue of Catherine and of Guise, to consent
to the massacre. He now avowed that all was committed by
his orders; and even held a bed of justice in his parliament
for the very purpose. The trembling judges, with de Thou,
their president, could not but applaud his zeal.. As for de
l'lHpital, who had long been banished from court, and who
had abandoned the friendship of Catherine since she had
joined the Guises, he expected not to be spared, and ordered
his domestics to throw open the gates. They disobeyed, and
the murderers were unable to reach him. But de l'Hopital
did not long survive to deplore the miseries of his country.
His words were, "After such horrors, I do not wish to live."
The joy of the pope, on the other hand, and of Philip of
Spain, knew no bounds. The supreme pontiff went in state
to his cathedral, and returned public thanks to Heaven for
this signal mercy.
Charles had spared his sister's husband, the young king of
Navarre, and his companion the prince of Conde. It was
only at the price of being converted. Death or the mass was
the alternative offered to them; and both, after some resist.
ance, yielded in appearance.  On the other hand, mere
abhorrence of the massacre caused many Catholic gentlemen
to turn Huguenots. Amongst these was Henry de la Tour
d'Auvergne, viscount de Turenne. After all, the crime,
from which so much was expected, produced neither peace
nor advantage. The Huguenots were, indeed, paralyzed by
the blow; but the Catholics were no less stupefied by remorse
and shame. King Charles himself seemed stricken already
by avenging fate. He was nervous, and agitated. The blood
he had spilled seemed ever to stream  before his eyes. A
continual fever took possession of him, and henceforth never
ceased to consume him. The chiefs were equally languid,
equally disunited.  The Huguenots had time to rally, and
to prepare for defence. Rochelle and Montauban shut their
gates. Charles in his blindness sent la Noue, the Huguenot,
to Rochelle; he became its commander. The town was at
length besieged, and thousands of the Catholics fell before
it; among them, not a few of the murderers who assisted in
the massacre on St. Bartholomew's eve. At length Charles,
unable to conquer, and incompetent to carry on war with
vigor, granted the Huguenots a peace. Rochelle and Montauban preserved the freedom of their religion; and Charles
had the pain of perceiving that his grand and sweeping crime
had but enfeebled the Catholic party, instead of insuring its
triumph.




1574.           THE KING OF NAVARRE.                255
Catherine, in the mean time, had the address to procure
the crown of Poland for the son of her predilection, Henry
duke of Anjou.  She had lavished her wealth upon the
electors for this purpose. No sooner was the point gained
than she regretted it. The health of Charles was now
manifestly on the decline, and Catherine would fain have
retained Henry; but the jealousy of the king forbade. After
conducting the duke on his way to Poland, the court returned
to St. Germain, and Charles sunk, without hope or consolation, on his couch of sickness. Even here he was not allowed
to repose. The young king of Navarre formed a project
of escape with the prince of Conde. The due d'Alenqon,
youngest brother of the king, joined in it. A body of horse
was to wait in the forest of St. Germain for the princes,
and protect them  in their flight. The vigilance of the
queen-mother discovered the enterprise, which, for her own
purposes, she magnified into a serious plot. Charles was informed that a Huguenot army was coming to surprise him,
and he was obliged to be removed into a litter, in order to
escape. "This is too much," said he: " could they not have
let me die in peace?"
Cond6 was the only prince that succeeded in making his
escape. The king of Navarre and the due d'Alenron were
imprisoned. The former, accused of conspiring against the
king's life, defended himself with magnanimity, and asked,
was it a crime, if he, a king, sought to free himself from
durance? This young prince, or monarch, had already succeeded, by his address, his frankness, and high character, in
rallying to his interests the most honorable of the noblesse,
who dreaded at once the perfidious Catherine and her children; who had renounced their good opinion of young Guise
after the day of St. Bartholomew; and who, at the same time
professing Catholicism, were averse to Huguenot principles
and zeal. This party, called the Politiques, professed to follow the middle or neutral course, which at one time had been
that of Catherine of Medicis; but she had long since deserted
it, and had joined in all the sanguinary and extreme measures
of her son and of the Guises. Hence she was especially
odious to the new and moderate party of the Politiques
among whom  the family of Montmorency held the lead
Catherine feared their interference at the moment of the
king's death, whilst his successor was absent in a remote
kingdom; and she swelled the project of the princes' escape
into a serious conspiracy, in order to be mistress of those
whom  she feared.  Lamole and Coconas, both confidants of
the princes, were executed for favoring their escape. The
marshals of Cosse and Montmorency were sent to the Bastile




256               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1574
In this state of the court Charles IX. expired on the 30th oc
May, 1574, after having nominated the queen-mother to be
regent during his successor's absence.
The character of Charles is graven in the events of his
reign. He was a cruel and perfidious monster, and although
a great portion of the burden of his crimes must fall on the
celigion which prompted and absolved, nay, nominally halowed them, yet to have been instrumental in perpetrating
such atrocities is sufficient to damn him. One would think
there was no need for this severity of language; one might
suppose that the mere facts, the massacres of the time, would
sufficiently provoke the judgment of every reader. But the
memory of Charles IX. has never wanted defenders. Brant6me describes him as a pattern of amiability and virtue.
Catholic writers have not ceased to vaunt and to excuse him;
and even a modern historian, Anquetil, begs us "to excuse
his extreme vivacity," and informs us that "' his good qualities
were far more in number than his bad ones."
CHAP. IX.
1574-1589.
HENRY THE  THIRD.
THE career of the new king, while duke of Anjou, had
been glorious. Raised to the command of armies at the age
of fifteen, he displayed extreme courage as well as generalship. He had defeated the veteran leader of the Protestants
at Jarnac and at Montcontour; and the fame of his exploits:
had contributed to place him on the elective throne of Poland,
which he now occupied. Auguring from his past life, a
brilliant epoch might be anticipated; and yet we enter upon.the most contemptible reign, perhaps, in the annals of France.
Notwithstanding the valor of Henry, occasionally directed
by a mind sagacious enough when awakened, there was a
weakness, a fatuity about him, that looked like a curse, for
it was unaccountable.  He seemed to have faculties, but no
spirit to direct them. Pleasure was with him the sole end
of existence.  He inherited from his mother a complete
indifference to any principle or party. But this want of
motive, which she amply supplied by profound and active
selfishness, in him became apathy, combined with a distaste
for aught save sensual and frivolous enjoyment. The ma.
ternal feeling that led the astute Catherine to centre hei




1574.               FIFTH CIVIL WAR.                  257
affection in this weak and infatuated son, must have wrought
for her much of the pain and mortification that her perfidy
deserved.
Henry was obliged to run away by stealth from his Polish
subjects. When overtaken by one of the nobles of that kingdom, the monarch, instead of pleading his natural anxiety to
visit France and secure his inheritance, excused himself by
drawing forth the portrait of his mistress, the princess of
Cond6, and declared that it was love which hastened his return.
At Vienna, however, Henry forgot both crown and mistress
amidst the feasts that were given him; and he turned aside
to Venice, to enjoy a similar reception from that rich republic. In these pleasures he lingered, lavishing money, and
even giving away the fortresses of his kingdom in liberality
to his hosts.
The hostile parties were in the mean time arming. The
Politiques, or neutral Catholics, for the first time, showed
themselves in the field.  They demanded the freedom of
Cosse and of Montmorency, and at length formed a treaty
of alliance with the Huguenots.  Henry, after indulging in
the ceremony of being crowned, was obliged to lead an army
into the field. Sieges were undertaken on both sides, and
what is called the fifth civil war raged openly. It became
more serious when the king's brother joined it. This was
the duke of Alenqon, a vain and fickle personage, of whom it
pleased the king to become jealous. Alencon fled, and joined
the malcontents.  The reformers, however, warred but languidly. Both parties were without active and zealous leaders; and the only notable event of this war was a skirmish
in Champagne, where the duke of Guise received a slight
wound in the cheek.  From hence came his surname of Le
Balafre.
Since the massacre of St. Bartholomew's eve, at least since
his frustrated attempt to escape, the young king of Navarre
had remained a captive at court, under the watchful and envious eye of Catherine. Forgetful of his high destinies,
Bourbon gave himself up to pleasure; some of his admirers
assert that he affected to be dead to ambition, in order to lull
the suspicions of the queen-mother, thus acting the part of
Brutus at the court of Tarquin. His desire to escape could
not have slept. To support the presence of his wife must
alone have been bitter humiliation to him: Margaret was at
once as debauched and as cruel as her royal brothers; and
about this very time Duguast, one of the king's infamous fak
vorites, fell under the dagger of a person hired by her to
avenge an insult. Still Bourbon endured all with his chracteristic gaiety.  " I must abandon the mass and my wife,"




258               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1576
said he, "but, with the help of friends, I hope to be able te
do without either."  When the duke of Alenqon escaped, he
p;essed the king of Navarre to accompany him; but the latter would not trust himself again to one who had before betraved him: and it was not until some time after the duke's
fliglht, that Bourbon succeeded in leaving the court. He bent
his course towards Guienne, and at Niort publicly avowed
his adherence to the reformed religion, declaring that foTce
alone had made him conform to the mass.
It was about this time that the king, in lieu of leading an
army against the malcontents, dispatched the queen-mother,
with her gay and licentious court, to win back his brother.
She succeeded, though not without making large concessions.
The duke of Alen(on obtained Anjou, and other provinces in
appanage, and henceforth was styled duke of Anjou. More
favorable terms were granted to the Huguenots: they were
allowed ten towns of surety in lieu of six, and the appointment
of a certain number of judges in the parliament.
Such weakness in Henry disgusted the body of the Catholics; and the private habits of his life contributed still more,
if possible, than his public measures, to render him contemptible. He was continually surrounded by a set of young
and idle favorites, whose affectation it was to unite ferocity
with frivolity. The king showed them such tender affection
as he might evince towards woman: they even had the unblushing impudence to adopt feminine habits of dress; and
the monarch passed his time in adorning them and himself
with robes and ear-rings. The licentiousness of the court,
and the demoralization arising from the total absence of
female virtue, which, since the reign of Francis I., had been
notorious, were carried to such extent under Charles IX.,
that the higher ranks of the sex ceased to have charms, and
became objects of disgust, even to the licentious. Hence
came the indescribable tastes and amusements of Henry and
his mignons, as his favorites were called, which raised up
throughout the nation one universal cry of abhorrence and
contempt.
The populace of Paris had from the first declared against
the Huguenots: the blood they had spilled on St. Bartholomew's eve was enough to fix them in their opinions. They
cordially sympathized with the Catholic chiefs, and with
young Guise, who lived in a kind of exile in his government
of Champagne, resentful on account of the lenity and concessions of the king in the late treaty. Their religion was
menaced, and an association was formed to support it, which
afterwards grew into the famous League. The idea might
have been taken from  the Protestants, who at this time




1576.      MEETING OF THE STATES-C'ENERAL.          259
formed a closely united body. But many trace the origin of the
league to a date some years anterior, and attribute it to the
cardinal of Lorraine and his brother, the first duike of Guise.
In my own view, if the league had any model, it was the institution of the Jesuits, of which, about this period, it adepted
the leading principle, viz. the necessity of an absolute chief.
The first document of the union that was signed in Picardy
lays stress on this as the chief point. It is curious to mark
the different tendencies of the two religions. Rochelle at the
same time refused to receive the prince of Conde as king of
Navarre, otherwise than with only a few followers, stipulating
that their leader should have no more authority over them
than the judges in Israel. The Catholics, however, at once
looked to Guise as their chief. And when Henry, by his
conduct, rendered himself utterly contemptible, when his
brother showed a character equally null, and when, in fact,
the race of Valois seemed likely soon to become extinct, the
Catholics began to look to the duke of Guise, not merely as a
party leader, but as their future monarch. The Bourbons,
the natural heirs to the crown, were set aside as heretics.
The genealogy of the Guises was blazoned forth, as showing
their descent from Charlemagne. It was argued that they
were the true inheritors of the crown, the race of Capet being
declared usurpers from the commencement.  Such were the
general reasonings of the leaguers. Their immediate plan
was to force the king to summon the states-general, to employ their utmost efforts to secure the election of Catholic
members, and, by means of this majority, to revoke the privileges granted to the Huguenots. Some also proposed to shut
up the king and his brother in a convent, and offer the crown
to the duke of Guise. The more experienced members of the
party were, however, well aware that the time was not yet
arrived for such extreme measures.
The states-general met at Blois in December, 1576. The
Huguenots themselves were eager for their meeting, from a
recollection of the sentiments favorable to moderation and to
tolerance, evinced by the last states, summoned at Orleans.
They forgot the nfluence exercised at that period by the
chancellor de l'Hopital, as well as by Coligny. Now the
league had spread its ramifications throughout the kingdom:
the provincial assemblies and elections were completely influenced by them. The states were in the interest of Guise,
as appeared from the nature of their first demands: these
were the repeal of the edicts, and a declaration of war against
the heretics. They sought to obtain the force of law for their
decrees, and conducted themselves in every way as'an artfu&
and.factious assembly. Henry was roused from his apathy
17




260               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 ]b77.
by these intrigues, and showed at onoe the sagacity of hig
mother. Instead of combating the league, he drew it forth
from  its secrecy, subscribed to it, and declared himself its
chief. This was the most adroit blow that he could give to
the ambition of Guise, who had no longer an excuse for being
disloyal. To the demand of the states for war Henry acceded:
he declared himself eager to begin it, and begged funds for
that purpose. This request cooled the ardor of the states;
and the commons avowed, that since war must be supported
by taxes, they were not so averse to peace. The king thus
countermined all the intrigues of the Guises. He was enabled
to dismiss the states, and to grant, by the edict of Poitiers,
such concessions as satisfied the Huguenots, without being so
disgraceful to the crown as the preceding treaty.
After this momentary exertion of prudence and activity,
Henry relapsed into his frivolous habits, and again sought the
society of his minions. Jealousy still existed between the
king and his brother; and the favorites increased it. One
day when the king, accompanied by his young companions,
all " desperately frizzed and starched, covered with gold and
diamonds," was attending a ceremony, Bussy d'Amboise, a
follower of the duke of Anjou, made his appearance, simply
clad, but attended by six pages, frizzed and starched also, and
clothed in cloth of gold, after the fashion of the mignons.
The king was wroth at the insult; but the favorites vowed
vengeance.  After some combats and quarrels, the duke of
Anjou and Bussy quitted the court together.  The mignons
did not want courage: three of them engaged soon after in a
duel with three partisans of the duke of Guise. They were
all slain, after having killed two of their antagonists. The
king was inconsolable, wept over their bodies, cut off their
locks, and erected magnificent tombs for them. Another favorite, St. Megrin, was a lover of the duchess of Guise. He
was assassinated; and his fate was a new source of grief for
Henry, who consoled himself by causing Bussy d'Amboise to
oe dispatched in the same way.
The king of Navarre, in the mean time, who resided at
Nerac, was strengthening his party.  The greatest disorder
reigned in Languedoc, the governors yielding obedience to
neither of the kings, and threatening, upon the slightest pro
text, to join one party and oppose the other. Nevertheless,
peace subsisted, and there seemed really to exist no matter
for negotiation. Catherine, however, could not rest in the
idle court of her son. Under the pretext of conducting her
daughter Margaret to her husband, the king of Navarre, she
took a jourrny to Ner c, and proposed to bring Bourbon into
a more amicable understanding.  The consequence of her




1585.  TREATY OF THE LEAGUEIIS WITH PHILIP 1.  26
attempts was the breaking out of a new war, called the wa
des Amoureux, or of the Lovers, it being excited by Margaret in revenge for the king's betraying to her husband her
intrigues with the viscount de Turenne and the duke of Anjou. This war, which was confined to the capture of a few
towns, and which served but to exercise and make known the
valor and generosity of the king of Navarre, occupied the
year 1580, and terminated in a peace little different fiom
that which concluded the former war.
The league had slumbered since its first defeat at Biois. It
was now to be roused into activity by the king of Spain. The
duke of Anjou, that fickle and restless prince, not content
with pretending to the hand of the queen of England, also
grasped at the offer made by the revolted Flemings to proclaim him count and independent sovereign of Flanders. Thle
French reformers crowded under his banners, and he marched
northwards at the head of 12,000 men. He seized Cambray,
acquired the dominion of the Low Countries, and might have
reigned there in despite of the Spaniards, had it been possible for a son of Catherine to follow the rules of common honesty or prudence. But having conceived a jealousy of the
prince of Orange and of his new subjects, the duke attempted
to make himself master of Antwerp. A massacre of the citizens took place by his orders; and the general indignation
expelled him from the Low Countries. The duke of Anjou
soon after died, in disappointment and shame.
This enterprise of a French prince, aided by French Protestants, and not opposed by Henry, made a deep impression
upon Philip II.: he vowed to give, thenceforward, occupa
tion to the French at home. He first endeavored to make
use of the reformers themselves, and to induce the king of
Navarre to attack Henry. On the other hand, but with more
sincerity, he resuscitated the league by aid and by promises.
Philip hoped thus to occupy and consume both parties in mutual war; but Bourbon resisted and rejected all his treacherous offers. Guise was less scrupulous. Towards the end
of the year 1584, that duke retired from court, followed by all
his adherents and the zealots of the league. Henry, unconscious of danger, though not blind to their intentions, pursued them with jests, not arms. Nancy, the capital of Lorraine, was their rendezvous; and here a solemn treaty was
concluded in February, 1585, between the French leaguers
and Philip of Spain. By this it was stipulated, that in case
of Henry III.'s death, the cardinal of Bourbon, the only
Catholic of that family, should be called to the throne, to the
exclusion of the king of Navarre; that he should renew the
peace of Chateau Cambh:esis, restore all subsequent conquests,




'2Q2               tibi''OtY OF FRANCE.             1585.
and assist in the subjugation of the Low Countries. In return, Philip agreed to furnish an army, and to pay 50,000
crowns a-month by way of subsidy.
The league had but to declare itself in order to be victorious. The towns of the north fell at once into the hands of
its partisans. Burgundy was equally favorable to them. The
south-west alone held for the reformers, yet rallied but feebly
to the king of Navarre.  The Huguenot towns were in fact
inimical to royalty, and longed to imitate Geneva in the establishment of a republic. This was one great cause of the
superior forces with which the leaguers now overwhelmed
their enemies. As for Henry III., independent of the rival
parties, he was not master of a fortress or a soldier. He had
foreseen the coming storm, but had taken no precautions for
procuring shelter or support. He first wrote to the king of
Navarre for aid against the Guises, and ended by throwing
himself into the arms of the league, and declaring against
Navarre. Catherine's address, and the imbecility of Guise,
(for Le Balafre, the assassin of St. Bartholomew's eve,
wanted the talents and the courage as well as the generosity
of his father,) saved Henry from being set aside as a cipher.
He was allowed to place himself at the head of the league.
In obedience to it, he issued ordonnances, prohibiting the reformed worship on pain of death, and banishing out of the
kingdom all who previously adhered to it. Ten principal
fortresses of the kingdom were given up to the leaguers, and
war was declared against Henry of Navarre.
That prince was astounded on learning the success of the
league, and its absorption, as it were, of the royal power.
His first thought was the hopelessness of resistance; his
next, that but one path was open to him-to perish gloriously.
In his indignation against the perfidy of Guise, he dispatched
a challenge to that duke, defying him to single combat, and
calling Heaven to witness that he took that step, not from
vain bravado or despite, but for the sake of deciding briefly a
quarrel, which would otherwise cost the lives of thousands
Guise returned no answer to the chivalrous appeal. Friends
in the mean time rallied to support the king of Navarre.
Montmorency declared for him. His companions, La Rochefoucault, de Rohan, Biron, and Turenne, joined him. Conde
and his friend la Tremouille also hastened to his court.
Knights were not wanting. But the days were past when
the noblesse were of themselves all-sufficient for war. A
sturdy and disciplined infantry was wanting, as well as funds
for its maintenance.  Bourbon was without either.  Rosly,
his friend, set out to sell his woods in Normandy: the countess of Grammont, his mistress. exchanged her jewels fo?




1587.            BATTLE OF COUTRA' 263
gold; both to contribute their mite to the scanty treasures
of the prince in his distress.
Notwithstanding the love universally borne to the king of
Navarre, he was unable to collect more than four or five thousand men to resist two armies, each of them 20,000 strong,
commanded by the duke of Mayenne, the brother of Guise,
and by the mareschal de Matignon. Fortunately the leaguers
had neither union nor vigor, and were without military talents
of any kind. Whenever they succeeded in surprising Bourbon, and in surrounding his small forces, his nimble Basques
separated at a word. He himself imitating them, made his
way through the hostile lines, and the leaguers soon heard
of the distant exploits of one whom they deemed in their
power. He had at the same time to defend himself with
other weapons against other foes. Pope Sixtus issued excommunications against him and the prince of Conde. This gave
him the opportunity of sending forth an indignant and elo.
quent defence, which he succeeded in getting affixed to the
palace of the pontiff.
Henry III. was not displeased at the ill success of the
generals of the league. It allowed him to assume more power;
and he took upon him to give the command of the army, in
the following year, to one of his favorites, Joyeuse, a brave
and rash stripling. Thus, a victory would bring triumph and
influence to one immediately attached to him, whilst a defeat
would humble the overbearing party that constrained him to
war. Joyeuse was eager to distinguish himself. With a small
army he pressed closely upon the king of Navarre, who was
at the head of still smaller numbers. The battle took place
at Coutras, a little town, not many leagues from Bordeaux.
The army of Joyeuse was chiefly composed of young nobles
and gay courtiers, covered with finery and unused to war, although not lacking courage. The king of Navarre placed his
infantry on either side, in columns, his cavalry in the midst,
divided into squadrons, each presenting a rank of fifty in
front, though but six deep. His tactics were evidently of the
old chivalric kind: he depended on the valor of the mounted
gentlemen, rather than on the mass of vulgar infantry; whilst
his own personal courage was not his least resource. After a
prelude of cannon, Sully directing ably the artillery of his
sovereign, the Catholics began to attack with such fury, that
they broke the squadrons on the right under Turenne. The
army of Navarre forming a semicircle, the king was in the
centre, considerably behind his wings, and concealed by a
rising ground. Joyeuse, seeing the success of his first attack,
led on his battle, or principal squadron. But the horses were
fatigued ere they reached their enemies. In consequence, the




264               IISTORY OF FRANCE.               1587
charge was languid; the lance became useless; while, with
the sword, the king of Navarre and his hardy warriors were
far more formidable than the effeminate courtiers of Henry
III. These were speedily vanquished, and Joyeuse himself
was slain. Bourbon grappled with the standard-learer of the
enemy, crying out, "Rends-toi, Philistin!" "Suriender,
Philistine I" No doubt the preachers that thronged and fought
in the field had compared him, in their sermons, to king
David; and Henry preserved a humorous recollection of the
comparison even in the heat of action. The battle had begun,
on the part of the Huguenots, with a prayer and a psalm. It
was made to end with one; the ministers shouting forth, as
their pean, one of the psalms of MarotLa voici l'heureuse journ6e,
Ou Dieu couronne ses elus!
Bourbon was unable to follow up this splendid victory: he
was totally without funds. In some pacific conferences, Gonzaga duke of Nevers, one of the Italians introduced into
France by the queen-mother, taunted him with his inability
to raise the smallest sum, even in Rochelle. Not being able
to deny the fact, the king of Navarre replied with sharpness,
"That is because we have no Italian financiers among us."
The army of the Huguenots was thus composed merely of
volunteers. After the victory of Coutras, chief and soldier
were eager to return home. They disbanded, and Bourbon
was obliged to retreat. An army of German Protestants had
entered France in the commencement of the campaign, and
had marched across the country to aid their allies in the cause
of the reformation. They found the passage of the Loire impracticable, and were obliged to abandon their design. Harassed by the duke of Guise, who watched and followed them,
-without a leader of talent or authority,-this powerful
army of auxiliaries was likely to produce no advantage to the
Huguenots. Could the king of Navarre have joined them, he
might have crushed the league in its birth. But he was now
without a force. Henry III. joined in person the army led by
Guise. Neither the king nor the duke attempted battle or
exploit, until the Germans, worn and dispirited, began to
make their retreat in separate bands. Guise attacked some
of these, and indulged his propensities for slaughter. His
partisans extolled his success, which considerably increased
his popularity; whilst the imbecile monarch of France sunk
deeper every day in absurdity and insignificance. Like many
silly persons, the king was prodigiously fond of sumptuous
funerals. That of Joyeuse was magnificent beyond example,
and consoled the monarch for the loss of his friend. Epernon,




1588.             GUISE ENTERS PARIS.               265
created duke, was now the surviving minion; and he monopo.
lized the extravagant favor of Henry. His insolence and
prodigality accorded with his situation, and tended to increase
and keep alive the contempt entertained by the people for
their sovereign. Henry now created him admiral of France,
and gave him the government of Normandy.
Such absurd prodigality of honors, towards a mere minion,
at the very time when the successes of Guise claimed reward,
excited the indignation of the duke, and of the Parisians,
who adored him. The Catholics had in part caught up the
religious fervor, the scriptural allusions, and the turns of expression, peculiar to the Huguenots. Guise was their Gideon,
their Maccabeus, the rod of the heretics, the savior and support of the orthodox. The citizens of Paris, at the instigation
of the league, had organized their means of resistance. The
town was divided into sixteen quarters, each of which appointed a deputy; and thus was formed a council of sixteen,
or seize. The body was known by the name of the Seize.
They drew up a muster-roll of the armed citizens, and found
their numerical amount to be 20,000. This was an army on
which the league might depend.
In the commencement of 1588, the Guises summoned a
meeting of their partisans at Nancy. The Parisians were
earnest in entreating the duke to declare himself openly, and
dethrone the imbecile Henry. But Guise still hesitated. Catholic historians vaunt, amongst other virtues, the resolution
of the duke; yet never was conspirator more deficient in that
necessary quality. In reply, the duke urged the Parisians of
themselves to seize the king, while they joined in one of his
devout processions; and he sent some of his followers to
organize and direct the attempt. The sixteen did not want
either zeal or courage to follow this advice, by which Guise
sought to reap the advantage, without incurring the peril.
But the citizens had one amongst them, named Poulain, who
betrayed all their measures to the court. Henry, in consequence, kept himself close in the Louvre, and the plans of
capture became impracticable. Epernon was dispatched to
Normandy, to make sure of the principal towns, and to muster
such a force as might awe the capital.
The sixteen, finding their intrigues discovered, were moved
by fear of punishment, in addition to their zeal and their
hatred towards the king; they therefore sent a fresh summons
to Guise, entreating him to proceed to Paris, and brave the
monarch openly. The duke could no longer recede, without
fear of disgusting his party. He summoned resolution, though
without any very fixed plan, and advanced towards Paris. On
bis,~way he received a mandate from Henry not to approach.




266               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1588
He, however, continued his march, for the purpose, he said, of
pleading his own cause. His entry into Paris took place on
the 9th of May. No troops accompanied him; but the citizens
soon formed around him the most formidable escort, even
kissing his garments, and displaying other signs of extravagant affection.
Instead of proceeding to his own hotel, the duke alighted
at that of the queen-mother, who was startled, and even terrified at the visit. Guise, however, appeased her fears by
such good-humor and gaiety, and such professions of loyalty,
that Catherine proposed that they should both set out to the
Louvre to visit the king. Catherine loved above all things to
effect reconciliation, to be herself the arbiter, and to negotiate
the terms. Guise consented. His consent strikes me as an act
of irresolution, not of courage. Catherine sent word privately to the Louvre, that she was coming thither with the
duke of Guise. Henry was thunderstruck at his enemy's
boldness. What did he seek?  For what purpose did he
thus come,-to brave him?  The king asked advice of those
near him. A colonel of his guards declared that he was
ready to run Guise through the body. Henry applauded his
zeal, but bade him wait the signal. The abb6 d'Elbene gave
the same advice.  "Strike the shepherd," said he, "and the
sheep will disperse."  But Henry was irresolute; and his
other counsellors, who feared the consequences of exasperating the populace, advised that no attempt should be made
upon the duke's life. In the midst of this consultation the
queen and Guise arrived.  The Louvre was full of guards,
whom the duke took care to salute with his wonted affability
But Crillon, their commander, gave way to a gesture of impatience and contempt, which startled Guise, and showed him
all the danger of his position. Consultations were still going
on in the king's chamber, when Catherine and the duke entered. There was no time for dissimulation. Henry showed
all his anger.  "Did I not forbid you to approach Paris?"
were the words with which he addressed the duke. The
latter partly denied having received the express order, and
partly excused himself for disobeying it. Henry listened to
something that Bellievre whispered to him, still looking stedfastly on the duke. Catherine approached the king at the
moment, and Guise could hear her using the language of dissuasion. He saw that it was a question whether to slay or
spare him; and saw also that fear of the multitude, whose
clamors were heard from without, alone saved him from the
meditated blow. Henry seemed convinced by the arguments
of Catherine.  Guise, pretending fatigue, hastily retired.
Whatever were the previous views or resolves of Gulsc.




1588.            FLIGHT OF THE KING.                267
the danger that had menaced him in the interview, determined
him in future to keep no terms with the king. On reaching
his hotel, in the rue St. Antoine, he summoned the sixteen,
and made arrangements for an immediate revolt.  He had,
nevertheless, two days after, another interview with Henry,
when he took care to be well guarded: it was Catherine who
arranged it, in the hope of an accommodation; but it proved
fruitless.
On the morning of the 12th of May, a large body oftrocp:,
arrived to reinforce the Swiss and French guards. Henry
ordered them to occupy the principal positions of the capital,
The sight of the soldiers was a signal plain enough for the
Parisians, who, instructed by Guise, instantaneously set about
forming barricades in every street. Chains extended from
house to house; carts and barrels formed their hasty intrenchments, which were heaped and filled with earth. Crillon,
who had orders to keep the communication open betwixt the
Louvre and the Bastille, was obliged to retreat from the rue
St. Antoine. Notwithstanding his reinforcements, the king
was a prisoner in his palace. Almost whilst I write, Paris has
seen a renewal of these identical barricades, which tradition
might have counselled. Some coincidences are singular. The
barricade of the rue St. Antoine was in both cases first attacked. The Louvre has been in the nineteenth, as it was
in the sixteenth century, the head-quarters of French and
Swiss guards mingled. The Swiss were doomed then, as
since, to slaughter. A post of them was surrounded in the
Cemetery of the Innocents, now the market of the same
name, and slain by the partisans of the league, notwithstanding their supplicating cries of Bon Catholique, bon Catho.
lique! The king was at length obliged to fly from his palace, and take refuge, first at Chartres, and then at Rouen.
Many of the historians of the time cast blame alike on
Henry for not having assassinated Guise, and on Guise for
allowing Henry to escape. The crime out of the question,
Guise was not sorry for the king's flight. The traitor wanted
audacity, and always crouched in his sovereign's presence
but, now he was master of the capital, and of a potent force,
he was no longer overshadowed or controlled. His efforts
were directed to legalize his usurpation, and his first attempt
was to bend the president, Achille de Harlai, to his views.
De Harlai looked at Guise, and then replied, —'T is pitiable
when the valet expels his master; as for me, my soul belongs
to my Maker, and my fidelity to the king; my body alone is
in the hands of the wicked. You talk of assembling the parliament: when the majesty of the prince is violated, the magistrate is without authority."




268               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                158h
Thl ipposition, as well as the inclination of the Parisians
themselves, after the excitation of their revolt was over, to
treat with the king and make use of his name at least, led
Guise into more moderate measures.  He proposed an arrangement, on condition that he should be appointed lieutenant-general of the kingdom, and that the states-general should
be summoned at Blois to decide existing differences. Henry
was weak enough to accede to these terms, and to sanction
them by an edict of union, to the great discontent of Epernon,
who at this juncture showed an indignant spirit that did him
honor. As for Guise, his whole attentions were wisely directed towards the composition of the states, and the appointment of deputies in his interest. For this he postponed the
war against the king of Navarre, and overlooked the feeble
acts of the king, who showed his authority at this time by
totally changing the members of his council.
The opening of the states took place at Blois on the 16tl
of October.  The duke of Guise, as grand master of the
household, presided over the arrangements. The king, than
whom no one knew better how to support dignity upon occasion, spoke with mildness and address, venturing a slight reflection upon the turbulence of the late events; as if to try
the temper of the assembly. Their silence showed them fully
in the interests of the league; and Henry was obliged to retrench the offensive words in the copy of his speech that was
printed. Guise henceforth began to advance in his demands.
He wished to be constable as well as lieutenant-general, and
to have a guard; but Henry showed adroitness in parrying
all these attacks against his authority on the part of the
states, as well as on that of the duke. The king, indeed, was
superior in sagacity at this time to his rival, who proceeded
irresolutely and vaguely, but gradually, towards the goal of
his ambition. Henry saw clearly that it was now a struggle
for life and death between him and the usurper. One must
fall; and he, in falling, would probably not be spared. He
therefore made his resolve,-one from which it might be said
that an accomplice of Charles IX. on St. Bartholomew's eve
need not shrink. It was a crime; yet if the past weakness
of Henry had not constituted the force of Guise, never would
crime have been more amply excused by a sense of self-preservation and necessity.
Henry determined, in a word, to assassinate the duke. tHe
consulted the brave Crillon. That soldier proposed to challenge Guise, and by sacrificing his own life in the combat,
make sure of slaying his adversary. He spurned the proposal to act the assassin, but promised to keep the king's secret.




1588.              GUISE ASSASSINATED.               269
Henry found others less scrupulous than Crillon. Guise, in
the mean time, was repeatedly warned of these hostile intentions: he affected to despise them, but he took every precaution.  The king summoned a council to be held on the
morning of the 23d of December: he wished, he said, to
nave the rest of the day for a party of pleasure. So early,
Guise was not attended by his intimate band. As he mounted
the stairs to council, the officers of the guard surrounded
him, and used the most supplicating entreaties that he would
procure for them their month's pay. This crowd of petitioners kept off the duke's friends, and he entered the councilchamber alone. Here, however, were numbers: the council
was, in fact, assembled. Yet Guise, it is said, felt a misgiving: he was even unwell, and was obliged to call for a restoring draught.  Perhaps he recollected the entreaties of
his mistress, who that morning in vain endeavored to dissuade
him from attending the council. At this moment the king
sent to summon Guise to his cabinet: the duke obeyed, and
was engaged in lifting the tapestry of the door, when he was
beset, his sword seized, and his body pierced by a number of
wounds. His brother, the cardinal de Guise, was sent to
prison, where he was soon after dispatched by the halberds
of his guards. Thus perished the original planners of the
massacre of St. Bartholomew. Those who see the vengeance
of Heaven declared in the violent deaths of the perpetrators,
in the misfortunes and extinction of their race, are not contradicted by these events.
Twelve days after the assassination of the Guises, expired
the queen-mother, Catherine of Medicis, almost forgotten in
the turmoil of the moment. Indeed, for a long time she had
been usee, according to the French expression, which may
mean "morally worn out." No individual had ever produced
a more pernicious effect upon a country than she had produced upon France. She introduced those habits of dissimulation and Machiavelian policy for which her country was
famed. She taught them to her children, and communicated
them to her court. When united, as they were in her, to
extreme licentiousness of private morals, we can scarcely
imagine a more perfect combination of wickedness. Such
she became in the acts of her later life, which, from their
enormity and blackness, have cast a shade over her earlier
career; so that whilst struggling for tolerance, or listening
to the counsels of de l'H6pital, Catherine is depicted as, even
at that time, perfidious and ill-intentioned.  Truth is here
sacrificed to the unity of the picture, to the imaginary consistency of a character. Human nature contradicts this, and




270               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                158a
sanctions the common proverb, "That no one of a sudden
becomes a monster."*
The exasperation of the Parisians on learning the fate of
the Guises knew no bounds. It was at first, indeed, stifled
by fear; but, as the king showed no vigor to follow up the
blow, grief soon burst forth in the accents of rage. The
church was not slow to avenge its martyrs. The murder of
Guise was an inexhaustible theme of eloquence to the preachers; that of his brother, a cardinal, was an impiety beyond
the power of language to execrate. Henry was declared a
heretic, an idolater. Processions were ordered to call down
vengeance on the royal assassin; the nudity of both sexes,
who mingled in them, being considered the attribute of the
ceremony most acceptable.  The church, in its rage, seemed
to vie in absurd frivolity with the monarch whom it attacked.
The priests of one of the principal churches in Paris made a
route, or waxen image, of Henry of Valois,-so the king was
now designated,-and the people were told to prick it devoutly with pins, in order to kill this modern Herod.  More
rational measures of hostility were at the same time taken.
The duke of Mayenne, one of the surviving brothers of
Guise, was declared head of the league. The loyal chiefs of
the judicature were committed to prison. Rome was summoned to issue its anathemas; Spain to send her aid; and an
army marched against Henry, who was now at Tours, beyond
the Loire.
For that monarch there was now no refuge but to fling
himself into the party of the Huguenots and the king of Navarre. He dreaded and hesitated to take this step. He was
superstitious, and shrunk from an alliance with heretics; but
the leaguers would not listen to his proposals of accommodation. Bourbon advanced with an army. He was warned not
to trust himself to the assassin-prince, the perfidious son of
Catherine; but he dared all, won instantly by his frankness
upon the king, dissipated his mistrust, and the two monarchs
entered into the most cordial understanding.  Many nobles,
disgusted with the Guises, and encouraged by the late acts of
rigor, however criminal, rallied to Henry; and the latter
soon found himself at the head of a formidable army of united
Protestants and Catholics.  Mayenne had as yet no force
capable of resisting him. Henry marched without opposition
to Paris, invested it, and took up his own quarters at St.
Cloud.
The rage of the Parisians increased with their impotence,
They had been beaten near Senlis, and could not hope tc
* Nemo repents fuit tilrpissimus.




,589.          HENRY III ASSASSINAT'E.               271
defeat the royal army. They made preparations, however
for a vigorous defence. Of all the partisans of the league,
none regarded its present distress with so much impatience
as the sister of the late duke of Guise, the duchess of Montpensier. She had ever been enthusiastic in its behalf; and
was known to wear a pair of golden scissors for the purpose,
she was wont to say, of marking the tonsure on the head of
Henry of Valois, and thus converting him into a monk. She
had now, however, her brothers to avenge, and all means
seemed justifiable to her.
Among those whom her penetration discerned as fit instruments of her vengeance, was Jaques Clement, a young Dominican friar, zealously attached to his religion, sombre,
fanatic, voluptuous. He always announced the purpose of
slaying with his own hand the great enemy of his faith. But
he was far from being resolved or nerved for the attempt,
until the duchess of Montpensier, learning his vague purpose,
sent for him, and excited him by all the inducements of favor,
flattery, and condescension, to carry it into execution. Thus
wound up to resolution, and emboldened by the leaguers, who
pretended to imprison one hundred of the most notable citizens as hostages for his safety, Clement set out for St. Cloud.
He was provided with letters for Henry from de Harlai, and
from the count de Brienne, both prisoners, who were made to
consider him a trusty messenger. The friar, thus provided,
was taken by the outposts, of whom he boldly demanded access to speak with the king. There were some objections
made to the admission of a stranger; but Henry overruled
them, observing, that he could not refuse to see an ecclesiastic. Clement was, therefore, introduced: he fell on his knees,
presented his letters, and whilst Henry was engaged in opening them, the friar stabbed him in the lower part of the
stomach. The king exclaimed, "The wicked monk! he has
killed me;" and, drawing out the knife, struck Clement with
it. The attendants rushed in at the moment, and slew the
assassin. At first the wound was not considered mortal; but
on the following day its fatal effects became evident. Henry
of Bourbon was summoned to the dying monarch, who declared him his successor; but warned him, that he would
never reign over France unless he abandoned the creed of
Calvin. Henry III. expired on the 2d of August, 1589.




272               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1589
CHAPTER X.
1589-1610.
HENRY THE FOURTH.
So far bejond the bounds of common sense and judgment
were men carried by the excitation of party, that the late
imbecile monarch was lamented as a hero in the camp, whilst
among the citizens his murder was celebrated as the most
glorious triumph. The duchess of Montpensier flung her
arms round the neck of the messenger who brought the welcome tidings, crying, "Ah, my friend, is it true I is the monster veritably dead! what a gratification! I am only grieved
to think he dic not know it was I that directed the blow."
She herself then went forth to spread the news. Of all
orders of men the priesthood were most delighted: they
were in ecstasies. Clement was declared a saint and a martyr, nay a deity. A statue was erected to him, with the inscription, "St. Jaques Clement, pray for us sinners!" His
mother was addressed with the same scriptural salutation
that was applied to the mother of our Lord. Nor was this
the mere enthusiasm and fanatic madness of the subordinate
pastors; the great shepherd, their infallible head, the pope
himself, joined in all the impiety. The pontiff Sextus V.
pronounced in person a public eulogium on St. Jaques Clement, and on the act of regicide, which he represented, from
the very chair of St. Peter, as comparable with the incarnation and resurrection of the Savior.
The first act meditated by Ienry of Bourbon, now, on the
extinction of the line of Valois, king of France as well as of
Navarre, was to give assault to the guilty capital. But dissension was in his camp. Such impression had the arguments of the league made even upon its opponents, that the
Catholic royalists in the service of the last king hesitated to
recognize Henry IV. as king of France. They at last acknowledged his title; but this act of acquiescence was
accompanied with a request that he would again adopt the
Catholic faith. Henry had never been a bigot; he was not
much attached to any form of faith. In his childhood he was
a Catholic, in his boyhood a Protestant, in youth forced to
be a Catholic again; and when he embraced the reformed
religion on his escape from court, we may suppose him to
have been more influenced by resentment towards his enemies
and gratitude towards his friends, than by any profound con
viction. A gallant and a soldier, he was but little addicted




1589.   WAR BETWEEN HENRY AND THE LEAGUE.    273
to study or reflection; and although Henry yielded not to the
zealots of either side in practical piety, and in truly Christian
benevolence, yet it may be supposed that he was very indifferent as to tenets. In all his manifestoes, from the very
commencement of the troubles, he shows himself not averse
to Catholicism. It was the compulsory adoption of it that he
resented.  " How," he asked, " was his conversion attempted    With the dagger to his throat."-Henry had, years
before, offended his friend Mornay, a stern Calvinist, by his
indifference on this point, and even previous to his alliance
with the late king he had declared himself open to conviction.
He, in fact, always contemplated his conversion to the
Catholic faith as a possibility. His principle was to do this
with honor, to make his conscience yield voluntarily, but
never under circumstances of constraint. He, therefore, at
the present moment, rejected the demands of the royalists:
and they, with Epernon at their head, abandoned the new
monarch to his little band of Huguenots; and even that
force, too insignificant to be called an army, Henry was
obliged to divide; a detachment under one of his captains
oeing required to oppose the Spaniards, who threatened an
invasion of Picardy. Issuing, therefore, his first edict, which
promised every surety and support to the Catholic religion,
and which summoned the states-general of the kingdom to
meet at Tours, in October, the king retreated towards the
sea-coast, resolving to await, in the neighborhood of Dieppe,
the succors that he had requested from Elizabeth of England.
The duke of Mayenne, now chief of the league, caused
the cardinal of Bourbon to be declared king, by the return
of the parliament. He was proclaimed under the unlucky
name of Charles X. As this mock monarch was a prisoner at
Tours, Mayenne had no one to interfere with his authority;
and he was himself declared lieutenant-general of the kingdom. The duke lost no time in endeavors to signalize his
new command. At the head of upwards of 20,000 men he
marched in pursuit of the Huguenots, promising the Parisians
to bring the Navarrois captive in a few days.
Henry was near Dieppe with his little army, consisting
3f 3000 French infantry, two regiments of Swiss, some
lansquenets, and a troop of gallant followers, constituting his
cavalry.  As soon as he learned Mayenne's approach he
retired from the town, the defences of which his little army
could not man, and posted himself in and around the castle
of Arques, which is northward of Dieppe, and about four
miles distant.  Many present counselled Henry to embark,
and put himself in safety beyond the sea, but Biron opposed
this with all his might. "Here we are in France; and here




274               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1589
let us be baried," exclaimed he:-"fly now, and all your
hopes vanish with the wind that bears you."  The words
which Biron spoke were accordant to the resolution of his
master; and every effort was henceforth directed to intrench
the camp, which stretched from the chateau of Arques to the
little village of the same name. The advanced post was a
lazaretto or hospital for lepers.
Mayenne arrived with his army in sight of Arques, about
the middle of September, and betrayed the dilatoriness of his
disposition in hesitating and making divers partial attacks.
The cannon of the chateau protected the royal army; and
Mayenne, with all his superiority, was not confident that he
should carry the intrenchments.  At length, on the 23d, he
prepared to keep his promise of overpowering the king. He
attacked the lazaretto with a large force of lansquenets. On
Henry's side fought also a few of those German mercenaries.
After some skirmishing the lansquenets of the league advanced; not, however, in hostile attitudes, but with their
caps on their pikes, and shouting " Vive le roi!" in token of
amity. Their compatriots within the intrenchments welcomed
them, and even helped them to get between the lines. The
assault being at the same time given on other points, the
lansquenets, either changing their minds, or acting upon a
treacherous intention, formed at the very first, and ran upon
the Swiss with their pikes. The leaguers poured over the
intrenchments in the confusion: Biron was surrounded: from
the very first the stoutest friends of Henry gave up the
battle, and looked upon his cause as lost. -The monarch was
almost deserted; his nobles had sallied out to charge the
cavalry of the enemy, and there was, at the very moment, a
sanguinary conflict and melee of cavaliers upon the plain.
"In all France are there not fifty gentlemen to die with their
King " cried Henry in despair, and he seized a lance to fight
with the Swiss. Chatillon, the son of Coligny, had just come
up, and was near enough to hear his prince's ejaculation.
He answered it by uniting his efforts to those of Henry. The
Swiss by this time had rallied: the fifty gentlemen whom
the kino in despair had summoned were by his side; Henry
charged at their head the successful leaguers, routed the
lansquenets, and drove them  back over the intrenchments.
The lazaretto itself was soon freed, and Mayenne was completely worsted.
It was after this victory that Henry IV. wrote to Crillon,
"Hang thyself, brave Crillon! we have fought at Arques, and
thou wast not there.  Adieu! brave Crillon! je vous aime d
tort et d travers."




1590.               BATTLL OF IVRY.                  275
The leaguers retreated to Picardy, in hopes of being
supported by the Spaniards. Henry, reinforced by the longexpected English, advanced to Paris, and well-nigh surprised
the affrighted capital. The tower and gate de Nesle, situated
where the Institute now stands, was then the limit of Paris.h
La Noue swam his horse round by the river, but was driven
back by musketry; whilst the petard applied by Chatillon to
the gate would not explode. The royalists avenged themselves by the plunder of the Fauxbourg St. Germain, which
yielded a rich booty. Sully had 3000 crowns for his share.
There was much cruelty on both sides; the Parisians hanging
those whom  they suspected, and Biron retaliating on the
prisoners he had made. Winter did not interrupt the fury
of the war, which raged all through the kingdom. Henry
employed his arms in reducing several towns in Normandy.
In the spring of 1590 he was engaged in the siege of Dreux,
when the duke of Mayenne, reinforced by a body of Spaniards, advanced to relieve the town, and try his fortune once
more in war against Bourbon.
The king did not tarry at Dreux, but advanced to the rencontre. The two armies came in presence on the evening of
the 13th of March. Both encamped on the plain of Ivry, destined, on the morrow, to be the field of battle. The leaguers
amounted to 16,000; the royalists were far inferior in number.
On the eve of action, de Schomberg, the general of the
German auxiliaries, was pressed by his troops to ask Henry
for their pay. The king, destitute of funds, was irritated at
the request. "A man of courage," he replied, would not
have asked for money on the eve of battle."  The next
morning, while preparing for action, Henry perceived the
general, and thus accosted him: "Schomberg, I have insulted you, and as this day may be the last of my life, I would
not carry away the honor of a gentleman, and be unable to
restore it. I know your valor, and ask your pardon: embrace
me."-" Your majesty wounded me yesterday-you kill me
to-day," replied the veteran, overcome; and lie spoke truth,
for he perished in the battle.
The king was most in dread of the Spanish lances.  His
own cavalry, composed of gentlemen volunteers, had long
since rejected the lance as troublesome, and fought with sword
and pistol. Henry, therefore divided them into small squadrons, that if one was broken, it might rally to the others;
and he thus favored this mode of fighting, which was rather
the ordering of combats man to man, than the manceuviing
* There is a picture by Wouvermans in the Louvre, which represents the
Tour te Nesle, then the gate of Paris, with the Pont Neuf in the distance.
18




276               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                   590
and shock of masses.* Cavalry and infantry were mingled
regiment supported regiment, and Biron commanded a corps
of reserve. After a prayer, in which Henry joined, he addressed his officers ere he gave the signal, desiring, that if
they should be obliged to quit the field, they would rally towards three trees, which he pointed out on the right; "and
if astray," added he, "follow my white plume: you will find
it ever on the road to honor and to victory."
There was little order in the action: on one wing the
Germans of the league behaved ill and yielded; on the other
the royalists were beaten, but Biron rallied them with reinforcements. The combat was decided by the central force of
either army; the count d'Egmont leading the Spaniards, and
Mayenne the gentlemen of his party, against the king. The
leaguers were marshalled too closely together. Henry's squadron got among them, and a sanguinary melee ensued. The
king was reported to be killed, but soon showed his white
plume in the path that he had promised. Egmont was slain.
The standard-bearer of Mayenne fell by Henry's own hand;
and the army of the leaguers was routed and driven from the
ground. Biron had overlooked the fight, reinforced weak
points, and rallied fugitives, whilst the monarch himself
fought. " Sire," said Biron, after the action, "we changed
places: you did Biron's duty; Biron yours." Sully, the friend
of Henry, was found disabled by a number of wounds on the
field of battle.
The victory of Ivry enabled the king to reduce all the small
towns around Paris, and finally to invest the capital. His
soldiers were anxious to take the city by storm, and wreak
vengeance on the strong-hold of the league. But Henry
sought to spare his capital, and to reduce it by winning rather
than by forfeiting the esteem of its inhabitants. He at the
same time formed a blockade, proposing, through famine, to
subdue his enemies. Mayenne had gone to Flanders, to seek
aid from Farnese, prince of Par.ma, general of king Philip in
that country. The duke of Nemours, uterine brother of the
Guises, commanded in the capital, supported by the Spanish
ambassador Mendoza, and the legate of the pope. These
personages exerted themselves to the utmost in engaging the
Parisians to support the privations of a siege. The priesthood
walked in procession, armed with sword and casque, and
were reviewed by the legate, who was much alarmed by the
joyous firing of these awkward recruits.  Henry tried, by
negotiation, to bring the Parisians to terms, but the fanatical
* This, no doubt, is the reason why Buonaparte spoke so slightingly of
lfary Quatre as a general.




1590                 PARIS BESIEGED.                  277
party was too powerful. By way of menace, the Huguenots
assaulted and took all the fauxbourgs or suburbs, in one night;
the king overlooking the general attack from his quarters on
Montmartre. The besieged were at length reduced to extremities, and began to eat all kinds of lothesome aliments,
carrion, ground bones, and even human flesh. Their numbers
were estimated at 230,000.* The duke of Nemours sent away
the useless mouths: Henry took pity on the people thus
driven forth, and suffered them to pass his lines; nay, he was
even moved with compassion towards the stubborn city, and
granted a passage to several convoys of provisions for its
relief.
Mayenne, however, approached with the prince of Parma,
and Henry was obliged to leave his quarters at Montmartre
to combat the Spaniards. This diversion was the sole aim of
Farnese, who, retreating from the king, fell suddenly upon
Lagny, a town commanding the course of the Marne, and
took it. Provisions of all kinds immediately floated down to
Paris. In vain the king challenged Farnese to action. The
latter replied, "It was the business of the king to force him."
This Henry could not do; and the prince, having fully
succeeded in relieving Paris, retired again into the Low
Countries.
This disappointment, at the moment when the royalists
were expecting to make themselves masters of the capital,
was almost tantamount to a defeat. The army, as usual, became in a great measure disbanded when its aim was gone;
and, in the state of languor and inactivity imposed on both
sides, fresh parties sprang up, and fresh intrigues were the
consequence. Mayenne was crossed by the Spaniards and the
duke of Nemours. Henry was pestered on one side by the.
Catholics, who besought his conversion; on the other, by
the Huguenots, who threatened to abandon him if he took
such a step. That he had long meditated it, there is no doubt.
On his accession he had promised to re-examine his con
science, and to listen to the arguments of the orthodox. Policy,
not conviction, was now the chief, if not the only argument
with him, in estimating creeds. The old cardinal of Bourbon,
the Charles X. of the league, was dead. His nephew, now
cardinal of Bourbon, began, though in the interests of Henry,
to entertain projects of ambition. He succeeded in forming a
new third party of Catholics, opposed, however, to Mayenne,
* Perefixe estimates the population of Paris in that day at 300,000; but
this Inust appear an exaggeration, if we consider that the faixblourgs were
not included. He says it was double that ninumber in Louis XIV.'s reign
an estimate also exaggerated, since Paris at the present moment does no?
contain 900.000 inhabitants.




278               HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1592
to Spain, and to the league; attached to Henry, yet insisting
on his conversion as indispensable. The act which had been
loudly demanded by queen Elizabeth and the German princes,
from whom the king was then expecting aid, —that celebrated
edict in favor of the Protestants, the first that Henry issued,
-at once offended the new party and strengthened the
league. The king was glad to escape from these intrigues
to feats of war, by which, had he possessed funds or armies,
he would have soon decided the question, and cut the Gordian
knot of religious differences. He was this year, however,
obliged to confine himself to petty enterprises. He took
Chartres, and laid siege to Rouen. Mayenne instantly summoned the prince of'Parma to march to the relief of this
town. The prince negotiated, and refused to stir until the
town of La Fere was delivered to him. Philip II. had, in
fact, separated his interests from those of Mayenne: he now
sought to turn the league to his own advantage; a selfish
policy, that contributed more than any other cause to establish Henry on his throne. To his throne Philip hoped to elevate his daughter the infanta, whom the young duke of Guise
was to espouse. The pope's legate seconded his views, and
Spanish gold gained the sixteen, who governed the municipality of Paris.
The duke of Mayenne was at Soissons, expecting the army
of Farnese, when the sixteen sought to consummate their
authority. The personages who most stood in their way were
the chiefs of the parliament, and Brisson, who, during the
captivity of Harlai and of the loyal members, had been promoted to the presidency. He had become disgusted with the
ferocity of the sixteen, and had shown this in his judgments.
A surreptitious order was procured for the execution of this
magistrate and two of his fellows; and it was instantly carried into effect by Bussi, a red-hot leaguer. This outrage
disgusted and roused the citizens. Mayenne was called to
the capital. The murderers of Brisson, with the exception of
Bussi, were themselves hanged, and the Parisians applauded
he retribution. The sixteen were deprived of their authority;
and Mayenne, now aware of the perfidy of Spain and the
fickleness of the mob, regained the influence with which he
might either oppose or treat with Henry.
The king pressed the siege of Rouen, when word was
brought that the prince of Parma had again entered France.
Leaving Biron in command of the siege, Henry marched tc
meet him; but had not force sufficient to warrant his giving
battle. At the head of merely a reconnoitring party of a
hundred horse, he was surprised at Aumale by the prince of
Parma's advanced guard  Sully begged him to retire; but




1593.             POLITICAL PARTIES.                 279
Henry, ever anxious to exchange blows, fought in the rear;
was exposed to the most imminent danger; and received a
wound, fortunately but slight, from a pistol-shot. It was on
this occasion that queen Elizabeth begged of him not to expose his person so rashly. Mornay wrote, that " he had long
enough played the part of Alexander: it was time for him
to act Augustus."
This glory, however, served but to veil the disasters of the
campaign. Biron's force was routed by a sally of the Rouennois, and the siege was completely raised. Henry's bravest
captains now began to fall around him. La None had not
ong before perished in battle. Biron was carried away by a
cannon-shot at Epernay. The force of the royalists alone
could never, without concessions, reduce the stubborn spirits
of the league in obedience to Henry. He therefore began
seriously to meditate on the expediency of taking the grand
step of recantation.
The states-general assembled at Paris in the commencement of the year 1593. The duke of Mayenne, who trembled
for his influence, attempted to divide the assembly into five
estates, placing the court, the great officers of the crown,
and governors of provinces, apart from the small noblesse.
The judicial body, or presidents of parliament, were also to
be apart, as in the time of Henry II. But this was overruled'
and the ancient division of three estates prevailed. The
avowed object of the assembly was to elect a king. All agreed
that the existence of a Protestant king was inadmissible; a
principle not irrational for zealous Catholics, considering that
the monarch was to possess absolute power, and that his ordinances were to be laws. The wonder is, that no guarantee
was imagined in the form of a representative body, invested
with the right of assembling and of sharing in legislative
functions. But this ama.lgamation of monarchy and liberty
was not yet considered feasible. Anxieties for freedom were
lost in the zeal for religious ascendency; and all those fiery
demagogues, who represented the popular spirit, were inoculaled with the bigotry, and bought with the gold, of' Spain.
There were, in fact, but three parties in the states. First,
che Politiques, or Catholics; anxious not to interrupt the legitimate line of succession, provided Henry would recant.
At the head of this were the great personages of the judicature. The second was the party of Mayenne, the aristocracy
of the league; wavering and unfixed in their choice and de.
terminations.  The third, and the most powerful, was that of
Spain, supported by the legate. They argued, that the Salic
lawr was not fundamental; that females might succeed arid
rr ifn il France; an!id that Philip's daughter, the infanta. had




280               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                 1593
the best claim to the crown, in the right of her mother Elizabeth, daughter of Henry II.
The views of the latter party were crossed by an expedient
wvhich the king adopted, that of dispatching a request for an
interview between the Catholic nobles of the army and those
of the states. It took place at Suresne, notwithstanding the
dissuasions of the legate, and the opposition of the Spaniards,
who were still more mortified at learning that Henry, in the
very opening of the conference, gave it to be understood that
he was willing to be converted. In fact, he was already engaged in listening to the most learned doctors of the Catholics; while very many of the Protestants, even of the Protestant divines, counselled him to accept Catholicism rather
than perpetuate the civil war. The legate and the Spanish
party exerted themselves to do away the effect of this concession. The legate threatened to withdraw from the city,
if negotiations were entered into with a relapsed heretic,so he styled Henry.  The duke of Feria, relying too conhdently on the Spanish party in the states, proposed openly
that the crown should be voted to the infanta. who was to
marry a German prince. This proposal, though often mooted,
and not disapproved in private meetings, excited the ill-humor
of the assembly, and especially incensed the bishop of Sens,
who, though a zealous leaguer, burst forth'into an invective
against the selfishness of the Spaniard. The old party of the
league were highly offended at the condition coupled with
the proposal, by which a German prince was to be brought
forward. An amendment was devised;and the Spanish party
promised that the infanta, in the case of her election, should
espouse a prince of France or of Lorraine. This flattered
many competitors.  The duke of Savoy became one of their
number, as did the cardinal of Bourbon, one of the royalists
of Henry's camp. The young duke of Guise had, however,
the fairest hopes of the rich prize, when the royalists of the
league took a decisive step in Henry's favor. Incited by the
president Lemaltre, and Mole, one of its chief officers, the
parliament of Paris issued a decree, declaring that the Salic
law was in force, and could not be abrogated; and that the
crown of France could not pass to a stranger.  Such a step
as this required eminent courage, considering that the successive chiefs of the parliament had been imprisoned and
murdered for opposing the league. The fate of Brisson was
of very recent occurrence. At present, fortunately, the sixteen were no more; and the demagogues in the Spanisl interest had lost influence over the people, who suffered for
want of provisions, and who now at last began to long for
peace. This act of courage on the part of the judicature,




1594.         BRISSAC TREATS WITH HENRY.             28i
gave a severe check to the league; and, by the abjuration of
the king, which took place in July, in the cathedral of St.
Denis, it received a blow from which it could not be recovered by all the money of Spain or the anathemas of the legate.
Henceforward almost the only victories of Henry were
those which he won over the hearts of his subjects by his
generosity, magnanimity, and patience. He granted a truce;
he extended it, and showed the utmost reluctance to use the
sword, though the Parisians still refused to receive him. The
irresolute Mayenne had again united his interests with those
of Spain; but the zeal of both had cooled; and the duke still
remained at enmity with tie king, more from shame to submit than from any hopes of successful resistance. Henry unceasingly pursued the paths of conciliation. His ambassadors
wore out the hostilities of the court of Rome, where cardinal
d'Ossat supported by his talents the interests and character
of his master.  The extravagant enthusiasm  of the league
had evaporated; in part, it had been reasoned down by the
mild and rational philosophy promulgated in the Essays of
Montaigne, and in part scouted by the poignant ridicule of
the Satire lenippee.  These are the two chief literary
works of the epoch; the former sufficiently known to every
reader, the latter one of the finest specimens of political
satire to be found in any language. It proved to the leaguers
what Hudibras proved to the English Puritans;-it exposed
the absurdity and hidden selfishness of fanaticism, and showed
that ridicule might be made a more effectual weapon than the
sword.
As the influence of the league daily declined, even in the
capital, its remaining zealots exerted themselves to stay the
downfall of their cause. An assassin was suborned to make
away with Henry IV. by the same mode in which Henry III.
had been removed.  The chief of the Jesuits in Paris, and a
popular curate, united to hire a person named Barrere for this
diabolical purpose.  But Barr6re wanted the zeal of Jaques
Clement; missed his opportunity at one time, became fainthearted at another, was seized, and confessed his purpose and
its instigators.  The open measures of defence adopted by
Mayenne were not more successful. He in vain endeavored
to secure Paris to the league, by resuscitating the power of
the sixteen and of the rabble, which he himself had formerly
crushed.  He removed the military governor, and appointed
in his place Brissac, who might, he thought, be trusted. The
duke's own want of confidence, however, was betrayed by
his quitting the capital and bringing his family along with
lhim. Brissac failed not to treat with Ienry; and it was ar




282                HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1594.
ranged between them  that the king should make his entry
into Paris on the 22d of March.
On the day previous, Brissac took. occasion to dispatch a
body of the Spanish garrison to surprise a convoy of provisions, which, he pretended, were for the army of Henry.
Under similar pretexts, he dispersed and wearied the troops
most attached to the league. The Spanish envoy, the duke
of Feria, conceived some suspicions, and communicated them
to Brissac, who affected the utmost zeal and activity, and
summoned the principal citizens to the Hotel de Ville. To
them he frankly disclosed his intentions, which were warmly
seconded by L'Huillier, provost of the merchants, and by the
sheriffs of the city. Every preparatory measure was taken.
The troops of Henry were to arrive by two in the morning
at the gates, which were opened and unblocked. Henry hesitated long; he was fully aware of the danger of engaging
in the narrow streets of a city, which had shown itself so
inveterate, and amidst a population whose fanatic zeal might
be roused by a chance-word or a random-shot. The enterprise prospered, however, beyond his wishes. The sixteen
and their partisans were either scattered, or blockaded in
their houses: every gate and post of importance throughout
the city was in the hands of the royalists ere day lighted up
the triumph of the king to the awakened eyes of those who
were not in the secret. But a single post of Spanish troops
made resistance, and theirs was the only blood that was shed
upon this joyous occasion. Henry having been presented with
the keys by the provost L'Huillier, and having invested Brissac with the white sash of the Bourbon party, in lieu of the
embroidered one, of which the marshal made an offering, entered his capital by the Porte Neuve, or New Gate, which
was opposite the Tuileries, and within the precincts of that
palace. No voice save those of acclamation hailed him, whilst
he proceeded to return thanks in the cathedral of N6treDame.  He then took up his quarters in the Louvre, and
dined in public. In the afternoon of the same memorable
day, he proceeded to a window near the gate of St. Denis, in
order to see the Spanish garrison march out of the city.
"Commend me to your master," said Henry, saluting these
sullen auxiliaries of the league:;' depart in peace, but let us
never see you here again."
To subdue the provinces was an easy task, after the reduce
tion of the capital. None could longer make resistance on
the plea of principle, and Henry was forward to satisfy the
selfishness or ambition of every noble.  Montmorency, who
Lad declared for the king before his conversion, was created
constable: he was governor of Languedoc, and his influence




,594.            CONQUEST OF LAON.                  283
kept the proud duke of Epernon in check. Bretagne still
held out under the duke of Mercoeur; but the surrender of
Rouen by Villars secured the important province of Normandy. Villars demanded the place of admiral as the price
of Rouen: Henry had already bestowed this office on Biron,
a brave young follower, the son of the late marshal. Biron,
impetuous and quick, but rash and fickle in temper, instantly
resigned; a generous act of sacrifice that he failed not speedily
to regret. Henry marched against Mayenne, besieged and
took Laon, before which town he lost the gallant Givri, who
exposed himself from the hcpeless love which he bore to one
of the daughters of Guise. A letter of Henry to this young
noble ran in these terms:-" Thy victories prevent my sleeping. Adieu, Givri! Here's food for thy vanity!"
The conquest of Laon, notwithstanding the efforts of the
Spaniards to relieve it, might serve as a demonstration
throughout the kingdom, that the league and its chief, Mayenne, possessed no longer the force to resist. Picardy, therefore, submitted, not, however, without an arrogant stipulation
made on the part of Amiens, that no troops should be admitted
within its walls. In a little time the towns of Champagne
also resumed their allegiance. The young duke of Guise
bowed the knee before his sovereign, and made a merit of
bringing the adhesion of the town of Rheims.
After the capture of Laon, Mayenne returned into Burgundy, where he confirmed his strength by decapitating the
principal burgesses of Dijon, who meditated a surrender to
the king. The war also continued in Provence, where Lesdiguieres, Henry's general, opposed the duke of Savoy, who
had aimed, during the troubles of the civil war, to carve out
for himself a little sovereignty from the south-east of France.
Negotiations continued with the pope, to whom Henry was
most anxious to be reconciled. The pontiff held out hopes in
secret, whilst in public he maintained the most frigid and
insulting demeanor towards the French ambassador. The
king used every means of evincing the sincerity of his recantation. He joined in public processions, and paid the most
devout attention to the ceremonies of the church. The same
spirit of conciliation led him to be lenient towards the Jesuits,
whom the university now persecuted before the parliament
as the abettors of regicide and assassination. They were protected by the quiescence of the king, who already forgave the
attempt made by Barr6re upon his life. -He had reason to
regret his forbearance, when in the December of this year,
amidst the felicitations of his court, who crowded round him
on his return from Picardy, a stroke of a dagger was aimed
at his face. It pierced his mouth, and fortunately came




284               IISTORY OF FRANCE.                1595
against a tooth, which it broke. The assassin was Jean
Chatel, a native of Paris, and a pupil of the Jesuits. He had,
it seems, been an abandoned sinner, so deep in crire, that no
penance could be devised by his priestly confessor great
enough to expiate his faults, save that of slaying a heretic
prince with his own hand. He undertook to perform this act
of penitence on the person of Henry; and, happily for his
country, failed. He was tortured and torn by four horses,
and the order of the Jesuits was expelled from the kingdom.
W Tas it necessary," said Henry, alluding gaily to his wound,
" that the Jesuits should be convicted by nmy mouth V"
The following year was employed by the king in subduing
the provinces of the south-east.  He marched against Mayenne, who was supported by the Spaniards, under the constable of Castile. There was no regular engagement, and bu
two skirmishes took place; in the first of which, at Fontaine
Francaise, Henry fought as at Aumale, with a few hundred
horse against the enemy's van-guard, and completely routed
it. Biron had similar success on another occasion, and the
Spaniards were driven out of France.  Mayenne was about
to retire to Spain, when a message from the king allowed
him to return to Chalons, and gave assurance that the door
of reconciliation and pardon was yet open even to him. In a
short time afterwards, the pope granted full absolution to
Henry, and acknowledged him as the Most Christian King.
Mayenne, upon this, pretended that all his scruples were
removed. He made submission, and received pardon; ana
this stubborn chief of the league proved afterwards far more
faithful to Henry than the Huguenot comrades who had
fought with him from the commencement of the war.
The king was now doomed to find enemies in his ancien
partisans; and it must be owned that the Protestants had
some cause for discontent.  All the great offices and governments at the disposal of the state had been distributed to the
Catholic leaders, as the price of their submission. Not only
to obtain that submission, but -to conciliate the pope, Henry
consented to follow the counsel of the Catholics chiefly. Ile
had not issued to the Calvinists a satisfactory guarantee of
their rights; and whilst even Mayenne, the crushed and conquered Mayenne, had provinces under his command, as well
as towns and fortresses of surety, the Huguenots had still to
confide solely in the honor and forbearance of the king.
Doubtless to these just causes of complaint the selfish cravings of private ambition were added. The party of the reformers began in consequence to raise its head, no longer in
support of the king, but in independence of him, and manifested a kind of inert opposition.  The chiefs of the Hugue



1596.       DISCONTENT OF THE IHGUENOTS.             285
nots were La Tremouille and the duke de Bouillon. The
tatter has been known to the reader, in our recital of the early
part of the war, as La Tour d'Auvergne viscount de Turenne.
By marrying the heiress of the de la Mark family, he inherited the duchy of Bouillon, which Henry, indeed, secured to
him; but, nevertheless, against which there were many rival
claimants to disquiet the new duke.
Owing to this discontent of the reformers, and to their
withholding the aid on which he always counted, Henry was
unable to carry on with vigor the war which he had declared
against Spain. The open resistance of the league did not
distress him so much as the neutrality of the Huguenots.
The Spaniards, commanded by the archduke Albert, took
Calais, and ravaged Artois. The king applied to queen Elizabeth on this occasion, who immediately demanded the restitution of Calais as the price of her aid.  "You must excuse
me," answered Henry; "I would rather be robbed by my
enemies than by my friends." But Elizabeth was at that time
still indignant on account of Henry's recantation.
Acknowledged by the pope and by the chiefs of the extinct
league, the king no longer feared to convoke a national
assembly in order to recruit his funds. It was not the statesgeneral, however, that he summoned. Both Henry and his
ninister Sully hated the democracy, not without reason, indeed, during the fanaticism of the league. An assembly of
notables was therefore in preference appointed to meet, not
in Paris, but at Rouen. Henry, who particularly admired
Francis I. amongst his predecessors, showed that he entertained the peculiar aristocratic feelings which we have noticed
in that prince-a jealousy of the higher aristocracy, but a
love for the class of the nobly born. In his opening discourse,
when mentioning his "noblesse," the king added, "from
which I do not distinguish the princes of the realm, the
quality of gentlemen being the noblest title we possess."
This indication of royal sentiments is the most important circumstance in the assembly, which was productive of little
effect. They voted no funds, and left the government to stop
the salaries of its officers, in order to supply the wants of the
moment. Here it is a wonder that the sagacity of Sully did
not perceive the uselessness of an assembly of which the
aristocratic members feared to vote supplies for a people
whom  they did not represent. But Sully was blinded by
aristocratic pride. The absence of the Huguenot chiefs, then
almost in open revolt, prevented any thing like an edict in
their favor.
In the commencement of the following year, Philip II.
sinkin"' in years, mortified by the ill success of his manifold




286               HIISTORY OF rltANCE.              1597
schemes, and insulted by the English, who had taken Cadiz,
one of the principal towns in his dominions, made some indirect advances towards peace. Henry was not adverse to an
accommodation; when the enterprise of a Spanish officer,
named Telle, the commander of Dourlens, who succeeded in
surprising and capturing the town of Amiens, put an end for
the time to all prospects of amicable adjustment. The king
was dreadfully cast down by the news, and the court was
struck with stupor. " I have been playing the part of king
of France long enough," said Henry to the fair Gabrielle,
for whom  the love of the monarch was such that it had
caused his vigilance to slumber, "I must now act the king
of Navarre."  He meant that he must mount his horse, be
alert, and incessantly combating. Sully exerted himself to
find the supplies; yet notwithstanding the recent assembly
of the notables, he could hit on no expedient, save that of
creating and selling useless offices. The parliament thought
proper to expostulate against this, and talked of" God having
confided to them the keeping of justice."-" You make a
mistake there, sir," cried the king, interrupting the president; " it is to me that God has confided the keeping of justice, and I intrust that keeping to you."  This quick and
just assertion of prerogative startled de Harlai. There is nc
feeling to be found more strongly marked in the Memoirs of
Sully (and the monarch no doubt participated in these prejudices of his minister) than the contempt felt by the noble and
the soldier fbr the lawyer, even though the latter could trace
his descent from a race of magistrates. The noblesse of the
robe was disdained by the noblesse of the sword; and yet
Henry owed his crown as much to the firmness of the one as
to the valor of the other.
The king now turned all his force towards Amiens, and
invested it. The archduke marched to its relief, but was
disinclined to venture a- battle. A few skirmishes, merely,
took place; and the Spaniards failing to throw succors into
the town,. it surrendered.  The duke of Mayenne and the
old leaguers showed their sincerity on this occasion by corn.
bating in the ranks of the king. Their rencontres with the
Spaniards, so lately their friends and allies, brought on new
proposals for peace. Commissioners on both sides met at
Vervins to arrange preliminaries. Henry took advantage of
the truce to lead in person an expedition against the duke
of Mercceur, who still held out in the remote province of
Britany. The approach of the king intimidated him, however:
he offered to submit; and adroitly proposing to give his
daugkter and heiress in marriage to Henry's son by Gabriell;




1598.               EDICT OF NANTES.                 287
d'Estr6es, he obtained favorable terms.  That illegitimate
son was Cesar, created duke of Vend6me.
On his return from thus pacifying the internal troubles of
his kingdom, Henry found his commissioners partly agreed
with those of Spain, as to the terms of a treaty. The only
obstacle was raised by his allies, the queen of England and
the states of Holland, as Spain persisted obstinately in not
acknowledging the independence of the Dutch, and objected
equally to a cessation of hostilities. The king certainly did
not show himself inclined to make much sacrifice or exertion
for these insurgents, to whose remonstrances he replied, that
they were very well able to defend themselves without aid,
and that after so many troubles and so long a war, his kingdom  had such absolute need of repose, that he could not
sacrifice the hopes of it to any foreign consideration. The
treaty of Vervins was therefore concluded in May, 1598. The
Spaniards restored all the towns that they still held in Picardy, Calais included, whilst Henry gave up Franche-Conmt
and the Charolois, together with Cambray. The duke of Savoy
was included in the accommodation; the disputed point ot
the marquisate of Saluces being left to the arbitration of the
pope.
Previous to this conclusion of peace with foreign countries,
Henry had applied himself to remove all discontent at home,
by satisfying the just desires of the Huguenots.  On his
return from Britany, he received the deputies of the Protestants at Nantes, and consulted them as to their wants and the
guarantee which they desired. Acting on their advice, tempered by his own prudence, and guided by the wisdom of de
Thou and other counsellors, Henry drew up and issued the
famous edict of Nantes.  By this the reformers were to
enjoy freedom of worship in all the towns where their creed
then prevailed. They were allowed to have meetings of
their representatives, as well as to raise sums for their clergy,
paying at the same time the tithe due to the established
church. In suits at law their judges were to be half Catholic,
half Protestant; and several towns of surety were left to
them for a certain time. The parliament made considerable
opposition to the registering of this edict; and the king was
obliged to use menaces as well as persuasion to overcome
their obstinacy.
Having thus established his throne, and by. an admirable
mixture of firmness and conciliation silenced the two contending parties, or at least left them no pretext for troubling
the repose of the state, Henry applied himself to regulate
the internal administration of the kingdom. All indeed was
not as he wished. He had been compelled to parcel out the




288               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1599
provinces among the high aristocracy, of' whose fidelity he
could be ill assured. To break faith with them xx as neither
advisable nor practicable; and therefbre his efforts were
employed in husbanding his resources and ordering his revenues, that these sinews of war might not be wanting at
need.  The baron de Rosny, better known as the minister
Sully, was created sur-intendant of finance. The old jobbers
and administrators of the revenue ridiculed the idea of thrusting a soldier into such an office; but Sully soon convinced
the monarch and the nation that probity, economy, and activity, were qualities more efficient in a financier than all the
arts of fiscal experience. His first operation was to remit all
arrears due on the taille; his next was to annul the leases
for farming out the revenue, and to order all pensions or
other allowances to be paid direct from the treasury, whence
all payments were to be made, and not as heretofore from
different funds and provinces. Great clamors of course were
raised against these innovations, so unfavorable to the grandees and to the provincial authorities. The proud duke of
Epernon insulted Sully, who was not slow to touch his sword.
" If Epernon challenges you," wrote Henri Quatre to his
minister, "I will be your second."
The debts of the state were found to amount to upwards
of 300 millions of livres, tantamount to nearly three, times
that sum in the present day, and this at the enormous interest of ten or twelve per cent.  The revenue to liquidate
this and support the charges of the state did not exceed 25
millions. Yet Sully in five or six years had cancelled this
debt, and had begun to amass funds in anticipation of a future
war. Not only was this effected, but in a very short time he
relieved the people from the onerous tax of the sous per
livre on all goods sold. Sully was eminently aristocratic;
so much so, that he vehemently opposed the introduction of
those manufactures which enriched the civic class at the
expense of the landholders.  Henry, however, overruled
his minister in this, and founded the silk manufacture of the
kingdom as well as that of tapestry.  Yet Sully, though he
despised the lower orders, did his utmost to alleviate their
burdens. Ile diminished the taille, or tax, from which the
nobles were exempt, and preferred the dixine royal, a kind
of capitation tax, which was more equitably levied. The
monarchy, in fact, never flourished under a more sage or
more upright minister; and yet this administrative virtue of'
Sully gave a greater blow to the liberties of the French
people than even the astute despotism of Richelieu. The
economy of Sully rendered the states-general and even the




1599.            THE FAIR GABRIELLE.                 289
notables useless; and all hopes vanished that the late troubles
would terminate to the advantage of national freedom.
Who has not heard of the fair Gabrielle? Henry saw her
first at the chateau of her father, during one of his campaigns, and became enamored. He frequently stole from his
camp in disguise, and crossed the enemy's lines to visit her.
A hundred stories are told of the romantic adventures he
underwent whilst wooing. He won, and was happy. Never
had illegitimate love a more flattering excuse. Compelled
to espouse, when a boy, the abandoned sister of Charles IX.,
his wedding feast had been stained with the blood of his
friend, and the dissolute Margaret led a life such as might be
expected from such a race and such espousals.  Henry consoled himself in the affections of Gabrielle d'Estrees, whose
society he loved, and to whom he was constant.  She had
borne him  several children.  And now the wish of Henry
was to obtain a divorce from his queen, and to sanction his
connexion with Gabrielle by a marriage.  So serious and
sincere was he in this, that all his courtiers applauded the
determination.  Sully alone.looked cold. Henry consulted
him, and besought his advice; and the minister represented
to him all the dangers of a disputed succession, of the pretensions of the young duke of aend6me, who could not be
legitimated, and of all the obvious objections to such a step.
Henry was grieved: he saw the justice of the counsel, and
remained irresolute.  Gabrielle broke forth in invectives
against Sully, and at length demanded his dismissal.  Henry
brought his minister by the hand into the apartment of Gabrielle, and entreated her to be reconciled to him. She
persisted in her pride and in bursts of resentment. "Know,
madam," said Henry, harsh for the first time, " that a minister like him must be dearer to me than even such a mistress
as you." Gabrielle henceforth gave herself up to grief. The
king was true and kind as ever. In the spring of the year
1599 she was advanced in a state of pregnancy. Henry
about to go through the pious ceremonies of Easter at Fontainebleau, felt it decorous to separate for a few days from
his mistress. She retired to Paris, weighed down by despondency and the biackest presentiment. Astrological predictions
were then the mode; and some imprudent or malevolent
information of this kind tormented her: "We shall never
meet again," were her words on parting from the king; and
they proved true. She was taken with convulsions, delivered
of a dead child, and expired in a few hours. Henry had
mounted on horseback at the first news, and was half-way
on the road to Paris, when he was told "it was too late," The




290              nIMTORY OF FRANCE.                 1600
brave Henry could not support this blow: he wel-nigh faint.
ed, and was obliged to be conveyed back to Fontainebleau.
ThIere he retired, and shut himself up to indulge his grief.
Sully alone was able to console him, and rouse him, after a
time, to the affairs of the kingdom.*
It were to be wished, for Henry's character, that his amours
had ended here. His intention was to marry; and the niece
of the grand-duke of Tuscany, Mary of Medicis, had already
been mentioned. But the divorce had not yet been expedited
by the pope; and the inflammable temperament of Henry
took fire in the mean time with a new passion. Mademoiselle
d'Antraigues was the object, a being lovely indeed, but wanting alike the modesty, the sweet temper, and unambitious
conduct of Gabrielle.  She long enticed and tormented the
monarch. Her father, the count d'Antraigues, affected resentment and vigilance; and Henry-how the old love to
live their youth o'er again — had recourse to such disguise
as he had formerly used to gain admission to Gabrielle d'Estr6es. Henrietta d'Antraigues had not the same taste: she
is said to have so disliked the monarch in the humble dress
of a gardener, that she turned him from her presence. At
length she obtained from Henry a promise of marriage in
case that a son was born to her within the year, and Mademoiselle d'Antraigues became marquise de Verneuil.  Henry
showed the contract to Sully, who, without other comment,
tore and cast it under his feet. The king felt bound to write
another; but in consequence of a stroke of lightning which
fell on the house where the marquise resided, it ultimately became void. The fright which the lightning occasioned had
the effect of destroying the hopes she had entertained of fulfilling her part of the contract, a stipulation indecent and
unworthy of the monarch.  Henry soon after was roused to
a fuller sense of his dignity and of the nation's weal. A divorce was by this time obtained; and he espoused Mary of
Medicis in the course of the year 1600. The king describes
her in one of his letters to Sully as "terribly robust and
healthy." She had some reason to be jealous, for the marquise de Verneuil still retained a share of influence. Sully
was more than once called in to quiet their domestic broils.
The birth of a son, afterwards Louis XIIL, soon occurred to
allay the fears of a disputed succession, and also contributed
to bind Henry to his queen. The Spanish ambassador, a grave
Castilian, was once ushered into the king's presence at Fontainebleau rather abruptly, and found the monarch running
* The memory of Henry IV.'s mistress is preserved in the song of " Char
mante Gabrielle " which her royal lover himself composed for her.




1601.        DISCONTENT OF THE NOBILITY.            291
on all-fours with the little dauphin on his back.  "Are you
a father " was Henry's first salutation to the diplomatist."Yes, sire."-" Then I may finish my play;" and Henry
took another scamper with his son around the apartment.
The chief obstacle to the security and happiness of the
monarch, lay in the intrigues of his grandees. The people
gave him little trouble; the turbulence of the civic class wa
over: they were ashamed, as well as weary, of the long disorders of the league, and in no way sought to renew them.
Satisfied by the mild and economical management of the
revenue by Sully, they applauded so beneficent a power, and
forgot, or regretted not, that it was absolute. None clamored
for the states-general; they made loyalty a part of their religion; and abandoned all doctrines of liberty and republicanism to the hated Huguenots, who professed them.
The nobles, who were the contemporaries of Henry, could
not find the same repose: they had lived a life of turbulence
and war; they had been bred in intrigue, and in all the excitement of contending parties; peace could not content
them.  Then the life of a camp had placed them on a kind
of equality with their monarch, who had terminated the war
by yielding up the administering authority in the provinces
to the several grandees. He had compounded with them, as
much as conquered them; and the Protestant nobles had taken a position of equal independence with that of the Catholics. The high aristocracy, in fact, that Francis I. so prudently kept down, had reconstituted itself in the subsequent
reigns. They now made a covert, but not less serious proposal to Henry, choosing the duke of Montpensier, a stripling and a prince of the blood, to be their spokesman on the
occasion. This demand was no less than to re-establish the
old feudal system, by allowing the present governors of provinces to hold them in fief, and transmit them to their descendants. Henry was not a monarch to tolerate such a demand;
and his angry reply struck young Montpensier with terror.
The grandees determined to win by union and force what
gentler means could not obtain. They conspired, leagued
with Spain, with the duke of Savoy, and even with England,
endeavoring to excite a malcontent party. Protestants as
well as Catholics joined in this: the duke of Bouillon at the
head of one, the proud Epernon representing the other. Such,
however, was Henry's power, and such his character for
courage as well as promptitude, such, too, was the vigilance
of Sully, that this intrigue could never be matured into a
conspiracy.  Henry's frank and amiable temper won over
many; and he never proceeded to punish the guilty until he
19




'292              HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1601.
had used every gentle means to admonish, to pardon, and re.
gali them to duty.
The mareschal de Biron was almost the only one of his
nobles who still persisted in treasonable views. The king,
on one occasion, had summoned him, charged him seriously,
but not severely, with the crime, and showed him that he
was well informed of his intrigues. Biron fell on his knees,
confessed his weakness, but vowed that he would never more
forsake the path of loyalty. Henry pardoned and embraced
him. But Biron, vain and fickle, jealous even of his monarch's fame, was weak enough to listen once more to the insinuations of Spain. The duke of Savoy, on a visit to Henry,
manifested every sign of admiration for the king, while he
occupied himself in corrupting the French courtiers, and in
fomenting a party. He was ably seconded by the Spanish
count de Fuentes. Biron was fascinated by the mighty promises of these intriguers: he was to have Burgundy as an independent state. The constable Bourbon himself never received more magnificent promises. Nothing more displays
the baseness and declension of Spain, than her recourse to
such weak and dishonorable machinations. Henry soon after,
wearied with the bad faith and subtle subterfuges of the duke
of Savoy, made war on that prince. Biron was intrusted
with the command, and in conducting it his treachery became manifest. One day, when Sully rode with him to view
the siege of a fortress belonging to the duke, the former
could perceive that the fire from the ramparts slackened, and
was directed from them. Sully took the same ride alone on
the following day, and was received with a heavy and well
directed cannonade. It afterwards appeared that the marshal
had intended to entice the king into an ambuscade, where
the fire of the enemy would have certainly proved fatal. The
duke of Savoy, worsted by the arms of Henry, made his submission, and obtained peace. Biron continued his intrigues
with Spain, in concert with the duke of Bouillon, with the
count d'Auvergne, bastard of Charles IX., and probably with
Epernon, and the whole body of the malcontent noblesse.
The king was perfectly aware of these intrigues. Biron
was betrayed by his chief counsellor and instigator, a person
named Lafin. Henry saw Biron once talking with Lafin, and
warned him, saying, "I know that man; he will lead ycu
into evil." But the marshal was deaf to advice. Henry did
not at first place much credit in the revelations of Lafin, who
accused Sully himself among others of the court. But the
informer produced written documents, proofs of Biron's connexion with Spain. Biron was summoned to court. It waa




1601.              TREASON OF BIRON.                  293
the king's intention to reproach his ancient comrade, to endeavor to awaken his loyalty, shame him into a confession of
his treason, and again pardon him. Sully received instructions to pursue the same conduct, and to try every means
short of letting the marshal know that Lafin had confessed
all. Biron and the count d'Auvergne came to court boldly.
Henry drew the traitor apart, led him into familiar conversation, showed himself open, frank, forgiving, yet suspicious.
Biron betrayed no misgivings, no repentance, no wish to remove his sovereign's distrust. At last, as they arrived before
an equestrian statue of Henry lately erected, which was ornamented with trophies, the king asked, " What would the
king of Spain say, were he to see me thus I" Biron, who felt
that this was meant to try him, insolently replied, " Sire, he
scarcely fears you." Then correcting himself, he stammered
out, " I mean in that statue, not in this, your person." Henry
smiled sorrowfully, and gave up his mercifil and friendly
purpose. Sully, on his side, exerted himself to the same
effect, but in vain. Biron was hardened. It was only then
that Henry gave orders for his arrest, and that of the count
d'Auvergne.  As they left the king's chamber, their swords
were demanded. They were conveyed by water to the arsenal. Biron was tried before the parliament, condemned,
and executed. He evinced the greatest rage on the scaffold;
it amounted to frenzy, and was excited by his horror of so
disgraceful a death. The executioner was obliged to hide
his sword, and strike off the head of the culprit unawares.
The last years of Henry's reign are scarcely marked by
any important incidents. The few that did take place, such
as the conspiracy of the family d'Antraigues, and the weaknesses into which Henry's amorous disposition led him, are
exaggerated in importance, and narrated by historians with
a detail they little merit.  The punishment of Biron, which
Henry meant as a warning to his discontented nobles, succeeded in keeping them in awe. If they intrigued, it was in
fear, and with a caution that marred all progress or purpose.
The count d'Auvergne alone, though pardoned for being implicated with Biron, renewed his schemes in conjunction with
the marquise de Verneuil: this mistress treated the king
with the capriciousness and severity which a wronged beauty
might use towards a gallant more advanced in years: the
monarch construed her caprice into infidelity; and a loving
quarrel grew to be a serious misunderstanding. Henry withdrew the written document of the promise of marriage. The
father and daughter, joined by the count d'Auvergne, plotted
against the king, it was said against his life; and, as usual.




294              HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1609
they found support in a Spanish emissary. They were all
three arrested, tried, and condemned to death; but Henry
pardoned his mistress, as well as her relatives, and commuted
their punishment into exile. The restless and false d'Auvergne was confined permanently in the Bastille.
Squabbles with his queen, Mary of Medicis, on account of
her Italian favorites, Concini and his wife; distrust of Sully,
excited by the envious courtiers; these, with national improvements, negotiations, festivals, and hunting parties, bring
the reign of Henry IV. nearly to its close. In 1609, its happy
and glorious monotony was varied by the enthusiastic admiration which the aged monarch conceived for mademoiselle
de Montmorency, the young and lovely daughter of the constable, who had just appeared at court, and eclipsed all its
beauties. There is some difference of opinion as to the nature
of Henry's admiration: the memoir writers of the age saw
scandal in every connexion; and certainly Henry's past life
and his known failings incline to the worst side. Bassompierre, then a young man, relates that he himself became a
suitor for the beauty's hand, and that he was induced by the
entreaties or commands of the enamored king to desist. Bassompierre was a babbler, however, whose vanity breaks out
in the arrogance of the mere pretension. The young prince
ofrCond6 was also smitten, but shrunk back from so formidaole a rival as the monarch. What belies the account of Bassompierre is, that Henry came forward, and assured Conde,
" that he might woo in all confidence, and that he had nothing
to fear on that score from his king." If Henry had licentious
views, Bassompierre, and not Cond6, would have been the
convenient husband of mademoiselle de Montmorency.
Cond6 was the successful suitor, and the marriage was
celebrated at court with unusual splendor. Henry, having
given his word to the prince, indulged his predilection for
the lovely bride by showering presents upon her and her
husband. The court, full of the malevolent, amongst whom
the followers of the jealous queen were not the least forward,
construed all these symptoms to be the homage of a guilty pas.
sion: they poured this in the prince's ear; and Cond6, alarmed
for his wife's honor, carried her off from the court by stealth,
first to Picardy, whence, on receiving a summons from the
king to return, he made a second flight, and gained the Low
Countries. The king showed himself strangely affected by
this incident: the discovery of Biron's conspiracy did not
cause him more trouble. Sully was called up in the night;
and the whole court was roused by the agitation of the monarch, who was pacing and stamping up and down the chamber




1609.          PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.               295
of the queen, while the courtiers stood "pasted to the walls,"
says Sully, lest they should interrupt the monarch's passion.
The flight of the first prince of the blood, and his taking
refuge with the Spaniards, was certainly a grave question,
love and jealousy being set aside. The king demanded Sully's
advice, who hesitated, but being forced, advised him to "do
nothing."-" Nothing!" said Henry, "call you that advice "
Sully replied, that the escape of the prince was a matter of
little importance, unless the king chose to make it important
by raising a clamor, and showing that he took an interest
concerning it. Henry, however, was not in a humor to treat
the matter thus slightly and thus wisely: he instructed his
ambassador to demand of the archduke to deliver up the
prince and princess of Conde; and, as Sully foresaw, the
court of Brussels, in refusing, filled Europe with calumnies
against Henry; asserting that he wanted to take by force
the wife of the first prince of the realm and of the blood.
When Henry, immediately afterwards, menaced war, the
outcry was that Europe was about to be deluged in blood for
another Helen.
It was, indeed, unfortunate, that Henry, who had remained
so many years at peace, no doubt preparing and amassing the
materials and resources of war, and cautiously awaiting fit
pretext and proper season, should now draw the sword for a
cause at once criminal and absurd. To reduce the power of
the house of Austria was part of a universal scheme, long
meditated by Henry, and concerted by him with the politic
Elizabeth. This scheme, which was to parcel Europe out
into divers states, equal in extent and balanced in strength,
to be afterwards held together by a general congress, or
Amphictyonic council, existed more in the fancy than in
the intentions of the French monarch. It had slumbered,
but now started into life. He resolved to realize his dream:
but this, which had been a vision of heroism and philanthropy, was now degraded and sullied by the immediate
motive. Henry, who was passionately fond of glory, saw the
stain that was to rob his achievements of their brightness and
purity. The accusation of the Spaniards troubled him: perhaps there was even truth in the reproach, that the love of a
sexagenarian king for a princess, and a married princess, of
twenty, was the only cause and pretext for convulsing Europe
and shedding its best blood. This weighed upon Henry, and
fretted him: his gaiety disappeared. Remorse and mortification came to cloud the heaven of his declining days. A dark
presentiment, similar to that which had forewarned his loved
Gabrielle of her fate, now gathered around Henry: he could
not shake it off.




296               HISTORY OF FRANCE.                1610
He intended leaving the queen as regen  dJuring his ab
sence at the head of his army; and her previous coronation,
a ceremony that had not yet taken place, was considered
requisite. This detained him in the capital; and Mary of
Medicis, fond of state and ceremony, insisted on it, and delighted in it. Henry was annoyed and fretted: he frequently
said he should never leave Paris alive, and he longed to contradict his presentiment. The coronation of the queen at
length took place. On the following day, the 14th of May,
1610, he manifested strong feelings of despondency. Dispatches brought him word that his enemies were making no
preparations for defence, and that they gave out that the delivery of the prince and princess of Conde would at once allay
his choler and arrest his schemes. This increased his ill
humor: he called for Sully; but learning that his minister
was ill at the arsenal, the king's coach was ordered to convey
him thither. Seven of the suite occupied with the king his
ample carriage.  The duke of Epernon was in one corner,
and Henry next to him. The vehicle proceeded, but was
stopped in the narrow rue de la Ferronnerie by two loaded
carts. This was the moment chosen by an assassin, Ravaillac, who, mounting on the step, and leaning full into the carriage, struck the king with a poniard, first in the stomach,
and then in the breast. One of these stabs pierced the heart
of the noble Henry.
To paint the rage and despair of the people would be impossible. The once detested Henry had won every heart;
and the general grief for him partook of the character of madness. Tears were the least tokens of sorrow; many died on
learning the catastrophe, amongst others the brave De Vic,
the comrade of Henry. The lifeless body was borne to the
Louvre, whilst Ravaillac, who made no attempt to escape,
was taken, brandishing his dagger, and only preserved by the
guards from being instantly torn in pieces. He had been a
monk, strongly imbued with the king-killing principles that
the Jesuits had broached. His crime had been long meditated
by him; but no proof exists that he had been instigated either
by Spain or by any knot of malcontent courtiers. Suspicion,
indeed, has scattered its stain on all with an unsparing hand
Epernon, the queen, Concini, and many others, were accused
as being privy to the deed; and the record of Ravaillac's tria
having been destroyed whilst these personages possessed the
chief influence, gives some color to the charge. But the
tortured culprit might idly or malevolently cast imputation
on the powerful, as indeed he menaced to do. For when
some one pressed him to name his accomplices, Ravaillac anT




1610.          CHARACTER OF HENRY IV.               297
swered, "Suppose I name you."  The seed of his crime was
the diabolical maxim to which the fanaticism of the league
had given birth, and which it had rendered popular. It had
germinated and grown in the dark solitude of a rancorous
and fanatic spirit.
The character of Henry, if not altogether the most perfect,
is certainly the most interesting that history presents. To
enumerate his qualities were to repeat all that we admire in
the perfection of the modern gentleman. Such was he, another Francis I., with more good fortune, more military talent,
more humanity, more refinement, and with a career far more
calculated than that of Francis to illustrate the heroic virtues.
Then the interior and domestic life of Henry, made known
to us in the simple and sublime memorials of Sully, makes
us intimate with the man as with the monarch, and endears
him to us as the warm friend, the devoted lover, the generous
master, the frank and witty companion. His contemporaries,
who gave him the epithet of the Great, must have admired,
even more than they loved him. In our days, when the warlike feats of the past have been thrown so much into the
shade, we are inclined to reverse those feelings, and to love
more than to admire him.
Henry was no tyrant; but his reign had certainly a despotic tendency. He summoned no assembly of the states
where the tiers etat had a voice; but his position, much more
than his nature, influenced him in that line of policy. He had
suffered much from popular violence: he had had experience
of the fury of the sixteen, and the fanaticism of the mob
hii ed by the money of Spain. It is not to be expected, that
from remote or theoretic views of the public good he'should
have awakened and given life to this hydra. Besides, even in
the plenitude of his power, he was harassed by the insubordination of the Protestant towns and the assemblies of the
reformers. The wish of all good men was for peace and order.
The license of the past had thrown into disgrace the very
name of liberty, whose lasting victories can be won only
under the banners of moderation. To judge Henry at his
age then with our ideas, would be absurd; as to condemn him
because the circumstances of his reign were unfavorable to
the public liberties, is unjust.
Aristocratic as Henry was in feeling, he was still less so
than his minister Sully, many of whose prejudices in this respect he overruled. But the exclusive maxim of gentility
nevertheless prevailed. The civic class, trodden down in this
reign, were for nearly two centuries unable to rise. The cause
of this depression may be traced to their want of union and




298               HISTORY OF FRANCE.               1610.
firmness, and notwithstanding the majority of the capital
adhered to Catholicism: we must also take into account the
blindness with which both parties, choosing princes for their
leaders, allowed all public and general principle to be forgotten
and lost in the private interests and views of those chiefs.
END OF VOL L