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 DR. DORAN, 
 
 AriHOB OP ' THE KNIGHTS AND IHEIB DATS, 
 
 ' QUEENS OF ENGLAND OF THE HOUSE OF HANOVEB,' ' HABITS AND MEN, 
 
 ' TABLE TEAITS AND SOMETHING ON THEM.' 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 " I've thought, at gentle and ungentle hour, 
 Of many au act and giant-shape of power, 
 Of the old Kings with high-exacting looks. 
 Sceptred and globed." — Leigh Hunt. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 EICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, 
 
 ^nbltsbcr in ©rUinarg to |§cr iStajestg. 
 
 1857. 
 
 {The right of Translation is reserved.']
 
 PBINTED BT 
 
 JOHN EDWAED TATLOE, LIITLi: QUEEN STEEET, 
 
 LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS. 
 
 .>>
 
 RIGHT HON. HENRY, VISCOUNT LASCELLES 
 
 AND TO IHB 
 
 HON. EGREMONT WILLIAM LASCELLES 
 STfjcsE Folxtmes are EnsmbtlJ 
 
 WITH FEELINGS OF EESPECTFCL ATl^CHMENT 
 
 SY 
 
 THEIR DEVOTED FRIEND AND SERVANT, 
 
 THE AUTHOE.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The King! 1 
 
 Op some Sceipttjee Kings and Easteen Monaechs ... 31 
 
 Op some Soveeeigns of the Olden Time 43 
 
 The Canonized Ex-Kings 60 
 
 iSrttam. 
 
 Detheoned Beitish and Saxon Kiijgs 70 
 
 Deposed Kings feom the Conquest to James II. ... 85 
 
 James II. at St. Geemains 101 
 
 Deposed Monaechs op Scotland 155 
 
 Ieeland 164 
 
 Wales and Man 172 
 
 i)Ftance. 
 
 The Meeovingian Race, and the "Lazy Kings" .... 178 
 
 The Caelovingians, and Chaeles the Fat 185 
 
 The House of Capet, and Louis the Saint 188 
 
 King John in the Savoy 196 
 
 The Bouebons and Chaeles X 212 
 
 Louis Philippe 224 
 
 (Eotsfra. 
 
 Theodoee op Coesica 238 
 
 A Family of Kings 248
 
 Tin CONTENTS. 
 
 f^ollanti. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 William Feedeeick ; oe, All foe Love 289 
 
 Wi)z German (Smpixt. 
 
 Chaeles the Fat. — Heney IV 295 
 
 Chaeles V 309 
 
 Feedinaot) of Atjsteia 341 
 
 Boficmia. 
 
 The Wintee King 348 
 
 f^tmcjarg. 
 
 The Foue Deposed Kings of Hungaey 354 
 
 iSabaria. 
 
 LudwiG; the Lovee 364 
 
 Polanb. 
 
 The Eaely Abdications 371 
 
 John Casimie V 377 
 
 Stanislaus Leczinsei 387 
 
 Stanislaus Poniatowski 411
 
 MONAKCHS 
 RETIRED EROM BUSINESS. 
 
 THE KING! 
 
 " Oh, 'tis the sweetest of all earthly things, 
 To gaze on Princes and to talk of Kings !" — Pope. 
 
 The word King has had assigned to it a Germanic deriva- 
 tion, which implies the power of the privileged individual 
 by whom it is borne. The term is derived, we are told, from 
 hmnen, " to be able,"- — a man who emphatically can do, what 
 he pleases. The word is to be traced in many Germanic 
 names borne by exalted personages wielding sovereign 
 power; and the old Kimibalds, Kunigilds, Kunildas, and 
 the like, were, doubtless, irresponsible persons, who were 
 not to be questioned. 
 
 In the Old High- German language, the term Chuninc 
 (from Chunni, a race) signifies the " chief of a race." In 
 the Anglo-Saxon we have, according to Schwenke, the word 
 King under the forms Gyning, Cynig, Cyng, Cine, Cing, 
 Gingc, Cining, Gininc. The Swedish language gives it us 
 in Konung, the Danish in Konge, the Finnish in Kuningas. 
 The word Queen may be traced through the Anglo-Saxon 
 Gvaen, Cven, the Gothic Quino, and the terms used in various 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Z MOXAECnS EETIRED PBOM BUSIKESS. 
 
 parts of Germany in the ancient time — Queno, Cliena, Kona, 
 and even the Slavonic Shena, — to the Greek ywij, a woman. 
 The word Queen, with a slight difference in the speHiug, has 
 still that original meaning in English, where Quean implies 
 " woman," in the spirit with which it is used in the vulgar 
 tongue. Schwenke, in tracing both Xinr/ and Queen to the 
 Anglo-Saxon cennan, "to know," adds, tliat the word had 
 originally affinity with konnen, "to be able," "to beget." 
 There is the same affinity in the Greek yiyvwo-Kcti/ and 
 ytyvccr^at, and in tlie Latin noscere {fjnoscere) and nasci 
 {(jnasci). In the respective words, then, Kiiig and Queen, 
 there is implied union of knowledge and power. Mr. Shandy 
 would make much more of them ; but it will suffice to say 
 here that these wise and strong individuals were the actual 
 chiefs and the metaphorical parents of their race. 
 
 The Tartar Khan is probably another form of the word. 
 The Eussians, who are not Europeans, but descendants of 
 the wreck of the army of the Mogul Baton Khan, were ac- 
 customed, previous to their sudden conversion to Christia- 
 nity, to hail their supreme chief by the name of Konr/er. 
 Very zealous antiquarians affect to see the grand original of 
 "King" in Kenan (an uncle of Seth), who was especially 
 appointed by Heaven, ruler of the Uniyerse. 
 
 Cun, the British word for cliief or sovereign, has been 
 safely asserted to be cognate with Khan. Davies, in his 
 ' Mythology of the Druids,' states that Britisli Kings were 
 accustomed to appropriate to themselves some title of the 
 God to whom they were devoted. He cites as an example 
 Cunobelinus, " believed to be the royal name of Bran, Bren- 
 uus, the Haven, Caractacus's father." Cunobelinus is inter- 
 preted King or Lord JBelinus, a title of the Sun, — a title 
 which, Ave are assured, is often to be found on ancient Bri- 
 tish coins or talismans. 
 
 The word King may also be traced in tlic Gaelic. The 
 patron-saint of Glasgow is Mungo, or Kentigern. The
 
 THE KING ! 3 
 
 latter word is only expressive of the rank and office of the 
 saint. He was Keau-Tigherna, "chief ruler of the House of 
 the Lord." 
 
 Adam and Abraham have been included among Kings, both 
 being great chiefs among men. Some persons have even 
 ascribed to the former the title of " King of Kings," on 
 the ground that he was identical with David and IMessiah ; 
 a proof of which they see in his name, so di^'inely consti- 
 tuted in the Hebrew as to give the initials A. D. M. 
 
 There are a few etymologists who assert that the original 
 of the word is in " Cain," which may mean a "possession," 
 or to " envy," or to " lament," with all of which, Kings have 
 much to do. Abraham Zacutho gravely asserts that there 
 was extant, in his time, a letter addressed by Alexander to 
 Aristotle, in which the warrior informed the philosopher 
 that he had landed on a Persian island, where he heard no- 
 thing spoken but Greek (a circumstance not more singular 
 than the fact that at the present day, through a great 
 portion of Persia, little is spoken but Turkish), and that 
 he had seen there the grave of " Kenan, son of Enos," who 
 had been sole King of the world. 
 
 AVhatever may be the origin of the term (the Latin form 
 of which, Rex, is from the Hebrew Rosch, a chief, from 
 which is derived Rajah), the first man who wore it is said 
 to have been Shem, who is identified, by persons of more 
 than ordinary acuteness, with Melchizedek, King of Salem. 
 There is probably a truer, certainly a prettier, legend, which 
 makes of Nimrod the first King who ever wore a crown. 
 Pope Gregory YII. used to say that the priesthood was de- 
 rived from God himself, but that impei'ial power had first 
 been assumed by jS^imrod. The story runs thus, as told in 
 the Rabbinical traditions, and it fails to confirm the asser- 
 tion of Gregory. 
 
 Nimrod was abroad one day in the fields, following his 
 vocation of the chase. Happening to look up, he beheld in 
 
 B 2
 
 4 MONAECHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 the licjivens a figivre whicli resembled that subsequently so 
 f-imiliar to man — the figure of a crown. Tlic mighty hunter 
 summoned to his side the most skilful craftsman in gold, 
 who resided in the vicinity, and pointing out to him the 
 sfcill glittering shape in the sky, asked if he could fashion a 
 headpiece like that visibly intended for Nimrod by Heaven, 
 whence the pattern had expressly come. The artist an- 
 swered confidently in the affirmative, sketched the model, 
 and, in a short time, produced a radiant crown, which the 
 King for ever wore, and at which his subjects could sel- 
 dom look without peril of being blinded by its dazzling 
 glory. This is perhaps the first suggestion on record of 
 the right divine of monarchs ; and it is not impossible that 
 from ^S^imrod is derived the grand syllable here discussed. 
 That potentate was styled the mighty hunter ; and Kenaz, 
 which implies " hunting,'" is thus supposed to typify that 
 regal government to which people of old were subjected by 
 their rulers. 
 
 Of old, Kings were not necessarily sovereigns of nations. 
 Some of them were simply chiefs of cities, such as the King 
 of Sodom and the King of Gomorrah. Nicolaus Damascenus 
 even speaks of the ancestors of Abraham as " reigning," be- 
 cause thej' Avere proprietors not only of flocks and herds, 
 but also of men. 
 
 There is no mention in Scripture of a royal crown, as a 
 kingly possession, till the time when the Amalekites are 
 described as bringing Saul's crown to David. The first 
 Koman who wore a crown was Tarquin, B.C. 61G. It was 
 at first a mere fillet, then a garland, subsequently stuffs 
 adorned with pearls. Alfred is said to have been the first 
 English King who wore this symbol of authority, A.n. 872. 
 Athelstan (a.d. 929) wore a modern earl's coronet. In. 
 3053, Pope Damasius II. introduced the Papal cap. Thir- 
 teen years later, William the Conqueror added a coronet 
 witli points to his ducal cap. The Papal cap was not en-
 
 THE king! 5 
 
 circled with a crown till the era of John XIX. (1276). 
 Nineteen years afterwards Boniface VIII. added a second 
 crown. Benedict XII. completed the tiara, or triple crown, 
 about the year 1334. In 1386, Eichard II. pawned his 
 crown and regalia to the City of London for £2000. The 
 crosses on the crown of England were introduced by 
 Eichard III., 1483. The arches date from Henry VII. 
 (1485). The sceptre has undergone as many changes as the 
 crown. Originally it was a staff, intended for the support 
 of the monarch ; they who shortened it sometimes turned 
 it into a club, to lay prostrate their people. 
 
 The first quality of an ancient King was valour, Jose- 
 phus especially praises David, for the circumstance that 
 when war broke out, he did not send his people to battle, 
 but led them. He " went readily and first of all," says the 
 historian, " into danger, when he was to fight for his sub- 
 jects." Josephus lays down, that piety towards God, justice 
 towards the people, and care for the public welfare, are the 
 three great duties required of a King. Irresponsibility 
 however was long cherished as an unquestionable privilege 
 of royalty, and Antony said in reference to Herod, who was 
 the mere nominee of Eome, that " it was not good to require 
 an account of a King as to the afiairs of his government, 
 for at this rate he could be no King at all ; but that those 
 who had given him the authority ought to permit him to 
 make use of it." The Jewish historian has a less exalted 
 idea of the regal office than the Eoman Triumvir, and he 
 holds that Kings may be incited to virtue and humanity by 
 the good actions of their subjects. He evidently indorses 
 the old Latin maxim, " Eex datur propter regnum, non reg- 
 num propter regem." He would seem to maintain, what 
 indeed is the truth, that the monarch is greater than any 
 single individual, but less than the entire people ; or, as 
 Bractou pithily puts it, " Eex est major singulis, minor 
 universis."
 
 6 MO^'AEC^s eetired from busikess. 
 
 It may be here noticed, by the way, that although jS^imrod 
 be the first King named by Moses, — although his time is 
 fixed as being about three hundred and forty years after the 
 Flood, and that popular gratitude made a god of liim, and 
 gave him a place among the constellations, where he still 
 shines, the brilliant-belted Orion, — there is nevertlieless a 
 tradition of a royal Chaldean dynasty before the Deluge. Of 
 this apocryphal line there is said to have been ten kings ; 
 and the name of the first, whose accession is set down at 
 four hundi-ed and sixty years after the Creation, was Alorus, 
 or " Shepherd of his people," — a signification which should 
 be very suggestive to all contemporary monarchs in these 
 and succeeding times. Xisuther was the name of the last, 
 and he is said to have been identical with Noah ! 
 
 There is something very majestic in the details connected 
 with this sublime but cloudy race. One monarch is said to 
 liave reigned upwards of ten thousand years ! The sway of 
 another lasted, we are told, above sixty-four thousand years ; 
 and the dynasty itself endured the amazing period of nearly 
 lialf a million of years ! Some attempts have been made to 
 reconcile this with pi'obability, by substituting days for years. 
 The period even then will be foimd to be one of vast extent ; 
 but it is thought that, considering the dvu'ation of human 
 life before the Deluge, the alleged era of the Chaldean dy- 
 nasty may, in its improved form, be less likely to meet re- 
 jection. It is noticed here, chiefly for the sake of the tra- 
 dition which tells us that the name of the first King was 
 one indicative of gentle and careful guardianship, — " Shep- 
 herd of his people." 
 
 Before proceeding to notice the " King of Kings," in the 
 worldly sense of that title, let us remark that, for a long 
 time, among the Jews, there prevailed an idea that the Divine 
 Majesty, to whom alone such a title belongs, would never 
 dwell in any congregation that did not number more than 
 nine. If ten persons were not present in a synagogue, there
 
 THE king! 7 
 
 was no worship ; for the King of Kings was not supposed 
 to be present. Liglitfoot quotes Eabbi Jonathan as saying, 
 " When the holy blessed God cometh into the synagogue, 
 and findeth not ten there, he is presently angry ; as it is 
 said, Wherefore came I, and there was no man .'"' Among 
 the Jews therefore it required more than nine persons to 
 make one individual. 
 
 The proud title of "King of Kings" was allowed to 
 monarchs who had Kings for their vassals. It is authorita- 
 tively given in Scripture to the King of Babylon ; it was a 
 title of Artaxerxes ; it was assumed by Mithridates, in 
 Pontus ; by Tigranes, in Armenia ; by Vologeses, in Parthia. 
 It was the disthictive appellation of the King of Abyssinia 
 in the time of Bruce ; and it is this day worn by the most 
 contemptible of the crowned slaves in Asia, the Shah Inshah, 
 King of Kings, who has his sovereign seat in Persia. 
 Some of the old Irish potentates arrogated to themselves 
 this title, but that was before the Christian era. Setting 
 aside the Christian ruler of Abyssinia, the title of King of 
 Kings has never been assumed by Christian monarchs. The 
 Pagan title sounded sacrilegious in their ears ; it was one 
 which belonged, they thought, to the Almighty alone ; and 
 the words " Christ is the King of Kings" were impressed 
 on the exergue of the coins of several of the Greek Em- 
 perors, with whom tliis easy homage constituted all their 
 Christianity. 
 
 Justinus, when supporting the antiquity of the regal 
 power, remarks, " Prineipio, rerum geutiumque imperium 
 penes reges erat." Julius Caesar refused the title, but took 
 the tiling. He knew the rooted dislike of the people to the 
 royal title, and he retained the then more modest term of 
 Imperator, — originally, a militaiy commander-in-chief. The 
 Eastern Emperors however remembered that, of old, King 
 was a higher title than that which they commonly bore ; and 
 though they did not suppress the imperial distinction, they
 
 8 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSIKESS. 
 
 heightened their dignity by adding /Sao-tXevs, or " King," to 
 their title of Emperor or Autocrat. The Emperors of the 
 "West, when they were but very small personages, retained 
 the title adopted by Cajsar, apparently because that of King 
 was assumed by the barbarian rulers of the Goths, Pranks, 
 and Lombards. The Emperors of the East distinguished 
 lesser potentates, not by the regal title, but by that of Phyx. 
 In more modern times — that is to say, in the days of the old 
 German Empire — the term King of the Eomaus simply de- 
 signated the successor to the Empire. To have such a suc- 
 cessor ready, in an empire that was not hereditary, was of 
 great importance, to avoid tumult. In hereditary mon- 
 archies the King never dies, and tumult is not apprehended. 
 The right to create a King is said to reside in an Em- 
 peror. The Pope has claimed or exercised the right, but 
 not without protest. Cosmo, Duke of Florence, was crowned 
 by a Pontiff, but the Emperor Maximilian forbade him to 
 assume a regal title. It seem.ed absurd to Maximilian that a 
 Pope, who could not, with strict legality, create Counts, should 
 create Kings ; and yet the Imperial title itself was thought 
 all the more safe for having the Pontifical sanction. Gene- 
 rally speaking, however. Kings derive from Emperors. A 
 decree of the Senate indeed made Herod, King of Judaea ; 
 but Nero appointed Tii-idates, King of Armenia. Wenccs- 
 laus. King of Bohemia, owed his title to the great Em- 
 peror Otho ; and from the Imperial German throne issued 
 the patent which raised Ducal Poland to a kingdom. On 
 the other hand, Charles the Bald created Bozones, King of 
 Burgundy. The Pranks have been mentioned as calling 
 their leader by the regal title ; but in earlier times, that 
 wai'likc people preferred the name of " Leader" to that of 
 " King." Dux was, in their ears, a more wortliy name thau 
 Bex ; and Herzog, " lord leader" (of an army), which is the 
 modem German name for Didce, was the most popular title 
 on the lips of a Frank.
 
 THE kino! 9 
 
 "Whether the Popes cau, of right, make or unmake Kinga, 
 is a question on which opinion is pronounced in various 
 ways. The Pontifical court however certainly established 
 the royal table of precedency. It thus stood in the days 
 before the Reformation : — 
 
 1. The King of the Somans, heir to the German 
 
 Empire. 
 
 2. King of France. 
 
 3. Castile and Spain. 
 
 4. Arragon. 
 
 5. Portugal. 
 
 6. England. 
 
 7. Sicily. 
 
 8. Scotland. 
 
 9. Hungary. 
 
 10. Navarre. 
 
 11. Cyprus. 
 
 12. Bohemia. 
 
 13. Poland. 
 
 14. Scandinavia. 
 
 England does not rank high in this list, but she stoutly 
 claimed to stand third. There was great jealousy touching 
 her royal precedence. It was curiously illustrated a year 
 after the Battle of Agincourt. A council assembled at Con- 
 stance, and the Ereuch envoys objected to any representa- 
 tives of the King of England being received there, on ac- 
 count of the insignificance of the kingdom and its deeds ! 
 It was an iU time to make such a protest, and the represen- 
 tatives of England took their place. With regard to Sicily 
 and Portugal, each claimed to be first ; and Scotland, Hun- 
 gary, Navarre, and Cyprus, each asserted its right to place 
 the dignity of its respective crown immediately after Sicily. 
 In 1564, Maximilian protested against an attempt of the 
 French to disturb an order of precedency established by 
 the Pontifical office; but the French remarked that they 
 
 B 3
 
 10 MO^^AEC^s retireb from business. 
 
 did not care a maravedi for such authority, and would rank 
 crowns as tlioy themselves thought most fitting. The re- 
 presentatives of the French King, however, were content 
 to abide by the established order at the negotiations in 
 1648 for the Peace of AV'estphalia ; and at the Council-board 
 they took precedence of Sweden. The time however had 
 arrived when such forms were no longer true symbols, and 
 the French envoys were told that all crowns were equal ; — 
 except that a King, who was the guest of another, always 
 ranked before his host. At the late Conferences in Paris, it 
 will be remembered, the representatives of the diflferent im.- 
 perial and regal powers avoided all difficulties by adopting 
 an alphabetical order of precedence ; — and this will hence- 
 forward be the established form. 
 
 The old French writer Montreuil, writing upon the sub- 
 ject of his death, remarks that, as persons on going to sleep 
 put out the candle, he is sorry, for his part, that on sinking 
 into his " eternal sleep" he cannot annihilate the universe 
 and extinguish the sun. This ferocious sentiment haunted 
 more than one Eomau monarch, few of whom died Avithout 
 hopes that their successors would be greater tyrants than 
 themselves. Tiberius especially chuckled at the thought 
 that the infamy of the ill-promising Caligida would cause 
 himself to be regretted. 
 
 St. Chrysostom says, that even good kings are not exempt 
 from a feeling which the Saint himself appears to consider 
 rather natural tlian otherwise. He adds, that the very best 
 of them like to be aided, but not to be excelled. We have an 
 example of this in the Czar Nicholas and General Mouravieff. 
 At a sham fight tlie Czar and the General commanded opposite 
 divisions of the Russian army; the Autocrat bade the Com- 
 mander look to himself, for he woidd assail him vigorously ; 
 Mouravieff let him come on, fled, and caused the Czar to be 
 delight(Ml willi tlie prospect of gaining a victoiy in tlic eyes 
 of his holiday people ; but Mouravieff so skilfully manoeuvred
 
 THE king! 11 
 
 that, by a well-timed charge, he enveloped the Czar and Im- 
 perial staff, and took them prisoners. Nicholas kept him at 
 a distance for years, and hated him for ever. 
 
 Alva had a better knowledge of Kings than Mouravieff 
 had, or than that Spanish lord who lost his promotion by 
 beating Phillip II. at chess. " They will serve you," said 
 the great Duke to a young coTirtier, " as men serve oranges 
 — throw you aside after squeezing you dry ; they will read 
 you as a book, and, as men do with books, cast you aside 
 and forget you." 
 
 The pithiest and also the most profound sayings touching 
 Kings, are to be found in that trite but too little-kncnTi 
 storeliouse of wisdom, the ' Maxims of State of the Marquis 
 of Halifax.' "A prince who falleth out with the laws," he 
 says, "breaketh with his best friends." This sacred respect 
 for sacred law is again impressed on the King in the follow- 
 ing admirable sentence : — " The exalting his own authority 
 above his laws, is like letting in his enemy to surprise his 
 guards : the laws are the only guards he can be siu'e will 
 never run away from him." More " smart," in its way, 
 is the definition of arbitrary power: "it is," says Halifax, 
 " Hke most other things that are very hard, they are also 
 very brittle," And how exquisitely is a disagreeable conclu- 
 sion hinted at in the subjoined pai-agraph ! — " If a Prince 
 does not show an aversion to knaves, there will be an infe- 
 rence that will be very natural, let it be never so unman- 
 nerly." In another and perhaps even richer form we have 
 a similar sentiment enunciated : " Where the least useful 
 part of the people have the most credit with the Prince, men 
 will conclude that the way to get everything is to be good 
 for nothing." It will be hardly trespassing on a reader's 
 patience to ask him to read and admire the maxims next 
 quoted : — " The Prince is to take care that the greater part 
 of the people be not angn' at the same time ; for though the 
 first beginning of their ill-humour should be against one an-
 
 12 MO^'ARC^s eetieed feom business. 
 
 other, yet, if not stopt, it will naturally end in anger against 
 him." A concentrated -wisdom may be said to lie in the 
 words which he addresses to foolishly self-opinionated mou- 
 archs : "Changing hands," he says, "without changing 
 measures, is as if a drunkard in a dropsy should chauge his 
 doctors and not his diet." There is something grand too in 
 the solemn warning, which Halifax indeed was not the first 
 to give, but which none has expressed so well, and neglect of 
 which has uselessly shed the blood and squandered the trea- 
 sures of England, in these our own times. " Quality alone," 
 says Halifax, " should only serve to make a show ui the em- 
 broidered part of the government ; but ignorance, though 
 never so well-born, should never be admitted to spoil the pub- 
 lic business." Finally, and to bring back the maxims to their 
 personal application to the King, it may be said that neglect 
 of the truth contained in the following maxim caused nine- 
 tenths of the depositions narrated in these pages, and will 
 cause many others yet to come. "A people," exclaims our 
 political philosopher, — " a people may let a King fall, and yet 
 remain a people ; but if a King let his people slip from him, 
 he is no longer a King." 
 
 AVith respect to the style and title of Kings, it may be here 
 stated that the royal " We " represents, or was supposed ori- 
 ginally to represent, the source of the national power, glory, 
 and intellect, in the august power of the Sovereign. " Le Eoi 
 le veut " — the King will have it so — sounded as arrogantly 
 as it was meant to sound in the royal Norman mouth. It is a 
 mere form, now that royalty in England has been relieved of 
 responsibility. In haughtiness of expression it was matched 
 by the old Prench formula at the end of a decree : " For 
 such is our good pleasure." Tlie royal subscription in 
 Spain, " Yo, el Re," I, the King, has a thundering sort of 
 echo about it too. The only gallant expression to be found 
 in royal addresses was made by the Kings of France, that is, 
 by the married Kings. Thus, when tlie French monarch
 
 THE king! 13 
 
 summoned a Council to meet upon affairs of importance, and 
 desired to liave around him the princes of the blood and the 
 wiser nobility of the realm, his Majesty invariably commenced 
 his address vrith the words, " Having previouslj^ consulted 
 on this matter with the Queen," etc. It is very probable, 
 almost certain, that the King had done nothing of the sort ; 
 but the assurance that he had, seemed to give a certain sort 
 of dignity to the consort in the eyes of the grandees and the 
 people at large. Old Michel de Marolles was proud of this 
 display of gallantry on the part of the Kings of France. 
 "According to my thinking," says the garrulous old Abbe 
 of YilleloLn, " this is a matter higlily worthy of notice, al- 
 though few persons have condescended to make remarks 
 thereon do^Ti to this present time." 
 
 It may here be added, with respect to English Kings, that 
 the first " King's speech " ever delivered was by Henry I., 
 in 1107. Exactly a century later, Kuig John first assumed 
 the royal " We :" it had never before been employed in 
 England. The same monarch has the credit of having 
 been the first English King who claimed for England the 
 sovereignty of the seas. " Grace" and "my Liege" were 
 the ordinary titles by which our Henry IV. was addressed. 
 "Excellent Grace " was given to Henry VI., who was not 
 the one, nor yet had the other. EdAvard IV. was " Most 
 High and Mighty Prince." Henry VII. was the first English 
 " Higlmess." Henry VIII. was the first complimented by 
 the title of "Majesty;" and James I. prefixed to the last 
 title " Sacred and Most Excellent." 
 
 D' Israeli, when treating of titles of Monarchs, says that 
 "illustrious" was not known till the time of Constantine ; 
 that it afterwards became very common, descending to petty 
 princes, nobles, and (if that be a descent) to poets, and 
 finally to cardinals. The latter humble individuals dropped 
 the title when it became common, and took that of " Excel- 
 lence." This last title was the one by which Spanish princes
 
 14 MOXAECHS EETIRED TKOil BrSIJfESS. 
 
 were distingauslied at a time wheu " Highness," as belong- 
 ing to the King only, would have been accoimted as treason 
 if arrogated by any below the throne. At last, the Car- 
 dinals, despising to be "illustrious" and not choosing to 
 share " excellence," first with princes, and next with their 
 representatives, pronounced themselves " Eminent," and have 
 since remained so. As for " Highness," an honest curate 
 refused to give it to the Duke of Mantua, because his Bre- 
 viary contained the words " Domiuus solus Altissimus." 
 
 When so many were hailed illustrious, the flatterers hailed 
 the Imperial Monarch as " super-illustrious." The abuse 
 of royal titles went to such an excess in Spain, that at last 
 Philip III., weary of them, suppressed all, and commanded 
 that in future " the King our Lord" should constitute the 
 form by which the Monarch should be addressed. " Most 
 Serene" was the title of many a royal savage; and "Your 
 Grace" was applied to as many in whom the quality was 
 not to be found. "Highness" was an ordinary royal title, 
 on which petty princes soon seized ; just as, when Charles 
 v., in his quality of Emperor, took the title of " Majesty," 
 the high-sounding appellation was immediately adopted by 
 all existing sovereigns, as it has been by their successox's. 
 The title, however, is said to have been first assumed in 
 France by Louis XL, the least majestic of monarchs, and 
 to have been first applied to an English King, as just no- 
 ticed, in the person of Hejiry VIIL, who was saluted under 
 that complimentary name by Erancis I. 
 
 In treating of sovereign titles, by which barbaric sove- 
 reigns have been distinguished, D'Israeli notices a few that 
 may be here cited. The Chief of the Natchez was "the 
 Child of the Sun ;" the King of Quiteroa was " the Eoyal 
 Lion ;" and the King of Monomotapa was not only " Great 
 Magician" and " Lord of the Sun and IMoon," but " Great 
 Thief." Among the titles of tlie Empci'or of Arracan are 
 those which show him to be " Possessor of the White Ele-
 
 THE Kiisra! 15 
 
 pliant and the two ear-riugs," and " Lord of the twelve kings 
 who place their heads under his feet." The King of Ava 
 combines the blasphemously sublime Avith the obviously ridi- 
 culous : he is " God ;" he is " King of Kings ;" he is " Pre- 
 server of all life," "Eegulator of the seasons," "absolute 
 master of the ebb and flow of the sea," "brother to the 
 sun," and " King of the four-and-twenty umbi*ellas !" 
 
 Something very like divinity was ascribed to our own 
 James I. by many men who addressed him, and in whom we 
 should have expected to find more wisdom and decency. 
 The same ascription was the delight of barbaric monarchs. 
 The King of Achem was said to be " as spiritual as a ball is 
 round," "whose body is luminous as the sun," "whom God 
 created to be accomplished as the moon in her plenitude," 
 " who when he rises shades all his people," and "from under 
 whose feet a sweet odour is wafted." This last quality seems 
 to have been insisted upon by other barbarian Kings. Of him 
 of Kandy it is said, not only that he is his j)eoj)le's " god 
 by custom," but that his " feet are as fragrant to the noses of 
 other kings as flowers to bees." The " rose of delight," as 
 ascribed to the Shah, is probably by way of warrant that his 
 Majesty is not ill-smelling. These potentates were ever like 
 the Laureate's 
 
 " Oil'd and cmi'd Assyi'iau Bvdl, 
 
 Smelling of musk and of insolence ;" 
 
 and their 
 
 " Essences tum'd the live air sick ; 
 And barbarous opulence, jewel-thick, 
 Sunn'd itself on their breast and their hands." 
 
 The great Julius refused to be called even "demigod." 
 Napoleon said of the Czar Alexander, that he was merely a 
 cheating Greek of the Lower Empire. It is singular that 
 it is only to the Czars that are now addressed the blasphe- 
 mous titles of the Eastern and Western Empires. The 
 people who oppose the Czars are " sacrilegious ;" the memory
 
 16 MONAECHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 of those monarclis is " divine ;" their letters, liovrever men- 
 dacious, are " holy ;" and Prince Menschikoff did not hesitate 
 to assert of Nicholas, after his death, that he was " seated in 
 the clouds beckoning his armies to victory !" Mr. Tenny- 
 son had a more acute vision when alluding to this monarch, 
 before the catastrophe of his death and the downfall of his 
 stronghold ; he said, — 
 
 " And God's just doom shall be wreak'd ou a giant liar." 
 
 The old problem, having reference as to what system of 
 government is most profitable to the governed, still remains 
 unsolved. There was one of the Ptolemys who, like our 
 own Charles II., was very fond of conversing privately on 
 this subject with the ambassadors at his court. On one 
 occasion, the Egyptian King entertained some of these le- 
 gates at dinner. When they had finished the royal luxury, 
 the goose, — when they had enjoyed the dish which very 
 nearly resembled our plum-pudding, and had drunk their 
 barley-wine, — they fell into a pleasant discussion, touching 
 the most beneficial sort of government. The haughty Ro- 
 man referred to the magnificence of the temples, the sub- 
 raissiveness of the people, and the severity of punishment 
 visited on the wicked, as a proof that nothing could equal 
 the Imperial system. The other half-dozen envoys turned 
 restlessly on their cushions as they heard the vaunt. What 
 was proved by a crushed people and glowing edifices ? 
 " At Carthage," said the Punic Ambassador, craclcing nuts 
 between his knuckles as he spoke, " our nobles are for 
 ever fighting, our workmen for ever toiling, and our philoso- 
 phers for ever teaching." Upon this, the Sicilian minister 
 remarked, with a smile, " In our Commonwealth, judges are 
 not partisans ; lawyers do not pledge their consciences in 
 support of falsehood ; every man in trade is honest ; and 
 all men are really and truly equal." And then the Rhodian, 
 raising a brow which looked as polished as ivorj^, and extend-
 
 THE KING ! 17 
 
 ing a liand. soft and "wliite as a girl's and jewelled like a 
 king's, said, in musical tones, "At Rhodes there is that too, 
 and much more : thei'e the old men are honest, the young 
 men are modest, and women of all ages never speak more 
 than is absolutely necessary." The Athenian Ambassador 
 sighed as he heard this testimony in favour of tlie Ehodian 
 ladies, and thought of his too loquacious Lalage at home. He 
 confined himself accordingly to a political testimony, and he 
 averred that "in the Athenian Commonwealth the rich were 
 not allowed to divide themselves into factions, nor the poor 
 to be idle, nor the governors to be ignorant." The whole 
 company having shaken with laughter at the impudence of 
 the assertion, the Lacedaemonian cliarge d'affaires roughly 
 and rapidly exclaimed, " At home, in Sparta, there is neither 
 envy, avarice, nor sloth, for one man there is as good as 
 another ; all property is common, and every citizen must 
 work if he wotdd live." 
 
 " O godlike Majesty !" piped the complacent-looking Sicy- 
 onian Ambassador, "how much happier is our State than 
 that to which any one of my colleagues belong ! We never 
 permit our people to travel, and so they never acquire new- 
 fangled notions ; we do not allow a physician to live among 
 us, being too fond of life ourselves ; and, by not tolerating 
 lawj'ers, we keep our citizens strangers to dissensions and 
 mendacity." The Ambassadors looked to their royal host to 
 decide between them. " AVhat do I know about it ?" asked 
 he, sleepily — and trvJy ; for it was to him that ApeUes sent 
 the celebrated picture of a King, in which the monarch was 
 represented seated in a chair, with great hands, to denote 
 his cupidity, and great ears, to symbolize his credulity ; in 
 waiting upon him were Ignorance, Suspicion, Treason, and 
 Flattery. Ptolemy thought of the allegorical painting, and 
 not well knowing how to apply it and profit by the applica- 
 tion, simply expressed an opinion which neither did justice 
 to his state nor settled the question. He wished that kings 
 might ever do as they pleased, and that their attendants
 
 18 MOKAECHS EETIEED FEOM BIJSIKESS. 
 
 would never cease being honest. The Egyptian wish has 
 never prevailed. The greatest despot is compelled to make 
 concessions, and to be surrounded by sycophants. When 
 Constantiue affected to relapse into Paganism, half the no- 
 bility of his court set their altars smoking ; and when an- 
 nouncement was made in the crowded chapel at Versailles 
 that the Grand Monarqiie would not be present, the whole 
 congregation rushed out, without waiting for the prayers. 
 The people however are seldom flatterers. When Marcus 
 Antoninus declared a levy of a double tax, his subjects re- 
 plied, they would pay it when he could give them two sum- 
 mers, two harvests, and two vintages in one year. Here 
 was a spirit of liberty ; and freedom has often been accepted 
 as a compensation for many disadvantages ; always indeed, 
 except by the Cappadocians, who declared to the Eomans 
 that they would neither accept liberty for themselves, nor 
 allow the enjoyment of it to others. Not so thought the 
 Arragonese : never, perhaps, were people and King on such 
 independent terms as the men of Arragon and their sove- 
 reign. 
 
 The little Kingdom of Arragon occupied as rough and 
 unprofitable a locality as could well be imagined. " But 
 what of that ?" said the Arragonese ; " what matters climate 
 or soil ? we have liberty, and that compensates for both !" 
 Assuredly the monarchs of this kingdom were not highly 
 privileged mortals. The kingdom itself stood from the 
 year 901 to 1479, when, by the marriage of Ferdinand of 
 Arragon with Isabella of Castile, nearly the whole of Spain 
 was united under one sceptre. During an existence of 
 nearly six centuries, it saw many revolutions, annexations 
 to, and separations from, other crowns. Its own royal 
 crown was only a little more ornamented tlian the coronets 
 of the nobles. The royal authority was put in check at 
 almost every move. It seemed the vocation of the people 
 to try and detect their King in a fault, or to " catch him 
 napping," and make him pay the penalty. Each man
 
 THE KING ! 19 
 
 thouglit himself as good as tlie King ; and the community 
 together accounted themselves, in their totality, as infiuitely 
 better. When the Arragonese accepted a new sovereign, 
 they promised to obey hiin if he obeyed the law, and, in 
 their peculiar phrase, "if not, not!" They had a charter 
 which authorized them to throw aside their allegiance to a 
 King who did not reign according to law. In 1348 Pedro 
 IV. cut the charter in two with his dagger. He slashed 
 his own fingers as he committed the act of violation, and he 
 cursed a parchment which could not be cut in two without 
 shedding a King's blood. There was a very active legal of- 
 ficer, who was called " Justicia," and who was the mediator 
 between King and people, but generally the defender of 
 the latter against the Monarch. In all grievances the peo- 
 ple made appeal to the Justicia ; they did so long after the 
 ancient crown had merged into that of Spain. Thus in 
 1591 they made such appeal, and Philip II. evinced his 
 contempt for it by marching an army into Arragon and 
 hanging the Justicia. After such an act of rigour his Ma- 
 jesty found no one willing to succeed to the vacant office. 
 Gradually the royal power in Arragon grew less responsible, 
 but it was only in 1707 that the Arragonese liberty was en- 
 tirely abolished, and Philip V. reigned and governed, ac- 
 cording to his good pleasure, quite regardless of the " if 
 not, not,''' of the old compact of the nobility of Arragon 
 with their chief magistrate. Philip, in short, was like Ko- 
 hendil Khan, who once asked General Perrier the simple 
 query, " What is a King who cannot, Avhen he pleases, bas- 
 tinado one of his subjects and cut off his head?" Where 
 such a right was not existing, the Khan declared that " it 
 is turning the world upside down ; the most terrible thing 
 that can be seen ; it must be permanent anarchy. I think," 
 added the sublime Afghan logician, " I think despotism 
 therefore appears the best form of government for doing 
 good!"
 
 20 MOKAHCIIS RETIRED FROM BUSTIs'ESS. 
 
 It canuot be questioned that despots generally think like 
 Kohendil Khan. And yet the most stringent of them have 
 been capable of great actions. Such qualification may be 
 given to one particular proceeding of Alexander the Great. 
 "When an informer came to him with a criminal charge 
 against an absent person, the ^Monarch used to clap his 
 hand over one ear, reserving that, as he said, for the story 
 of the accused. Even Tiberius so far respected the powers 
 of taxation as to remark, that a truly royal shepherd would 
 shear his flock close, but would not devour them. Antoni- 
 nus Pius, who, in spite of his reputation, was a sharp ruler, 
 preferring the weal of his people to military glory, once de- 
 clared that he should feel more pride in saving the life of 
 one of his own subjects than in killing five hundred of the 
 enemy. 
 
 The philosophers too have never ceased to preach good 
 truths to "tyrants," — a name originally given to all rulers, 
 till " King" was used to distinguish those who were above 
 their fellow-monarchs in virtue. Pythagoras, the great and 
 enlightened reformer of his day, by whose torch Copernicus 
 gave light to the universe, says that subjects are to princes 
 as the air is to fire, — the more there is of the first, the 
 brighter will be the glory of the second. Seneca, with 
 equal force, avers that the inexpugnable force of a King lies 
 in the love of his subjects ; and Anacharsis, writing to the 
 Athenians on the choice of a king, sets down as tlie neces- 
 sary moral vij-tues in the person to be selected, — justice in 
 judgment, truth of word, constancy of action, reserve in 
 planning, promptitude in execution, and a liberal spirit to- 
 wards all. Kings themselves have not always heeded either 
 philosophical or practical teaching. Our Saxon King Sel- 
 dred was warned that if he did not reform he would come 
 to a bad end; and when we read that he was ultimately 
 killed "by a devil at a great feast," credence may be given 
 to the story, and the name of the devil guessed at with
 
 THE KISQ ! 21 
 
 tolerable correctness. In like manner, when old chroniclers 
 inform us that Mamprisius, King of Britain, was devoured 
 by wolves, the accovmt may perhaps be taken in a meta- 
 phorical rather than a real sense. For there is a legend in 
 Africa, that a wolf will respect the corpse of a King. This 
 tradition lield good as recently as 1828, when Chaka, that 
 grave Kaffir King (who put a merry fellow to death, be- 
 cause the joker made him laugh), was murdered by his bro- 
 thers : these left the hodj out all night in the fields, to be 
 devoured by the wolves ; in the morning they found it un- 
 touched ; and they confessed that they should have known 
 better, for that of course the wolves would never eat a 
 King. 
 
 Some sovereigns indeed have seemed to consider that as 
 they were almost above humanity when living, they might 
 defy corruption when dead. Edward I. must have been influ- 
 enced by some such idea, and have considered that he would 
 be for ever grateful to nose and eye, when he gave orders 
 that his tomb should be opened every year or two, and that 
 his body should then have the benefit of a new cerecloth ; 
 he might have been content with what some persons think 
 he meant, namely a new paU for his coffin. The dead 
 Danish Kings at Eoskilde have not even that, but vast mag- 
 nificence encases their corruption notwithstanding. The 
 regal coffins there stand open to view, in chapels or crypts. 
 They "are separated from the spectator," says Dr. Clarke, 
 " only by an iron palisade ; and as they are very magnificent, 
 being covered with rich embossments of silver and gold, 
 and the most costly chase-work, the efiect is very striking. 
 They seem intended to lie in state as long as the Danish 
 monarchy shall endure." "We have had less respect for the 
 remains of our own old Kings, as will be allowed by those 
 who remember that the Chapel at Kingston, in which many 
 of those early potentates were buried, was destroyed by 
 digging a gi-ave near the foundation of one of the pillars !
 
 22 MONAECHS RETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 There are instances since tliat of Ptolemy and tlie am- 
 bassadors, noticed above, of discussions among rixlers them- 
 selves, if not perhaps as to the merits of governing systems, 
 at least as to the degrees of felicity enjoyed by rulers and 
 ruled. Korner has recorded one such instance in one of 
 the prettiest of German ballads, wherein we are told that 
 several Grerman sovereigns were once at table in the Impe- 
 rial hall at Worms, where, over their wine, they made boast 
 each of the wealth and extent of his own dominions. The 
 Prince of Saxony glorified the might and majesty of his 
 territory, and complacently talked of the silver that lay for 
 his use, "within many a Saxon hill. 
 
 " J have no silver," said the Elector of the Rhine, " but I 
 have a fertile land, where the valleys teem with golden corn, 
 and the hillsides give promise of immortal wine." 
 
 "And /," exclaimed Bavarian Ludvsdg, "am inferior to 
 neither of you in wealth. Eich commercial cities and weal- 
 thy convents bring tributes as rich as Saxon silver or Hhe- 
 nish corn and wine." 
 
 At this, Eberhard the Bearded, who was sovereign lord 
 of Wiirtemberg, quietly remarked, " In mi/ land there are 
 no large cities nor sparkling mines ; nevertheless there is a 
 jewel of great worth to be found there. In the wildest of 
 its woods, I can lay my weary head to sleep, without fear, 
 on any subject's breast." For a moment the Lords of Sax- 
 ony, Bavaria, and the Bhine looked at one another in amaze- 
 ment ; but, suddenly struck with the meaning of the last 
 speaker, they smote the table with their hands, and ex- 
 claimed, " Oh, lucky Lord with the stupendous beard, you 
 are the richest of us aU ! Tour territory is full of j)recious 
 stones!" 
 
 That a people's love is the richest jewel in a cro^A^^ is a 
 truth not to be denied ; but even therewith a sovereign is no 
 more secvu-e of unalloyed happiness than ordinary indivi- 
 duals exposed to the common lot ; but this love itself will
 
 THE ki^g! 23 
 
 staud for happiness, — compensate for miicli that cannot be 
 attained, and l>e a solace for much that has been forfeited. 
 
 There is a story told of an anonymous King, the moral of 
 which may be well applied by all sovereigns. The old mon- 
 arch, when dying, called his son to him, put in his hand 
 the sceptre, and then asked him if he could take advice as 
 easily as he had taken from his father the symbol of autho- 
 rity. The young heir, grasping the sceptre tightly, and 
 hinting at the excellence of brevity in coimsel as well as in 
 wit, said, under the circumstances, "he could." 
 
 "I will be brief as my breath," answered the abdicating 
 monarch, "and that is short enough. Tou look upon the 
 world, boy, as a house of pleasvu'e ; now, hear better from 
 me. "Woe, my lad, tumbles in pailfulls, and good luck is 
 only distilled in drops." 
 
 The son looked down at his now silent sire, and found he 
 was dead. The new King commanded a splendid funeral, 
 and arranged a grand hunting party for the day after. He 
 laughed at the paternal simile, and, to publish its weakness 
 and his o-\vn felicity, he caused to be placed above his palace 
 a large silver-toned bell : a rope passed from it to each room 
 which he occupied. "I will ring it," said he, "whenever I 
 feel thoroughly happy. I have no doubt that I shall weary 
 my own arm and deafen my people's ears." 
 
 For a whole month the bell was silent. " I have had my 
 hand on the rope," said the King, "fifty times, but I felt 
 that I was hardly happy enough to proclaim it to my people ; 
 but we have got over our first difiicuJties, and tomorrow—'''' 
 
 On the morrow, as he was boasting of the fidelity and 
 friendship of one of his IMinisters, he learned that his friend 
 and servant was in the habit of betraying the contents of 
 his private despatches to a neighbouring potentate, from 
 whom the traitor received stars and crosses in return. The 
 King sighed, " We shall not toll the bell, then, today ; but 
 assuredlv tomorrow."
 
 24 MONARCHS EETIEED TROM BUSINESS. 
 
 In the morning he rode over to the house of the mistress 
 of his heart. " There," he remarked to himsehf, as he went 
 along in that pace which used to be observed by the pilgrims 
 to Canterbury, and which in England has taken its name 
 from the first two syllables of the city's name, — " there I 
 have never found disappointment." What he did find he 
 never told ; but on his return to the palace, when his groom 
 of the chambers looked interrogatively between him and the 
 bell-rope, tlio monarch simply twisted the end of the latter 
 into a noose, and angrily muttered, as he flung it dovra 
 again, " "Would to heaven that they were both hanging from 
 it together ! ' ' 
 
 On the foUoATing day he philosophically reviewed his case. 
 "I have been unreasonable," he said; "why should I grieve 
 because I have been betrayed by a knave, and jilted by a 
 girl with golden hair ? I have wide dominions, a full trea- 
 sury, a mighty army, laughing vineyards, verdant meadows, 
 a people who pay taxes as if they loved them, and God's 
 free air to breathe in. I may be happy yet," added he, ad- 
 vancing to the window, — "nay, I am!'' and he reached his 
 hand to the rope. He was on the very point of ringing at 
 it with goodwill, when he saw a sight without, and heard a 
 voice within, which made him pause. 
 
 A messenger was at his feet. " Oh, Sire !" ezclaimed the 
 bringer of bad tidings, " thou seest the dust, the fii-es, and 
 the gleam of arms without. The foe has broken in upon the 
 land, and terror is before and devastation behind him!" 
 
 "jSTow, a curse upon kingship, that brings a wretched 
 monarch evils like these !" cried the King who wanted to be 
 happy. The courier hinted something about the miseries of 
 the people. " By that Lady of Hate, whose church is in 
 Brittany," cried the Prince, "thou art right! I thought to 
 pull lustily at the bell, but I will as lustily pull at my sword 
 in the sheath, and see if there be not virtue in that. How 
 came in the foe ? and who commands them ?"
 
 THE kixg! 25 
 
 The answer to tliis double query told him that the enemy 
 could not have entered had not his despatches been betrayed 
 to the invader ; and that the van of the army was under the 
 command of a prince, whose name was no sooner uttered 
 to the King than the latter turned red with fury, and ex- 
 claimed, " lie ! — then I shall ring the bell yet. I will have 
 his life, and the lady — " 
 
 He said no more, but went out, fought like a man, cleared 
 the land of the foe, hung the traitor with all his orders on 
 him, maimed the young leader of the hostile vanguard past 
 sympathy from Cupid, and returned to his capital in tri- 
 umph. He had so much to employ him after his return, so 
 much to accomplish for the restoration of the fortunes of 
 his people, so much to meditate upon for future accomplish- 
 ment, that when at night he lay down ujjon his couch, weari- 
 ness upon his brow, but a shade of honest joy upon his cheek, 
 he had fairly forgotten the silver bell in his turret, and the 
 ropes which depended from it. And so he grew grey and 
 infirm, never turning from his work till the Inevitable Angel 
 looked smilingly in his face, and began to beckon him away. 
 He was sitting upright in his uneasy chair, pale as death, 
 but still at his ministry, tiU his eyes grew dim, his head 
 sank on his breast, and there was, without, a sound of wail- 
 ing. " Wbat voices are those ?" asked he softly : " what is 
 there yet for me to do ?" 
 
 His Chancellor stooped over him as he now lay on a 
 couch, and whispered, " Our father is departing from among 
 us, and his children are at the threshold, in tears." 
 
 "Let them in! let them come in!" hoarsely cried the 
 King. " God ! do they really love me ?" 
 
 " If there were a life to be piu-chased here, O worthy 
 Sire, they would pvirchase thine with their blood." The 
 crowd streamed silently in, to look once more upon the good 
 old King, and to mourn at his departure. He stretched his 
 hands towards them, and asked, " Have I won your love, 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 MONAfiCHS EETIRED FEOM BUSINESS, 
 
 cliildren ? have I won your love?" One universal affirmative 
 reply, given from the heart, though given with soft expres- 
 sion, seemed to bestow on the dpng monai'ch new life. He 
 raised himself on the couch, looked like an inspired saiat, 
 and tried to speak, but faUed in the attempt. None the 
 less happy, he looked up to God, glanced to the turret where 
 hung the bell, extended his Imnd to the rope, gave one pull, 
 and died, with a smile on his lips, as he rang his own knell. 
 
 The above scene is described as passing in the King's 
 palace, — by which we are not to imagine a splendid man- 
 sion. The term palace did not always imply a magnificent 
 residence. It is derived from palor, to wander ; and origi- 
 nally the palace was the house or inn in whicli the early 
 Kings, who were constantly moving about, sojourned during 
 their endless peregrinations, and lived upon those among 
 whom they were sojourners. This royal fashion did not go 
 out till a late period : it was not extinct in Spain during 
 the last centiuy. Southey, in his ' Letters from Spain and 
 Portugal,' enables us to have some idea of how a King of 
 Spain travelled at the period in question, namely, with a 
 train of seven thousand attendants, mth whom he moved so 
 rapidly as to kill three of his guards in front of his carriage, 
 and to maim a fourth, — seizing on everything, paying for 
 nothing, preceded by fear, and followed by curses. 
 
 They who may object to accept the above derivation for 
 the word 2^cilac§, will probably receive with less question 
 that which traces it to the Palatimn, or residence of the 
 Cffisar on the Palatine Hill ; but even then we may go back 
 to palor, for the Palatine is said to have derived its name 
 from the fact that Evander, after his wandering, gathered 
 the scattered inhabitants of Italy around him on this spot, 
 the palace, or home of the wanderer. 
 
 In these homes, the masters of them have exercised many
 
 THE KlJfO! 27 
 
 fancies ; but subjects have often been as fanciful as their 
 rulers. Thus, Philostratus mentions an old, and perhaps 
 agreeable, fancy of a certain Indian people, with respect to 
 their King. Every night they treated him with music and 
 singing ; and as he passed along to his bed, they not only 
 wished him pleasant dreams, but admonished him to rise on 
 the morrow, full of just and upright intentions towards his 
 people. "Where there were such importunate, although har- 
 monious counsellors, the King was probably neither the first 
 nor the happiest of the nation. It would be a difiicult ques- 
 tion to decide where that " happiest individual " is to be 
 found. The decision however was once dogmatically ren- 
 dered by the monarch who has been good-humouredly called 
 the British Solomon. James I. has put it on record that 
 the happiest lot of all others was to possess such an estate 
 as set a man below the ofiice of a justice of the peace, and 
 above that of a petty constable. On what grounds James 
 made such a decision is not known. There is, at least, one 
 period when respective positions are not worth considera- 
 tion. That period was glanced at by an Oriental sovereign, 
 in the question — " When the soul is about to depart, of 
 what import is it whether its owner sits on a throne or lies 
 in the dust ?" Perhaps of all those who have stood in the 
 dust below the throne, none had a more singular fancy with 
 respect to the choice of a King than the Egyptians. They 
 did not particularly require him to be virtuous, but they 
 would not tolerate a candidate who had red hair. There 
 was some connection in their minds between red hair and 
 leprosy. Some persons may recollect having read of a 
 people who annually weighed their King. If the monarch 
 proved heavier than on the preceding year, there was a ge- 
 neral illumination ; btit if there was a falling-ofi" in weight, 
 there was a disposition to believe that remorse for some 
 crime was making him thin, and that it would be as weU to 
 get rid of him. This may reckon among the singular rea- 
 
 c 2
 
 28 MOIfABCHS EETIEED FEOM BrSIKESS. 
 
 sons for deposition. Xot less singular for its fancy is the 
 epitaph, on a Vice-King indeed, written for Pedro, Viceroy 
 of Naples. Its wit will excuse its seeming profanity, for 
 Pedro was a wretched tyrant, as the epitaph signified, which 
 said, " This is he who, for us and for our salvation, went 
 down to Hell!"* The Neapolitan Kings, as well as their 
 representatives, were generally cruel oppressors of their 
 people. They had not even the liberal fancy of that Inca 
 of Peru who, in a fit of sublime generosity, determined to 
 enlarge the privileges of his people ; and, accordingly, he 
 gave them permission to lore their ears ; but they were on 
 no account to bore such large holes as perforated the sacred 
 ears of the Incas. The royalty of Peru was distinguished 
 (singularly enough) by the length of its ears ; the ornaments 
 worn in which were very heavy. It is ciu'ious that there is 
 an Egyptian tradition which speaks of the King of the Cro- 
 codiles. This animal is also famous for the length of its 
 ears, — and the shortness or non-existence of a tail ; too vul- 
 gar an appendage for a royal crocodile. In proof of its 
 quality, it was said that this crocodile could do no harm ; 
 but this was rather unsatisfactory proof of his royalty. 
 
 However this may be, there have not been wantiug indi- 
 viduals who claimed an equality viith their Kings to which 
 the Peruvians dared not aspire, and who, like the Arragonese 
 generally, said to their monarchs, " We, who are as good as 
 you — ." Such a one was the Baron of Coucy, who, like 
 many other Barons, styled himself " Sire," to denote his 
 authority, and who thought himself as good as any King 
 who ever reigned : as may be seen in the old distich, 
 
 " Je ne suis ni Roi, ni Prince aussi ; 
 Je suis Ic Sii'c de Coucy." 
 
 In similar spirit the Spanish grandee, in comparing him- 
 self with Louis XIV., exclaimed, " I am equal with Bourbon 
 
 * There is an epigi-ammatic epitaph on Louis XV., wliich is pointed 
 by a similar phrase.
 
 THE KING ! 29 
 
 — and more." " Good Heavens !" cried the Frencli Am- 
 bassador, " you do not mean to put yourself above the head 
 of the House of Bourbon!" "You forget," said the Spa- 
 niard, with a scornful smile, — " you forget that I am a Cas- 
 tiUan!" 
 
 Proud as this Spaniard was, even a Spanish King him- 
 self has been outlawed by a plain English lawyer. Seldeu, 
 who cites the incident in his Table Talk, was the coimsel 
 who advised the step. His client was a merchant, who had 
 gained costs in a suit against the King ; but as he could not 
 obtain payment, the monarch, on the advice of Selden, was 
 outlawed for not appearing. The consequence justified the 
 proceeding, for the King had several suits against English 
 merchants ; and as the outlawry was an insurmountable ob- 
 stacle to the prosecution of such suits by him, the money 
 was paid by his Government and the judgment of outlawry 
 was set aside. 
 
 The subject of popular fancies with respect to Kings 
 would occupy too extensive a space to warrant being in- 
 dulged in. Nevertheless, it may be remarked that if the 
 people have had their peculiar fancies, it were but reasonable 
 that monarchs should have theirs also. Some of them how- 
 ever have almost abused their privilege in this respect. 
 Louis XI. was one of them. He had a conceit, says Burton, 
 " that everything did stink about him ; all the odoriferous 
 perfumes they could get would not ease him, but still he 
 smelt a filthy stink." It is clear, supposing that there is no 
 allegory intended here, that Louis would not have been able 
 to select a consort after the fashion adopted by the King of 
 Araca, when that fantastic monarch chose his wives. The 
 swarthy Eose of the Universe did not care for mental or moral 
 qualities in these ladies. He simply tried them by the 
 "odour of complection ;" and if the kiss came off" like the 
 south wind from a bank of violets, the particularly happy 
 damsel became the fractional part of a Queen-Consort.
 
 30 MONAECIIS EETIBED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 Among other sovereign fancies to be told, is that of 
 Cunegunda, who, when engaged in erecting the Cathedral of 
 Bamberg, raised the Devil, and compelled him to carry the 
 heaviest blocks of marble from the quarry to the site, for the 
 sacred edifice. To an ancient and probably apocryphal 
 King is ascribed a no less singular fancy. He did not wish 
 to summon Satan, but to send souls to him. To accomplish 
 this, the King invented the penalty of hanging, and con- 
 demned thereto such persons as he held in his hottest hate. 
 The royal fancy v/as, that by such a punishment the soul 
 escaped from the body in a very ignoble fashion, which gave 
 facilities for its seizure by Satan. Chilperic had a better 
 fancy when he resolved to introduce the </>, x, and 6 from tlie 
 Greek into the French alphabet. This was done, but there 
 have been few Kings in France who could pronounce the 
 last letter. For many generations it was a very generally 
 royal fancy that despotism was the most salubrious descrip- 
 tion of government for nations. The system still survives 
 in absolute monarchies and in some republics. It is even 
 more crueUy developed in the latter than in the former, 
 wherever the republic is in more haste to grow great than 
 to be respected. The most beneficent of liberators have 
 often been the most despotic in their characters. Even 
 Luther, when he was asked what he thought of tlie election 
 of Charles V. to the Empire, answered that he thought well 
 of it: "The Eavens," said he, "must have a Kite: the 
 world cannot do without stem governors, by whom they 
 maybe ruled." This was exactly the royal and ruling theorj^ 
 of Miss Seward's grandfather. Dr. Hunter, Master of the 
 Lichfield Grammar School, of whom it was said that " he 
 never taught a boy in his life : he whipped, and tJwi/ 
 learned." The despotic system is out of fashion with us 
 both in courts and schools.
 
 31 
 
 OF SOME SCRIPTURE KINGS AND EASTERN 
 MONARCHS. 
 
 " The Jews, a headstrong, moody, murmuring race. 
 As ever tried th' extent and stretch of grace ; 
 G-od's pamper'd people, whom, debauch'd with ease, 
 No King could govern, and no God could please." — Dryden. 
 
 They v>ho do not discreetly handle Scripture passages 
 would not be much embarrassed to prove that monarchy was 
 not favoui'ably contemplated by the Mosaic institution, — ' 
 which was itself divinely inspired. Jehovah was the sole 
 King recognized by that system, from which all worldly 
 regal authority was alien. The first great lawgiver founded 
 a society without a King, and was the chastiser of those 
 Kings who stood in the way between him and the fulfil- 
 ment of his great mission. 
 
 The Prophet nevertheless saw that the period would come 
 when the Israelites would require a King ; and the qualifica- 
 tions which are set down as those becoming a monarch 
 might well be the guide of all sovereigns who rule by di- 
 vine, or any other right. To describe these qualifications 
 summarily — it was demanded of a King that he should be 
 humble, modest, void of ostentation, free from extravagance, 
 observant of economy, not covetous, and so studious of the 
 law of God, so bent to keep in mind what the law en- 
 joined, and act in all things according to its injunction, — as 
 thereby to acknowledge that even the King was but the 
 Viceroy of Him who is King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
 
 32 MOXAECUS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 The sacerdotal republic of the Jews was uudeuiably most 
 hostile to Kings. How these fared at the hands of Moses, 
 it is not necessary to repeat. But if Moses smote them 
 heavily, what shall be said of Joshua ? How did that irre- 
 sistible conqueror sweep them from before his path, when 
 they opposed him on his destined way ! The despoiled 
 monarchs were cast under the feet of his captains, hung up 
 to the branches of trees, from which at sunset they were 
 cut down to be ignominiously buried, or they were destroyed 
 by the sword, they and their families, their households and 
 their cattle. 
 
 If a feeling of compassion rises in the human heart oji 
 reading the melancholy chronicle of early kings, as it is re- 
 corded in Scripture, it is perhaps because we unconsciously 
 take our impressions from false ideas, and mentally reason 
 from wrong premises. These Kings were, after all, but_ 
 savages impeding the march of civilization. They came in 
 contact with a great revolution, — if the use of a modern in- 
 stance may be permitted, — and they necessarily perished by 
 the collision. As an instance of this kingly character, let 
 us look at Adoni-Bezek. He had subdued seventy fellow- 
 kings ; and how did he treat those petty and unsceptred 
 monarchs ? Ha\ang captured them, he cut off their thumbs 
 and toes, and they had no food but such scraps as he and his 
 family chose to fling to them, while the mutilated wretches 
 lay beneath the table or about the feet of their ruthless 
 victor. But the day of retribution came, and Adoni-Bezek 
 in his turn became subdued, and fell before the might of 
 Judah and of Simeon. His captors, shocked at his cruelty, 
 dealt with him as he had dealt vdih his royal prisoners. 
 They amputated his thumbs and toes, made him grovel in 
 the dust for his food, and kept him at Jerusalem in this de- 
 plorable condition^ in which he recognized a well-earned re- 
 tribution, till he died. Such was the ftite of unsceptred 
 sovereigns in the barbarous times when they warred against
 
 SCEIPTUEE KINGS AND EASTERN :M0NAECHS, 33 
 
 each other in the East, or against those who carried with 
 them civilization and the law of God. 
 
 In course of time Israel ^^ ivoidd have a King," despite of 
 the consequences foreshadowed to them by the prophet. 
 The establishment of regality in Israel was by Divine con- 
 cession ; and royalty was at once strictly limited and ren- 
 dered sacred by religion. Priest and prophet hedged with 
 divinity that monarch, that Lord's Anointed, whom they 
 governed, led, or counselled. The transmission of the royal 
 authority was not regular, and the people often boldly with- 
 stood their King. But ou such topics it is not necessary to 
 dwell ; let us rather briefly glance at the unsceptred mon- 
 archs who had once ruled over the chosen people of God. 
 Among the offences of that people was putting the carcases 
 of theii' kings in high places, whereby they had defiled the 
 place of the Lord's throne. As it is said in Ezekiel xliii., 
 — " Now then let them put away . . . the carcases of their 
 kings far from me, and I will dwell in the midst of them for 
 ever." 
 
 The record of the rulers of Israel exhibits to us but one 
 unsceptred King out of the some dozen and a half who held 
 sway in that much-vexed country during less than three 
 centuries. There was many a monarch of the line who fell 
 by violence, but who did not survive his fall. Of the last, 
 Hoshea, we only know that he was carried into captivity by 
 his great conqueror, and that, on the banks of a foreign 
 river, and beneath the shade of a strange prison-house, he 
 bore the burden of life until he died. "What was his way 
 of life, — whether he becomingly entertained his destiny, 
 and how he met his end, — of these matters we remain in 
 ignorance. We only know that, sinful man of a sinful race, 
 in his own person he suffered for his predecessors' crimes as 
 well as for his o^vn errors. He had the misery of knowing 
 that there was no remedy for the ruin which had swept over 
 him, and that, as far as this world was concerned, his con- 
 
 c 3
 
 34 MONAECIIS EETIllED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 (lition was unrelieved by the smallest gleam of hope. " And 
 so," in the simple words of Scripture, " and so he died!" 
 It is singular, considering the spirit of the JeAvish people, 
 that of the twelve Kings of Israel, one only, and he an evil 
 King (Jeroboam II.), reigned more than forty years. 
 
 The roll of Judah bears upon it the names of four Kings 
 out of about a score of monarchs, who were deposed from 
 their sovereign greatness, and who were less happy than 
 those who, with the loss of such greatness, also yielded up 
 their lives. These four sceptreless monarchs of the house 
 of Judah were Uzziah, Jehoahaz, Jehoiachin, and Zedekiah. 
 The fate of the first is a warning to all potentates who pre- 
 sume to take upon themselves to assert supremacy over the 
 priesthood. So, at least, do commentators remark. It is to 
 be observed however that Uzziah was stricken with leprosy, 
 not for presuming to subject the priesthood to his own au- 
 thority, but for dariug to exercise the office of priest, with 
 no other ordination than his own. He entered tlie temple, 
 stood at the altar, and was about to make profane offering 
 to the Lord, when the high-priest Azariah and his valiant 
 band of fourscore orthodox curates, so to speak, dared to 
 withstand, remonstrate with, and finally repulse him. The at- 
 tendant earthquake, and its accompanying thvuider and dark- 
 ness, might have convinced the King of the impiety of his 
 attempt ; but he persisted in it, until a portion of the tem- 
 ple wall was rent. Through the aperture a sudden outburst 
 of the sun darted its rays, and a beam thereof, falling on 
 the forehead of the audacious King, revealed to the priests 
 the mark of leprosy which had, in that minute, broken out 
 upon the monarch's brow. They saw in it the brand of an 
 outcast, and denounced the unclean prince as stripped of 
 his royalty. Uzziah yielded reluctant assent to this unwel- 
 come conclusion, and withdrew fi'om the temple, a sceptre- 
 less King. He had carried the sceptre during tlie long, and 
 it Avas an eventful, period of five-and-forty years ; and now
 
 SCEIPTTTRE KINGS AND EASTERN MONARCUS 35 
 
 " the Lord smote the King, so that he was a leper unto the 
 day of his death, and dwelt in a several house." He lived 
 thus divided from the living during the five or six succeed- 
 ing years, — years of a slow but sure process of dying ; and 
 at the end of that time he lay dead, and apart from the 
 dead ; not among the tenants of the tombs of his prede- 
 cessors, but in unconsecrated ground, where his subjects 
 dug the grave of the leper-king. 
 
 It was war that struck the sceptre from the hands of the 
 three other deposed monarchs of Judah. Of Jehoahaz we 
 only know that his vaunting conqueror carried him ofiF 
 captive, first to Syria, and thence to Egypt, where, after a 
 life of unrecorded incidents, he died ; of the dethroned Je- 
 hoiachin we know something, but not much, more. Nebu- 
 chadnezzar kept the ex-monarch of Judah in stringent 
 captivity for more than a quarter of a century, in Babylon. 
 When the next Babylonian King, Evil-Merodach, or ]\Iero- 
 dach the Mindless, ascended the the throne, he exhibited, in 
 this instance at least, a proof that he had a mind which could 
 be moved by generous impulses : he brought the old Hebrew 
 sovereign irom his dungeon, decked him in suitable attire, 
 and not only furnished him with a home and a well-provided 
 table, but also conferred upon him a respectable income, 
 which was paid to him daily. If Jehoiachiu left debts at 
 his decease (as retired as well as actual monarchs have been 
 so accustomed to do), he was unworthy of the liberality of 
 Evil-Merodach, who went so far as not only to give freedom 
 to his predecessor's foeman,but also to grant him precedence 
 of all other crownless captives at large, who attended the 
 levees of the Great King in Babylon. 
 
 Zedekiah, the last of the royal masters of Judah, was less 
 fortunate. He too was conveyed to Babylon, after the ruin 
 of his cause, the downfall of his house, and the slaughter of 
 his kinsmen, friends, and servants. The hot irons of the 
 executioner blasted for ever the eyeballs of the last of the
 
 36 MOKAECnS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Judah Kings, and of melancholy monotony must have been 
 the captiYity of him of the sightless orbs. Living, he was 
 little cared for ; but dead, he was treated as though his cap- 
 tors held that a Divinity did hedge the character of even an 
 unsceptred sovereign. He had been kept in durance, like 
 the veriest felon ; but his body was buried with a magnifi- 
 cence of rite as though he had died in the purple, and was 
 being entombed at the charge of a grateful heir-apparent. 
 
 A little compassion vouchsafed to him living, would have 
 consoled him in his sorrow ; but all the honours paid to him 
 dead, were but fruitless homage to an unconscious King. 
 So true are the quaint words of old Fuller, in his ' Pisgah :' 
 — " A drought in the spring is not to be repaired by a de- 
 luge in the autumn ;" and " Two drops seasonably showered 
 would preserve the green blade from ^\-ithering, when much 
 rain cannot revive the roots once withered." 
 
 A consideration of the Jewish regal history might have 
 convinced the Jews that the Psalmist spoke truly, when he 
 said, "the Lord remaineth King for ever," aflirmed that 
 "no" earthly " King can be saved by the multitude of a 
 liost," and reminded the sons of Abraham that He it was 
 who smote great Kings, slew mighty Kings, and gave away 
 their land for an heritage unto Israel his servant. " I will 
 magnify thee, O God, my King," is the expressive acknow- 
 ledgment of one who wore an earthly crown ; and it was 
 his injunction which bade the children of Sion to rejoice in 
 their King. 
 
 One characteristic of the Asiatic sovereignties has been 
 their want of permanency. With an appearance of solidity, 
 there has been a coiitinual crumbling away. There are ad- 
 mirers of Asiatic despotisms who assert the contrary, and 
 who point to China in support of their assertion. But, with 
 regard to the various sovereign ftimilies which have reigned
 
 SCRIPTURE KINGS AND EASTERN MONAECIIS. 37 
 
 in China, from Tai-Long to Lint-Choo, it may be observed 
 that the last and reigning dynasty is not Chinese, and also, 
 that of the twenty-two dynasties which have been permitted 
 to govern China, each one, without exception, since the first, 
 has succeeded by rebellion, assassination, deposition, or the 
 suicide of the last King of the preceding dynasty. It was 
 the want of affection and duty on the part of his people, 
 which drove the xery last Emperor of the Chinese race, A^Tiay- 
 Tsang, to hang himself, in despair, and leave his throne to 
 the Mongol line of traitors, by whom it is still usurped. 
 
 Nowhere can we find that the effect of Asiatic govern- 
 ment was to have permanence. The Caliphate, the most 
 religious of them all, and by far the most glorious and 
 enlightened, the most powerful and widely extended, even 
 that gorgeous succession of Monarch-Priests endured in its 
 splendid unity but from Abu-Bekir, in 632, to Al Mostas- 
 sem BiDah, in 1258. In the latter year, the house of Al 
 Abbas ceased to reign in Bagdad, that city having then 
 fallen before the forces of the bold Holagou Khan, who, 
 with his Tartar mace, shivered the Caliphate into glittering 
 fragments ; one of these fragments the sons of Sarah reve- 
 rently enshrined on the banks of the Nile, where its dimi- 
 nished lustre was finally trodden out by the Osmanli con- 
 queror, Selim. 
 
 Again, if we cast a glance at Persia, we are still at a loss 
 to find permanency as the rule either of individuals or of 
 d^'nasties. In the Pashdadian race we see recorded, it is 
 true, that a certain Feridoou reigned five hundred years ; 
 that Menueheher, the Mandaces of the Greeks, held the 
 sovereign power during a century and a quarter ; and that, 
 in short, the eleven Kings of this dynasty enjoyed each an 
 enviable rule of upwards of two centuries. But this is a 
 fabulous permanency, in which we have as little faith as iu the 
 assertion that Kaiomurs fought with Demons; that Jemsheed 
 invented the "delightful poison," the zoJrn a Koush, which
 
 38 ' MOKAncns eetieed from srsiNESs. 
 
 a less poetical posterity has condescended to drink under the 
 ordinary appellation of wine ; or that serpents grew on the 
 shoulders of Zohauk, or that that monarch himself fed on 
 human brains. Let us look now to the dynasties established 
 since the period when the great Alexander was stricken dead 
 by the demon of intemperance at Babylon. The resialt of 
 this view presents to us the fact that if some one of these 
 djTiasties endured for a rather lengthened period, the indi- 
 vidual sovereigns, even then, succeeded and fell by violence. 
 This is no proof of permanency on the one hand, nor of 
 obedience on the other. And in the general view we dis- 
 cover that, since the period of the mad ]Macedonian, nine 
 established dynasties have held sway over Persia. Had these 
 legally and naturally succeeded each other, Persia might 
 have been cited as a country where were to be found per- 
 manency of power and examples, of obedience. The truth, 
 however, is exactly in the opposite direction. Tlie descen- 
 dants of Seleucus were exterminated by the rebellion of the 
 Arsacidse. The latter fell in their turn before the unjust 
 invasion of the Tartars under Timour. The voluptuous Suf- 
 favean hoiTse, which succeeded, was destroyed by the rebel 
 pewterer of Seistan ; and the SufFarree dynasty, of which he 
 was the founder, lasted but for a brief and bloody period. 
 The nation then fell a prey to the irresistible might of 
 him of Grhizni, from whose successors it passed, amid vio- 
 lence and evil, to the robber Seljuks. Anarchy reigned un- 
 restrained over the length and breadth of the land, till the 
 Afglaans swept across it v^*ith the swiftness and destroying 
 power of the hurricane. Both the monarchs of the Afghan 
 race were murdered. Nadir Shah, who succeeded to the va- 
 cant throne, was himself slain ; and the four monarchs who 
 came after him Avere victims of a similiar catastrophe. The 
 Zend dynasty next attempted to establish a claim for perma- 
 nence of power, and the love of the people ; but the boasted 
 "principles of Asiatic governmeiit" again failed. In thirty-
 
 SCHIPTrRE KINGS AND EASTERN MONARCHS. 39 
 
 seven years, eight monarchs seized, held, and fell from the 
 unsteady throne. Upon the assassination of their last King, 
 Lootf Ali Khan, the present Kurger dynasty rose to sove- 
 reignty. Of the four monarchs belonging to it, the first, 
 Aga Mohammed, the ablest and most execrable tyrant that 
 ever lived, was murdered by his own servants. The second 
 and third were mere phantoms of power. The fourth, jN'asr 
 ul Din, surrounded, like the tomb of the Three Kings at 
 Cologne, by tinsel, glass drops, and paste jewellery, gains as 
 little reverence from those who stand before him, is the ser- 
 vant of three masters, hating each and fearing all ; menaced 
 by Russia, cajoled by France, and seldom ti-eated with su- 
 perfluous courtesy by England. 
 
 A great admirer of Asiatic rule, Mr. Bosanquet, in his 
 collected Essays, styled Frincipia, asserts that the Asiatic 
 people are not addicted to rebellion. How is this made out, 
 if we test it by India ? If we may not so emphatically cite 
 the Ghiznian dynasty in Hindostan against the assertion, 
 the history of the Ghoiu-ian, of the Patau, and of the Mogul 
 dynasty would amply suit the purpose. Each King of the 
 short-lived Grhourian race was massacred. Eighteen of the 
 thirty-three Patau rulers of India were slain or deposed : 
 among them was the celebrated female sovereign, the beau- 
 tiful Mallakeh Doran, The same fate has fallen on more 
 than one-half of the twenty-two Mogul monarchs who have 
 occupied the uneasy seat of royalty since the accession of 
 the illustrious tiger, Mohammed Baber. The last of the 
 Mogul race was dethroned this very year ; and the worthless 
 descendant of a line of warriors, at once brutified and ener- 
 vated by his debauched life, is turning his once resplendent 
 face towards Leadenhall Street, and, bowing his uncrowned 
 head to Sahib Koompauy, humbly petitions for redress, or 
 perseveringly remonstrates against tlic alleged wrongs of 
 which he declares himself the victim. 
 
 Amoug the most ancient of the Asiatic tribes, the so-
 
 40 MONAECHS EETIRED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 called kings or chiefs were elected according to a fashion 
 which ^er/m^s disarmed intrigue, and which was as likely to 
 secure an efficient ruler as any other mode which could then 
 have been adopted. "When a King became defunct, the tribes 
 who had acknowledged his sway sent an arrow, marked with 
 the name and seal of the tribe, to an appointed place. The 
 aiTows thus collected were cast before a very young child, 
 and from the tribe whose arrow the child should pick, the 
 King Avas to be chosen. De Joinville describes such an elec- 
 tion during the Crusades ; and he adds, that when the child 
 had selected an arrow, fifty-two of the most valiant men of 
 the tribe by whom it had been sent, despatched each an 
 arrow, v.iih. a seal or name attached to it, and as the child 
 again selected, so followed the appointment of the King. 
 
 To this day, when a Grand Lama dies, a child of five or 
 six years old has the power of becoming his successor, by 
 proving that the soul of the defunct Lama has transmigrated 
 into his body. The child may be hundreds of miles away 
 from the spot where the old Lama died; but on his well- 
 prompted declaration that he is the old potentate under a 
 new shape, he receives a universal homage. The test to 
 which he is subjected, is not a difficult one. The commonly 
 used utensils of his predecessor (or of his old self) are 
 placed before him ; and when he recognizes each as his own, 
 and explains the service to which he put it, the faithftd are 
 in ecstasies at finding the old man in the new child. 
 
 The dependence of the Tartar Kings upon their supreme 
 sovereign, the Emperor of China, seems to be of a somewhat 
 loose character. Thus, we are told of one who was recently 
 accused of rebelling against the Chinese monarch, and who 
 was condemned, unheard, to be " shortened at both ends ;" 
 that is, to have his head and feet cut ofi". " The King," writes 
 M. Hue, to whom we are indebted for the story, " made 
 enormous presents to the officials who were sent to super- 
 intend the execution of the imperial edict ; and they con-
 
 SCEIPTUEE KINGS AND EASTERN MONAECHS. 41 
 
 tented themselves with cutting off a braid of his hair and 
 the soles of his boots. They reported at Peking that the 
 order had been executed, and no more was said about the 
 matter." This King of Barains, as he is called, could not, 
 however, save his seat as well as his head. He was com- 
 pelled to retire from his vocation of King, and, that he might 
 the better pass for dead, he withdrew into seclusion, and 
 left the cro"\vn to his son. 
 
 In a preceding page mention has been made of various 
 popular fancies in connection with the choice of Kings. 
 Another may be mentioned here, referring to the Buchanans. 
 In the seventeenth century, that people offered to a gigantic 
 Scottish officer. Colonel Thomas Game, in the Russian ser- 
 vice, the throne of Bucharia. The choice was founded on 
 the fact that the Colonel was taller and bigger " than any 
 within six kingdoms about him;" and it was the political 
 system of the slender Buchanans to " shun equality as near 
 as they could with him of whom they should make choice to 
 be their sovereign." That a sovereign should be smaU 
 enough to stand on a level, face to face, with a subject, they 
 considered derogatory to kingship. That his shadow should 
 not be large enough to cover the person of a petitioner, they 
 deemed a matter to be deplored. The system may have 
 sprung from a principle of selfishness, for we hear of Eastern 
 Kings who are weighed every year, and who give their weight 
 in sugar-plums to the people. The latter must have had 
 considerable interest, then, in keeping their monarch fat. 
 However this may be, the old Scottish Colonel declined the 
 honour offered to him by the Bucharians. It could not be 
 enjoyed without his subsequently undergoing a Jewish cere- 
 monial rite which the Colonel did not admire, and he accord- 
 ingly remained a private individual, distinguished as the 
 man who had refused to be a monarch. 
 
 The Eastern Courts of which mention has here been made, 
 present an abundant field of illustrative incidents. Of these,
 
 42 MONAECIIS EETIRED FEOM BrSINESS. 
 
 one or two may be cited, by way of conclusiou to tbis dis- 
 cursive chapter. Aud first, it may be observed that there 
 was a prospect of as much peril as profit in ofi*eriug advice 
 to a Persian King, in a difficult matter. He who did so was 
 made to stand on a golden plate. If his advice was found 
 to be good and practicable, he took away with him the plate 
 for his pains. Nevertheless, if the counsel, wholesome as 
 it might be, proved to be contrary to the King's opinion, he 
 who gave it took away with him not only the plate, but a 
 sound scourging into the bargain. 
 
 The Persian King must have been a dangerous person to 
 advise, for he often had no opinion of his own, except when 
 a sentiment was expressed by a counsellor, and then the 
 monarch adopted a contrary opinion, out of mere spirit of 
 wanton opposition. His dignity was accounted to be so 
 great, that in his leisure hours reading was not to be thought 
 of: he sat on his cushions, and whittled, like a Yankee. 
 It is an indisputable fact that the Persian Kings were the ori- 
 ginal whittlers; and our Republican cousins, in adopting the 
 fashion, follow an example set by the most despotic monarch 
 who ever existed. That he might not find his leisure hours 
 tedious, he carried in his hand, says ^^lian, " branches of 
 birch, and therewithal a knife, wherewith he did cut off the 
 small sprigs from the stalk, and hacked and hewed the rest 
 in little slices." His Majesty, not caring to read, and be- 
 ing unable to think, took up a stick and whittled. He might 
 have done worse. 
 
 Tryzan, an Eastern tyrant, for instance, did much worse. 
 He forbade the use of speech altogether, even between per- 
 sons the most nearly connected. The people obeyed ; but 
 notwithstanding, they foiled the despotic King, for they 
 invented the finger alphabet, and conversed without speak- 
 ing ! The instrumental music parties in the kingdom alone 
 benefited by this decree. The conversazioni must have been 
 rather hcavv.
 
 43 
 
 OF SOME SOVEREIGNS OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 " An unjust King pulls himself down with his own teeth." 
 
 Aeab Pboveeb. 
 
 In the histories of Kings of the ancient period, who have 
 been deposed or who have voluntarily abdicated, although 
 there are not wanting examples of wrong done to sovereigns, 
 it will be more frequently found that the people have been 
 driven to exercise a right which they appear to have pos- 
 sessed from the earliest times. Some, like Strato, King of 
 Sidon, — whom Alexander dethroned, and put a gardener of 
 royal descent in his place,— have been hardly used by their 
 conquerors. The sole offence of Strato was that he coura- 
 geously refused to surrender. On the other hand, the Ly- 
 dians very properly hung their King Ach^eus, because of his 
 extortion : in other words, he taxed them without their 
 consent, — a proceeding perilous to most kings, and fatal to 
 many. 
 
 Injustice of any sort seems to have been considered as 
 justifying war against the guilty King. They who remember 
 how Cotys served Adamas, will not doubt that the yovith 
 justly led a rebellion against the King of Thrace. So the 
 Epirotes, almost beggared by the wars that their King ^^a- 
 cidas carried on against Macedonia, and indignant that he 
 would not heed their remonstrances, at length expelled him 
 from the kingdom. But the royal Spartan Agis shows us 
 how an indiscreet reformer, backed by friends unworthy of 
 the name, may suffer loss of throne and life by excess of
 
 44 iroNARcns betieed ehom business. 
 
 zeal ; nevertheless it was a hard case — to be deposed and 
 strangled for nothing worse than attempting to restore the 
 laws of Lycurgus. His case will be found admirably dis- 
 cussed in Alfieri's preface to his ' Agide,' dedicated to the 
 Ghost of Charles I. 
 
 Agis deserved success ; other Kings have been miable to 
 bear it. Thus, the lUjrian King Egron, or Agron, lost 
 crown and life by drinking to excess, in joy for his A'ictory 
 over the ^^tolians. It was a more ignoble death than that 
 of Agamemnon, whose shirt-sleeves had been scaaii up by 
 Clytemnestra, and who was butchered by that exemplary 
 wife and her confederate, while the King was vainly striving 
 to find an outlet from the sleeves of the shirt, or tunic. 
 
 It is justice to the really great Antiochus to state that he 
 gave his subjects permission to disobey and depose him, 
 if ever he issued commands contrary to the laws of the 
 country. Here was solemn sanction of the popiilar right of 
 insurrection, in a certain contingency. 
 
 Irreverence to the Gods, lack of hospitality, ill-treatment , 
 of the sacred persons of ambassadors, — all these offences 
 have lost various monarchs their thrones, and even their 
 lives. Tantalus was so punished, with worse and well-known 
 after-penalties, for stealing or losing Jupiter's dog, which 
 guarded the Temple of the Olympian, in Crete. Thiodamas, 
 King of Mysia, suffered the losses above-named for refusing 
 hospitality to Hercules and his son. 
 
 We have another ground for deposition offered by Pom- 
 pey. He dethroned Antiochus Asiaticus, for the sole rea- 
 son that when a usurper had got possession of his crown, 
 Antiochus had hid himself, and trusted to others to aid him, 
 without helping them or himself 
 
 Again we hear of Lycaon, King of Arcadia, being deposed 
 by Jupiter, and turned into a wolf for his impiety, — a myth 
 which is supposed to mean that the Cliurch may deal very 
 decidedly with Kings, if these will not hear the Church. But
 
 SOME SOYEEEIG>*S OF THE OLDEK TIME. 45 
 
 this myth may be a little misunderstood. A similar conclu- 
 sion however is drawn from the case of the Arcadian Aris- 
 tocrates, who was deposed and put to death by his subjects, 
 for offering violence to the Priestess of Diana. In this case 
 it is to be observed that the people took the matter into 
 their hands, and evidenced their religious feeling by de- 
 posing and slaying their irreligious King. And it was not 
 merely the person of the Priestess, but the place itself was 
 sacred. Tmolus, King of Lydia, it will be remembered, lost 
 crown and life for his insult to Arriphe, at the foot of 
 Diana's altar. He was killed by a bull, as Kings have been 
 even in Christian times. 
 
 Great as the loss of a crown and kingdom may be, it would 
 be difficult to find many sovereigns on whom the loss in- 
 flicted a broken heart. Ariarathes, the ninth King of Cap- 
 padocia, was however one who so suffered. On the other 
 hand, after the Parthians deposed Tiridates, that monarch 
 may be said to have been rather sulky than indignant or af- 
 flicted ; and he was as troublesome to Augustus as James II. 
 to Louis XIV. 
 
 It was the lucky destiny of some, on being deposed from 
 one crown, to gain another. Thus Vonones was not ill off 
 when he lost Parthia, only to gain Armenia ; but Ptolemy 
 Lathyrus, or Ptolemy of the Pimple, made a less favourable 
 exchange, on being ejected from Egj-pt, by ascending the 
 throne of Cyprus ; it was not much better than Elba for 
 Imperial Prance. Cyprus however became annexed for a 
 time to Egypt ; and the gross political error of the twelfth 
 Ptolemy, Auletes, or the Flute-player, in ceding the island 
 to Eome, caused him to be dispossessed of his Egyptian 
 throne. 
 
 The popular voice in Egj^pt was a powerful voice, whether 
 expressed satirically or seriously. Historians called the 
 third Seleucus of Babylon Ceraunius, or the Thunderer, out 
 of ridicule for the royal meekness. It was the popular
 
 4G MONA-llCnS BETIBED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 voice in Egypt Avliich gave to the second Ptolemy the sur- 
 name of Plnladelphus, or lover of his brothers, two of whom 
 he murdered. By similar antiphrasis, the fourth Ptolemy, 
 who killed his father, was called Pliilopatoi\ and the sixth, 
 who hated his mother, was distinguished by the title of 
 PJiilometor. The adjunct oi Epiphanes, ov illustrious, was 
 given to the fifth Ptolemy, as much for his extravagant 
 vices as his extraordinary ability. The most remarkable of 
 the Kings who bore this name was that "tun of man," the 
 obese Ptolemy Pliyscon. It is ordinarily said that fat men 
 are good-natured : the huge Physcon is an exception to the 
 rule. His predecessor, Philadelplius, had been also named 
 Euergetes, or the " Beneficent," by a people who knew how 
 to distinguish between a man who murdered his brothers 
 (as our Edward murdered Clarence, and buried him in a 
 wine-cask) and a monarch who had respect for popular 
 rights. Physcon also required his people to drop the title 
 which alluded to his fatness, and to speak of him with the 
 addition of Euergetes ; the Alexandrians however would not 
 heed their Sovereign, although he had the power to slay 
 half of them. They continued to name him KaJcergetes, or 
 the Evil-doer, and with some reason. Physcon married the 
 wife of his brother Philometor, and on their wedding-day he 
 killed the infant son of Philometor in its mother's arms ; he 
 subsequently repudiated the wife, married her daughter, by 
 his brother, and murdered his own two sons by these two 
 Queens. He sent the limbs of one child to its mother as a 
 present, on a day of festival. His atrocities caused the 
 people to burn him out of his palace ; but Physcon recovered 
 his throne, after a period of exile, and calmly died in his 
 bed. This inhuman monster was not only fond of litera- 
 ture, and had an extensive knowledge of languages, but he 
 wrote a comment on Homer, and was the author of a gene- 
 ral history, in twenty-four books, celebrated for its elegance. 
 This seems inconsistent with what is otherwise reported of
 
 SOME SOTEBEIGNS OF THE OLDEN TIME. 47 
 
 him j and, as Atlienseus tells us that learning was greatly 
 promoted in Greece by the Alexandrine scholars driven 
 into exile by Physcon, we may entertain well-founded doubts 
 touching the report of his refined literary predilections. 
 
 The subjects of Physcon could not tolerate their obese 
 monster ; on the other hand, the Thracians could not tole- 
 rate their good King Lycurgus. This sovereign is said to 
 liave abolished the worship of Bacchus. In modern phrase, 
 he established a " Maine liquor law," and drove all his sub- 
 jects into sobriety and sedition. The oracle informed them 
 that no Avine would be tasted in Thrace, as long as Lycurgus 
 was on the throne. The priest or priestess of the oracle 
 was probably not averse from a bowl of the vin du pays, 
 and thus gave a hint which was quickly followed. Lycurgus 
 was deposed, and, to make the growth of the vine doubly 
 sure, he was, soon afterwards, slain ; a terrible example to 
 legislators who fancy themselves wiser than Paul, and who 
 see their patron saint in the Thracian Lycurgus ! 
 
 The instances in which men assumed the right of depos- 
 ing their Monarchs are very numerous ; there is one instance 
 of women successfully exercising a similar privilege. It 
 will be remembered that the ladies of Lemnos once resolved 
 to kill all the men in the island. Their provocation was 
 rather strong, but the ladies may be said to have " provoked 
 the provocation." However this may be, Thoas, the King, 
 hastily abdicated in favour of his daughter Hypsipyle, who, 
 in return, protected him in the general massacre. Thoas is 
 supposed to have passed his remaining days in obscurity, in 
 Chios. His obscurity must have been of the deepest ; and 
 we know less of the occupations of liis private life than we 
 do of those of Attains, the third King of Pergamus, who 
 gave up his throne, that he might keep his little garden in 
 order with his own hands, make experiments on metals, and 
 study philosophy. 
 
 This was a preferable course to that pursued by the great
 
 48 MONAECHS BETIEED FROM BUSI:N"ESS. 
 
 Sesostris, who, after a career of glory, characterized by tlie 
 captive kings who drew his car, became impatient when he 
 grew old, infirm, and blind, and only laid down the sceptre 
 to commit suicide. 
 
 They who examine the respective rolls of Kings who 
 ruled in Eome and in Athens, \^ill iind that kingship was 
 suppi'essed in the two localities for exactly opposite reasons. 
 In Eome royalty perished in the person of the seventh King, 
 because of his vices, a crime of his son leading to the de- 
 struction of the father. In Athens, royalty was suppressed 
 on the death of the seventeenth King, because of his virtue. 
 
 Of the seven Kings of Eome, only two, Nimia and Ancus 
 Marcius, died natural deaths. Eomulus, Tullus Hostilius, 
 Tarquinius Priscus, and Servius Tullius were severally 
 " disposed of." The crime of the son of the last Tarquin 
 was the excuse for banishing the proud and able but de- 
 tested King, rather than the real ground for deposing and 
 driving the latter and his family into exile. His tj-ranny 
 raised against him an aristocratic rebellion, into which the 
 people plunged, because of the popular hatred for his op- 
 pressive character and his numerous crimes. Royalty in 
 Eome had lasted about two centuries and a half; "after 
 that," says Livy, "in an assembly of the Centuries, held by 
 the Prefect of the city, were elected, in conformity with a 
 plan found in the commentaries of Servius Tullius (a slave 
 who had become a King), two magistrates, called Consuls." 
 
 Tarquin the Proud, when he turned away from the gates 
 of Eome, then closed against him, and the multitude had de- 
 creed his banishment, had reigned a quarter of a century. 
 The next fourteen years were spent in banishment, and in 
 vain attempts to recover his throne. He had left, in the days 
 of his power, the rich to oppress the poor ; he had changed 
 the laws, of his own free wUl, disregarded both Senate and 
 people, and carried his cruelty to that extent that " in the 
 days of Tarquin, the tyrant, it was happier to die than live."
 
 SOME SOVEEETGKS OF THE OLDEN TIME. 49 
 
 But '■'■ the people, at a critical moment," says an ancient 
 writer, ^^ remembered that they icere legislators, and the reigu 
 of Tarquinius came to an end." 
 
 When Livy reaches the record for the year of the city 
 249 (B.C. 493), he remarks, — "This year was rendered re- 
 markable by the news of the death of Tarquiu : he died at 
 Cumge, whither, on the reduction of the power of the Latins, 
 he had retired for refuge to the tyrant Aristodemus. By 
 this news both the Patricians and the Commons were highly 
 elated ; but the former suffered their exultation on the oc- 
 casion to carry them to unwarrantable lengths ; and the 
 latter, who until that time had been treated with the 
 greatest deference, began to feel themselves exposed to in- 
 sults from the nobility." The two parties united had re- 
 stored liberty : the stronger of the two denied the enjoy- 
 ment of freedom to their confederates of yesterday. We 
 m.ust not conclude that the nobility alone act thus selfishly ; 
 the most democratic patriot of the French Convention de- 
 clared from his seat, and in the hearing of the people, that 
 when a party had achieved liberty, it was often found neces- 
 sary to suppress freedom, in order that it might be preserved. 
 
 From the strange logic of the Conventionist let us re- 
 turn to the era of the Kings of Athens. We shall there 
 find that from ^geus to Codrus there were seventeen 
 Kings. The second of the line was that wonderful The- 
 seus, who is the hero of an historical romance by Plutarch. 
 Had Theseus been content to tarry at home, instead of 
 wandering abroad in disreputable company, coveting what 
 Christians are expressly forbidden from having a longing 
 for, he would not have been a sccptreless monarch. In his 
 absence, the proto-demagogue, Menestheus, contrived to 
 seize the throne, and the son of ^geus saw himself a re- 
 jected sovereign. He found refuge at the Court of Lyco- 
 medes, King of Scyros. The host and his guest were for 
 some time fast friends. At banquet, review, or sacrifice, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 MONAECHS EETIBED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Theseus was ever at the elbow of Lycomedes, till Mene- 
 stheus gi-ew jealous of such hospitality, and remonstrated 
 against the kindness extended to the deposed monarch. In 
 old days such remonstrance was attended to after a different 
 fashion from that which would follow such remonstrance 
 now. The insular King invited Theseus to ride out with 
 him to view some beautiful prospect from a neighbouring 
 height. They trotted up the eminence in friendly conver- 
 sation, and the Athenian was unconscious the while of his 
 impending fate. When they had reached the summit, Ly- 
 comedes directed his fi'iend's attention to a fair spot in the 
 far distance, and, taking advantage of his averted face, sud- 
 denly thrust him over the precipice. He was slain ; but 
 Lycomedes, as clever as a Russian Chancellor in making 
 crime look blameless, addressed a diplomatic letter to vai*i- 
 ous courts and cabinets, in which he proved that the death 
 was accidental, and the author of it the purest of monarchs 
 and of men. 
 
 Yirgil tells us that Theseus lost his throne throvigh de- 
 scending to hell and attempting to carry off the bride of 
 Pluto. The poet adds, that in the Lower Assembly he took 
 a permanent seat, as representative of fallen royalty. The 
 naked monarch adhered to the stone, literally "like wax." 
 Hercules, like a too zealous friend, rescued him, it is said, 
 from his wearying position, but it was at the expense of the 
 ex-sovereign's skin. The unhappy Theseus left the whole 
 of the covering of the ossa innominata behind him. 
 
 The seventh King of Athens, Thymoetes, lost his kingdom 
 because he was cowardly enough to refuse a cliallenge from 
 his royal cousin of Bocotia. The latter potentate, aU Boeo- 
 tian as he was, had the good sense, when he and Thymoetes 
 had a difference upon the subjects of annexation and boun- 
 daries, to propose that they should "fight it out" them- 
 selves, and not sacrifice the lives of thousands of men in a 
 quarrel in which they had no personal intex'cst. The Athe-
 
 SOME SOTEREIGNS OF THE OLDEN TIME. 51 
 
 uian refused the proposal, was ejected from his throne iu 
 consequence, and died, a despised private gentleman, in 
 another land. He was succeeded by Melanthus, who was 
 himself a runaway King, or the son of one, from Pylos. The 
 latter stepped into the sandals of Thymoetes as cleverly as 
 Louis !Xapoleon seated himself on that three-legged stool of 
 the Eepublic, "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity;" — stool 
 which he has so neatly covered with imperial green velvet, 
 "powdered " with the busy bees of Charlemagne. 
 
 The Athenians abolished monarchy after the voluntary 
 death of Codrus, who had heard that the Oracle had pro- 
 mised victory to the side which should lose a King in the 
 battle. Codrus thereu.pon rushed disguised into the fray, 
 and found a glorious death. So satisfied were the wise men 
 of Athens they should never find another such a King, that 
 they decreed the abolition of royalty. This is the only in- 
 stance of monarchy falling by power, and in consequence of 
 its own virtue. The result may be read in the record which 
 teUs of the three centuries of Archons for life, of the period 
 when those high magistrates ruled but for ten years, and of 
 that when they were chosen yearly, like a common Lord 
 Mayor, and, unlike him, were bound never to be the worse 
 for wine, either before dinner or after. The result closes 
 logically with the vesting of the legislative power in three 
 assemblies, the Areopagus, the Council, and that wonder- 
 fully consistent body — the Assembly of the People. 
 
 The era of Codrus, 1070 years before Christ, is divided 
 from that of Dionysius the Younger, 357 years before the 
 Christian era, by a wide space. During the seven inter- 
 vening centviries, many a sovereign, and several of those 
 noticed in preceding pages, underwent deposition, followed 
 by banishment or death. The name of the Tyrant of Sp'a- 
 cuse has ever stood prominent on the list of faUen Kings of 
 the olden times, and for this reason he may claim some no- 
 tice in this Chapter. 
 
 d2
 
 52 MONABCHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 Among the sovereigns of ancient times wlio were driyen 
 from power, Dionysius the Younger is perhaps the most re- 
 markable for the great reverse of fortune by which he was 
 visited. Both father and son of this name, who reigned in 
 Sicily, were eminent men ; they were remarkable for their 
 ability and their tyranny, and in both there was a strange 
 mixture of good sense and insanity. The elder Dionysius 
 raised himself to the supreme power in Syi'acuse about B.C. 
 436, at which period he was not more than twenty-jfive years 
 of age. He was distinguished both as a general and as a 
 poet, and he experienced the ordinary destiny of soldiers and 
 authors. He lost as well as won battles ; and if at Olympia 
 his poems were received with groans and hisses, at Athens 
 he was awarded a poetical prize. Like the individual who 
 declared that he would rather have written the ballad of 
 ' Hosier's Ghost' than have accomplished what is ordinarily 
 accounted a more distinguished achievement, Dionj^sius de- 
 clared that he was more gratified by having gained a public 
 prize for his verses, than by having won laurel crowns for 
 stricken fields. And yet the man who confessed to this re- 
 finement of feeling was the same, if history be true, who 
 ordered the famous "ear," or cave, to be constructed for his 
 prisoners, all the sounds in which were conveyed to one 
 common tympanum, close to which Dionysius sat, for the 
 pleasant purpose of hearing what was said against him by 
 the captives. 
 
 In his character of father he is again presented to us under 
 a double aspect. He once reproved his son, the second 
 Dionysius, for some acts of terrible licentiousness. He an- 
 grily asked the oifcndcr if the latter had ever heard of his 
 father being guilty of such brutality, in his younger days. 
 
 " Certainly not," was the reply of the hopeful youth, " and 
 for a very good reason — you were not the son of a King." 
 
 "Boy!" exclaimed the monarch, "remember this, that 
 never wilt thou be the father of a King."
 
 SOME SOVEREIGNS OE THE OLDEN TIME. 53 
 
 The prophecy proved true, but the propliet was au im- 
 postor. He was the most licentious prince, and the most 
 sacrilegious scoffer, of his days ; he could not enter a divine 
 temple without robbing the altars of the Gods, and making 
 very bad jokes on his worse deeds. It may seem, in our 
 eyes, a venial fault, or even a justifiable act, to tear the 
 golden mantle from the statue of Jupiter, pluck the gold 
 beard from ^sculapius, or carry off" the costly adornments 
 of Proserpine ; but in the old time there were worshippers 
 who looked on those images with awe. These were as dis- 
 gusted by the crime as we should be, were the Prince Con- 
 sort to purloin the communion plate from the Sacramental 
 Table, or as our neighbours in France would have been, had 
 the Emperor walked away with the rich vessels of the Mass 
 to confer them on the successful Taureadors, on that Sun- 
 day when divine service was followed up by a bull-fight. 
 
 The elder Diouysius was rendered so suspicious, by his 
 own tyranny and cruelty, that he even dreaded the children 
 to whom he gave such fatherly counsel as that noticed above. 
 This dread and suspicious humour was carried so far, that 
 he never allowed wife, son, or daughter to enter his apart- 
 ment, until their garments had been examined, for the pur- 
 pose of discovering whether they carried concealed weapons. 
 
 There was only one person in the Court of the younger 
 Diouysius who was exempt from this matter of search be- 
 fore entering the Royal presence, namely, Plato. When that 
 great philosopher left the conduct of the Academy, to visit 
 the renowned sovereign at Syracuse, Diouysius sent a vessel 
 for his especial conveyance. When the ship came in sight, 
 the monarch drove down to the beacli in a car drawn by six 
 high-blooded steeds ; and when the philosopher stepped 
 ashore, Diouysius not only seated him in the royal car, but 
 leaped into the place of the charioteer, and drove the broad- 
 shouldered son of Aristou to the palace. 
 
 In that palace were assembled all tlie celebrated sages,
 
 54 MOKARCnS RETIRED PROM BUSIKESS. 
 
 scholars, artists, and wits of the period. His power seemed 
 so unassailable that he was wont to describe it, proverbially, 
 as "founded on a diamond." Syracuse was defended by 
 an immense army, and protected by so large a fleet and 
 such formidable fortifications, as to be the wonder and terror 
 of other governments ; the arsenal alone excited the specu- 
 lation and fears of contemporaries. The place, in fact, was 
 the Sebastopol of the period ; but, mighty as it was, it fell 
 before Dion, a handfuU of troops, and the few vessels which 
 brought them over. 
 
 Dion, the kinsman, and Plato, the friend, of Dionysius, 
 were the only two persons at the Court of the tyrant who 
 had the courage to give him good counsel. They united 
 even in advising him to surrender supreme power, and re- 
 tire with wealth which he could yet call his own. The King 
 banished his "cousin," and made of the philosopher a slave. 
 The outrage to the former led to the overthrow of the mon- 
 arch. Dion went to Greece an exiled man ; but he returned 
 from it with a force which drove Dionysius from Syracuse, 
 from which place however he contrived to carry off a vast 
 amount of valuable property. 
 
 The deposed tyrant found refuge at Locris, the native 
 place of his mother, Doris. His wealth enabled him to 
 attain here the supreme power, which he did not wield with 
 any of the wisdom acquired by experience. He had no re- 
 spect for either persons or property, and his cruelty was 
 only equalled in intensity by his unspeakable licentiousness. 
 It is almost incredible that this unclean monster was able 
 to hold the sovereignty of Locris during ten years, and that 
 he then quitted it, not onl}'' unmolested, but with so little 
 suspicion of his unpopularity as to leave his wife (or one of 
 his wives, — for he had two, one lady accompanying him in 
 liis travels, the other enjoying the chief honours only at 
 home) and children without any more than the ordinary 
 protection.
 
 SOME SOVEBEICr^TS OF THE OLDEK TIME. OO 
 
 The cause of the departure of Dionysius from Locris was 
 the anarchy which prevailed in Syracuse. Amid the factions 
 there contending for power, the once fugitive now appeared, 
 not more welcome than Louis Napoleon was in Paris to 
 the strugglers for government, in 1848. He had not yet 
 arrived in his old capital when the Locrians seized on the 
 princes and princesses of his family, whom he had left among 
 them. The citizens wreaked a diabolical vengeance upon 
 the women especially of this wretched household, in revenge 
 for old outrages on Locrian girls and matrons. Finally, they 
 tied up the prisoners, thrust long needles under their nails, 
 <islew them cruelly, brayed their bones and flesh in a mortar, 
 and, offering this as pleasant food for patriots, devoted all 
 who were too disgusted to taste thereof, to the Euries. 
 
 Dionysius, easily consoled for this catastrophe, maintained 
 himself on his recovered throne during three years, at the 
 end of which period the gallant Timoleon arrived to free the 
 Grreek cities from his tyranny, and consummated the work 
 by ejecting the monarch from his island throne for ever. It 
 is said that the unsceptred King was permitted to retire to 
 and establish himself at Corinth ; and it is from this period 
 that commences the course of his really luicrowned life. 
 There is some difficulty in determining whether he resided 
 at Corinth under a feigned name, or openly, yet miserably, 
 as seems most probable from the terms granted by Timoleon. 
 Under either aspect, the career of Dionysius as a pi'ivate 
 individual was in the most striking contrast with his career 
 as a sovereign. 
 
 Cicero sneers at him for the most creditable of his occu- 
 pations in the time of his adversity. The monarch turned 
 schoolmaster. He took a class and taught grammar, on the 
 public square. Cicero will have it that the ex-t}a*ant did 
 this in order that he might indulge in an oppression over 
 boys which he could no longer exercise over men. But the 
 adoption of such a pursuit was perhaps the result of a spirit
 
 56 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 of humility. Such a course was sometimes takeu by those 
 who had fallen from a high estate, in proof that they ac- 
 cepted their lowliness of condition with corresponding sub- 
 mission. We shall find a similar sample of humility in the 
 chapter devoted to the Kings of Wales ; and we may re- 
 member that what was done by Dionysius under necessity, 
 was performed by Pittheus, King of Troezene, out of love. 
 This wise monarch gave lessons in a school of his own 
 capital, and wrote a book which pleased Pausanias. 
 
 Justin says of Dionysius, that he probably thought he 
 I'ould purchase safety by humility. Not however that he 
 was exactly what any dispensation would call humble. He de- 
 scended to the habits, dress, and speech of the very lowest 
 class. He was not ashamed to look like, and be known 
 as, a vagabond ; he was often seen di"uuk, and his bloated 
 face and bloodshot eyes denoted the habitual drunkard. 
 Dirty, ragged, squalid, a true "Corinthian blackguard," 
 he eitlier for the most part lounged away his time in the 
 idleness that comes of debauchery, or in the practice of the 
 latter in its most crapulous forms. At taverns, in barbers' 
 shops, — where small matters of surgery and a vast amount 
 of gossip were done every day,— there Dionysius was to be 
 seen, making the customers laugh by his coarse wit, and 
 earning a few pence by the practice, wherewith to purchase 
 the indulgences in which he most dcdighted. When these 
 failed, he might be seen moodily hanging about the doors of 
 the driuking-houses, or staring at the dishes in the cooks' - 
 shops with eager and hungry eye. He was often mixed up 
 in squabbles before the magistrates, and chiefly with the 
 owners or frequenters of those places of evil resort which 
 Seneca aptly styles loca jSHdilem mehienlia, — " places which 
 dread the magistrate." But Ave are told that all this was 
 done out of a certain cunning. Ho knew how hateful was 
 the name even of a penniless ex-tyrant ; and he was desirous 
 to appear contemptible, in order that he might not be con-
 
 SOME SOTEREIGNS OF THE OLDEN TIME. 57 
 
 sidered dangerous. It was not exactly the course to take 
 by an ex-prince who wished to establish a public academy. 
 There may, too, be some exaggeration in the story. -Gillian, 
 whose gossip is quite as good as the solemn nonsense of 
 more pretentious but not more enlightened writers, de- 
 scribes the ex-king as being an admirable barber-surgeon. 
 The old Italian has told the story in good Greek ; but old 
 Abraham Fleming, some three hundred years ago, rendered 
 the graphic Greek into quaint English ; and in this quaint 
 English he tells us that the sceptreless Dionysius " was cu- 
 rious in curling and cutting, in lancing, in boring, in burn- 
 ing, in searing, and in everything besides appertaining to 
 those sciences." 
 
 " How came you," said Philip, the son of Amyntas, to the 
 illustrious exile, — " how came you to irretrievably lose the 
 great prize left to you by your father ?" "Because," said 
 Dionysius, " when my father left me the inheritance, he did 
 not also leave me what enabled him to get and helped him 
 to keep it — his good luck." 
 
 Perhaps the most melancholy guise in which the fallen 
 King appeared to the eyes of the multitude was when hard 
 necessity drove him to become an assistant to the priests of 
 Cybele. Then might he be seen, like the monks who pester 
 travellers for contributions at foreign inns, addressing him- 
 self to newly-arrived strangers and to the pious generally. 
 He solicited alms for the altar, the goddess, and the ser- 
 vants of both. This he did, not after the fashion of a grave 
 friar in Italy or Germany, but rather like a street mounte- 
 bank. He bared his arms, tucked up his robe, played vigor- 
 ously on the tambourine, danced till he was breathless, and 
 then, with supplicating smile, held his rattling instrument 
 for the " collection." His welcome at the temple depended 
 upon the amount brought in by him. It was in this way 
 that charity sermons were preached by the priests of Cybele. 
 Tender consciences may think this profane ; but is it less re- 
 
 D 3
 
 58 MONARCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 volting to see tlie " Eeverend" Mr. Spiirgeon at tlie Sunday 
 Gymnastics in Exeter Hall, and to hear him holding funny 
 conversations with Gabriel, and beating the Archangels in 
 argument ? 
 
 Finally, let us part even from Dionysius on good terms. 
 How long he lived has not been clearly ascertained, and 
 Aulus Gellius is incorrect in his statement of the period of 
 his living. Of the manner, though not of the time of his 
 dying, we have something told \^■orth repeating. It is af- 
 firmed that the ex-monarch died of excess of joy, at hear- 
 ing that a tragedy of his own had been rewarded at a pub- 
 lic competition by a poetical prize. If he had the spirit to 
 compose tragedies, we may suspect exaggeration in the de- 
 tails which exhibit him in the most degraded positions. 
 Nevertheless, strange things were done in the old times, 
 and a little of truth may be mixed up in the various stories 
 told of him. However this may be, we may not regret to 
 see an old man, not one of whose children survived him, or 
 had fimeral rites after death, die of joy at gaining a prize 
 for poetical excellence. His own history- might have fur- 
 nished him with good subject-matter. He had learnt at 
 Locris that the people considered insurrection against a 
 lawless tyrant, a duty. He had seen in Sicily that a people 
 too weak to resist oppression may find avengers in foreign 
 governments. The King of the Two Sicilies would not do 
 ill were he to think deeply upon the causes of the fall of 
 Dionysius. 
 
 A concluding word will perhaps be allowed, whereby to 
 notice the most remarkable of unsceptred Queens, — namely 
 Zenobia. Her Ml dates from the two hmidred and seventy- 
 third year of the Christian era. Septimia Zenobia was pro- 
 bably not quite the heroine which imagination and legend 
 make of her. She was addicted to drink, is suspected to 
 have hastened the death of her husband, and was mean and 
 treacherous in adversity. Egypt and Asia INIinor acknow-
 
 SOME SOTEREIGIS'S OE THE OLDE:!f TIME. 59 
 
 ledged the authority of the renowned Queen of Pahnyra. 
 Her learning, her beauty, and her virtue hare been themes 
 of universal admiration. She commanded seven hundred 
 thousand troops, spoke several languages, and wrote histo- 
 rical works which had the good fortune to be commended. 
 The "Queen of the East" was only the regent for her 
 children, when her ambition and arrogance drew down upon 
 her the terrible hostility of Aureliau. He found in her a 
 skilful enemy, whom it was hard to conquer ; and when the 
 chances of war threw the descendant of the Ptolemys into 
 his hands, his anger was aroused by her fierce opposition, 
 and he was only appeased by her tearful and abject submis- 
 sion. To calm the imperial wrath, she betrayed her dearest 
 friends ; and her treachery did not spare that sublime Lon- 
 ginus, who had sat by her side and taught her lessons of 
 philosophy. "She did not sustain in adversity," says Ma- 
 dame de Stael, in Corinne, "the grandeur of her destiny. 
 She neither knew how, like a man, to die for glory, nor, like 
 a woman, to perish rather than betray her friends." 
 
 Gibbon observes that Aurelian behaved towards the un- 
 fortunate adversaries in his power, with a clemency unusual 
 to ancient conquerors. " The Emperor presented Zenobia 
 with an elegant villa at Tibur, or Tivoli, about twenty mUes 
 from the capital. The Syrian queen insensibly sank into a 
 Eoman matron, her daughters married into noble families, 
 and her race was not yet extinct in the fifth century." Her 
 greatest merit, perhaps, was that she protected the Chris- 
 tians of the East ; and in this light, Zenobius, Bishop of 
 Elorence, in the time of St. Ambrose, had no reason to be 
 ashamed of the great sovereign, of whose family Baronius 
 supposes him to have been a member.
 
 GO 
 
 THE CANONIZED EX-KINGS. 
 
 " Earth's but an atom : greedy swords 
 Carve it among a thousand lords, 
 
 And yet they can't agree ! 
 Let greedy swords still fight and slay ; 
 I can be poor, but. Lord, I pray 
 
 To sit and smUe with thee." — Watts. 
 
 The number of Kings who have been canonized is very 
 limited; particularly when reference is had to the many 
 who have offered abundant homage to the higher power re- 
 cognized by them in the Tiara. They amount, in all, only 
 to twenty ; and five of these belong to England, — namely, 
 the rather apocryphal Lucius, the pious Anglo-Saxon Sebbi, 
 the bold Ethelbert, the ill-fated Edmund, and tlie royal Con- 
 fessor Edward. Of the nineteen sovereigns whom Papal 
 authority has registered on the roll of Saints, only four were 
 monarchs who resigned their crowns. These were Lucius, 
 King of Britain, Elesbaan, King of Ethiopia, Sigismund, King 
 of Burgundy, and Sebbi, King of the East Saxons. These are 
 the only male sovereigns who so distinguished themselves by 
 their piety, after exchanging their crown for the cowl, as to 
 merit the honours of canonization. Of two of them, at least, 
 very little is told, and that little is doubtful. Lucius is confi- 
 dently spoken of as being alive under Marcus Antoninus, 
 Verus, and Aurelius Commodus ; and we arc informed that, in 
 the year 182, he wrote to Pope Eleutherius, expressing a wish 
 to be made a Christian, by the Papal command. Two bishops 
 were despatched to baptize the royal neophyte, andLucius lias
 
 TKE CAKOKIZED EX-KINGS. 61 
 
 tlie reputation of being the first Christian Iviug in Europe. 
 Although no one can tell in what part of England the king- 
 dom of this potentate with a Eoman name was situated, there 
 is abundance of assertion as to his having abdicated, in order 
 to preach Christianity among the Heathens on the European 
 continent. He fell a martyr to his zeal. Two Roman lieu- 
 tenants, who could not tolerate the form of dissent upheld 
 by the Royal Missionary, ordered him to be beheaded ; and a 
 pond and a cave, in the county of the Grisons, called after his 
 name, are said to be the places in which he bathed and lived 
 • during the years followiiig his abdication. As no one can 
 positively affirm tliat King Lucius ever lived, it is hardly 
 worth while to consider if he can be identified with the so- 
 called missionary. A manuscript in the Vatican pronounces 
 affirmatively on both questions ; and upon such venerable 
 authority Lucius claims notice as being the first King in 
 Europe who became a Christian, and who straightway dis- 
 covered that a crown but ill agreed with Christianity. 
 
 More than three centuries and a half passed by before 
 another sovereign made the same sacrifice and reaped the 
 same reward. The potentate in question was that May-day 
 King, Sigismund, of Burgundy, the orthodox successor of 
 his Arian sire Grondebald. Sigismund was an eminently 
 pious, but also insanely passionate, monarch. He built many 
 churches, and murdered his only son. To do him justice, it 
 should be mentioned that he repented him of a deed, into 
 which he had been driven by suspicion that his son was en- 
 gaged in a conspiracy against him. The murderer became 
 uneasy at the thought that mere suspicion could not justify 
 him in being the assassin of his child, and he retired to a mo- 
 nastery, at a place called Agaune. His religion does not ap- 
 pear to have been founded on very sound principles; for 
 Sigismund, we are told, made a bargain with Heaven, where- 
 by it was arranged that by incuri-ing condign punishment in 
 this world, he should win Paradise in the next. Accordingly,
 
 62 MO^STAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 when the course of war brought the ferocious Clodomir near 
 Agaune, Sigisraund became the captive of the savage warrior, 
 by whom he was fluug into the Loire, and drowned. They who 
 have visited the Cathedral at Prague will, perhaps, remem- 
 ber the evidences there that the body of this eminently pious 
 assassin was recovered ; and, if they touched upon the sub- 
 ject Avith the Sacristan, they will probably not have forgotten 
 the good man's perplexity when endeavouring to show that 
 this slayer of his son very properly wore the crown, bright- 
 ness, and 'prestige of a saint. 
 
 "While Sigismund was in retirement in Agaune, there was 
 a swarthy Christian monarch, reigning over the Ethiopians, 
 in his splendid capital, Axuma, and the name of this monarch 
 was Elesbaan. He was so powerful as to be respected by 
 the Emperor Justin the Elder, at whose request he headed 
 a large force, Avith which he invaded Arabia, overthrew a 
 Jewish autocrat there, who was cruelly oppressing the Chris- 
 tians, and established a Christian ruler in his place. Eles- 
 baan returned in triumph, and reigned some years in glory, at 
 Axuma. But suddenly he was smitten with a conviction that, 
 to use an Eastern phrase, " it was all wool !" and he acted on 
 the conviction. He privately sent his diadem to Jerusalem ; 
 and on a dark night he issued from his palace, so meanly dis- 
 guised that no one who met him, that night, proceeding to- 
 wards a monastery a few miles from the capital, with a coarse 
 mat hanging over his arm, and a little wooden bowl inhis hand, 
 could have guessed that the humble wayfarer was the once 
 proud monarch of the Axumite Ethiopians. Elesbaan, after 
 he crossed the thi'eshold of the monastery, never issued from 
 it again. He fed very scantily on tlie meanest fare; read much, 
 thought more, and spoke never. No duty he was called upon 
 to perform was offensive to any sense of refinement which he 
 may be supposed to have possessed ; and ho consequently 
 died in an odour which was decided, by competent authority, 
 to be an odour of sanctity. Canonization ensued, as a matter
 
 THE CANONIZED EX-KINGS. 63 
 
 of course ; and Elesbaan sits among the tliousand mediators 
 honoured by his church. 
 
 About the year, on one night of which he was furtively 
 gliding through the gates of his capital with all the worldly 
 property he retained — his mat and bowl, — the warlike king- 
 dom of the East Saxons was founded by Erkenwin. Tenth 
 in descent from the founder was Sebbi, or Sebba, who, after 
 an active reign of thirty years, placed himself in the hands of 
 the Bishop of London, and received the permission he sought, 
 to resign his crown and assume the cowl. He died after two 
 years of monastic privacy ; and his tomb, in St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral, was, down to the year of the Great Fire, 1G66, one of 
 those metropolitan sights, to which youthful visitors and 
 strangers generally were conducted, as to a spectacle of no 
 insignificant quality. It would seem, from the fact that of 
 about a score of Kings who have been canonized, only three 
 or four had changed their palaces for monasteries, that he 
 who remained faithfid to the duties of his calling to the end, 
 was more accounted of than he who abandoned his perilous 
 vocation to find security in the cell of a monk. Edward 
 the Confessor, King and God-fearing man to the last, dying 
 with his hand on his sceptre, and his heart full of love for 
 his people, affords a more pleasant and pi'ofitable example 
 than Elesbaan, who, descending from his high estate, did 
 scavenger's work for his brother monks. 
 
 Althovigh Ethelbert, the first converted King of the 
 Saxons, did not win canonization by making sacrifice of his 
 crown, he was as warmly regarded by the Church as if he 
 had really accomplished the sacrifice. This may be seen in 
 his very satisfactoiy epitaph, which says, — 
 
 " Eex Ethelbertvis hie clauditui' in Poliandi'o ; 
 Fana pians, certe Christo meat absque Mseandro." 
 
 " Famous King Etlielbert lies liere, 
 Closed in this Pohander ; 
 For hallowing churches he goes clear 
 To Clu'ist without meander."
 
 6i MOXAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Turning now to tlie Queens, we find that a dozen female 
 sovereigns adorn tlie register of canonized ladies ; and of 
 these not less than seven resigned all royal privileges be- 
 fore they died, and worked out their object in communities 
 of religious sisters. The first may be said to have been 
 the most celebrated ; namely, the witty, beautiful, meek, mo- 
 dest, pious Burgundian Lady Clotilda, cousin to that King 
 Sigismund spoken of above, and wife to the redoubtable 
 Clovis, King of France. She managed his household with 
 particular vigilance, we are told, " over the maids ;" and she 
 managed her ferocious husband by that exquisite art eulo- 
 gized by the poet — ruling by seeming not to rule. She con- 
 verted her husband to Christianity ; that is to the profession, 
 but not the practice, for Clovis could not keep his hand from 
 the murder of his kinsmen. After the death of the King, 
 Clotilda saw her son Clodorair drown her cousin Sigismund ; 
 and the mere horror of the iniquity which reigned around 
 her, drew her to that monastery at Tours, where she spent 
 the last twenty years of her life, not as a mere sentimental 
 pietist, but a busy, bountiful, true-hearted woman. She 
 died in the year 545 ; and, thirteen hundred years after the 
 death of the royal nun, her name not only adorns but sanc- 
 tifies that glorious church in Paris which has recently been 
 erected in honour of her memory. 
 
 Her example was foUo-.ved by her daughter-in-law, the 
 Thuringian Eadpgundes, .who had been the captive, before 
 she became the wife, of Clotaire I. The early Christian 
 Kings of France were brutal savages ; and it is in no wise 
 astonishing that Eadegundes solicited permission from her 
 lord to retire into a nunnery. Clotaire complained that she 
 had made a nunnery of his palace, but he yielded consent ; 
 and the joy of his lady was only once dashed, when her hus- 
 band attempted, but without success, to force her from her 
 retreat. 
 
 This uuqueened Queen was a woman of intellect and feel-
 
 THE CANOIv'IZED EK-KINGS. 65 
 
 ing, and was so highly accomplished as to be able to read 
 the Fathers in Greek and Latin. Her condition as a nun 
 was in stronger contrast with her qneenly condition than 
 was the case with many royal ladies who gave iip troubled 
 thrones for undisturbed cells. She is described as "living 
 wholly on bread made of rye and barley, and on roots and 
 pulse, and never drinking any wane ; and her bed was a 
 piece of sackcloth spread upon ashes. She wore next her 
 skin a chain which had been given her by St. Junian, a 
 holy priest in that country, whom she fui*nished with clothes 
 worked with her own hands." She died at Poitiers in the 
 year 587. 
 
 France again furnishes us with the next example, but this 
 time in the person of an Englishwoman, Bathildes, the pur- 
 chased slave of a nobleman, who re-sold her to the second 
 Clovis, whom she first served as housekeeper, and subse- 
 quently as his wife. Sixteen years after the nuptials, during 
 which she had especially distinguished herself by her libe- 
 rality in building churches and monasteries, she withdrew in 
 685 to the "truly royal nunnery" at Celles, of which she 
 was herself the founder ; and there she passed the same num- 
 ber of years which she had spent upon the throne. 
 
 A short time after the death of this English Queen of 
 France, we meet with another instance of a female sove- 
 reign who renounced royalty and received the honours of 
 canonization. This is Cuthburga, who went through the 
 form of marriage with Alfved, King of the JSTorthumbers, 
 but who, with the sanction of her consort, " devoted herself 
 entirely to her heavenly spouse, in the Monastery of Bark- 
 ing, in Essex." The old records do not furnish us with a 
 more perfect example of an entirely voluntary withdrawal 
 from greatness — but also from duty — than this, in the 
 person of " Saint Cuthburga, Queen, Virgin, and Abbess," 
 Avho died in the beginning of the eighth century. Her 
 supposed remains were objects of veneration in the olden
 
 66 MONARCHS RETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 time. Such veneration has often been thrown away, as in 
 the ease of the princely San Fei-nanclo, at Madrid. The 
 nether part of this royal relic is apociyphal, but we are told 
 that valuable indulgences are granted to those who look on 
 that part with implicit faith. 
 
 The eight years passed in a monastery by that Empress 
 Theodora, whom the Greek Church acknowledges as a saint, 
 were years of a forced retirement, after a reign, not without 
 glory, of twelve years. The filial ingratitude of her son, 
 Michael III., compelled this hard necessity upon her, from 
 which she was exultingly relieved by death, in the year 
 867. 
 
 Kunegimda, the wife of the last Emperor of Germany of 
 the Saxon dynasty, Henry II., of whom the head of the 
 Church has made a St. Henry, in return for his endowment 
 of the Bishopric of Bamberg out of his private resources, 
 was so moved by the example of Cuthburga of England, 
 that she consented to be married only on the stipulation 
 that she should lead the life of a nun. It was she who, on 
 being subsequently accvised of having, herself, disregarded 
 the stipulation, proved the falsity of the report by walking 
 uninjured over a row of red-hot ploughshares. This alleged 
 fact, and the additional circumstance that she impoverished 
 herself for the honour of the Church, caused the latter to 
 glory extremely when Kunegunda, in 1025, then a widow, 
 resolved to take the veil. " On the anniversary day of her 
 husband's death, 1025, she assembled a great number of 
 prelates to the dedication of her church at Kaffingen ; and, 
 after the Gospel was sung at Mass, offered on the altar a piece 
 of the true cross, and then put off her imperial robes, and 
 clothed herself with a poor habit ; her hair was cut off ; and 
 the bishop put on her a veil and a ring, as the pledge of her 
 fidelity to her heavenly spouse." Fifteen years Kunegunda 
 lived in strict observance of the duties of an austere nun ; 
 and sixty years after her death, Innocent III. added to the
 
 THE CANONIZED EX-KINGS. C7 
 
 list of saints this uncro\ATied empress, virgin, —and simple 
 sister, in a monastery founded by herself. 
 
 The last example is presented to us in the person of a 
 lady "R-ho is well known to the general reader, in the Prin- 
 cess Joan, of the novel of ' Quentin Durward.' This daugh- 
 ter of Louis XI. was married in 1476, when she was only 
 in her thirteenth year, to her cousin the Duke of Orleans, 
 who detested her. Twenty-two years after, her husband as- 
 cended the throne as Louis XII. ; and as the new King had 
 an old affection for Anne of Brittany, the widow of his 
 predecessor, Charles VIIL, he easily procured a sentence 
 of divorce from Eome, espoused Anne, and drove Joan into 
 a rather richly endowed retirement at Eourges. The ex- 
 Queen both dressed and lived as a niui, and instituted the 
 Order of ]S"uns of the Annunciation of the Blessed A^rgin, 
 of which the Superioress bore no more dignified title than 
 that of Ancilla, or servant. Joan did not take the habit till 
 1504, and she died the year following. Canonization re- 
 warded her virtues, — but rather tardily, as it was not tiU 
 1738, above two centuries after her death, that Clement 
 XII. raised her to the rank of a Saint, and made of poor 
 Joan a new intercessor for man, with the Mediator who 
 alone stands between man and God. 
 
 AYalsingham, when treating of saints and relics, sharjjly 
 remarks on the custom of dividing the bodies of royal and 
 noble defunct personages, in connection with the death of 
 Queen Eleanor, whose body was buried in the monastery 
 at Amesbury, and whose heart was given to the Minorite 
 Friars in London. These friars, he says, " like the friars of 
 aU other orders, challenged part of the bodies of all great 
 persons dying, like greedy dogs, every one snatching for a 
 piece of a dead corpse." If there be some truth in this, it 
 must be recollected that all the time spent by ex-royal ladies 
 in nunneries, was not idly spent. The Corcyrian Nymph, 
 Aganella, when she had invented the ball, took it to jN'au-
 
 68 MONAECHS EETIEED FKOM BUSINESS. 
 
 sicaa, the daughter of King Alcinous, and taught her to 
 use it, princesses haviug uothiug to do, as she said, but to 
 amuse themselves. The mother-superiors, in convents inha- 
 bited by ci-devant queens, were also lenient with inmates 
 who brought dowries with them, but they gave better in- 
 struction nevertheless than Aganella imparted to the youth- 
 ful Nausicaa. 
 
 Of Kings ill Purgatory there must have been vast num- 
 bers, if we may rely upon painters and poets. There is only 
 a single instance, however, of a king having been seen in 
 limbo, and that was by a visionary process, Tundal thus 
 beheld a deposed Irish king, who suffered an intermittent 
 purgatory. His majesty had three hours of it out of the 
 twenty-four; during one-and-twenty hours he was unmo- 
 lested ; during the otlier three he was plunged in purgato- 
 rial flames nearly up to his waist, his offence being a disre- 
 gard of his conjugal vows. He wore also a red-hot tunic 
 down to the Avaist, in expiation of having killed a friend 
 near a church, and told a lie about it when questioned. AU 
 his other sins had been forgiven him. Is it more chari- 
 table than logical to conclude that as this was the only 
 king who was ever seen in Purgatory, he is also the only 
 sovereign untrue to his wife, faithless to his friend, and false 
 of tongue ? 
 
 The idea of a quiet, crownless lady, has induced an Eng- 
 lish poet to make a "retired queen" of Contemplation, to 
 whom he also gives the more humble name of " virtue's 
 nvirse," seen only by samts and hermits. To Contemplation 
 the elder Tom Wliarton addresses himself, saying — 
 
 " Teach me St. James's to despise." 
 In another poem this writer, who sees nothing 
 
 " in crowded courts, but scliools 
 
 For fops, or hospitals for fools," 
 
 says, in somewhat better taste, —
 
 THE CANONIZED EX- KINGS. 69 
 
 " From beauteous Windsor's high and storied halls, 
 Where Edward's chiefs start from the glowing walls, 
 To my low cot, from ivory beds of state, 
 Pleas'd I return, unenvious of the great." 
 
 A sentiment similar in spirit has been cordially confessed 
 by some British sovereigns, and has been acknowledged, 
 under compulsion, by others. Of these some notice will be 
 found in the following section.
 
 70 
 
 ritiiiit. 
 
 DETHRONED BRITISH AND SAXON KINGS. 
 
 " Mortality ! behold and fear ! 
 "Wliat a charge of flesh is here ! 
 Think how many royal bones 
 Sleep within these heaps of stones ; 
 Here they he, had realms and lands, 
 Who now want strength to stir then- hands ; 
 "Where, fi'om their pulpits seal'd with dvist, 
 They preach, ' In greatness is no trust.' 
 Here's an acre, sown indeed 
 "\A'ith the richest, royal' st seed, 
 That the earth did e'er suck in 
 Since the first man died for sin ; 
 Here the bones of birth have cried. 
 Though gods they were, as men they died ; 
 Here ai'c wands, ignoble things, 
 Dropt from the ruin'd sides of Kings ; 
 Here's a world of pomp and state 
 Buried in dust, once dead by fate." 
 
 Beaumont, On the Tomhs in Westminster. 
 
 In the legendary period of our history, this pleasant island 
 bore a poetical name : it was called " the water-guarded 
 green spot;" some of its early inhabitants gratefully Tiamed 
 it the Honey Island. Its present name is a memorial of its 
 deposition from independence, and the Isle of Britam pre- 
 serves in its appellation the name of tlic great conquei'or, 
 Prydain, the son of the renowned Aedd Mawr.
 
 DETIIKOKED BEITISH AITD SAXOX KIXGS. 71 
 
 The unicorn in the Royal Arms is of heavenly descent, like 
 the first crown ever worn by mortal man, Nimrod, of which 
 notice has been previously taken. When Ambros, a British 
 King, was dying, a star with a single bright beam appeared 
 in the sky ; in the beam there was the figure of a cbagon, 
 which Uther, the brother and successor of Ambros, took for 
 his crest, and was called Uther Pen Dragon. The dragon 
 remained a dragon as late as the reign of Edward I. ; and 
 some writers declare that this animal, attached to the star 
 ivitTi one heam, is to be recognized in the monoceros who, 
 with the lion, now upholds the shield of England. 
 
 The mutual jealousies of the half-hundred tribes into 
 which Britain was divided, at the period of the Eoman in- 
 vasion, were as fatal to the natives as the arms, valour, and 
 discipline of the invaders. The conquest of the island took 
 half a century to complete. During that time there are two 
 British names which shine with more than ordinary lustre, 
 namely the Chief, or King, Caradoc or Caractacus, and the 
 Queen Yictoria or Boadicea. When Caradoc was drasged 
 through Eome to the tribunal of Claudius he expressed his 
 reasonable wonder that the imperial possessor of the mag- 
 nificence he beheld around him should envy him the posses- 
 sion of a rude hut in Britain. When Boadicea found herself 
 dethroned by the victorious Eomans, she swallowed poison, 
 rather than live dishonom-ed. The two boldest of the ene- 
 mies of Eome in Britain present to us these respective traits 
 of their quality, in their fallen condition : the King was pa- 
 tient, and profited by his patience ; the Queen of the Iceni, 
 foiled in her vengeance, took impatient revenge upon her- 
 self. Mason, in his grand dramatic poem of ' Caractacus,' 
 has not forgotten the tradition that Caradoc had voluntarily 
 resigned his sceptre, but had resumed it to head his last as- 
 sault against the Eomans, which was followed by his be- 
 trayal to his foes by Cartesmunda, of whom he had asked an 
 asylum. " Caractacus" — so sings the stately semichorus of 
 Druids, —
 
 72 MONAECHS EETIRED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 " This night demands admission to our train : 
 He once our king, wliile aught his power avail'd 
 To save his country from the rod of tyrants, 
 That duty past does wisely now retire, 
 To end his days in secrecy and peace ; 
 Druid with Druids, m this chief of groves, 
 Even in the heart of Mona." 
 
 The ex-King rushed to arms, aud tempted Fortune, under 
 adverse omens and against the will of the Druids. There 
 is reason to believe that Claudius restored him to his home, 
 if not to his former power ; and probably the brave old man 
 died, not indeed "in the heart of Mona," but amongst the 
 Ordovices, after all. One of the finest pictures ever painted 
 by Tacitus in words is that which shows us the captive 
 Caradoc standing erect before Csesar, the Praetorian bands, 
 and the trophies which spoke of Roman triumph. Of all 
 the British captives, he alone was not abject ; aud when he 
 turned from listening to the compliments of Claudius on his 
 valour, to salute Agrippina, who sat iu state at a tribunal 
 near to that of her husband, the crowding spectators could 
 scarcely have told in which spectacle there was the most 
 cause for wonder, — a woman seated amid the ensigns and 
 the armies of Home, or a barbarian King shaking off his 
 fetters, and rendering her an unembarrassed homage. 
 
 Three centuries aud a half had elapsed when, in the reign 
 of Honorius, the Eoman force at this extremity of the Em- 
 pire was withdrawn to defend the provinces, menaced by in- 
 vasion, nearer to the capital. In the year 420 the enerA^ated 
 Britons found themselves helpless against Picts and Scots, 
 and, by the advice of their old Eoman masters, they invited 
 to their assistance those Sakai-sunce, or Saxons, who were 
 originally sprung from Asia, and who had fought their way 
 to the shores of the German Ocean. 
 
 About the year 449 those equivocal protectors entered 
 Britain, under banners bearing the figure of a mare and a 
 horse, from which symbols the chiefs of the Saxon force de-
 
 DETHRONED BEITISH AND SAXON KINGS. 78 
 
 rived their names— Heugist and Horsa. The Saxon Hept- 
 archy was the result, although not the immediate result, of 
 this invasion ; and seven Kings reigned in Kent, Sussex, 
 Essex, Wessex, Mercia, East Anglia, and Northumberland, 
 ' professedly united, but for ever seeking the bloody arbitre- 
 ment of war. Sharon Turner repeats the assertion that it 
 was no uncommon circumstance for a Saxon King to sur- 
 render his greatness, and seek in a monastery for the peace 
 which he had failed to find on his rude throne. There are 
 however only a few of these potentates in whose retirement 
 from sovereignty there any features of sufficient singularity 
 to warrant their being produced before the reader. 
 
 Among these is Sebbi, King of the East Saxons, already 
 mentioned. Erom his early days it had been remarked 
 that he was much more fitted for the Episcopal than the 
 Eoyal throne. After occupying the latter for more than a 
 quarter of a century, with credit to himself and little advan- 
 tage to his people, he expressed to his Queen a desire to 
 lay down his sceptre, and retire to a monastery. In order 
 that he might become a monk, he requested his consort 
 to agree to be divorced from him ; but to this request the 
 lady remained for a long time obstinately deaf Ultimately, 
 the conclusion was accompHshed, with her reluctant consent ; 
 and Sebbi received the religious habit at the hands of Wald- 
 here, Bishop of London, to whom he resigned all his worldly 
 wealth, for the benefit of the poor. The ex-king became an 
 exemplary monk ; and after his death, in 694, a circumstance 
 occurred which is held to be good proof of his monastic 
 virtue. When his conventual brethren were depositing 
 his body in a stone cofiin, they found the latter a span too 
 short : they hewed off" the end, and lengthened it to the re- 
 quisite extent. On again putting in the body, they found it 
 had either lengthened, or the coffin had shortened. They 
 thought to adapt one to the other by bending the knees of 
 the deceased Sebbi ; but the defunct King, having a respect 
 
 TOL. I, j3
 
 74 MONAECHS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS. 
 
 for seemliness, at once adjusted his remains to the limits of 
 the coffin, and the brethren carried him respectfully to the 
 church of St. Paul, London, with exultation moderated by 
 reverence. 
 
 We find a contrast to the case of Sebbi in that of a sove- 
 reign of a subsequent pei'iod. 
 
 That monarch was Ina the Pious, King of Wessex, who 
 obtained regal authority by means which were not strength- 
 ened by legal sanction. He was great in arms, — was still 
 more renoAvned for his piety. He founded Glastonbury 
 Abbey, and willingly surrendered his own sisters to be shut 
 up in convents, wherein dwelt companies of virgins, dead to 
 earthly inclinations, and living with their aspirations unceas- 
 ingly ascending to Heaven. Ina had reigned in glory for 
 more than thirty-six years, when, in the early part of the 
 eighth century, his Queen, Ethelburga, pressed upon him the 
 reasonableness of giviug up his sceptre into younger hands. 
 Ina, in his old days, without relaxing in religious observ- 
 ances, had fallen into sensual indulgence, and was undigni- 
 fiedly addfcted to gross feeding and deep drinking. Ethel- 
 burga was scandalized at this unseemly conduct in an old 
 man, and resolved to work in him a desired reform. Ina had 
 a rural palace, in which he once entertained a riotous com- 
 pany at a banquet of more than ordinary length, splendour, 
 and excess. The King of Wessex was in a condition which 
 brought tears to the eyes of the more refined Ethelburga ; 
 and as soon as he had sunk into a drunken slumber on his 
 bed, she gave some instructions to a fiiithful attendant, 
 which were to be carried out on the following day. She 
 then lay down by the side of her unconscious consort, with 
 whom she departed at early dawn. 
 
 The power of the Queen and the authority of lier confi- 
 dant must have been very great. But a brief time had 
 elapsed after tlic departure of Ethelburga and Ina, the latter 
 equaUy sick and sad at heart, when, by order of the official
 
 DETURONED BRITISH AKD SAXON KINGS. 75 
 
 above alluded to, a scene took place which probably asto- 
 nished the actors themselves. The latter drove cattle into 
 the rooms, defiled them still farther with everj possible pol- 
 lution, and finally deposited a sow and a litter of pigs in the 
 very bed where Ina and Ethelburga had rested the previous 
 night, and from which, but for different reasons, both had 
 risen unrefreshed. 
 
 As these were on their way to their capital, Ethelburga 
 induced Ina to retiu'n to the country residence they had left 
 that morning. She probably had the less difficulty in ac- 
 complishing this, inasmuch as that the King of Wessex was 
 too rudely shaken by his late excesses, to care to do other- 
 wise than as he was bidden. When he reached the rural 
 palace, he was aghast at the spectacle which he beheld, and 
 indeed there was before him offence against more than anv 
 single sense. The details need not be narrated. "The 
 King," we are told by William of Malmesbury, "was asto- 
 nished at seeing a place which yesterday might have vied 
 with Assyrian luxury, now filthily disgusting and desolate ; 
 and, silently pondering on the sight, his eyes at length 
 turned upon the Queen." The latter is reported by the 
 same historian to have made the following application of 
 this very extraordinary text : — " My noble spouse, where are 
 the revellings of yesterday ? where are the tapestries dipped 
 in Sidonian dyes ? where the ceaseless impertinence of pa- 
 rasites ? where the sculptured vessels overwhelming the 
 very tables with their weight of gold ? where are the deli- 
 cacies so anxiously sought, throughout sea and land, to pam- 
 per the appetite ? Ai'e not all these things smoke and va- 
 pour ? Have they not all passed away H Woe be to those 
 who attach themselves to such, for they in like manner shall 
 consume away ! Are not all these like a rapid river hasten- 
 ing to the sea ? and woe to those who are attached to them, 
 for they shall be carried away by the current. Reflect, I 
 beseech you, how wretchedly will these bodies decay, Avhicli 
 
 E 2
 
 76 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 we pamper on such xmbounded luxury ! Must not we, who 
 gorge so constantly, become more disgustingly putrid ? The 
 mighty must undergo mightier torments, and a severer trial 
 awaits the strong." Had the brain of Ina not been too se- 
 riously disturbed by the last night's wine, he might have at 
 once detected that Ethelburga drew illogical inferences from 
 ill-founded premises. As it was, the old and nervous mon- 
 arch allowed himself to be persuaded. He threw away his 
 sceptre, gave his mantle to a successor, and, proceeding to 
 B-ome, " he was shorn in secret, and, clad in homely garb, 
 grew old in privacy." Although he is praised for his con- 
 stancy, some svispicion is excited upon this particular point 
 b}^ the fact that the Queen (who accompanied him ia his 
 voluntary exile) is spoken of as making it her constant care 
 to soothe his sorrows by her conversation, and stimulating 
 him, "when wavering," by her example. Some historians 
 say that Ina even kept a school at Rome, and all agree that 
 Ethelburga took the veil. The King died at no great period 
 after his arrival in the Eternal City, in 728. His prede- 
 cessor, Ceadwalla, had died in the same locality ; and, indeed, 
 so ntimerous were the abdications of the Saxon monarchs, 
 that, as we are assured by the learned and exact author of 
 the preface to the ' Monasticon,' not less than thirty Anglo- 
 Saxon Kings and Queens, within the limits of two centuries, 
 resigned their crowns in order to embrace the monastic 
 state. 
 
 " Quis non miratur," are the words of Masham, " xxx 
 Reges et Reginas Anglo-Saxoues intra 200 annos, contemp- 
 tis mundi illecebris, religiosam obiisse solitudinem ? Quis 
 magnificam in condeudis monasteriis profusionem non su- 
 spicit ?" In these splendid monasteries the way of life of 
 one was the way of life of all. The act of abdication from 
 the throne to a monastery was deemed an " ennobling." Thus 
 Bede, after saying that Coinred " for some time nobly go- 
 verned the kingdom of the Mercians," adds, "he did a much
 
 DETHEOKED BEITISH AND SAXON KINGS. 77 
 
 more noble act by quitting tbe throne of his kingdom, and 
 going to Rome, where, being shorn, when Constantine Avas 
 Pope, and made a monk, at the relics of the Apostles, he 
 continued to his last hour iu prayers, fasting, and alms- 
 deeds." Speaking of Oifa (of Mercia), Bede says, " He, with 
 like devotion, quitted his wife, lands, kindred, and country, 
 for Christ and for the Gospel, that he might receive an hun- 
 dred-fold in this life, and in the world to come life everlasting. 
 He also, when they came to the holy places at Eome, re- 
 ceiving the tonsure and adopting a monastic life, attained 
 the long wished-for sight of the blessed Apostles in heaven." 
 Alban Butler, commenting on these abdications, very fairly 
 remarks, that the world never saw anything similar till the 
 Christian era had begun. These examples, however, are 
 confined to two centuries, when the priesthood had a super- 
 natural power, and did not always employ it for unprofitable 
 purposes. Dr. Newman, in the ' Life of St. Richard,' which 
 he wrote, or edited, ascribes such results to the fact that the 
 hearts of these Kings were the strong soil in Vv^hich religion 
 naturally produces great fruits. This is partly true ; but it 
 must be remembered that in many instances these sovereigns 
 only gave up a position that was constantly menaced by sa- 
 vage enemies, for one of secure calm on earth, and which 
 had the promise attached to it of a brighter calm hereafter. 
 Bede states that at the tombs of Ina and Etheiburga mi- 
 racles were performed during a considerable period. AVheu 
 this supposed proof of the sanctity of this famous couple 
 ceased to be " performed," we are not told. That one mira- 
 cle was accomplished there, was accounted sufiicient war- 
 ranty of the righteousness of those who were honoured in 
 the performance. 
 
 lua's Queen was a more reasonable woman than Ethel- 
 drida, the royal consort of King Egfrid. There was a story 
 current touching the extraordinary purity of this wife of two 
 husbands, which Bede was not inclined to take upon hear-
 
 78" MONAECnS RETIRED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 say. That celebrated writer questioned Bishop Wilfrid on 
 the subject ; and the prelate vouched for the truth of the re- 
 port, partly on the authority of Egfrid himself, who very 
 unwillingly resigned her, at her own request, to the Bishop, 
 by whom she was covered with the mystic veil, at Colding- 
 ham, in Berwickshire. Subsequently she became abbess of 
 the monastery at Ely, where she was, in the words of Bede, 
 " the virgin mother of very many virgins dedicated to God." 
 Among the good deeds of this renowned unqueened Queen, 
 are reckoned — her wearing woollen instead of linen gar- 
 ments, and her reluctance to indulge in the pardonable 
 luxury of washing in hot water. She would never do this, we 
 are told, except on the eve of some of the great church fes- 
 tivals ; and even then she would not use the water till she 
 had first washed therein all " the other servants of God 
 there present." St. Thomas of Ely, her biographer, seems 
 to have an idea that fastidious Christians might sneer at 
 these ablutions of the consort of Egfrid. To such persons, 
 he very curtly observes, that they who are washed in heart, 
 are always sufficiently washed in body. The royal abbess 
 died of the plague, after sufleriug an operation Avhich laid 
 open her jaw. She was buried in a wooden coffin ; but some 
 years afterwards, when this was opened, not only was her 
 body perfectly free from corruption, but the gaping wound 
 in the jaw was healed ; and such purity was inherent in her, 
 that the very touch of her garments expelled the most ob- 
 stinate of devils from the bowels of the possessed. 
 
 It should be noticed that these " ladies," or queens, occa- 
 sionally enjoyed as much splendour in a monastery as on a 
 throne. Eadburga, the criminal wife of King Beorhtrine, 
 sought refuge at the court of Charlemagne ; and tliat poten- 
 tate placed her in a monastery, expressly, it is said, that she 
 might live in a splendid style ! This royal lady ended her 
 days a beggar in the streets of Pavia. In testimony that 
 luonasteries were not necessarily mean places, we have the
 
 DETHEOXED BRITISH A>T) SAXOX EIKGS. 79 
 
 story of the Abbess Edith, daiighter of King Edgar. Ethel- 
 wold, Bishop of Winchester, saw her when he was engaged 
 in reforming the lax discipline of the Benedictines. Her 
 splendid dress shocked the austere notions of the prelate. 
 " Daughter," he said, " the Spouse whom you have chosen 
 delights not in external pomp : it is the heart which He de- 
 mands." To this the royal abbess replied, " Very true. Fa- 
 ther; and my heart I have yielded to Him. As long as it 
 is His, he will not be offended Avith a little external pomp." 
 Dr. Lingard, who cites this story from ancient records, em- 
 phatically asserts that the virtues of Edith justified the reply. 
 
 That a monastic life glorified the monarch who adopted 
 it, was typified by an act of St. Berach. He received a 
 little, mean-looking King, anxious to abdicate, and this 
 monarch was at once rendered tall and majestic, by the cowl 
 which the infant Saint put upon his head, after setting him 
 to sleep on his lap. 
 
 It may be here appropriately mentioned, that amongst the 
 early Saxon monarchs set down in the roll of dethroned 
 sovereigns, is "St. Richard the King." His life may be 
 read in the Hagiographies edited by Dr. Newman. It must 
 be observed, however, that, in commencing the life of " St. 
 Richard the King," the author is compelled to make a ra- 
 ther humiliating confession, — namely, that he knows little 
 or nothing of his hero, — whose biography is very meagre 
 and unsatisfactory. St. Richard is supposed to have lived 
 during the latter half of the seventh century, but the period 
 is disputed. He is imagined to have been a sovereign, yet 
 nobody knows precisely of what or of whom. His principal 
 claim to reputation is in his having been the father of three 
 Saxon Saints, and in having received the honours of canon- 
 ization, out of compliment to his connections. The eldest 
 of the three Saints, of whom " King Richard " was the fa- 
 ther, was AVillibald, who not only persuaded his brother 
 "VVinnibald and his sister Walburga, but also his royal sire,
 
 80 MONAECITS KETIEED FROM BTTSIKESS. 
 
 to accompany him on a pilgrimage to Eome. They set out 
 in the year 721. It was not, however, given to Eichard the 
 King to behold the Eternal City. He died at Lucca ; and 
 at his tomb were performed miracles — which seem to have 
 been lumbering, motiveless, and profane. The very dust of 
 the tomb of this so-called King, who gave up his princely 
 condition to turn pilgiim, was long an object of venera- 
 tion with all who visited the shrine — where the dust was 
 sold and eagerly purchased. Why not ? asks Dr. Newman : 
 the dust of St. Hichard the King was surely more valu- 
 able than "a bronze from Herculaneum or a coin of Ca- 
 ligula." 
 
 We have a less apocryphal "unprinced Prince" in the 
 person of Athelstan, the brother of Alfred, who is known 
 in Hagiography by the title of St. Neot. It was after gain- 
 ing a great battle that he walked on the shore at Sandwich 
 Bay, and, in utter disgust at the bloody affair, although it 
 had ended in triumph for him, he hurried away, entered a 
 monastery, and was never after heard of, save by the name 
 of St. Neot. In proof that the little Saint was identical 
 with the lofty Athelstan, the hagiogi^aphers certify that a 
 calf-skin, which was suspended in his hut to keep the wind 
 from his head, was for many years afterwards a specific 
 against swellings in the face. It is added, that if St. Neot 
 happened to wish to leave the monastery after the gates 
 were locked (the Saint, it must be remembered, was too 
 short to reach to the ^ej), key and lock would descend to 
 a level with the Saint, and perform the operation of unlock- 
 ing, without troubling himself to use his hand ! Had not 
 very serious, earnest, and excellent men given their warranty 
 for the identity of Athelstan and St. Neot, the subjc^ct 
 would hardly have been worthy of notice ; and as even at 
 this day, at Lucca, the traveller hears of " St. Eichard the 
 Kint^," who changed a crown for a cowl, the introduction of 
 both personages will, perhaps, not be thought misplaced.
 
 DETHBOISTED BETTISH AND SAXON KINGS. 81 
 
 In the year 827, the Heptarchy is popularly said to have 
 given way to a monarchy, and Egbert is set down as the 
 first " King of England." To Athelstan however, the sixth 
 successor of Egbert, some authors assign the proud title of 
 first undisputed King, as it was not till his reign, which 
 commenced in 905 and concluded in 938, that the King of 
 England ceased to have an adversary in his territory — in 
 the persons of the Danes. 
 
 Fourteen Saxon Bangs had governed since Egbert, when 
 Edmund Ironside made a partition of his kingdom with the 
 Danish sovereign, Canute. Canute himself became, hke 
 many other Kings of this and a subsequent century, an un- 
 sceptred monarch, by occasional retirement to a monastery 
 for prayer, penitence, or simple relaxation. Monarchs fre- 
 quently left public business undone, by taking up their resi- 
 dence in monasteries during the periods of great festivals of 
 the Church. The Abbey of Ely was a favourite place of re- 
 sort with Canute, for the monks sang merrily, and the KiniJ 
 loved a cheerful song. The holy community received him 
 with much pomp, as he stepped out of his boat, or leaped 
 lightly, in winter-time, from his sledge, near the gates of the 
 sacred edifice. Three of the Danish line reigned succes- 
 sively, and then, in 1041, the Saxon line was restored in 
 Edward the Confessor, between whom and the Worman 
 Conqueror, William, there stands only Harold — a u.surper 
 by guile, who made way for a usurper by power of the 
 sword. ^ Harold himself is placed by early legends among 
 the unseeptred monarchs ; and there was long extant a tra- 
 dition that he had escaped from Hastings, entered a monas- 
 tery, and died penitent, in an honoured old-age. William 
 received the submission of the inhabitants in the year 1066, 
 about six hundred and seventeen years after Hengist and 
 Horsa liad pitched their banners in the Isle of Thanet, — the 
 symbol on which is stiU perpetuated in the figure of the 
 steed that remains to this day the crest or representative 
 
 e3
 
 82 MONAECHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 of the countj of Kent — where Roman eagle and Saxon 
 horse first found footing. 
 
 Hitherto, it will have been seen that the influence which 
 ruled the resignation of the Anglo-Saxon Kings came from 
 the priests, by whom the much-troubled though not always 
 reluctant monarch was either pushed or persuaded into the 
 cloister. The Druids, before them, exercised a power scarcely 
 inferior. To this, allusion is aptly made by Mason, in the 
 words addressed by a Druid to Caractacus, when the latter 
 sought to re-assume his kingly authority, yet promised 
 obedience to the sacred will. 
 
 " Thou art a Kiag, a sovereign o'er frail mau ; 
 I am a Druid, servant of tlie Gods ; 
 Such service is above sucli sov'reignty, 
 As well thou know'st. If they should prompt these Hps 
 To intcrchct the thing thou dar'st to do, 
 What would avail thy daring ?" 
 
 Neither Briton nor Saxon monarch might be bold enough 
 to give a defiant reply to so confident a query. This irresis- 
 tible influence however gradually ceased to exist, but not 
 without long and obstinate attempt at resistance. 
 
 Indeed there wei'e symptoms, before the Conquest, that 
 the ' people ' were beginning to share in a potentiality 
 which for a long period was enjoyed only b}' the priests. 
 The learned King Ceolwulf, who read and corrected Bede's 
 manuscript History of the Angles, was sufficiently troubled 
 by subjects as well as saints to induce him to resign the 
 crown of Northumbria with a declaration that eartlily trou- 
 bles were beneath the consideration of a Christian King. 
 The royal and luxurious scholar found the ease and leisure 
 lie most loved, in a monastery. A more marked symptom 
 of increasing poptilar power is to be found in the history of 
 Hardiknute. lie ordered the levy of " ship money ;" but 
 as this order was not made in a " general assembly," the 
 recalcitrant people expressed their opinions in sucli a for-
 
 DETHEONED • BRITISH AKD SAXOK KINGS. 83 
 
 midable guise, at AVorcester, that the Dane, fearing deposi- 
 tion, yielded to the popular will. 
 
 It may be added, that if there were both leisure and se- 
 cure ease for uncrowned Kings in monasteries, there was 
 no lack of interesting occupation and amusement for re- 
 tired Princesses. It was the favourite sport of the Princess 
 Edburga, in the nunnery to which she retired, to rise in the 
 middle of the night, steal away all the " socks " of the sleep- 
 ing sisters, wash them, perfume them, and replace them on 
 the beds of the nuns, ready for use again. The nightly 
 wonder aiforded a pleasant staple of gossip when the ladies 
 met at breakfast, in the refectory, on the following morning. 
 Nor was their only amusement made to consist in such trifles; 
 they evidently understood and practised the enjoyment of 
 private theatricals. We hear of a very accomplished royal 
 nun, named Hroswitha, who, from the year 970 to 980, -RTote 
 half-a-dozen plays, "in the style of Terence," all tending to 
 show the uses and advantages of living in a condition of 
 perpetual and cloistered virginity. If they were as dull as 
 the letters of Sulpicius Severus on the same subject, the 
 audience deserved some commiseration ; but at the readings 
 or recitings of these j)lays, the audience, including the spi- 
 ritual men who had once been sceptred monarchs, were 
 deeply interested in the subject ; and we may be permitted 
 to fancy the applause which followed sentiments wherein the 
 hearers were told that, if it were good for Kings to lay down 
 their crowns, there was a crown which their daughters, the 
 sponscd Christi, should preserve for eyer. 
 
 It is thus we see that a " religious" life was not in all cases 
 either a dull or a quiet one. In the eighth centiu-y we find 
 Alcuin begging the uproarious Yorkshire priests not to go 
 scouring over the country, shouting at fox-chases : — " jN'on 
 per campos discurrentes, vulpes agitando, declament." 
 
 The luxurious Kings of early times in England, who passed, 
 of their own accord, into comfortable cloisters, would have
 
 84 MOKARCHS RETIRED FROM BrSI>'ESa. 
 
 done well to remember the example of Abraham, Avbo was 
 as great a King as they, in bis way, and who 
 
 " Chaldea left, to till 
 The moss-grown Haraii's flinty soil; 
 Hydras of thorns absorb'd his gain, 
 The commonwealth of weeds rebeU'd, 
 But labom- tamed th' ungrateful plam." 
 
 Certainly, wben "William left Normandy for England, be 
 quitted no ricb Cbaldea for unrequitive Haran, but be was 
 first of a line of monarcbs remakable for their untiring en- 
 ergy, in good or evil. Since bis accession, no English King 
 has voluntarily withdrawn from the exercise of power. In 
 few cases can the expulsion of a King from the throne, how- 
 ever unmerited the catastrophe may seem, be said to be the 
 result of any cause but one residing in the King's weakness, 
 folly, or wickedness. Sympathy for the least erring among 
 them, and aversion from those whose tjTanny was often more 
 oppressive than that of the monarcbs whom they overthrew, 
 should not cause this fact to be forgotten. It is stated here, 
 rather than asserted in the following section, wherein there 
 will be found, not so much a detail of causes, as a narrative, 
 however imperfect, of consequences. The difficulties of 
 Kingship, however, are well defined in the next quotation, 
 from Cowper.
 
 85 
 
 DEPOSED KINGS, FROM THE CONQUEST TO 
 JAMES THE SECOND. 
 
 " To be suspected, thwarted, and withstood, 
 E'en when he labours for his country's good, — 
 To see a band call'd patriot, for no cause 
 But that they catch at popidar applause, 
 Careless of all th' anxiety he feels, 
 Hook disappointment on the pubhc wheels ; 
 With all theii- fluent flippancy of tongue. 
 Most confident when palpably most wrong ; — 
 If this be kingly, then farewell, for me. 
 All kingship ! And may I be poor and free !" — Cowpee. 
 
 Seten royal lines have held sovereignty in England since 
 tlie accession of the Normans in 1066. These Normans 
 not only intruded themselves without right, save that of the 
 sword, but they succeeded each other irregularly. Allowing 
 AVilliam to have established his right by the sword, he 
 should have been succeeded by his son Robert ; but the 
 rightful monarch, wronged by two brothers, lingered during 
 more than a quarter of a century, a melancholy and neg- 
 lected captive, in Cardiff Castle. It was for attempting to 
 escape, after he had renounced his claim to the throne, that 
 excuse was found for depriving Eobert of his sight. He had 
 fled on horseback ; but his steed carried his rider into a 
 quagmire, and had not strength to carry him out of it. The 
 unhappy Prince was easily captured by his pursu.ers ; and 
 his jealous and usurping brother satisfied an immanly but 
 not unusual vengeance, by putting out his eyes. The first
 
 86 Mo:N"Aiicns retired from BrsixEss. 
 
 Christian Emperor, Constantine, had forbidden the practice 
 of such revenge : the face of man, he said, should not be 
 deformed, for it was the seat of celestial beauty. But Con- 
 stantine, who wrote very excellent sermons, if we may judge 
 by the sample afforded by the single discourse which has 
 survived to our times, murdered his son Crispus, and did 
 not always pi^actise what he preached. Henry's act, which 
 incapacitated his brother for the throne, was one of mercy, 
 compared with that of the great Constantine towards his 
 son. After four Norman Kings had irregularly held sway, 
 commenced the brilliant yet ill-fated Plantagenet line, whose 
 eight Kings occupied the throne during a period of nearly 
 two centuries and a half. Young Arthur, of this race, like 
 Robert of the Norman, was the "true prince" who never 
 came to his own. John held the kingdom as a tributary of 
 the Holy See. Edward II. and Richard II. form the two 
 great examples of monarchs Aaolently deprived of both great- 
 ness and life. In Edward's case there was but short space 
 between his prison and his grave. The terrible death at 
 Berkeley Castle closed in horror a reign of twenty years. 
 
 The catastrophe which crushed Edward II. has gained for 
 him a s}Tnpathy which he little deserved. He was the 
 great oppressor of his people. He had shed more blood 
 than any King since the Conquest. For the first time in 
 England, it was in his reign that a prince of the royal house 
 and a peer of the realm perished on the scaffold. The vic- 
 tim was Thomas, Earl of Lancaster. William the Con- 
 queror, however, was the first who beheaded a peer, AVal- 
 theof, Earl of Northumberland. Peers and people united 
 to deprive Edward of his authority ; and he was the first 
 King of England who was formally deposed. It is worthy 
 of observation that the old Saxon spirit had never been 
 trodden out by the heel of the Norman ; and Saxon and 
 Norman together united at last in sharp scrutiny of the 
 actions of their sovereigns. It was the people, as well as
 
 DEPOSED b:i>"gs oe exglakd. 87 
 
 the Barons, who compelled John to sign the charter of their 
 freedom at Euunymede ; and the people had the greatest 
 share in the deposition of Edward II. Their representatives 
 were strong in the Parliament which dethroned an unworthy 
 King ; and so little idea was there of contesting the right of 
 the Parliament to do so, that when the resolution had been 
 confirmed, the Archbishop of Canterbury rose and preached 
 a brief but smart sermon, from the rather illogical masim. 
 Vox populi vox Dei; — and yet no one knew better than that 
 prelate that such was not the case when, as Professor Eose 
 has remarked, that popular voice called out, "Crucify Him !" 
 The forms used on this occasion of the first solemn de- 
 position of a King of England (1327) were exceedingly sim- 
 ple, and a brief notice of them may be interesting to the 
 general reader. Edward was in safe keeping at Kenilworth, 
 whither commissioners were sent by the Parliament, to an- 
 nounce to him the irrevocable decree. These commissioners 
 were delegates representing eveiy class, from the Prince to 
 the mvdtitudinous Commons. The delegation was universal 
 England in little, proclaiming the downfall of their King, — a 
 consequence of an act of their own wdl, legally exercised. 
 AVIien they had assembled in the hall at Kenilworth, Ed- 
 ward entered the apartment, attired in complete mourning, 
 and looking as pale as a spectre. The episcopal delegates, 
 after a few words of ordinary courtesy, took upon them- 
 selves to communicate to him the resolution of the people, 
 which deprived him of his kingdom. Edward's conduct may 
 have authorized Victor Hugo to assert that 
 
 " Les rois ne lachent que quand le peuple arrache." 
 
 When Edward heard the popular sentence, he demurred, 
 mimnui'ed that he had been iU-advised, hinted that if fur- 
 ther opportunity were allowed him, he would rule more dis- 
 creetly, and finally, seeing that all remonstrance was useless, 
 he submitted to the people's sentence. Tins effort however
 
 88 MOlfATlCTtS EETIEED rROAl BUSI>^ESS. 
 
 cost lilm so much, that he fell down in a swoon, from which, 
 had he never recovered, he would have been a happy man. 
 Such officious zeal was employed to restore him to con- 
 sciousness, that he was soon enabled to be a spectator of 
 the remainder of the ceremony of his ruin. The delegates 
 requested him to surrender the royal insignia ; and these he 
 made over, most reluctantly, to their keeping. Judge Truasel 
 then stepped in advance of his fellows, and thus pronounced 
 the words which definitively took from the monarch the 
 sceptre which he had borne so unwisely: — 
 
 " Unto thee, King, I, William Trussel, in the name of 
 all men of this land of England, and prolocutor of this Parlia- 
 ment, resign to you, Edward, the homage that was made to 
 you some time ; and from this time forth, I defy thee, and 
 deprive thee of all royal power, and I shall never be atten- 
 dant on thee as King, from this time." 
 
 Edward groaned in spirit, but his attention was further 
 aroused by the action of Sir Thomas Blount, Steward of the 
 King's Household. That official, as Judge Trussel retired, 
 took his place ; and Sir Thomas, breaking his stafi" of office 
 before the King's face, resigned his employment, and pro- 
 claimed the dissolution of the royal household. 
 
 Tlius far the people generally were confederates one with 
 another in this solemn and salutary act ; but they were not 
 responsible for what followed. It was private vengeance 
 that offered the imprisoned King ditch-water for drink, 
 which kept him scant of food, treated him with ignominy, 
 and consigned him to the horrible death by whicli his ene- 
 mies finally got rid of their victim. There was a tradition 
 long preserved, that his murder was the consequence of a 
 direction, craftily worded and cunningly unpunctuated, ad- 
 dressed by the right-reverend Bishop of Hereford to Gurney 
 and Maltravers, who were specially employed about the royal 
 victim. The direction was said to have been conceived in 
 these terms: — "Edvardum Regem occidere nolite timere bo-'
 
 DEPOSED KINQS OF ENaLAXD. 89 
 
 num est." Such a commission might be read by assassins, 
 as an authority to do their di'ead office ; and by him who 
 gave it, as a prohibition against committing m;irder. 
 
 It may be considered that if murder itself was ever lightly 
 thought of in England, the fault lay with our Danish Kings. 
 Under them the Cai'nifex, or executioner, was a person of 
 great dignity. He ranked vrith the Archbishop of Tork, 
 Earl Gordon, and the Lord Steward. 
 
 When Eichard the Second, in 1377, succeeded his grand- 
 father, Edward III., the people entertained hopes that the 
 administration of the son of the Black Prince would be of 
 advantage to the nation generally. But the unliappy mon- 
 arch was soon governed by unprincipled favourites, and was 
 too indolent and too much addicted to pleasure, to withstand 
 their pernicious influence. His rapacity and prodigality 
 provoked the rebellion, at the head of which stood Henry, 
 Duke of Lancaster. "When a great part of his army passed 
 over to Bolingbroke, Richard put on the suit of a monk, made 
 his way to Conway, and sat down among his few friends, 
 " all sorrowful, aU. sad and distressed." They wandered from 
 castle to castle. These were iinfurnished, and the wanderers 
 had nothing to rest upon but straw. The forlorn King, in 
 his utter extremity, surrendered himself to the Earl of 
 Northumberland. The Earl had called Christ to witness 
 that not a hair of the royal head should suffer ; and he led 
 Richard, still in the unwarlike guise of a monk, to the feet 
 of Duke Henry. When Duke Henry took possession of 
 the King at Flint, and the deposition of the latter, although 
 not declared, was made manifest, the Earl of Salisbury re- 
 called to mind that the catastrophe had been foretold by 
 Merlin and by Bede ; and therewith they especially who had 
 betrayed King Richard were reconciled to their treason, as 
 having been useful in accomplishing what had been thus 
 solemnly predicted. 
 
 The old poet Daniel, who succeeded Spenser as Poet Lau-
 
 90 ilOKAHCHS EETIKED TEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 reate, has described the ride of Boliughroke, and the de- 
 posed Eichard, into London : the latter, 
 
 " Most meanly mounted on a simple steed, 
 Degi-aded of aU grace and ease beside, 
 Thereby neglect of aU respect to breed." 
 
 The poet makes the young bride of the fallen monarch a 
 spectatress of the triumph of Henry and the degradation of 
 Eichard. As the two approach, she exclaims — 
 
 " Oh, what deUght mine heart takes by mine eye ! 
 I doubt me, when he comes but somethuig near, 
 I shall set wide the window : what care I 
 Who doth see me, so him I may see clear ? 
 Thus doth false joy delude her wi-ongfully 
 (Sweet lady !) iii the thing she lield so dear ; 
 For nearer come, she finds she had mistook, 
 And him she mark'd was Henry Bolingbroke." 
 
 As the eye of the youthful wife turns from the proudly 
 mounted-usurper to the meek and deposed sovereign, on the 
 sorry jade, a little apart ; — 
 
 " ' Wliat might he be,' she said, ' that thus alone 
 Hides pensive in the universal joy ? 
 Oh yes, 'tis he ! That princely face dolli bring 
 The evidence of majesty to prove.' " 
 
 One circumstance connected with the deposition of Eichard 
 deserves to be mentioned. Although he " voluntarily re- 
 signed," and read his act of resignation with a " complacent 
 countenance," it was deemed expedient that he should be 
 solemnly deposed by an act of the Estates of the Eealm. 
 Richard read the act to aspiring Lancaster and a group of 
 his friends, in the Tower, at nine o'clock in the morning, on 
 St. Michael's day, 1399. The affair is described, in an old 
 Life of Eichard, " by a Person of Quality," as being of an 
 exceedingly merry cast, as if it Avere a very excellent joke. 
 Bolingbroke even suggested that Eichard should not trou- 
 ble liimself to read the act, but spare his voice, and have it
 
 DEPOSED KINGS OF ENGLAND. 91 
 
 read by deputy. The King not only would not hear of this, 
 but he read the act through, as if he approved highly of what 
 he was reading ; and having expressed a wish that his cousiu, 
 to whom he gave his signet-ring, might reign in his stead, 
 the company separated on the most amicable terms ! 
 
 However this may be, it is certain that in Parliament, on 
 the followang day, the august assembly of legislators and 
 representatives of the people were solemnly asked if they 
 would accept this act of renunciation on the part of Eichard. 
 The Estates of the Realm, thus appealed to, and having 
 heard the thirty-three "articles of objections " cited against 
 Richard, pronounced that the King was justified in resigning ; 
 but that the Estates of the Realm, "for greater security," 
 would pass against him a degree of deposition, which was 
 done accordingly, Bolingbroke thereupon claimed tlie crown 
 by right of his descent from Henry III. The power of the 
 Parliament, however, is again made manifest by the fact that 
 " the said Estates with the whole people" rather elected him 
 King than recognized his claim ; and indeed he boasted the 
 double title of election by the Estates, as well as that held 
 by him by his own inherent right. Henry W, had scarcely; ' 
 taken possession of the throne, by the side of which he had 
 been hitherto standing, when the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 as loyally eager to greet him as the Bishop of Hereford had 
 been to hail the downfall of Edward II., arose and preached 
 an extremely brief, but a remarkably pointed sermon, from 
 1 Sam. ix. 17, " Vm dominaUtur populo'' — "A Man shall 
 rule over my people." The text was corrupted, but the ap- 
 plication of this discourse — quite as shallow as it was short 
 — was of course to the eifect that Richard had been a sorry 
 child, and that Henry was, to use a modern illustration, the 
 right man in the right place. 
 
 Whether Richard perished by famine or the sword, in 
 " bloody Pontefract," there was a report subsequently raised 
 by Sir John Oldcastle that he had not so died, but that he had
 
 92 MONARCHS IIETITIED FBOM BUSTTTESS. 
 
 been transferred to some Scottish monasterj^, where he long 
 survived, in the character of a monk. Walsingham however 
 describes not merely the death, but the burial at Langley, 
 with so much distinctness, and with such an amusing piece 
 of sarcasm on the gastronomic ecclesiastics of the day, that 
 the romantic story may be dismissed. Speaking of the 
 funeral, he says, " Confestim corpus reportare jubetiir ad 
 Langley, tumularium in ecclesia Fratrum Prspdicatorum, 
 perfeceruntque ibidem supremum officium Episcopus Cas- 
 trensis. Abbas Sancti Albani, et Abbas de Waltham, sine 
 magnatum prsesentia, sine popular! turba, nee erat qui eos 
 invitaret ad prandium post laborem :" — Forthwith his body 
 was conveyed by order to Langley, to be buried in the church 
 of the Preaching Brothers. The "Bishop of Chester, the Ab- 
 bot of St. Albans, and the Abbot of Waltham performed 
 the last duties : there was no attendance of nobles, nor any 
 crowd of people. There was not even any one there to invite 
 them to dinner after their labour had been concluded." 
 
 Popular affection or caprice loves to keep alive the sove- 
 reigns who have mysteriously disappeared. It was so vdth the 
 fabulous Arthur ; with Harold, when it was known that there 
 was difficulty in discovering the body. Such too was the 
 case (as shown above) with llichard II. " Which way so- 
 ever he came by his end," says " A Person of Qualitv," in 
 1681, " King Henry, it seems, was willing to let all the world 
 know he was dead ; for his body, embalmed and covered with 
 lead, all save the face, was brought to London, where for 
 three days together it was exposed at Paul's to public 
 view, and then buried in the church of Predicant Fi'iars 
 at Langley in Buckinghamshire, but afterwards by King 
 Henry removed to Westminster, and there honourably en- 
 tombed. Yet some Scottish historians affirm that he es- 
 caped out of prison, and led a solitary and virtuous life 
 in that kingdom for divers years, and lies buried (as they 
 say) in the Black Friars at Stirling. So different is the
 
 DEPOSED KINGS OE ENGLAND. 93 
 
 report of fame touching this unhappy Prince's exit out of 
 the world, who lived therein about thirty-three years, and 
 reigned twenty-two years and three months." 
 
 Weaver, when sjjeaking of the removal of the remains of 
 the deposed King, says, that all was done " with great 
 honour, in a chaire royale, himself (Henry) and his no- 
 bility attending the sacred relics of the anointed King, 
 which he solemnly here interred [at Westminster] among 
 his ancestors, and founded perpetually, one day every week, 
 a dirge, with nine lessons and a morning Mass, to be cele- 
 brated for the soul of the late King Richard ; and on each of 
 these days, six shillings and eight pence to be given to the 
 poor people ; and once every year, on the same day of his 
 anniversary, twenty pounds in pence to be distributed to the 
 most needful." He made for him a glorious tomb, and this 
 glozing epitaph, deciphering the lineaments of his body and 
 qualities of his mind, which, to any who knew upon what 
 points he was put ou.t of majesty and state, may seem 
 strange, if not ridiculous : — 
 
 " Prudens et mundus, Richardus jure secundus, 
 Per fatum victus, jacet hie sub marmore pictus. 
 Yerax sermone, prudens fuit et ratione, 
 Corpore procerus, prudens fuit ut Homerus, 
 Ecclesise faxit, elatus suppeditavit. 
 Quemvis prostravit regalia qui violavit ; 
 Obruit hsereticos, et eorum stravit amicos. 
 O clemens Christe, tibi devotus fuit iste, 
 Votis Baptiste, salves quern protulit iste. 
 
 Hie jacet imniiti consumptus morte Richardus, 
 Fuisse felicem, miserrimum." 
 
 Never had miu'dered man such testimonial rendered to 
 his virtues by those who profited by his murder, as Eichard 
 had in the epitaph set over him by Henry. Every line 
 praising the dead, condemns the living monarch. Unfortu- 
 nately, too, the testimony thus rendered is not altogether 
 true. Weaver remarks that " Tabian, who translated this
 
 94 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS, 
 
 epitaph iuto English, desirous, as it seems, to extenuate the 
 force of such palpable, gross flattery, annexeth this stanza : — 
 
 " But yet, alas ! although this metre or rhyme 
 Thus cloth embeUish this noble Prince's fame, 
 And that somid clerk wliich favoiu-ed him sometime 
 List by his cumimg thus to enhance his fame, 
 Yet by liis story appeareth ui him some blame : 
 Wlierefore to Princes is surest memory, 
 Then" lives to exercise in virtuous constancy." 
 
 Hardingtoo has shown, in rough rhymes, that the clergy and 
 laity in ilichard's household were men of ill-regulated lives ; 
 and where such is the case in a household, it is very certain 
 that the cause may be partly found in the evil example set 
 by the master. A better memorial of the deposed Eichard 
 was set up in the Abbey Church of Westminster, " That 
 beautiful picture of a King, sighing, crowned in a chair of 
 estate, at the upper end of the quire in this church, is said 
 to be of him, which witnesseth how goodly a creature he 
 was in outward lineaments." And this was the end of tin? 
 eighth and last monarch of the House of Plantagenet ; a 
 House which furnished England with a greater number of 
 Kings than any House that has reigned since the Con- 
 quest ; and among whom may be found the most glorious, 
 the most worthless, and the most unhappy of English mon- 
 archs. 
 
 During threescore years and two, from 1399 to 1461, the 
 three Henrys who formed " the House of Lancaster " ruled 
 in England. The House rose and fell by rebellion. The 
 mental incapacity of Henry VI. ; his illnesses, recoveries, and 
 relapses ; his struggles against Tork and the Yorkists ; his 
 triumphs and reverses ; his imprisonments and releases ; and 
 the fatal day at Barnet, which sent Henry to the Tower, and 
 ultimately led to his assassination,— are subjects familiar to 
 every reader. 
 
 Even in the dispute which transferred the crown from Lan-
 
 ■ DEPOSED KINGS OF EiyGLAKD. 95 
 
 caster to York, great respect was expressed for tlie law, and 
 gi-eat regard liad for the will of the people. When tlie Duke 
 of York, after the affair at Coventry, in 1460, held Henry 
 a prisoner, he went up to Westminster, passed through the 
 Hall into the House of Parliament, and stood there in pre- 
 sence of the assembly, with his hand upon the throne. He 
 expected that the Estates of the Eealm would have invited 
 him to be seated ; and he was angry when, amid the profound 
 silence, the Archbishop of Canterbury asked him if he would 
 not visit the King, who was in another apartment. " I 
 know no one in this realm," said the Duke, " who ought not 
 rather to visit me." And therewith he strode out of the 
 Chamber of Parliament, and took up his quarters in the part 
 of the palace reserved for the reigning monarch. 
 
 York was obliged to petition Parhament to examine his 
 claim. The Lords heard his suit, and then appealed to the 
 judges of the land. Grrave debates ensued, and learned 
 counsellors were heard. After all, a comjjromise was effected, 
 by which it was agreed that Henry should retain the crown 
 for life, but that at his death it should revert to the Duke. 
 On the first opportimity, however, Henry, in a moment of 
 temporary freedom, announced that this award had been ex- 
 torted from him by violence. Biit Edward, sou of the late 
 Duke of York who had been recently slain at Wakefield, 
 obtained possession of the capital, in 1461. There was no 
 obstacle to his taking possession of the throne ; but he pre- 
 ferred owing his crown to the award of popidar authority." 
 He ordered a review of four thousand men to be held in the 
 fields near Westmiaster. At this spectacle, Neville, Bishop 
 of Exeter, entered among the throng of citizens, and ha- 
 rangued them on the just title and ability of Edward, son of 
 Richard of York. The prelate vehemently denoimced the 
 incapacity, the unfounded claim, and the treachery of Henry. 
 The exulting crowds hailed Edward, King. Strengthened by 
 this exhibition of popular feeling, Edward assumed the title
 
 96 MONAECIIS EETIRED FROM BUSIfTESS. 
 
 but he took care to go down to the Parliament, where, from 
 the throue, he explaiued how he had hereditary right to that 
 crown Avhich had been awarded him by the voice of the peo- 
 ple. The Parliament oifered no opposition. Still, Edward 
 was not yet content. He now entered the Abbey Church, 
 and to those assembled therein he repeated the enumera- 
 tion of his claims ; and was recompensed for his apparent 
 deference to law and the popiolar wiU, by the recognition 
 made of him, in the cry, "Long live King Edward!" A 
 ten years' struggle, however, ensued, with infinite variety of 
 fortune, before the hapless murder of Hemy left the York- 
 ists without an adversary. 
 
 The House of Tork held dominion over England only two 
 years more than that of Lancaster, from 1461 to 1485, and, 
 like the rival race, consisted of only three Kings. The only 
 English monarch who suffered forfeiture of sovereignty and 
 life, withovit any guilt or even blame attaching to himself, 
 was of this family — the young and hapless Edward V. His 
 murderer, when he fell at Bosworth, made way for the line 
 of Tudors, which lasted during one hundred and eighteen 
 years, gave five Sovereigns to England, and, having died out 
 without its course having been marked by the calamity of 
 abdication or deposition, was followed by the Sovereigns of 
 the ancient House of Stuart. This was in England, as it 
 had been elsewhere, the least dignified and the most unlucky 
 of sovereign races. From the accession of James, in 1603, 
 to the deatli of Anne, in 1714, we have a period of a hun- 
 dred and eleven years ; but this, of course, does not properly 
 describe the length of Stuart rule ; we must deduct the 
 years of the Parliament, the Cromwells, the brief Military 
 Government which preceded the Restoration, and the period 
 during which "William III. reigned alone. 
 
 " Milton's organ pealed applause sublime " on the work 
 which, ill the person of Charles I., showed " discrowned mis- 
 fortune trampled in the dust ;" and then —
 
 DEPOSED KINGS OF ENGLAND. 97 
 
 " Tongue-saintly Cromwell in his stalwart clutch 
 Seizes the sceptre, knocks the gilding off, 
 And makes it homely as a grandam's crutch ; 
 But woe to the malignants, if they scoff 
 At him who wields it !" 
 
 His heir could not wield it in like fashion ; but neither 
 was he in like circumstances ; on this subject however no- 
 thing need be said. Nevertheless, considering that Kichard 
 Cromwell was Lord Protector during eight months, and 
 that he survived his deposition above half a century, some 
 account of him in his private condition may be allowed, per- 
 haps, to pass without challenge. Between the Parliament 
 and the army, he illustrated a very popular proverb, and 
 lost the support of both. He was pushed almost as unre- 
 sistingly into privacy as any Saxon King in the olden time 
 He had no faith in his cause, nor confidence in himself, noi 
 reliance on those around him ; and his unceremonious ejec- 
 tion from power was a natural consequence where such pre- 
 mises existed. If they who ejected him had paid his father's 
 debts as well as his own, they would have made him a richer, 
 but not a much happier man. They would have added some 
 dignity to his retirement, but, as it was, he had enough for 
 enjoyment, — such enjoyment as he could find in the pursuits 
 he most cared for — tliose of a country gentleman and boon 
 companion. These pursuits however were not always prac- 
 ticable. From May 1559 to the middle of 1660 be lived at 
 Hursley, in some fear of creditors, whom even now he could 
 not satisfy, and in some doubt as to what his fortune might 
 be if Charles II. were recalled ; he then retired to Paris, 
 where he lived in obscurity, and under the fictitious name of 
 Wallis. Twice he visited Geneva, and on one of these oc- 
 casions he was spoken of, to his face, by the Prince de Conti, 
 who received him under his assumed name, as "coxcomb," 
 "rascal," "coward," "base feUow," "fool," and "sot." 
 About twenty years after " Mr. Wallis " first buried him- 
 TOL. I. r
 
 98 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 self in obscure lodgings in Paris, a Mr. Eichard Clarke 
 settled at Cbesliunt. It was by tbis name tbat Eicbard 
 Cromwell, no longer in fear of ci-editors, cbose to be known. 
 He was a bearty cburcb- and conventicle-going, bunting, 
 joyous gentleman ; loving good wine a little, and fair ladies 
 more. He was cboice in tbe selection of bis company, sel- 
 dom referred to bis past greatness, and was never sarcastic, 
 save wben be alluded to tbe addresses of tbe people of Eng- 
 land, wbo, on bis being proclaimed Protector, laid tbeir lives 
 and fortunes at bis feet. 
 
 Tbere was a toucb of King Lear in tbe old man's destiny, 
 after all. His daugbters opposed bis baving life-possession 
 of an estate left bim by bis son, on account of mental de- 
 bility. Queen Anne was tben reigning, and old Mr. Clarke 
 came up to town, appeared personally in Court, wbere bis 
 suit was carried on, and was not only courteously treated 
 by tbe Judge, but was requested by bim to remain covered 
 during tbe proceedings. It was at tbis period tbat be 
 strolled into tbe House of Lords. A stranger present asked 
 tbe country gentleman if be bad ever been in tbe place be- 
 fore ; a small remnant of venial pride prompted tbe answer, 
 as be pointed to tbe tbrone, " Never since I sat in tbat 
 cbair." He won bis suit, was reconciled to bis daugbters, 
 and in 1712, being tben in bis eiglity-sixtb year, be died at 
 Chesbunt, in the bouse of Sergeant Pengelly, wbo was said 
 to be his son, and wbo became a Chief Baron of tbe Ex- 
 chequer. His enemies ridiculed bim under tbe names of 
 " Tumble-down-Dick " and " Queen Eichard ;" but even iliey 
 could not deny tbat he was au bouester man than be for 
 whom Richard was compelled to make room. It was tbe 
 return of the Stuart Prince, and the raising of tbe brazen 
 figure of Charles I. at Charing Cross, tbat inspired versatile 
 "Waller with tlie lines, — 
 
 " Ecbcllion, tliough successful, is but vain, 
 And Kings so kill'd rise conquerors again."
 
 DISPOSED KINGS OF ENGLAND. 99 
 
 James II. is the only King of England, since tlie Con- 
 quest, who died in exile. The principles of the government 
 of the Stuarts naturally led to that result. The pacific go- 
 vernment of James I. gave the people breathing-time for 
 the preparation of their struggle against a monarchy which 
 would have held the people as tightly as their rude ances- 
 tors had been held in the grasp of the Normans. Of the 
 ten great battles fought between the people and the army 
 of Charles I., three only were triumphs for the Royalists, 
 namely Chalgrave, Strattou, and Eoundway Down. The 
 drawn, or indecisive, battles were those at Edge Hill, at 
 Lansdowne, and the first battle at Newbury. In the second 
 battle, at the last place, night alone saved the Eoyalists 
 from total defeat. The great and undoubted triumphs of 
 the popular and Parliament army were also three in num- 
 ber, — Marston Moor, Naseby, and the battle fought in 1646, 
 at Stow-on-the-Wold, where final ruin fell on the resisting 
 power of the Royalists. Charles I. did not suffer till 1649, 
 but his death followed promptly on his "legal" deposition, 
 and even before tliis was it the popular cry that the Parlia- 
 ment, in its turn, had committed all the crimes with which 
 it had charged the King. 
 
 Charles II. lived some years deprived of a crown, but he 
 does not enter into the category of " retired monarchs." 
 He died in unworthy possession of the throne, and was 
 quietly succeeded by his brother James II. 
 
 James was not even cunning in Ms tyranny. He braved 
 the law from the beginning, went openly to Mass, provoked 
 the rebellions of Argyle and Monmouth, took bloody re- 
 venge by the hands of Kirk and Jeffreys, and crowned his 
 infamy by claiming a right to dispense with the Acts of 
 Parliament, and to rule in direct opposition to the statutes 
 and constitution of the realm. Under a hypocritical affec- 
 tation of regard for religious liberty, he attempted to place 
 Popery in a position to crush Protestantism. The union of 
 
 f2
 
 100 MONABCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Wliigs, Tories, and Dissenters frustrated this attempt ; and 
 tlie successful invasion of William of Orange drove him into 
 an inglorious exile in France. 
 
 The maxim which James thought good for the regulation 
 of the people, with regard to their connection with royalty, 
 was the one laid down in "Euphues his England," but it 
 was one which the people did not sanction ; nor was it likely 
 they would, since it was to this effect : " This should be the 
 order, to understand there is a King, but what he doth is 
 for the Gods to examine (whose ordinance he is), not for 
 men, whose overseer he is." People and King could not 
 agree with respect to this maxim, aud accordingly James 
 was driven to seek an asylum within the dominions of a 
 monarch who fancied he had bound his subjects, and their 
 posterity for ever, to be governed by a maxim similar in 
 principle. We shall see how James bore his diminished 
 state in the majestic yet melancholy chateau of St. Ger- 
 mains. In spite of all that has been said by, for, and of 
 James, he is the last man of whom it could have been sung, 
 as Phineas Fletcher sang of his " Shepherd," 
 
 " Less lie coxild like, if less his God had sent him."
 
 101 
 
 JAMES THE SECOND AT ST. GERMAINS. 
 
 " Better to be bom a peasant, 
 Than to live an exiled king ; 
 
 Suppliant-Kke, for alms depending 
 
 On a false and foreign court ; 
 Jostled by the flouting nobles, 
 
 Half their pity, half then" sport. 
 Forced to hold a place in pageant, 
 
 Like a royal prize of war. 
 Walking, with dejected features, 
 
 Close behind his victor's car : 
 Styled an equal, deemed a servant, 
 
 Fed with hopes of future gain, — 
 Worse by far is fancied freedom 
 
 Than the captive's clankuig chain." 
 
 PeOFESSOE ATTOTJlf. 
 
 Assuming that tlie story of the reign of James is fuUy 
 known to even^ reader, aud that all are more thoroughly 
 acquainted with the details of his flight than with those of 
 his daily life which followed his flight, — the struggle to re- 
 cover, and the ultimate downfall of his fortunes, — the fol- 
 lowing pages will be devoted to the story of his residence 
 abroad. It wiU be remembered that James did not arrive 
 in France until after his consort and the heir-apparent. 
 
 The first meeting of James with Louis XIV. was in part 
 touching, partly humiliating (in the conduct of the ex-King), 
 and in some degree farcical. The French monarch had al- 
 ready received the fugitive Queen and Prince of Wales, with 
 lavish hospitality and delicate gallantry. It was six o'clock
 
 102 MONABCHS EETIRED TROM BUSINESS. 
 
 on a dark and cold evening in January, 1689, when Louis 
 was sitting at the bedside of the Queen of England, con- 
 versing with her Majesty as she lay in bed. Announcement 
 was made that King James had just arrived. Louis imme- 
 diately rose and went to the Salle des Gardes, followed by a 
 brilliant court, to offer a welcome to the crownless King, 
 As soon as James had reached the summit of the staircase, 
 and saw Louis before him in the apartment above-named, he 
 began to stoop, approached his host in a crouching position, 
 and by the time he reached Louis, James was bent so low 
 that the French King found himself in considerable dif- 
 ficulty. He was bound by etiquette, and led by inclination, 
 to embrace the fugitive monarch. To do this he was obliged 
 to descend to his level. Bowing himself therefore, he stooped 
 as low as the new-comer, and in that posture the two re- 
 peatedly kissed each other and murmured words of welcome 
 or acknowledgment. This scene is described as lasting 
 "the space of a, pater noster" 
 
 Louis, then taking the left of James, conducted him to the 
 chamber of the ex-Queen, saying, as he entered, " Madam, I 
 bring to you a gentleman with whom you are acquainted." 
 James warmly embraced his wife in pi-esence of the whole 
 coiu"t. Subsequently Louis led his guest to the apartment 
 of the Prince of Wales, and then back to the side of the 
 Queen's bed. Here he took leave, and James was about to 
 accompany his host to the door, when Louis said, " Sir, I 
 fancy that neither you nor I know mvich of the prescribed 
 ceremonial for these occasions, — the occasions themselves 
 occurring but rarely ; and therefore I think we shall both 
 do well to set aside all ceremony and its embarrassments. 
 At the present moment I am here ' at home' in my own 
 house. You will come and see me tomorrow also in my own 
 house at Versailles ; of which I will do the honours. After 
 tomorrow, I will come and visit you here ; you will then be 
 in your house, and you shall then act as you please."
 
 JAMES IT. AT ST. GEEHAIIs'S. 103 
 
 James was already so well pleased as to wear a ga}^ and 
 laiighiug air ; and the jDreseDce with him of two of his natural 
 children did not moderate the excessive joy of the Queen. The 
 asylum they had fomid was a splendid one, as regards posi- 
 tion, furniture, guards, and attendants. A news-letter, 
 quoted by Dr. Lingard, speaks eulogistically of these matters, 
 and especially of the completeness of what M'as intended 
 for the "toilet" of the Queen. Fifty thousand crowns a 
 month was the largesse awarded by the munificent Louis, 
 to console and support the fallen majesty of England. 
 
 James survived the loss of his three croAvns thirteen years, 
 from 1688 to 1701. During nine years of that period he 
 was not without occasional prospect of recovering his power ; 
 how he feebly fought and warmly prayed for such a consum- 
 mation, is familiar to every reader. It was not till the Peace 
 of Ryswick was concluded between France and England, in 
 1697, that, if he did not surrender all hope, he certainly lost 
 aU chance of a restoration. He bore the announcement of 
 a Peace, which condemned him to perpetual exile, with the 
 greater dignity that it did not take him by surprise. " The 
 King arrived at Fontainebleau the very day tliat the news 
 of the Peace of Eyswick came. The King, having long 
 foreseen the blow, was the less surprised, and, so far from 
 bursting out into expostulations and complaints, that, for- 
 getting himself, he seemed only to compassionate his Most 
 Christian Majesty, as if he had been the great and only suf- 
 i'erer on the point." 
 
 It is especially from this period that James may be con- 
 sidered as entirely sceptreless, for his great ally, Louis XIY.. 
 had made terms with the Prince of Orange. William III. 
 indeed had been ungenerous enough to insist that James 
 should be expelled from his asylum at St. Germains. Beu- 
 tinck had urged the point on Boufflers, and the latter, who 
 had promised secretly to remove the ex- King, denied his 
 promise when pressed to fulfil it. Louis, more generous
 
 104 MONAECIIS KETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 than William, would not violate the law of hospitality. He 
 declared, while the terms of the treaty of Ryswick were being 
 discussed, that " if the Prince of Orange stood upon that 
 article, he would banish all thoughts of treating with him." 
 William promised that, if the King was removed, the Queen's 
 jointure should be made over to her; but "the Most Christian 
 King chose rather to leave that money in his hands, than 
 exasperate him by demanding it, according to agreement." 
 
 The private life of James, in the old palace of St. Ger- 
 mains, was one of melancholy dignity. It could not be ex- 
 actly said of him, as of Parnell's 'Hermit,' — 
 
 " Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise." 
 
 He looked like a man bereaved, but not like a man who was 
 without consolation. He had acted like an unreasoning 
 tyrant when power, or the hope of power, was before him ; 
 but his acts and arguments were marked by reason, and 
 were worthy of respect, as soon as power had definitively 
 left him, and he was not much more than the " Mr. Harri- 
 son," — one of the many names which served to designate 
 James II. to the followers with whom he or his Ministers 
 privately corresponded. 
 
 Some time before Louis had made peace with William, 
 James had prepared for the destiny which was inevitable, 
 although he did his best to avoid it. He corresponded with 
 De Kance, the prior of the abbey of LaTrappe ; and sometimes 
 withdrew into religious retirement within those walls, where he 
 reasoned more correctly upon what he saw there than one 
 would have expected from a man who was certaiuly not free 
 from bigotry. He reasonably remarked, that all Christians 
 were as much bound to aim at perfection as the monks of 
 La Trappe themselves. To take shelter with tliem awhile 
 he tliought a good thing in itself, but a man might work 
 out salvation without ever seeing them, provided he pos- 
 sessed the grace of God, and knew how to profit by the
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAINS. 105 
 
 possession. If they are famous for the government of the 
 tongue and the eye, for their abstinence and industry, these 
 were matters by the obsen'ation of which every one might 
 profit, without being a Trappist. The latter was but a bro- 
 ther Christian, and there were Cliristian maxims which con- 
 cerned all alike. He had always been ready with his pen. 
 The religious papers which he drew up with his own hand, 
 even before he came to the throne, and his letters to his 
 son, the Duke of Berwick, are so abounding in expres- 
 sions of good sense, that we can only wonder how he who 
 gave utterance to them could profit so little by his intimate 
 convictions, and by the counsels which he could impart with 
 such eloquence to others. 
 
 The English public were kept singulai-ly unenlightened 
 by the newspapers, as to incidents in the daily life of him 
 whom they styled " the late King James ;" and yet the jour- 
 nalists were not nice as to the source from whence they de- 
 rived some of their intelligence. Thus we find it stated in 
 the ' Flying Post-Boy,' for Friday, June 7, 1695, that—" A 
 few days since the late Queen Mary's Coachman landed at 
 Dover, from Callise, who gives ari account that the Jacobite 
 interest decreases every day very much in the French Court ; 
 and that this unhappy Prince is often upbraided by the com- 
 mon people as the principal cause of tlie present war, and 
 the miserable consequences thereof." 
 
 The testimony of Sir David Nairne, with respect to the 
 private life of James II. after his dethronement, is that of 
 a servant who was attached to his master. It may be a little 
 partial, but it is trustworthy as far as it goes. It is that of 
 a partisan, when Sir David speaks of James as his sovereign, 
 for the old servant attests that he had always observed in that 
 monarch " a paternal affection for all his loyal subjects and 
 servants." With James, however, loyalty consisted not in 
 that fidelity which would stand between a master and dis- 
 honour, but in abject subjection. A righteous opposition was 
 treason. r 3
 
 106 MONAECHS EETIBED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Nairne was of the small household of the fallen King 
 during nearly the whole period between his fall and his 
 death. He had served him for many years previously, but 
 never more willingly than when he was least rewarded for 
 his sei'vice. He cites a pleasing instance of the charitable 
 feelings of the ex-monarch. "James," he says, "was very 
 charitable ; and as there were a great many of his poor, faith- 
 ful subjects at St. Germains, who had lost their fortunes to 
 follow him, he was touched with their condition, and re- 
 trenched as much as he could to assist them. He used to 
 call, from time to time, into his cabinet, some of those bash- 
 ful, indigent persons, of all ranks, to whom he distributed, 
 folded up in small pieces of paper, five, ten, fifteen, or twenty 
 pistoles, more or less, according to the merit, the quality, 
 and the exigency of each." Nairne might have added, that 
 the King, in addition to his pension, received a supply from 
 Louis, for this especial purpose. 
 
 James had been, all his life, a methodical man, and he was 
 never more so than at St. Germains. He rose, walked, 
 worked, prayed, plotted, feasted, and slept, by clock-regula- 
 tion. He had a "time" for every occupation, and gave the 
 most of that time to religious exercises. At morning and 
 at noon he heard a Mass ; and if the day was a festival, he 
 celebrated it by hearing a third, and by attending Vespers 
 and the elevation of the Host at the parish church, the 
 church of the Eecollets, or the chapel in the palace. In ad- 
 dition to this, in solemn seasons, like Lent and Advent, he 
 and his consort repaired thrice a week to hear a sermon 
 in their own private chapel. On the festival of the Holy 
 Trinity, this exiled pair might be seen following, on foot, 
 the procession of the Holy Sacrament, devoutly kneeling in 
 the street at every altar, or re2)osoir, at which the train of 
 priests and princes rested for awhile, to perform a brief 
 service, and repairing to the chief cliurch in tlie town to 
 hear Mass, at the conclusion of the processional ceremonies
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAINS. 107 
 
 in tlie towu. In short, the exiled pair were seldom absent 
 from any religious service, let the honr be what it might; and, 
 says Nairne, proud of their excess of zeal in this respect, 
 " when there was no established fund for saying Mass, they 
 ordered one to be said, which kept up a great deal of devo- 
 tion in the place, and edified every one." In leisure hours, 
 the ex- King's chief concern was for the conversion of such 
 of his servants, exiles like himself, who were members of the 
 Protestant church, and seemed inclined to remain so. For 
 these, it is said, he prayed; with them he conversed and 
 argued, and he made them presents of little tracts, as aids 
 to conversion. He constantly urged them to study these 
 controversial works ; and when he found that the result of 
 such study was to bring a lost sheep to what he considered 
 the true fold, he would walk aloug the terrace of St. Ger- 
 mains with as beaming an air as if he had recovered his 
 three kingdoms. 
 
 His outward bearing was exceedmgly dignified, and he 
 bore reverses with a patient humility. On one occasion, 
 after the defeat of his hopes at La Hogue, he visited a con- 
 vent, the sisters of which had previously put up fervent and 
 frequent prayers for his success. As he passed among them, 
 the Lady Superior took blame to herself and the community 
 that they had lacked zeal in their orisons, and that thence 
 came the great misfortune. James walked on without reply. 
 The ofiicious lady, fancying herself unheard, repeated her self- 
 accusations, and lamented that Heaven had not granted aU 
 that had been asked. The ex-King turned to her and gravely 
 observed, "Mother, I perfectly heard you when you first 
 spoke. If I did not answer, it was because I did not wish 
 to contradict you ; bvit you compel me to remark that I am 
 not of your opinion. Tou seem to me to fancy that what 
 you ask of God is better than what is done by Him. But 
 all that God does is well done ; and there is nothing done 
 well but what He does."
 
 108 MONABCHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Even among the religious professors by whom he was sur- 
 rounded, the uncrowned monarch found occasional flatterers. 
 Some of these compared him with St. Louis. He was shocked 
 at what seemed to him a profanation. " I may resemble 
 him," he said, " in my misfortunes ; but I am nothing like 
 him in my actions" — which was incontestably true. At his 
 toilet he contrived to edify his hearers by his religious max- 
 ims ; and he is even said to have declared to his confessor, 
 that if he had thought that the Prince of Orange was better 
 qualified than himself to advance the glory of God, he would 
 have voluntarily resigned the throne of the three kingdoms, 
 and would have been satisfied to live and die in oblivion. 
 His confessor, on the other hand, declared that he coixld not 
 have easily found a man, in the most religious country in 
 Christendom, more pure in intention, more virtuous in soul, 
 more exactly vigilant, or more delicately conscientious in 
 dealing with his own errors. His impatience and disappoint- 
 ment betrayed themselves however in his occasionally-ex- 
 pressed weariness of life. He was, after all, tired of the bur- 
 den he had been condemned to carry ; and he often brought 
 tears into the eyes of the Queen, who reproached him for 
 his eagerness to lay down his life, and bade him think of 
 his children. It was then that testy liuman nature would 
 break out in spite of self-discipline. "My children!" he 
 would say, " God will provide for them and for you. But 
 what am I but a poor, weak man, who can do nothing with- 
 out God, and with whom God wiU have nought to do ! He 
 can carry out His designs without me." 
 
 These venial outbreaks of impatience — sometimes indulged 
 in purposely, he said, that the Queen might accustom her- 
 self to the idea of his death,- — were followed by closer study 
 than usual of the ninth book of the treatise ' On the Love 
 of God,' by Francis de Sales. The works of this author 
 he read even oftener than he did the Scriptures. He founded 
 liis rule of life on the works of the '" Gentleman Saint,"
 
 JAMES II. AT SX. OERMAINS. 109 
 
 who shared with Thomas-a-Kempis, Granata, and Rodriguez 
 the highest esteem of the royal recluse. He submitted to 
 another sort of discipline also, which was not without seve- 
 rity. It is alluded to in the " Circular Letter from the Reli- 
 gious Convent of Chaillot." In this the pious author states : 
 " We have seen, smce his death, the iron chain and the ' dis- 
 cipline' he made use of; but he so carefully hid his mortifi- 
 cations, that the Queen did not find tliem out for a long time 
 after, having found them (chain and whip) by chance in a 
 closet which he had forgot to shut." 
 
 The chief amusements of the uncrowned pair consisted 
 in visits paid to convents and similiar religious communities, 
 at a moderate distance from St. Germains. These visits 
 were paid when some festival was celebrated ; and, the reli- 
 gious ceremony concluded, nothing pleased the King more 
 thoroughly than to assemble an audience about him in some 
 spacious hall of the establishment, and there recount to his 
 hearers the history of his life and conversion. The tale was 
 told frequently enough to vex the ears of those who were 
 repeatedly called to listen to it ; and perhaps some of those 
 who heard the old story smiled at the King's conclusion, 
 wherein he asserted, " I have lost nothing : I have been a 
 great sinner. Prosperity would have corrupted me : I should 
 have lived in disorder ; or, if I had not left ofi" sinning till 
 old-age had seized me, I should never have had time nor 
 opportunity for entering into myself, nor of making the 
 necessary Teflections on my wretched state and condition, 
 God in his mercy has afilicted me, and has given me time 
 and grace to think on my salvation. I have never desired, 
 on my own account, to be settled on my throne again." And 
 between thus talking, visiting convents, hearing famous 
 preachers, and indulging in the pleasures of the chase with 
 a grave delight which might have drawn a smile from St. 
 Hubert, he dragged through the days of his deposition with 
 the assertion, so often made as to excite suspicion of its
 
 110 MONAECHS EETIEED FHOM BUSIKESS. 
 
 sincerity, that those days were the happiest of his life. He 
 used to allege, as a proof that he had " little stomach for 
 greatness," that offer had been made to him to elect him 
 King of Poland, but that he had declined the crown prof- 
 fered to him, as willingly as he bore the loss of that of which 
 he had been deprived. 
 
 It is singular to find the most bigoted of the advocates of 
 James breaking out into praises of his toleration ; and this, 
 too, in the face of well-known facts. He left Colonel Canon, 
 who had rendered him invaluable service in Scotland, to starve, 
 because the colonel was too honest to turn Romanist against 
 his conviction. The Earl of Dunfermline died in poverty at 
 St. Germains, where Christian burial was refused to the re- 
 mains of that Protestant servant of the Catholic and un pro- 
 testing James. On one occasion the Protestant followers of 
 the latter were bold enough to petition that they might be 
 permitted to assemble in a room to celebrate their own form 
 of worship, and to have for their minister that approved sup- 
 porter of James, Grenville, who had lost the deanery of 
 Durham through his Jacobite ardour. Turner, the deprived 
 Bishop of Ely, sent letters from England, in advocacy of this 
 request. The urgency of the appeal moved James so far 
 that he ventured to discuss the question with his Queen ; but 
 Mary of Modena, with the logic of her party, submitted to 
 him that as his toleration of heresy in England had cost him 
 his English crown, the allowing it in Prance might be peril- 
 ous to the Prench one, under which he could alone find a 
 safe refuge. This reasoning, and the will of Louis, prevailed ; 
 and not only was the petition of the Protestant adherents of 
 James indignantly refused, but poor Grenville was driven 
 out of Prance by the persecuting jealousy of the dominant 
 priesthood. But that priesthood must have entertained more 
 respect for Grenville than for the Scottish Bishop Gordon, 
 who changed his church out of unmanly fear of lacking 
 bread. The fear itself was not unnatural, for Dr. Cockburu,
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GERITAINS. Ill 
 
 whose zealous Jacobitism had driven him to seek an asylum 
 at St. Germains, was driven from it because of his faithful- 
 ness to the Church in which he was born ; and being driven 
 forth from his asylum, he died a beggar, in Holland. 
 
 The unforgiving nature of James was manifested by his 
 conduct to " drunken Dick Talbot," the natural son of a 
 rather intemperate father, the Duke of Tyrconnel. Dick 
 commanded a French regiment. In his cups, he spoke of 
 James as a simpleton whom all England hated. The words 
 were reported to the ex- King and Queen, at whose urgent de- 
 mand Talbot was ruined, by being deprived of his regiment 
 and pension. Furthermore, he was cast into the Bastille. 
 Grreat influence was employed to procure the restoration of 
 the luckless fellow to his old office and income ; but Louis 
 invariably rephed, that he could not order this, save at the 
 application of James and his consort. These steadily re- 
 fused to make the request, although the King of France had 
 intimated that such, a petition would be most agreeable to 
 him. It was only with reluctance that they, after many 
 months, asked that Talbot might be set at liberty. When 
 this was done, Dick was compelled to repair to St. Ger- 
 mains, to thank their ex- Majesties for their condescending 
 benevolence ! They listened to the grateful expressions of 
 the man whom they had ruined, with the complacent air of 
 people who deserved the homage. 
 
 The Council of James consisted of five Eomau Catholics, 
 Brown, Innes, Sir Richard Naugle, Caryl, and Stafford. The 
 Protestant Jacobites expressed a desire that one of their 
 Church might sit with the other five. This was resented as 
 a disloyalty ; and some intrigues having followed, the object 
 of Avhich was to secure the amalgamation in the Council, 
 above noticed, they were summarily checked by the com- 
 mittal of Sir Edward Herbert, a lady, and a refugee Quaker 
 named Bromfield, to the Bastille ! 
 
 But the principal incidents during the exile of James, sub-
 
 112 MONAECHS EETIEED FKOM BUSINESS. 
 
 sequent to that Peace of Eyswick, whicli made shipwreck of 
 the Stuarts, deserve to be noticed in more regular order. The 
 account of them was eagerly listened to by the English public 
 of those days, as the details were communicated to them by 
 such of the journals as received from their Paris correspon- 
 dents, paragraphs and anecdotes touching " the late King 
 James." The ' Postman' for the first week in January, 1698, 
 has a paragraph which shows that while James was being 
 treated as King de jure, there was an acknowledgment, on 
 the part of the government of Prance, that AV^illiam was King 
 de facto. " The Paris Grazette " (says the ' Postman,' with 
 much confusion of pronouns) " speaks with a greater respect 
 than he had done before of his Majesty of Great Britain, 
 for they had hitherto given him the bare title of King, 
 whereas in the account the Gazetter gives now of the af- 
 fairs of England, he styles him Majesty, and speaks of him 
 with all the respect imaginable." James was no better 
 pleased to read this acknowledgment in French, than he was 
 to read in the English papers, in the beginning of 1698, the 
 announcement that " Count Tallard, Ambassador of Prance, 
 has taken the house of the Duke of Ormond, iii St. James's 
 Square, for three years, at the rate of £600 a year. His Ex- 
 cellency is suddenly expected, after the arrival of the Earl of 
 Portland in Prance." James, with all his resignation, sighed 
 at these proofs of his dethronement, and turned aside to wor- 
 ship, with more fervour than ever, the " Holy Sacrament." Tt 
 was a worship, indeed, on which the veriest French rabble 
 insisted ; and the Protestant Chaplain to the English Am- 
 bassador, the Earl of Portland, had a lesson imparted to him 
 in a matter touching tlie Chaplain of the Danish Embassy. 
 The reverend Dane saw the holy symbol descending the 
 street, and, to avoid kneeling to it, he ran into a shop. The 
 orthodox mob noticed tlie act, and the orthodox shopkeeper 
 thrust the poor chaplain out, to tlie mercy of the pious popu- 
 lace. Thev treated him with dreadful barbaritv, which was
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAI>-S. 113 
 
 poorly compensated for, on the complaint of the Ambas- 
 sador, by the imprisonment of the principal offenders. Com- 
 ments upon incidents like these, denoting Protestant irre- 
 verence, and discussions upon the spread of Quietism, which 
 seemed to denote a heresy even in France itself, served to 
 enliven the stately but solemn circle at St. Germains. These 
 were pleasanter topics at the dull fireside of the saloon in 
 the palace, than that of the splendid reception given to Wil- 
 liam's Ambassador, in every town between Calais and Paris. 
 Hitherto, also, James, who had sometimes coolly listened to 
 projects of conspiracy against the rival whom he pretended 
 not to envy, had simply dismissed the plotters, who lived in 
 a sort of protection at large. But now, Goodman, a cele- 
 brated Jacobite, ready for any evil deed, was imprisoned 
 in the Bastille, and other conspirators were expelled the 
 kingdom, " it being against the common interest and safety 
 of princes," says a news-writer, "to protect any such vil- 
 lains." These however were of the men to whom James 
 sometimes gave pistoles ; and we may fancy him inattentive 
 at Yespers, on hearing that his most eager partisans were 
 treated with so little ceremony. He was not better pleased 
 when the English Jacobites came hurrying in from Paris 
 and Versailles, speaking in disgust of Marechal Boufflers, 
 who had invented uidieard-of honours for the reception of 
 Portland by the Grand Monarque. Two Irish Jacobites, 
 officers to James, adopted a singular means of vengeance : 
 they took to the road, between St. Germains and Versailles, 
 and robbed the French aristocracy who had shown such 
 courtesv to the envoy of William of Orange. They were 
 however taken in the fact ; James could not but acknowledge 
 that they deserved to be punished, but he chafed none the 
 less at the honours paid to Bentinck, as he called Lord Port- 
 land ; and he could not understand why the very portrait of 
 William was exposed for sale in every picture-shop in Paris 
 and Versailles. He smiled probably as he read the epigrams
 
 114 MONAKCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS, 
 
 of the wits, who compared the enthusiasm for William now 
 with the ecstasy exhilaited not very long before, when the 
 report of his death was current in the French capital. He 
 had some consolation for the pain which he experienced at 
 the welcome of William's Ambassador, — who was even cor- 
 dially received in the convents, to which he paid complimen- 
 tary visits, — by the treatment inflicted on Dr. Wickart, the 
 chaplain of Lord Portland. Information was laid by a Ja- 
 cobite that the Doctor had. administered the Sacrament in 
 a private house. A zealous Commissary of Police imme- 
 diately arrested the Protestant chaplain, and subjected him 
 to a strict examination. Portland complained that such a 
 proceeding was a violation of the privileges of an ambassa- 
 dor. The Doctor was released, the informer was placed in 
 durance; and Father Saunders indulged in useless ejacu- 
 lations of wonder, in the presence of James, at the change 
 which had come upon the spirit of the protector of the 
 fugitive and rightful King of England. Neither fugitive 
 King nor his zealous confessor ever expected to hear that 
 the Lieutenant-General of Police actually waited on Lord 
 Portland, and offered ample apology for the wrong done to 
 King William, in the person of the falsely-accused Chaplain 
 of his Ambassador. 
 
 These were small but acute trials to the exiled King 
 James. Mary of Modena tried to forget them in visits to 
 the nuns at Chaillot ; but James had not energy enough 
 even to arouse himself to pay his accustomed visit to the 
 Monastery of La Trappe. He plied his "discipline" in- 
 stead, at St. Germains. He had more than enough to vex 
 him, for the best soldiers of his body-guard were now drafted 
 into the French King's own regiment, and the rest were set 
 adrift, to go withersoever they would. The call of the dis- 
 tressed on the pistoles of James was probably now heavier 
 than ever. That he seized readily on opportunities to show, 
 and perhaps to persuade himself, that he enjoyed as much
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GERMAIXS. 115 
 
 as ever tlie protection and alliance of Louis, is proved in 
 the fact that as soon as Portland left Paris for Chalons, on 
 temporary business, James hurried over to Louis, and spent 
 a whole day with him in the gardens of Marli. James had 
 hardly foimd time to boast of this well-spent day, when he 
 had to listen to the encomia passed on the splendid ban- 
 quet given by Portland, and honoured by the presence of 
 royalty. He and his Queen however were speedily made 
 happy again for a time. The gazettes for the month of 
 April announced their daily presence at the very gayest 
 of courts. But this happiness was a little dashed by the 
 private audiences given by Louis to Portland ; and James 
 was deprived even of his solitary pleasure of the chase, 
 while William's ambassador went wolf-hunting with the 
 Dauphin, in whose house he even occasionally slept, an 
 honoured guest, at Meudon. It is possible that the Stuart 
 King's remonstrances may have led to some coolness be- 
 tween him and his royal host, for in the spring of 1698 we 
 find — " 'Tis said that the late King James is shortly to un- 
 dertake a journey to another country, but we cannot exactly 
 learn where he is to go;" and later, it is added, "there is 
 some appearance that he will go and end his days in Italy ; 
 yet this is but a conjecture." It is evident that he was ill 
 at ease in such close vicinity with the ambassador of his 
 rival ; and it is expressly stated that the ministers of other 
 States were jealous of the distinguished honours rendered 
 to the envoy from England. Meanwhile there were dissen- 
 sions in King James's household, and Mr. Grosby, one of 
 his most zealous followers, was killed in a duel by Mr. Bol- 
 ger, late Aide-Major in James's own regiment of Guards. 
 Portland too was treated at Versailles more like a royal 
 principal than a diplomatic representative. James, if angry 
 at this, felt that for every bruise there was a balm. Count 
 Tallard, the ambassador of Louis in London, had dared to 
 affix a notice to the irench Protestant chapel in the Savoy
 
 116 MONAECHS RETIEED mOM BUSINESS. 
 
 announcing that facilities would be given to all of that re- 
 ligion who desired to be converted to Catholicism, for the 
 purpose of being permitted to reside in France. This pro- 
 ceeding, styled " impudent " in England, was only righteous 
 daring at St. Germains. But while Tallard was daring in 
 London, the honours paid to Portland at Versailles made 
 the orthodox tremble. The latter was not only a ftivoured 
 guest, he even accompanied his Majesty to his bed-cham- 
 ber, and witnessed the royal preparations for going to 
 rest. Nay, on one occasion he was even permitted to hold 
 the candle while the King read one or two papers after he 
 lay doMTi. Ordinarily it was only a prince that could be 
 trusted with such an office ; but now it was conferred upon 
 Portland, " and this is lookt upon at night," says Our Own 
 Correspondent of the ' Postman,' " as an honour as great as 
 to give the King his shirt at the Levy ;" which indeed may 
 be readily believed. 
 
 This honour was no sooner paid to Portland, when a re- 
 port was circulated that King James was about to retire to 
 Avignon. lie had indeed more than sufficient to try him 
 at St. Germains ; his disbanded Irish regiment, men and 
 officers, were hanging about his palace in a state of pitiable 
 destitution. They had no means of living, were not affi[)rded 
 any fiicilities for removing, were refused employment in 
 Prance, and were hopeless of procuring military engage- 
 ments elsewhere ; many of them had wives and children, 
 and the general misery of the faithful and unhappy band 
 found sympathy with all, but substantial relief from none. 
 They assuredly found no relief in the statement that the 
 consort of James was about to accompany her husband to 
 tlie shrine of Our Lady of Lorctto, in fulfilment of a vow 
 previously registered. The royal pair were "let blood" in 
 May ; the ex- King " because of some small indisposition, and 
 the other, because of a uephritick collick." The occasion 
 was deemed solemn enough to induce Louis to repair to St.
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAINS. 117 
 
 Germains, to inquire after their health. He was probably 
 tlie more welcome, as Portland was about to return to Lon- 
 don, leaving Prior as his Charge d' Affaires. The court of 
 the sick couple is spoken of in May as "lessening daily." 
 They recovered only to meet with new troubles ; they dined 
 in public, as befitted sovereigns, according to the ideas of 
 those times, but their very digestion was disturbed by their 
 wretched followers, who "are reduced very low, and become 
 burdensome and ungrateful to the people here." It is not 
 surprising that James looked longingly towards Italy, and 
 that the Duke of Berwick himself had some thoughts of 
 retiring into a convent. The natural son of James had in- 
 curred the anger of Louis XIV. " by some unhandsome 
 words relating to the Earl of Portland," and he was sent in 
 banishment to Alsace, as the penalty of his pertness. He 
 was not permitted to be present at a grand review held by 
 the King, in honour of the English Ambassador. This was 
 a wound to the vanity of James ; but Louis found salve for 
 it, — he held a second review, on the Plain of Archers, to 
 which the ex-King and Queen of England were especially 
 invited, with the "Prince of Wales." For this small grati- 
 fication James was exceedingly grateful ; and he paid a visit 
 of ceremony to the French King at Marli, a few days after- 
 wards, choosing a day when he was not likely to encounter 
 the detested Portland, and assuming as much importance as 
 if he were really King of England in possession. This visit 
 was followed by a permission to the Duke of Berwick to 
 appear again at Court. James was once more thankful 
 for very small mercies ; and he supped with the King at 
 Marli, not at all in the spirit of a man who had given up 
 the world, and deemed earthly distinction entirely valueless. 
 In justice to him, it should be added that misfortune had 
 not rendered him morose. At the review last mentioned, 
 he and the Queen suddenly met the son of Lord Portland ; 
 James did not visit on the latter the sins of his father. The
 
 118 MOSTARCIIS EETTEED FROM BrSINESS. 
 
 journalists remark that " the late King and Queen of Eng- 
 land, on their arrival, saluted him almost at the same time 
 as he did them." This was a graceful condescension on the 
 "part of those who looked on the Bentiucks and their master 
 as their worst enemies. They kept the birthday of the 
 " Prince of AVales" in Jime, at St. Grermains, with all the 
 more hilarity however when they knew that Portland was 
 fairly on his way to England. 
 
 James hated and dreaded the Ambassador. Portland 
 offended him by ordering his son not to speak to the " pre- 
 tended Prince of Wales ;" and James never heard of the 
 closetings of Louis and the English envoy without antici- 
 pating a removal, and inquiring about the cost of living at 
 Avignon. It was after one of these long interviews that the 
 Duke de la Eerte spread affright at St. Germains, by re- 
 porting that the royal tenants of the palace were about to 
 receive " a six months' notice from the landlord." 
 
 Other vexations, too, continued to annoy the cx-sovereign. 
 The dislianded troops, lately in his service, were fast fidling 
 into evil ways, and achieving a very undesirable reputation. 
 That some of them took to the road has been already men- 
 tioned. Tlie route between St. Germains and Paris was not 
 safe, because of them ; and they added murder to robbery 
 when they met with resistance. One Irish Jacobite trooper, 
 named Francis O'JSTeil, was broken alive upon the wheel, 
 for the double crime of plunder and assassination. Two 
 other ex-soldiers in James's service, Englishmen, lacked 
 nerve to take their chance against stout travellers on 
 the road ; but they practised the double profession above 
 named, in a quieter and more cowardly way. On pretence 
 of being ill, they sent for a physician, and when the latter 
 entered tlieir apartment, they fell upon, stabbed, and robbed 
 him. IMic law was stringently applied to these Jacobite 
 ruffians, whose desperate crimes testify at once to their own 
 utter destitution, and the fallen condition of their Sovereign.
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GERMAIKS. 119 
 
 James and his consort sought for such comfort as they could 
 find, under the disgrace brought upon them by their fol- 
 lowers, by frequent visit to convents, adoration of relics, 
 and constant attendance at sermons and the elevation of 
 the Host. These visits were of no avail : the town of St. 
 Germains became almost uninhabitable through the sangui- 
 nary violence of the Jacobite brigands. No sober citizen 
 dared venture abroad at night, even in the summer-time ; 
 and to what extent pillage and murder were carried by the 
 fierce and hungry partisans who had followed the standard 
 of James, may be seen in the fact that, on one and the same 
 day, five Irish soldiers were " broken alive," in St. Germains, 
 for the crime of robbery and assassination, by night, in the 
 town or its vicinity. James and his consort went now more 
 frequently to Court than ever ; and although nothing is said 
 of the nature of their business there, we may not unreason- 
 ably conjecture that it had something to do with the con- 
 dition and the consequent crimes of their followers, made 
 ferocious by starvation. Tliis affair however did not prevent 
 the royal recluses from being exceedingly gay, a few weeks 
 subsequently, at St. Cloud, where the christening of Made- 
 moiselle de Chartres was celebrated with much grandeur 
 and festivity. There were drives in the park, where the 
 exiled Queen rode with the great Louis, and James with 
 brilliant and fair-spoken princesses ; there was a grand ban- 
 quet, a " splendid collation of flesh and fruits for thirty-one 
 persons," at Avhich " the Dauphin and the Duchess of Bur- 
 gundy served at table ;" this was followed by a concert, and 
 the concert by a ball, from which, at daybreak, the weary 
 exiles returned to St. Germains, safe from molestation on 
 the road, — so many of their predatory partisans had, of late, 
 been broken, — and fatigued enough to feel doubly convinced, 
 at the end of a long series of entertainments which had oc- 
 cupied half a day and a whole night, that all was vanity and 
 vexation of spirit.
 
 120 MONABCHS EETIRED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 During the few quiet days that intervened between this 
 brilliant and wearisome festival and the gi'and field-days at 
 the camp at Compiegne, the circle at St. Germains was 
 startled to hear that the Duke of Monmouth was alive and 
 active in England. None knew better than James that 
 Monmouth had perished ; but the roport was so circum- 
 stantial as to excite, at least, interest. A pseudo-Duke 
 travelled through our southern and midland counties, with a 
 little Court, by whom he was styled " Tour Grace," and 
 treated with an infinite measure of respect. He was a 
 handsome fellow, and his good looks at once convinced the 
 women that he was the true Prince. His success was ex- 
 traordinary, and his exchequer increased hourly by the will- 
 ing contributions of the simple country-folk. The " Prince 
 for an Hour" was however soon entrapped, to the exceed- 
 ing grief of the ladies : he turned out to be the son of an 
 innkeeper named Savage, and was tried at Horsham, like a 
 common vagrant or swindler ! James, perhaps, would have 
 desired success to the pretended Duke, althougli he himself 
 had so sternly punished the genuine nobleman. He might 
 very reasonably too have smiled at the difficulty at which 
 the sapient Judges stumbled, after the impostor was con- 
 victed. They deferred giving sentence immediately, on the 
 ground that the crime was "of an odd nature." After all, 
 he was punished, as he deserved, like any other ordinary 
 vagabond. 
 
 During the fortnight in the first half of September, 1698, 
 which James spent amid the mud, rain, fires, sham siege, 
 the dinners, and the drinkings at Compiegne, his Queen 
 shut herself up with the nuns at Chaillot. This female 
 community was the most gossiping one in France, and Mary 
 of Modeua loved to pass a portion of her time with the 
 talkative sisters. AV^hen James arrived at the convent, on 
 his way from Compiegne, he brought with him an accept- 
 able budget of the article most prized at Chaillot, — fresh
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAINS. 121 
 
 gossip. The scene at Compiegne had been most splendid, 
 save when it was marred by the mud and dirt ; but the 
 satisfaction of the French Monarch had been considerably 
 alloyed by the conduct of the ambassadors from foreign 
 powers in Paris. They refused to attend at Compiegne, un- 
 less they had the honour of the ^^ pour." This serious un- 
 intelligibility is thus explained. When the harbingers fixed 
 the quarters for the King, Prince, and the ex-King of Eng- 
 land, they attached an inscription on the door, denoting 
 that such quarters were "2ioiir,'" ovfor, such and such great 
 personages. The quarters for all inferior individuals bore the 
 names only of the intended occapants, without the prelimi- 
 nary "for." The Ambassador of Savoy, for himself and di- 
 plomatic brethren, demanded equal honours with royalty ; 
 they insisted on the "for,''' on the groimd that representa- 
 tives should be treated with the distinction diie to tliose 
 whom they represented. It coidd not be conceded, and the 
 Ambassadors refrained from being present. Lord Jersey, 
 the new English Ambassador, had probably a double reason 
 for being absent, at least during the time that James occu- 
 pied quarters ostensibly assigned to him as " Eong James :" 
 the English Envoy recognized no such King, and James en- 
 joyed a triumph ia knowing one cause for the absence of 
 the Ambassador of "William. He, of course, added, in tell- 
 ing the story to the nuns, '• But, my sisters, every such tri- 
 umph is but vanity :" and he drove away, full of the pride 
 which he affected to renovmce. 
 
 Such pride was strong in him, notwithstanding all his as- 
 sertions. It was sorely wounded too, in the month of Oc- 
 tober, when he was invited with his consort to the honour 
 of attending in the King's closet at Yersailles, to sign the 
 marriage-contract between Mademoiselle d' Orleans and the 
 Duke de Lorraine. James and his Queen showed how they 
 appreciated the honour, by not failing to be present. Difh- 
 culties were raised however in the way of their signing the 
 
 VOL. I. q
 
 122 MONAECHS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS, 
 
 contract. These were founded on the particular position of 
 James, who would have signed as King of England, Ireland, 
 and Scotland, or not at all. The contract, accordingly, was 
 not submitted to him for his signature ; and there can be 
 little doubt that he felt, as he left the royal closet, not only 
 that all was vanity, but that there was no lack of bitterness 
 mingled with it. This disappointment did not affect his con- 
 duct, nor that of his consort, towards the bride, who was a 
 general favourite, and for whom James and Mary exhibited 
 much tender affection on the day of her marriage. Their feel- 
 ings were soon after more deeply affected by the death of Lord 
 Herbert, James's Chancellor. In France, however, consola- 
 tion was soon found for every calamity. AVhen Louis lost his 
 brother, he retii'ed to his room and played on the harpsi- 
 chord. Soon after James had lost his old friend, he went 
 hunting the stag with the Prince of Wales, in the forest of 
 St. Germains ; but then it was on St. Hubert's Day, and the 
 amusement was almost a religious observance. It served 
 too to distract his mind from anxieties which were besetting 
 him. AVUliam had been followed to Holland by the French 
 Ambassador in London and his own Envoy to Paris. James 
 knew that his own sojourn in France was one of the subjects 
 discussed by them. The subject is described in the journals 
 as " a certain point which makes some people at St. Ger- 
 maias yctj uneasy, for they are afraid to be obliged to leave 
 this kingdom, or else of being reduced to great straits and 
 difhculties." The difficidties of the poor Jacobites were 
 even more so ; but the Pope had more compassion for them 
 than the King of France. Early in January, 1699, his 
 Holiness sent 25,000 livres for the benefit of the destitute 
 English, Scotch, and Irish Catholics in France ; and to the 
 credit of the Holy Father it may be added, that this was 
 not his first contribution forwarded from Italy. 
 
 Intrigue was active this year. James was very frequently 
 at Versailles, where he was closeted with Louis ; and por-
 
 JAMES II, AT ST. GEEMAINS. 123 
 
 traits of the Prince of Wales, set in gold and diamonds, and 
 intended as presents to partisans, were seized at our Cus- 
 tom-house, on their transit from St. Germains to squires in 
 English mansions, and presidents of Jacobite clubs. James 
 too seemed to resume one of the du.ties of monarchy, by re- 
 ceiving a visit of ceremony paid by the Ambassador from 
 Morocco, to the Court of France. There was as much gra- 
 titude as ceremony in the visit, for in early days this envoy 
 had been captured by the English, and had been treated 
 with great humanity by the express order of James. The 
 swarthy legate came now to acknowledge this service, and 
 the acknowledgment was none the less warm because James 
 himself had fallen to such low estate. The representative 
 of Muley Ishmael presented his gifts of dates and furs, with 
 profound assurance of thankfulness ; and James received 
 them with as gracious a condescension as if he had been an 
 enthroned King. 
 
 That which ever lacked most at St. Germains was money. 
 A supply sent from Paris, however welcome, did not pre- 
 vent James from despatching his son, Berwick, to Rome, to 
 ask for more. Alexander declined the request ; and to a 
 petition from James, that he might be permitted to end his 
 days in Rome, where a residence would be less injurious to 
 the interests of the Prince of Wales than at St. Germains, 
 the Pontiff rather ciu-tly replied by an order to remain where 
 he was, as at St. Germains he wotdd have greater facilities 
 for recovering his throne, should opportunity be afforded 
 him by an expected rising, which the Holy Father affected 
 to foresee in England. 
 
 The pontifical advice, as well as the foresight, was well 
 grounded. The constant arrival of "persons of quality" 
 from Ireland gave a little life to the Court of St. Germains, 
 which was ordinarily dull, but which of late, by the daily 
 diminution of the courtiers, had been growing more than 
 ordinarily sombre. The road between St. Germains and 
 
 g2
 
 124 MONABCHS EETIRED i'KOM BUSINESS. 
 
 Versailles was now very frequently traversed by James ; but 
 nothing came of the movement, although the show of acti- 
 vity was so considerable as to excite some attention. Per- 
 haps it was to console James for some disappointment, that 
 Louis invited him to a festival at Marli. The great works 
 constructed tliere had been achieved by hundreds of soldiers, 
 and by beggars seized in the streets of the capital, and com- 
 pelled to what they most hated — hard labour. Many a poor 
 Jacobite earned his few sous and a modicum of bread by 
 toiling at the demolitions and constructions by which the 
 great King sought to give beauty and usefulness to a coun- 
 try seat. A great portion of the festival to which James 
 and his Queen were invited consisted in their inspecting 
 these works, and oifering abundant flattery to him at whose 
 command they had been accomplished. There was stately 
 dancing, and solemn feastiug afterwards, and the newspapers 
 of tlie time remark (as if late hours were not common with 
 the exiled Stuarts) that it was past midnight before they 
 arrived at the gates of St. Germains. 
 
 Did James lay this little excess to his conscience as a sin ? 
 It would be difiicult to answer this query ; yet we may find 
 some help towards an affirmative reply, in the fact that a 
 tshort time after he had thus " made a night of it" at Marli, 
 he withdrew into temporary retirement among the monks 
 in the convent of " Les Bons Hommes." The good men 
 however did not treat him with excess of hospitality. They 
 put him into a cell which had become damp from disuse, and 
 whicli a fire could not at once effectually warm. The con- 
 sequence was that the royal recluse became exceedingly ill, 
 and was for a long time so infirm that lie drank more of 
 asses' milk than of any other beverage, and di'aughts very 
 cautiously administered even of that. 
 
 De Eance, in spite of his so-called seclusion at La Trappe, 
 was a man who mixed very much in the world, and main- 
 tained a vast correspondence with great worldly people, and
 
 JAMES IT. AT ST. GERJIAINS. 125 
 
 had a very excellent cellar of wine at the monastery, for the 
 use of his visitors. In a letter to Mademoiselle de Harlay, a 
 nun of the monastery at Melun, he says, that in resignation 
 under affliction, James equalled the most heroic characters 
 of the ancient times of Christianity. He intimates that the 
 ex-King had no desire to recover his "three kingdoms:" 
 and he adds, that James, " unless he be obliged to spend 
 some time about necessary affairs, or in conversations which 
 he cannot dispense with, it may be said that all his employ- 
 ments carry him to God, and entertain him with the desire 
 and will of pleasing Him." Notwithstanding this excellent 
 testimonial to the private character of James, there is abun- 
 dant proof that he was not adverse to worldly pleasure, nor 
 unconcerned with regard to worldly prospects. His most 
 pleasant festivals were those caused by the arrival of Louis 
 and all his gay court at St. Grei'mains ; when the two Kings 
 and their courtiers. Queen and ladies, promenaded together 
 in the superb garden attached to the palace, or rode together 
 in monotonous magnificence up and down those forest- 
 drives which centre in the " circle of the nine stars." This 
 condition of James was in strong contrast with that of his 
 officers. The distress of these was too acute to be borne 
 with such resignation as that evinced by their master. The 
 law had put a stop to their brigandage on the highway, and 
 Jacobites no longer stopped travellers on the road, and made 
 them pray for King James. But those who were afraid to 
 rob were not ashamed to beg. The French were shocked 
 to see these gallant and faithful men standing at the corners 
 of streets and on the public roads, soliciting alms, with their 
 swords at their sides ! 
 
 James soon recovered from the illness last mentioned, to 
 attend, as before, to business and superstition. He heard 
 strange noises in the air ai'ound the palace at St. Grermains, 
 and wondered, perhaps, rather than ventured to foretell, what 
 they foreboded. He was constantly closeted with " Catholic
 
 126 MONAUCnS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Lords," who passed to and fro between England and France, 
 and was himself almost as constantly traversing the road 
 which lay between his own court and that of Versailles. The 
 little Prince of Wales meanwhile complimented the wealthier 
 officers of his father's guards by standing sponsor to their 
 children; The poorer gentlemen quarrelled or intrigued 
 among themselves, and were unceremoniously confined in 
 the Bastille, to keep them from overt treason, or till they 
 undertook to respect the King's peace. Occasionally there 
 was some embarrassment arising from James being in danger 
 of encountering the ambassadors of "William. Once the 
 Earl of Manchester was about entering the residence of the 
 Duke of Orleans, to make an ordinary visit. Some gentle- 
 man of the household hurriedly informed him that King 
 James was already within. At this information, Manchester 
 suddenly turned away, and walked about the court until he 
 saw the ex-King drive out of it, and then entered to pay hia 
 respects to the Duke. 
 
 Towards Michaelmas there were some of those extrava- 
 gantly splendid festivities held at Eontainebleau which were 
 sure to be followed by an increase of taxes on the people. 
 For weeks there was a continual revel, and an endless variety 
 of amusements. The great monarch was stage-manager of 
 all : and especial mention is made of certain comedies played 
 by noble amateurs, in which the ladies wore lower top-knots 
 than ordinary, in especial obedience to an order from his 
 Majesty, who began to have a destation for " Eontanges." 
 In all this dissipation James played a pai't, without omit- 
 ting due observances of his religious duties. The ex-Queen 
 too was there, but her health did not allow her to share very 
 largely in the splendid profligacy. James himself seems 
 to have thought it was a matter to be repented of — after en- 
 jovTnent ; and as soon as the joyous revel was over, he and 
 his Queen withdrew to the convent at Melun, whence, after 
 an expiatory seclusion, they returned, in October, to St. 
 Germains.
 
 JA3JES II. AT ST. GEEMAI>"S. 127 
 
 Here the secluded pair passed the last months of the year, 
 with failing health and fading hopes. They occasionally re- 
 paired to the convent at Chaillot, in order to pray for im- 
 provement in both respects ; but neither orisons nor coui't- 
 physicians could improve the sanitary condition of either of 
 the exiled sovereigns. James, with scarcely strength to sit 
 upright, and Mary Beatrice, with cancer developing itself in 
 her bosom, received, in solemn state, the stately solemn visits 
 made to them by princes of the blood and very serene high- 
 nesses. Amid much suffering, the ex-King never forgot 
 his own personal interests, or those of his family. The 
 eminently religious monarch had a very young illegitimate 
 daughter, who was at this time a nun in the convent at 
 Maubuisson. The lady-abbess of the royal abbey of Mont- 
 martre had recently died. James asked Louis to nominate 
 his cloistered daughter to the vacant post. Louis himself 
 thought the petition ill-timed, and the petitioner imperti- 
 nent. He coolly answered that the lady was too yoimg, but 
 that he would not forget her. " Let her stay at Maubuisson," 
 he said, " and when she is old enough, and opportunity offers, 
 we will make her lady-superior ; there she will be better off 
 for the delay." 
 
 The friends of the exiled King occasionally mingled with 
 noblemen belonging to the Court of William ; and, in the 
 day when gentlemen drank deep and wore sharp swords, 
 mischief often came of it. At one of these social meetings, 
 the Marquis of Tavistock proposed a toast, which was re- 
 solutely declined by Colonel Froude. A challenge to mortal 
 combat ensued, but Lord Manchester devised a method 
 to prevent any further iU-consequences. He invited the 
 antagonists to a banquet, and over the wine-cup the hot- 
 headed adversaries swore to everlasting friendship and a 
 divided allegiance. 
 
 The year 1700 opened painfully for James, in one respect : 
 he was covered mth boils ; but if he suffered like Job, he
 
 128 MONARCHS BETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 also had tlie patient resignation of the man of Uz. Besides 
 he found " distraction" in transacting business, the object 
 of which was his own restoration. He was frequently in his 
 cabinet with Boufflers ; and his whole Court, which now was 
 but a veiy small circle indeed, is described as " talking very 
 big," and indulging in very extravagant hopes, founded on 
 the issue of the famous Expedition to Darien. Moreover the 
 ex-Queen was said to be likeh^ to increase the number of 
 royal heirs to the inheritance which James hoped to recover ; 
 and altogether there was sunshine as well as shadow on the 
 terrace of St. Germains. 
 
 There was. indeed, little light to much shade; and the little 
 light only illuminated small joys. The excited Court found 
 some food for mirth in a trifle which had made the bosom of 
 the Grand Monarch heave with indignation. The son of the 
 court-apothecary, Bondin, was at a masked ball, at which 
 tlie Duchess of Burgundy was present. The apothecary's 
 son, concealed under his mask, passed for a marquis, and 
 was audacious enough to dance with a princess who was not 
 very remote from the throne. Louis was as enraged as if 
 there had been petit treason in the matter ; but, considering 
 the unrestrained character of the Duchess, it may bfe con- 
 cluded that she knew very well the quality of her partner, 
 At these Carnival balls, not only James and his Queen, but 
 the young Prince of Wales, were often present. At one of 
 these riotous assemblies, the crowd was so great that the 
 little Duke de Berri, son of the Dauphin, nearly lost his life, 
 in the pressure, by suffocation ; he was rescued, with diffi- 
 culty. The "pretended Prince of "Wales," as the son of 
 James is invariably called by the English papers of the pe- 
 riod, is described as being present at these foolish festivals, 
 " masked," to save him from being "tied to ceremonials." 
 He could not have had worse training for a throne, had he 
 lived in these times, and been conducted nightly to listen to 
 the light morals taught in highly-flavoured French plays.
 
 JAMES IT. AT ST. GEEMAIXS. 129 
 
 While this dancing was in progress, the ears of James 
 were deafened by solicitations from his starving, disbanded 
 soldiers. Their distress was appalling, and their master 
 petitioned in vain to Lonis to enrol one hundred of these 
 destitute and faithful men-at-arms in the French army. 
 When this petition was refused, an honest Captain of Gen- 
 darmes gave such unrestrained expression to the opinion 
 which he entertained of the conduct of Louis, whom he spoke 
 of as faithless to his promise, that his liberty of speech was 
 punished with the loss of his personal freedom, and the 
 cashiered Captain was flung into the Bastille. 
 
 James would have had sympathy with the bold speaker, 
 thus punished for his boldness, but that his sjTupathy and 
 attention were attracted in diiferent directions. Pope In- 
 nocent XII. had been so indisposed that James had de- 
 spatched a special messenger, with the Cardinals who had 
 proceeded from the French Court, to condole with the suf- 
 feriag Pontiff. The saintly legates asked the Holy Father 
 as to his condition, and Innocent, who knew that there were 
 two or three among them who were looking forward to pos- 
 sess the tiara, wittily answered, " I am much more rejoiced 
 to see you, gentlemen, than you are to see me !" The ponti- 
 fical wit was highly relished at St. Germains. 
 
 The exiled Court was laughing loudest at it when they 
 were most busy in furthei'ing the future interests of James's 
 son. It was in this year, 1700, that James issued a medal 
 in honour of his disinherited heir. It bore the device on 
 the exergue, " Cognoscunt mei me," My own shall Tcnow me. 
 On one side was seen the " sun behind a cloud," with the 
 inscription " Et lucet et latet," It hoth shines and lies hid. 
 On the reverse, the Prince was doubly represented ; first, as 
 a student, with the subsci-iption, " Litteris insignis," Cele- 
 hratedfor his learniny. The words " Et Armis," And for his 
 skill in iveapons, were inscribed beneath a smaller figure of 
 '.he Prince in the distance, where he was shooting at a wild 
 
 g3
 
 130 MONAECnS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 boar. His skill however would not be tlioiiglit very mucli 
 of now. His happiest day was highly boasted of, when he 
 made twenty-two good shots out of thirty-six; — but to 
 miss more than one shot out of three would not be con- 
 sidered a proof of extraordinary skill, in the present day ; 
 the Prince however was only twelve years old. Louis, it may 
 be added, gave some umbrage to James, by forbidding the 
 publication of this medal for sale. It was, however, exten- 
 sively circulated in private. 
 
 There was more comfort from Home than from Versailles. 
 The Pope, with the liberality of dying men who dispose of 
 property which really belongs to their heirs, sent 30,000 
 crowns for the use of James and of his most needy followers. 
 The money enabled the more-than-ever-diminished Court to 
 assume an air of gaiety. It gave some lustre to the mar- 
 riage of the poorly-endowed, illegitimate son of James — the 
 Duke of Berwick — with "Madame Balkley," maid of honour 
 to Mary Beatrice, who is spoken of as possessing "no fortune 
 at aU." In May and June there was ample evidence as to 
 how the Papal gift had been employed. In the former month, 
 the "Prince of Wales" went into Paris in some state. From 
 the archiepiscopal windows he witnessed the annual pro- 
 cession of the body of St. Marcel. After this spectacle, the 
 royal youth repaired to the cathedral, at the gates of which 
 he was received with great ceremony by the Archbishop, by 
 whom he was conducted to the high altar, near the foot of 
 which he "made his first communion." The solemnity was 
 followed by a banqviet, at which the prelate sumptuously 
 entertained the royal guest. The father of the guest was, 
 strangely enough, absent from the interesting ceremony. 
 While his son was receiving the Sacrament for the first 
 time, and graciously accepting the hosjjitality of the Arch- 
 bishop, James was shut up in the cell reserved for his use at 
 La Trappe, praying earnestly for himself and the young 
 neophyte.
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEBMAIIs^S. 131 
 
 There was a burst of unusual gaiety when father and son 
 met again at St. Germaius. In June the little Court ex- 
 hibited extraordinary brilliancy, in honour of the birthday 
 of the " heir-apparent." The whole household, all the mem- 
 bers of which had long been in a shabby condition, appeared 
 in new liveries, and festivals of one sort or another followed 
 in moderate succession for several weeks. A festival, after 
 the ex-Queen's o^^ti heart, was celebrated early in July. A 
 daughter of the Earl of Melfort had resolved to become a nun ; 
 she had selected the convent of the English Benedictines, 
 in the Eaubourg St. Marcel, as the "house" of which she 
 was desirous to become a member; and there, Mary Beatrice 
 herself gave the young girl the veil. Melfort had formerly 
 been secretary to James ; he was now a Knight of the Gar- 
 ter, and first, if not only Gentleman of the Chamber to the 
 exiled King. He was now also a Eomanist ; but he had five 
 Protestant children by a first marriage, and this part of his 
 family resided, unmolested, in England. He had married a 
 second time, and he was, at this period, the father of twelve 
 Eomanist children, of this second marriage, all of whom had 
 their dwelling-place in France. The religious festival, alluded 
 to above, was succeeded by a more joyous one still, at St. 
 Germains. In July, " Mr. Eitzjames, the titular Duke of 
 Albemarle," as the English papers describe him, was mar- 
 ried to the gay Mademoiselle de Lussan ; and the last elee- 
 mosynary contribution from Rome served to give splendour 
 to the fete, and comfort to the chief actors concerned therein. 
 
 Serious business was not neglected during this festive 
 time. Scottish visitants frequently arrived at St. Germains, 
 and suddenly returned. Between the visits, James might 
 be seen driving to Versailles, not in a court-carriage, but in 
 a "post-calash," the derogation, in the vehicle, being com- 
 pensated for by the attendance of two gentlemen in waiting 
 and an escort of eight men-at-arms. 
 
 While the son of James was hunting with his father in
 
 132 MONAECHS RETIRED EBOM BUSINESS. 
 
 the forest of St. Germains, tlie son of tlie Princess Anne, in 
 London, was hunting the stag in the parks, — now chasing 
 one right through St. James's Street, now running into 
 another in the very middle of Rosamond's Eond, in the 
 Grreen Park. Both these royal "lads " looked to a throne 
 as their natural inheritance, but neither reached the seat to 
 which he was told he might aJspire. The young Duke of 
 Grloucester died this year of smallpox ; and it is creditable 
 to James that he and his court immediately put on mourn- 
 ing for the death of his grandson, and would not wait, as 
 Louis did, till the demise of the boyish prince was officially 
 communicated by the ambassador from the English Court. 
 
 In November, James and his Queen repaired to Fontaine- 
 bleau. Among the most interesting incidents, — it might be 
 almost said, the only interesting incident, of the sojourn 
 there, apart from the ostentatious reception awarded them 
 by Louis,— was the procession of redeemed French slaves 
 from Algiers. The theatrical property, which made part of 
 the sentiment and the sight on this occasion, must not be 
 passed over without notice. Every ex-slave — tliere were 
 sixty-six of these enfranchised persons — walked bound in 
 silver fetters, made for the occasion, and between two ballet- 
 girls, or boys, decked out with slight measure of gau.ze and 
 extensive spread of wings, who thus represented angels. At 
 this very moment, French Protestants were undergoing 
 harsher treatment than had ever been endured by these men 
 in Algiers. Some were judicially murdered ; some were 
 daily flogged in the prisons or dockyards, where they were 
 confined ; children were imprisoned till they learned to pro- 
 fess " the religion of the King ;" and Protestant maids and 
 matrons were put at tlie mercy of orthodox dragoons, in 
 comparison with whose brutality, death would have been of 
 all boons the richest. The two monarchs, who shed tears 
 at the spectacle of the freed slaves from Algiers, walking 
 before them under the light pressure of silver chains and
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GERMAIKS, 133 
 
 the pleasant escort of theatrical angels, had no sympathy 
 with the thousands of French Protestants who were out- 
 raged, scourged, despoiled, transported, shot, or hanged, for 
 no other crime than desiring to worship God according to 
 their consciences. Whilst these silver-fettered slaves were 
 parading before the two Kings, luckless footmen were being 
 pilloried in Paris for carrying canes ; and the poor people 
 had almost forgotten the taste of bread. But mercy was not 
 considered a political or social virtue. In England, at the 
 period here treated of, the Judges never went upon circuit 
 without a supply of new- burning-irons, for branding petty 
 larcenists in the cheek, and put among the judges' luggage, 
 by a considerate Government. 
 
 It was the destiny of James to see others rise to thrones 
 while he was kept from his own. He was in France when 
 Louis XIV. exclaimed, on the elevation of his grandson the 
 Duke d'Anjou to the throne of Spain, " II n'y a plus de 
 Pyrenees ! " AVhen James and Mary went to congratulate 
 that fortunate, rather than worthy, young prince, it was 
 some consolation to them that they were treated as actual 
 sovereigns. When they entered the apartment of the new 
 sovereign, they saw three chairs placed in an exact line. 
 Mary Beatrice was conducted to the centre chair, while on 
 either hand sat a King ; he of Spain taking the left, " be- 
 cause he was in his own house." Previous to the grand 
 supper which followed this visit, the " Prince of Wales " 
 distingxiished himself by his forwardness. He stepped be- 
 fore the Spanish Ambassador, who was about to address his 
 royal master, and, uncovering, commenced a compliment of 
 his own. The young King of Spain acknowledged the roy- 
 alty of the youthful speaker, by first removing, and then 
 immediately replacing, his own feathered and jewelled hat. 
 The congratulations of the Prince of AVales were made in 
 such enthusiastic terms that the object of them could not 
 help breaking through etiquette, by honestly declaring that
 
 134 MO'AECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 he ardently hoped the time was at hand when he might con- 
 gratulate the Stuarts on the recovery of their own, to which 
 end he would contribute all the means in his power. 
 
 The inhabitants of St. Germains could not well account 
 for the doubling of the personal guard of the Prince, soon 
 after the event above noticed. It was accounted for by 
 James himself, who gave out that an intention existed on the 
 part of certain English Protestants to seize on the Prince, 
 carry him over to England, and there educate him accord- 
 ing to the principles of the Reformed Church. To save him 
 from such a catastrophe, the body-guard of the precious heir 
 was doubled. He had not very many to see after his safety, 
 even then. 
 
 On the other hand, there was comforting intelligence 
 from Rome. The Duke of Berwick had been sent to com- 
 pliment the new Pope, Clement XI., on his accession, and 
 to request a further supply of money. The request was 
 considered the more likely to be complied with, as Clement, 
 when Cardinal, had induced the two preceding Pontiffs to 
 furnish James liberally with money. James was not de- 
 ceived in him. Clement sent a contribution, which is vari- 
 ously stated at 9000 and 12,000 crowns. He did what was 
 almost as grateful to the English ex-monarch, namely, he 
 promised substantial help towards the i-ecovery of the lost 
 throne. On the first instabnent of such help, James gazed 
 with pleasure. It consisted of a gold cross and six silver 
 candlesticks for the King himself; numerous holy relics for 
 the Queen ; a cross, and figures of St. Peter and St. Paul, 
 beaten in flat gold, for the Prince of Wales ; and a " Cecilia 
 rosary" for the Prince's sister. 
 
 He had little doubt, now, but that all would go well. A 
 mischance on the part of Lord Melfort placed the desired 
 end further ofl' than ever. Mellbrt had despatched a letter 
 to England, which was addressed, it is said, to the Earl of 
 Perth. It was intercepted, and it fell into the hands of
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GERMAIXS. 135 
 
 Government, wto learnt therefrom tliat James II. had now 
 more influence over Louis XIV. than any other person ; and 
 that such influence would be speedily employed to work 
 upon the French monarch to invade England and thereby 
 increase his own glory. The discovery of this letter was 
 for some time not knovm at the Court of St. Germains. 
 Meanwhile James, on Good Friday, in the month of Mai'ch, 
 1701, was attending the ordinary service for that solemn 
 day, in the chapel of the palace. The dethroned King heard 
 the words from the Lamentations of Jeremiah, — " Remem- 
 ber, Lord, what is come upon us ; consider and behold 
 our reproach : our inheritance is turned to strangers, our 
 houses to aliens ;" — and as these words were uttered, he fell 
 to the ground in a fainting fit of an apoplectic nature. He 
 had been for a long period in declining health, and the words 
 of the prophet, falling upon his ear, were too heavy for him 
 to bear in his enfeebled state, and for a moment or two it 
 was thought that they had killed him. He partially re- 
 covered, but the coiirt physicians ordered him to repair to 
 the baths of Bourbon. He consented ; answering to those of 
 his friends who urged that the weather was too cold at that 
 early period of the year for him to undertake the journey 
 without peril, that his distemper compelled him to incur 
 the risk for the sake of promised benefit, and that neces- 
 sity had no law. He went there, attended by the Marquis 
 d'Urfe, and under an escort of sixty men. On the route, 
 the ex-royal family of England sojovu'ued at various convents, 
 and the sick King had scarcely reached Boiu'bon, enfeebled 
 more than when he had started by an attack of the gout in 
 his legs, when Melfort arrived in hot haste to ask forgive- 
 ness for the fault he had committed in writing a letter upon 
 the prospects and intentions of James, which had fallen 
 into the possession of the "English usurper." James was 
 never of a forgivLng temper ; and now, exasperated by dis- 
 ease, anger, and disappointment, he coldly bade Melfort
 
 136 MONATICHS EETIUED TEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 address "himself for pardon to the French monarch. The 
 unlucky secretary obeyed, and was very graciously received, 
 comforted, and still more graciously dismissed. He was 
 told to go home and think no more of it. With a relieved 
 heart he sought his own dwelling, where he found a guard 
 of soldiers, who, with little ceremony, surrounded him and 
 carried him off to the Bastille. In a cell of that gloomy 
 fortress he was left to mourn his own awkwardness and ill- 
 luck, and to groan over the vindictiveness of kings. He was 
 subsequently banished to Angers. This was a hard measvire 
 against Melfort. James's Queenhad been far more indiscreet; 
 for she not only communicated to Lady Tyrconnel events 
 which that lady conveyed to " the Marlboroughs," but she 
 Avrote confidential letters to the chattering nuns of Chaillot, 
 who communicated the contents to the intriguing ecclesias- 
 tics who were constantly calling at the convent, and who 
 were in the pay of William, or his ambassador Manchester. 
 After this period, although James so far recovered as to 
 be able to return to, and even hunt at, St. Grermains, his 
 liealth rapidly declined. Prior, in the rough and rude man- 
 ner of a person who was content with a butcher's wife for 
 his Chloe, writes to Halifax, " I faced old James and all his 
 court the other day at St. Cloud. Vive Guillaume ! You 
 never saw such a strange figure as the old bully is, lean, 
 worn, and revelled. . . . The Queen looks very melancholy, 
 but otherwise well enough. Their equipages are all very 
 ragged and contemptible.-' Indeed between this period and 
 his death, James had little to do but with the affairs of 
 death. The last visit of ceremony paid by him and Mary 
 Beatrice was to Versailles, to " compliment," in the loose 
 phrase of the papers, the King on tlie death of the Duke 
 of Orleans. The Queen paid a similar visit to the widowed 
 Duchess. The latter sat upright on a bed, " dressed in a 
 gown of crimson, spotted witli black, with a border of la^vIl 
 seven ells long, and a headdress of lawn, that covered her
 
 JA:SIES II. AT ST. GEBMAIXS. 
 
 137 
 
 govai, of the same length." Thus there was a fashion even 
 for the reception of compliments of condolence. Indeed, 
 in following fashion too closely, Mary Beatrice herself once 
 nearly lost her life. She wore those towering cornets of 
 lace on her nightcap which gave height to the forehead, but 
 made sober people look like their own caricatures. To this 
 headdress she accidentally set fire ; and the escape of her 
 hair and eyes from all harm — only the lace being consumed 
 — was set down as a miracle by those who were already pre- 
 pared to acknowledge in Mary Beatrice, half a saint. 
 
 The death of Sir William Walgrave, the ex-King's phy- 
 sician, gave the nervous refugee a considerable shock. His 
 own pecuniary necessities, too, pressed heavily upon hhu, de- 
 spite the allowance made him by Louis, and the contribu- 
 tions from home. The salaries of his household, and the 
 pensions of his followers, were diminished by one-half. This 
 excited loud and disloyal murmuriugs ; and James was ha- 
 rassed by these, as he was by the conviction that no person 
 left him for England ^\-ith letters, whatever his rank, — and 
 the Jacobite agents were of all ranks, from dukes to hair- 
 dressers, from duchesses toshopwomen, — without theEnglisli 
 ambassador knowing their names, whence they came, and 
 where they were likely to land. Some at least of these 
 agents must have been in the pay of both parties. 
 
 At length came the last melancholy scene. It had been 
 long prepai-ing ; and the ex-King's death had been so often 
 reported, that when the event did take place there was nei- 
 ther surprise expressed in London, nor curiosity as to the 
 particulars. The frequent fits by which he had been stricken 
 during the summer, had shattered alike his person and un- 
 derstanding. A pale phantom, he moved about the garden 
 of the palace, leaning on the ai'm of the Queen ; and eveu, 
 a short time before his death, he visited Louis at Versailles, 
 and received a visit in return from tlie French King and the 
 Duke of Orleans. The two monarchs counselled the Duke,
 
 138 MOXAECHS EETIEEB FROM BUSi:S'ESS. 
 
 whose excesses were killing him, to observe a more tem- 
 perate diet, if he would live long. Orleans laughed at both 
 advisers, returned home, ate a heavy supper after an immo- 
 derate dinner, drank deeply as was his wont, was struck 
 down by an apoplectic fit, and soon after died. Louis found 
 consolation for the loss in playing the harpsichord and ar- 
 ranging the order of the funeral. Meanwhile, James died 
 more slowly. Even while thus dying, his consort was busy 
 in his name, with plans for the restoration of her husband. 
 "With the usual restlessness of a dying man, James wished 
 to visit Fontainebleau, but, as Lord Manchester wrote home, 
 " I know this Court will prevent it, because he might very 
 likely die there, which would be inconvenient." 
 
 The London papers of the period state that James was 
 at table when the last fit attacked him. He was not at table, 
 but at Mass ; the day was Friday, September 2nd, and he 
 fell to the ground as the words from Jeremiah were being 
 sung, which once before had so seriously affected him. He 
 was conveyed to his room, where he partially recovei-ed, but 
 had another fit — of sanguineous apoplexy — on the Sunday. 
 Fagon pronounced the case hopeless ; but Constable and the 
 other English doctors were less decided in their opinions. 
 On rallying from this attack, he took leave of his two chil- 
 dren, the Prince of Wales and the Princess Louisa. To 
 each he gave excellent advice. Had he himself acted up to 
 the precept which he impressed on his son, he would never 
 have been deprived of his sceptre. " Kemember," he said, 
 after some commonplace remarks on the valuelessness of 
 the world, the bondage of sin, and the possibility of a resto- 
 ration, " remember, kings are not made for themselves, but 
 for the good of the people. Set before their eyes, in your 
 own actions, a pattern of all manner of virtues ; consider 
 thera as your children." His own children were in tears, 
 especially when he faltered out a noble and well-deserved 
 eulogy on their mother. He declared that he felt himself
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAIKS. 139 
 
 in charity with all the world, and expressly named William 
 of Orange and the Princess Anne as being entirely forgiven 
 by him. He forbade all pomp at his funeral, chose his own 
 epitaph, "Here lies James, King of Great Bi-itain," and 
 expressed his utter contempt for all worldly greatness. 
 Among those who surrounded him were some who were 
 less courtiers than they seemed to be. One of these whis- 
 pered to another, " What a pother here about that religion ! 
 All the world knows that his Majesty's religion did not 
 hinder his mounting the throne of England ; and he might 
 have sat there to this day, had not his following ill counsels 
 pulled him down from it." This sharp, censui'ing speech 
 will be found in the newspapers of the period, and may 
 have been uttered as reported, for similar thoughts were 
 common then, and they have since possessed many a man to 
 whom the storj of this monarch was familiar. 
 
 He lingered on, and Louis paid him more than one visit. 
 The profligate King was the politest of Frenchmen, and 
 manifested much delicacy and good feeling on this occasion. 
 He descended from his cumbrous coach at the outer gate of 
 the palace, not driving into the courtyard, lest the noise of 
 the wheels should disturb the royal patient. In these in- 
 terviews Loiiis cheered his dying guest, and, alluding to a 
 subject which he could not bear to hear alluded to by others 
 — death, he formally engaged, whenever God summoned 
 James to a place in Heaven, to recognize the Prince of 
 Wales as " King of the three realms." The dying King 
 was moved at this promise ; and all the courtiers present, 
 Manchester's spies included, flung themselves at the feet of 
 the generous Louis, and did homage to his greatness of 
 soul. The promise caused much joy in the little Court ; and 
 the days which intervened between the hour in which Louis 
 so bound himself, and that of the death of James, were 
 passed with a resignation of spirit for the now inevitable 
 and approaching event. The decay of the exiled monarch
 
 140 MOIfATlCHS RETIRED EROM BrSI>"ESS. 
 
 was gradual ; his intellect contiuued unimpaired to the last, 
 but his sight occasionally failed him ; and on two occasions 
 he was unable to see Louis and the Bishop of Autun, who 
 stood near him. His Queen remained in attendance upon 
 him ; but the sorrow which she could not hide, was a source 
 of suffering to the sinking patient as well as to herself; and 
 four-and-twenty hours before the death of James she was 
 removed to her own room, after taking leave of him, in one 
 long look, which James returned, perhaps not altogether un- 
 conscious of its meaning. " Why is this ?" were nearly the 
 last words to her. " Are you not flesh of my flesh, and bone 
 of my bone ? Are you not a part of myself ? How is it 
 then that one part of me should feel so differently from the 
 other, — I in joy, and you in despair? My joy is in the 
 hope that I feel that God, in his mercy, -will forgive me my 
 sins, and receive me into his beatitude ; and you are afflicted 
 at it. I have long sighed for this happy moment, and you 
 know it well. Cease then to lament for me. I will pray 
 for you. Farewell!" If there be something of querulous- 
 ness in these words, it was because of the nature of James, 
 which he could never control. The Queen was led away, 
 and the Bishop of Autun then put up tlie prayers for a 
 departing soul ; that soul still clung for awhile to its tc^ie- 
 ment, and tlie Queen even ventured once again to approach 
 the couch of her dying husband, who had barely strength 
 to declare that his only pain was to know that she was suf- 
 fering. She was again conducted to her chamber, and there 
 awaited the imminent event. It occurred on the 14th of 
 September ; and James thus died, as he had expressed a 
 wish to do, on a Friday. His death, preceded by some suf- 
 fering, was a mere ceasing to breathe ; and therewith the 
 last of the Stuart Kings ceased to struggle for a crown, the 
 attainment of which lie affected, and only affected, to con- 
 sider with contempt. Certainly, in one thing James in his 
 exile was not unlike Coriolanus in /<«« banishment, for" with
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAIKS. 141 
 
 a proud heart he wore his humble weeds." The wits of 
 Paris however rather attacked his confessor than himself, 
 and did not spare either the spiritual father of Louis, or the 
 Pope, who, unfortunately for the cause of James, was the 
 enemy of France. These three were thus gibbeted together 
 in a disrespectful epigram : — 
 
 " Trois fripons, tout a I'aise, 
 
 Ont desole I'univers ; 
 L'un est le Pere La Chaise, 
 
 L'autre est le Pere Peters ; 
 Le troisieme est Innocent, 
 
 Grrand ami de G-iiillaume. 
 
 Jacques en est pour son royaume, 
 Et Louis pour son argent." 
 
 They in England who looked to something else besides 
 the natural course of events, for the complete downfall of 
 the Stuarts, after the death of James, found what they 
 sought in the so-called "Baby Prophecy," which was 
 brought by Dean Jones from Newry, and which was con- 
 ceived in these words — " Fugit Talpa, morietur in via, et 
 Semen Eegis erit mendicum in terra aliena, in seternam." 
 
 Mary of Modena, though hoping to establish the right of 
 her son, could not but dread that the death of James might 
 render his family the wanderers and beggars which the pro- 
 phecy declared they would be. The prospect of that death 
 had afflicted her sorely ; and while she was under such afflic- 
 tion her one fault of bigotry may be forgiven her, and re- 
 spect for her virtues may authorize the reader of her story 
 to say of her, as young Wilfred Wycliffe sang in his song 
 near Barnard Tower, — 
 
 " Fair Queen ! I will not blame thee now." 
 
 She had been compelled to withdraw from the chamber, 
 where the King lay in his agony, and was on her knees at 
 prayer, when she was interrupted by the entry of Father
 
 142 MONAECHS EETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Euga. She looked at him steadily, but he only said, calmly, 
 " Let us pray," and commenced with the ejaculation " Suhve- 
 nite, Sancti Dei." Mary of Modena exclaimed, " O my God, 
 then all is done !" and she cast herself on the ground, weep- 
 ing abundantly, and only replying to the Father's counsel, 
 to show submission, the word " Fiat," without adding ^^ vo- 
 luntas Tua" till it was at last wrung from her by the en- 
 treaties of the anxious priest. With some difficulty she was 
 removed to Chaillot. Previous to leaving, she saluted her 
 son : " Sir," she said, " I acknowledge you as King, but I 
 hope you will never forget that you. are my son." She 
 was met at the gates of the convent at Chaillot by all the 
 nuns : she drew her hood over her face, as she first saw the 
 sisters in tears, and was passing through them without prof- 
 ferring a word, when one among them ventured to whisper, 
 as the Queen passed near her, the words of the Psalmist, 
 " My soul, will you not be subject to Grod ?" " Fiat volun- 
 tas Tua !" Tly ivill he done ! — was all the Queen could utter, 
 as she stopped before the reverend mother of the commu- 
 nity. The mother consoled her, by informing her that she 
 was the widow of a saint in heaven ; and Mary expressed 
 her belief, " by reason of the virtues I have seen him prac- 
 tise." She clasped to her breast apiece of the True Cross, lay 
 long prostrate before more than one altar, and was " modest, 
 wise, and submissive to the decrees of God." The avithor of 
 the ' Circular Letter from the religious convent of Chaillot ' 
 says, " That all the three days that her Majesty stayed 
 here, she did nothing but pray and hear the reading of holy 
 books, and sometimes hear discourses of the virtues of the 
 lioly King. The nights themselves did not interrupt those 
 pious exercises : there were always near her Majesty some 
 of our sisters, who picked out proper subjects to comfort 
 her ovit of the Holy Scripture, the Fathers, and our holy 
 Founder, whicli she relished very much." 
 
 Among the ladies whom James and his consort had often
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GERMAIKS. 143 
 
 honoured with long visits, was a Madame de Perrier, who 
 had preferred retiring to a convent, rather than accept the 
 crown of Poland. In her religious life she was known as 
 "Anne Mary of Jesus," and she had recently died "in the 
 odour of sanctity." A sketch of the virtues of this de- 
 ceased lady was read to the Queen during her sojourn at 
 Chaillot, " and when they came to the passage where it is 
 said that this great servant of God preferred the quality of 
 being a humble, religious woman, before that of being Queen 
 of Poland, her Majesty said, ' Ah ! she had a great deal of 
 reason on her side ; there is no demur to be made in the 
 choice, when we are liberty to make it.' " Poor Mary's ex- 
 perience of royalty had been but a bitter one. 
 
 When the heart of the deceased King arrived at the con- 
 vent, the Queen was not informed of the circumstance ; but 
 she perhaps divined it, for she was in a continual agitation of 
 uneasiness and pain, for which, she said, she could not ac- 
 count to herself. There was no lack of spiritual comforters 
 at hand ; and one of them, who visited her on the following 
 day, the Cardinal de Noailles, declared that he " had never 
 seen a more piercing sorrow, nor a greater virtue." 
 
 She was on the point of leaving the convent, at the end of 
 the third day, when she suddenly stopped, declared that she 
 felt a conviction that the heart of her husband was luider 
 the roof, and then passionately entreated that she might be 
 brought to the spot where it was deposited. The nuns ac- 
 knowledged the presence of the sacred deposit ; but they 
 pleaded royal and ecclesiastical commands to keep the fact 
 secret from her, and they implored, in their turn, that she 
 would make " the sacrifice to our Saviour, to deny herself in 
 this, that it woidd be very acceptable to him." But Mary 
 replied, that she did not believe that God required such sa- 
 crifice at her hands ; " I will only pay it my respects," she 
 said, " ofiPer up my prayers, and retire." 
 
 The sisters could not withstand such natural entreaty.
 
 144 MONAECHS EETIKED FKOM BUSINESS. 
 
 They conducted her to the chapel of St. Francis de Sales. 
 The heart of her husband was in an urn, which stood near 
 the altar. She was strongly moved, but she was still more 
 strongly disciplined ; her impulse was to rush forward, but 
 she restrained it, and first performed all necessary religious 
 duties : she knelt, crossed her hands on her bosom, and 
 bowed herself to the ground, while the ordinary prayers for 
 the dead were repeated and the De Frofundis was sung. 
 When all was done, she arose, slowly approached the Cre- 
 dence table, where the heart was placed, gazed at it long, 
 cast holy water upon it, and then, kneeling and bending 
 across it, she ardently kissed the urn through the crape 
 which was decently spread over it. She was unable to utter 
 a word when she arose ; nor was she able to walk to her 
 carriage ; the good sisters bore her thither in a chair, and, 
 as she drove away, they looked after her through their tears. 
 The very fiercest Whig might have shared in their sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 The recognition of the pretended Prince of Wales as 
 King of England, and his proclamation by that title at the 
 gates of St. Germains, excited a burst of wrath, even in the 
 phlegmatic AYilliam. He was not consoled by the adhesion 
 of crowds of Nonjurors, who now deemed themselves freed 
 from their oaths to James, at liberty to swear allegiance to 
 William, and who were very desirous to be exempt from 
 double taxation and other inconveniences. Trance protested 
 that nothing serious was meant by the recognition of two 
 sovereigns of one kingdom, and that it had occurred before 
 without inconvenience to any one. William immediately re- 
 called Manchester ; and the Lords Justices, who administered 
 the government while the King was in Holland, very unce- 
 remoniously ordered the French Ambassador, Poussin, to 
 quit the English dominions. Poussin betook himself in all 
 haste to Dover, where an incident occurred that is worth 
 recording. The Envoy was on his way to the packet, when
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAINS. 145 
 
 lie was stopped by a boy, of whom tlie Ambassador angrily 
 demanded his business. " My business," said tlie Kentisb 
 lad, " is, that when you landed here, you were without boots, 
 and I lent you an old pair to ride up to London in ; you 
 never returned me my boots, nor sent me any money for 
 the loan of them." " Boy," replied Poussin, who did not 
 deny this strange transaction, " here is half-a-crown for your 
 old boots; take it, and stand aside." "I will neither take 
 it nor stand aside," cried the pertinacious owner of the 
 missing property ; "I will have five shillings." The Am- 
 bassador of the Grand Monarch haughtily refused to accede 
 to such exorbitant terms, and turned towards the boat. 
 By this time however a mob had assembled, and nothing in 
 the world was so brutal, in those days, as an English mob : 
 they so terrified the Envoy, that he was but too glad to allow 
 himself to be arrested by a constable. The latter conducted 
 him, in custody, before a neighbouring justice, and the re- 
 pi'esentative of Louis Quatorze there paid the five shillings 
 demanded for the hire of the pair of old boots in which he 
 had ridden to London. 
 
 If William smiled at this circumstance, he was made 
 grave by one of another quality. His own health was ra- 
 pidly failing. He valued the opinion of the great French 
 physician Fagon ; but he did not like to consult him. A 
 \ATitten description of the symptoms of William's malady 
 was sent to Fagon, as being those of a Dutch parson. Fa- 
 gon read it, and returned the blunt reply, that "the reverend 
 gentleman who labours under these symptoms had better 
 prepare himself for his end." Thus to the two rival Kings 
 was one man the assured prophet of death. Of one of these 
 two there still remains to be said a few words. 
 
 James II. became more powerful after his decease than 
 he had ever been in his lifetime, if credit may be given to 
 the wonderful stories related of the more wonderful miracles 
 wrought by his intercession. He had, in the days of his 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 hopeless adversity, led a life of such religious strictness, 
 that he was almost considered as a saint while yet living ; 
 and was very nearly registered on the list of canonized 
 men after death. They who were present at the opening of 
 his body — that is, the surgeons and guards — carried off por- 
 tions of it as relics. It is said that they " could not be pre- 
 vented," so great was their veneration for the saintly King! 
 They anticipated the judgment of the Ecclesiastical Tri- 
 bunal, which still possesses the proofs of the monarch's 
 claims to be enrolled among the saints, but which has never 
 yet pronounced a judgment on the matter. These proofs, 
 after the acts of his life, have reference to the cures which 
 he effected after death. In his healing capacity, at this 
 time — I do not make use of that term lightly — he had no 
 particular respect for persons. He successfully interceded 
 for all, from octogenarian prelates to the spouse of a danc- 
 ing-master. First, there was the Bisliop of Autun, who for 
 just half his life — forty years — had been afflicted with a 
 stoppage in the tear-duct, — that painfid disease known as 
 the fistula lachrymalis. The good Bishop was sorely tried ; 
 but the Lady Superior of a Parisian Convent, and a nun in 
 one of the suburban nunneries, bade him be of good cheer, 
 for that they knew, from the late King himself, that his first 
 miraculous cure would be performed on the person of the 
 Bishop. All that was required of the latter was, that he 
 should celebrate a Mass for the repose of the King's soul. 
 He obeyed ; and while the service was performing for the 
 benefit of the King, James performed one for the Bishop. 
 De ])rofundis, he put up intercessory prayers for the prelate ; 
 and the latter joyfully discovered, when the Mass was con- 
 cluded, that his laclirymal fistula was cured. Tlie truth of this 
 story is vouched for in the circumstance that the relieved 
 Bishop of Autun \ATote a detailed account of what occurred 
 to him, and addressed the epistle to the Queen-dowager. 
 The nuns at Chaillot appear to have been actively con-
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAIKS. 147 
 
 cemed in these posthumous acts of James. They also sent 
 to the Queen, Mary of Modena, the copy of a letter for- 
 warded to them by the Archbishop of Vienna, who had re- 
 ceived it from a cure in Auvergne, whose brother had been 
 cured of a palsy in the legs, solely by the intercessory prayers 
 of the deposed and defunct monarch. The brother, Gilbert 
 Marais, added his signature to the letter of his brother, in 
 proof of the authenticity of the details. He was a surgeon, 
 and it was reasonably considered that he had good reason 
 to know how he was cured ; — which may not be disputed. 
 Then there was M. de la Rotte, a great lawyer at Metz. He 
 was afflicted with a serious internal disorder, which caused 
 him great anguish, and for the cure of which the faculty 
 could hold out no hopes, save by time and patience. M. de 
 la Eotte had neither leisure to be ill, nor patience to endure 
 the torture which racked his loins. He accordingly ad- 
 dressed his prayers to the deceased King James. The cure 
 does not seem to have been immediate. The lawyer seems to 
 have discovered the reason. He added to his prayers a vow, 
 that if the King would establish his cure, by royal inter- 
 cession with Heaven, the patient would visit the chapel 
 where the monarch's body lay, and perform his devotions in 
 that sacred sanctuary, as soon as he could conveniently re- 
 pair thither. It may be concluded that the monarch was 
 satisfied with the bargain, for the lawyer's " prayer was 
 heard, and the next day he performed his vow." 
 
 Agaia, there was Philip Pitel, a Benedictine Monk of the 
 diocese of Tours. He was reduced to the very point of 
 death by an aggravated quinsey ; his throat was so swollen, 
 that sufibcation was imminent; and he suffered scarcely 
 less from an inflammatory cough. His demise was hourly 
 looked for. In this extremity however he bethought him- 
 self of the direction in which he might find safety. He 
 accordingly " felt a sudden and unaccountable impulse to 
 prefer the following prayer : — ' O God, I beseech thee mer- 
 
 H 2
 
 148 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 cifuUy to cure me, ani to grant me health, through the 
 merits and intercession of King James ; and I promise to 
 have a Mass said, as a thanksgiving, in the Benedictine 
 Church, vfhere his corpse lies, and to touch the mort-cloth 
 which covers it, with my tongue.' " The terms were accepted 
 by Heaven's Chancery, for "the patient soon felt a profuse 
 sweat breaking out over all his body, and in due time his re- 
 covery was completed." In like manner the ex-sovereign 
 cured a country girl of deafness, and the wdfe of the dancing- 
 master to the Duke of Saxe-Gotha, M. I'Epervier, of a rheu- 
 matism. This latter case was attested by the husband, a 
 Benedictine prior, and three monks. They expressly declare 
 that the cure was effected by the intercession of the late 
 King ; and, by way of additional proof, the surgeon and his 
 assistant, or apprentice as he is more properly called, em- 
 phatically proclaim, with a rare and laudable modesty, that 
 they did not contribute to the patient's recovery. Such ac- 
 cumulative proof satisfied those who thought it logical. 
 Nairne, who details these and many other instances, adds an 
 account of a case in his own family ; he narrates it as though 
 he would fain believe, and yet is compelled to doubt. "There 
 is found," he says, "to this day, in the registers of that 
 Church" (the Benedictine in Paris, to which the royal body 
 was removed), "a particular account of several miraculous 
 cures, or such as appeared at least to he so, wrought upon 
 sick persons, through the intercession, as was piously be- 
 lieved, of this holy King; and afterwards, of the Masses 
 which were said in that church, agreeably to the intention 
 of these persons. Among others, there is an attestation 
 that my deceased wife had a Neuvaine celebrated in that 
 church for my son, who was then about five years of age, 
 and troubled with a rupture, of which he was cured a little 
 after the Neuvaine was finished ; and he has felt nothing of 
 that inconveniency ever since. However, I attest nothing 
 here but facts, as it does not become me to enter into a
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GERMAINS. 149 
 
 discussion of what is, or is not, miraculous." Nairne, with- 
 out expressing his own individual belief, adds, that the 
 public recognized as true miracles tlie other sudden cures re- 
 lated above, and of which he knew nothing but by hearsay. 
 It was probably a consequence of the idea that sanctity 
 attached itself to the person of James, that such singular 
 partition was made of his remains. His heart was sent to one 
 convent, his brains to another, his bowels were committed 
 to the keeping of a third ; and his body, after resting for awhile 
 at St. Grermains, was temporarily deposited in the chapel of 
 the English Benedictines in Paris. For three-quarters of 
 a century, the Paris Guide-books, beginning with that of 
 Germain Le Brice, in 1725, did not fail to point out to the 
 visitors to the French capital that the body of the King of 
 England was here " e« depot.'''' The tomb, within which it 
 was deposited, did not form the only shrine to which Ja- 
 cobites repaired. In the old Scotch College, in the Eue des 
 Fosses Saint- Victor, the brains of the deceased monarch, 
 in an urn of bronze gilt, surmounted a monument, erected 
 from the designs of Garnier, by the Duke of Perth, to the 
 memory of his master. On this monument was an inscrip- 
 tion, more adulatory probably than any ever read by the 
 Ephori, when, in disgust of "post-mortem laiidation," they 
 prohibited the employment of epitaphs. In the days of the 
 great Revolution, the urn on this monument was broken by 
 the populace, and the brains it contained were trampled out 
 upon the ground. The royal body, at the Benedictines, was 
 treated rudely, but with something more of reverence than 
 the brains in the Scottish College. At the time alluded to, 
 the convent was used as a prison, and among the prisoners 
 was a Mr. Fitz-Simons, who was a witness of the treatment 
 to which the corpse was subjected, and who thus describes 
 what he saw : — " I was a prisoner in Paris, in the convent 
 of the English Benedictines, in the Eue St. Jacques, daring 
 part of the Revolution. In the year 1793 or 1791 the body
 
 150 MONABCHS EETIBED FEOM BUSINESS, 
 
 of King James II. of England was in one of the cLapels 
 there, where it had been deposited some time, under the ex- 
 pectation that it would one day be sent to England, for in- 
 terment in Westminster Abbey. It had never been buried. 
 The body was in a wooden coi£n, enclosed in a leaden one, 
 and that again enclosed in a second wooden one, covered 
 with black velvet. While I was so a prisoner, the sans- 
 culottes broke open the coffins, to get at the lead, to cast 
 into bullets. The body lay exposed nearly a whole day. It 
 was swaddled like a mummy, bound tight with garters. The 
 sans-culottes took out the body, which had been embalmed. 
 There was a strong smell of vinegar and camphor. The 
 corpse was beautiful and perfect ; the hands and nails were 
 very fine ; I moved and bent every finger. I never saw so 
 fine a set of teeth in my life. A young lady, a fellow-pri- 
 soner, wished much to have a tooth ; I tried to get one out 
 for her, but could not, they were so firmly fixed. The feet 
 also were very beautiful. The face and cheeks were just as 
 if he were alive. I rolled his eyes ; the eyeballs were per- 
 fectly firm under my finger. The French and English pri- 
 soners gave money to the sans-culottes for showing the body. 
 They said he was a good sans-culotte, and they were going 
 to put him into a hole in the public churchyard, like other 
 sans-culottes ; and he was carried away, but where the body 
 was thrown I never heard. King George IV. tried all in 
 his power to get tidiugs of the body, but could not. Around 
 the chapel were several wax moulds of the face hung up, 
 made probably at the time of the King's death, and the 
 corpse was very like them. The body had been originally 
 kept at the palace of St. Germains, whence it was brought 
 to the convent of the Benedictines. Mr. Porter, the prior, 
 was a prisoner at the time in his own convent." 
 
 It is curious that Mr. Fitz-Simons, in 1840, when he gave 
 the above description, was not aware that the body of James 
 was safely removed to the parish church of St. Germains,
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAIXS. 151 
 
 where the King had expressed a wish that it should finally 
 rest. It would seem to have been privately buried ; and the 
 locality was, in course of time, forgotten. Great was the 
 surprise, when, nearly a quarter of a century subsequently, 
 some workmen, engaged in removing the foundations of the 
 old church, on which a new edifice was to be constructed, 
 came upon the " mortal deposit" of the often-disturbed 
 King. The news was conveyed to England ; and George IV. 
 resolved to render fitting honour to the last of the Stuarts, 
 who had thus unexpectedly been brought again upon earth, 
 to challenge the notice of the living. 
 
 Accordingly, in the Paris papers of September 7, 1824, 
 there appeared a paragraph, addressed particularly to the 
 English. It announced that on the 9th instant, in conformity 
 with orders forwarded to the British Ambassador, a funeral 
 service would be solemnized at the parish church of St. 
 Germains, by the Bishop of Cybistria, coadjutor of Edin- 
 burgh, on the occasion of the translation of the mortal re- 
 mains of King James II. The subjects of his Britannic 
 ISIajesty were invited to attend. The paragraph puzzled our 
 journalists at home, who protested against this service, if 
 thereby the legitimate right of the Stuarts was recognized, 
 or confession was made that service for the dead could get 
 a soul in or out of purgatory. Sly hits were directed against 
 Lord Eldon, the keeper of the King's conscience, for order- 
 ing such a Mass, at a period when he was in the habit of 
 toasting the Protestant ascendency. Nevertheless, on the day 
 mentioned, a vast number of people quitted Paris, in order 
 to witness the ceremony at St. Germains. Among the most 
 celebrated personages present were Marshal Macdonald and 
 the Duke de Fitz-James. The Gardes-du-corps rendered 
 royal honours to the mortal remains as they passed along ; 
 and at the conclusion, an English lady made a collection for 
 the poor. She was accompanied by the Count de Sternberg, 
 a descendant of the family of the Stuarts.
 
 152 MOKAECUS EETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 The royal diadem of gold, beneath a black crape veil and 
 on a velvet cushion, was placed above the body, by com- 
 mand of the English Ambassador, who, by a singular coinci- 
 dent, viewed in connection with the ceremony, was a Stuart, 
 — Sir Charles, afterwards Lord Stuart de Rothsay. The 
 inscription on the monument, beneath which the body was 
 deposited, described James as having been renowned for his 
 triumphs in a second degree of rank, but more ujihappy 
 in a supreme station : in primo infelicior. 
 
 It is singular that, in all the epitaphs which have been 
 placed above the remains of the Stuart King, there has been 
 a profuse employment of comparatives. They are to be 
 found in the inscription placed upon the tomb erected in 
 memory of James, by the Duke of Perth. Here it is said 
 that James was "terra ac mari clarus, sed constanti in 
 Deum fide elarior" — "famous by sea and land, but more 
 famous for his fidelity towards God." And again, he is said 
 to have been "rebus secundis major, adversis superior." 
 This inscription was partly adopted, with certain changes, 
 by those who put a legend above the newly-discovered re- 
 mains, in 1824 ; and now, on the modest monument in the 
 church of St. Germains, erected by royal affection to the 
 royal remains, " Regio cineri regia pietas," we read that he 
 whose dust lies within, was " magnus in prosperis, major in 
 adversis" — great in prosperity, and still greater in adversity; 
 a testimony which can be accepted but with great reserve. 
 
 Little more than a quarter of a century had elapsed since 
 the discovery of these remains, when the Emperor Napoleon 
 III. conducted our Queen A^ictoria to the royal tomb in the 
 parish church of St. Germains. Within that space of time 
 France had dethroned two dynasties and overthrown two 
 republics. The illustrious visitors to the shrine, perhaps, 
 found what was certainly there — deep instruction for those 
 who knew how to apply it. When James died at St. Ger- 
 mains, the daughter of a poor Protestant lady, expelled,
 
 JAMES II. AT ST. GEEMAINS. 153 
 
 witli her father, from France by Lotiis XIV., was married to 
 Prince Greorge of Hanover. At the same period there was a 
 respectable family in Florence, a member of which ulti- 
 mately settled, and a descendant of whom practised as a 
 lawyer, in Corsica. Of Protestants there had never been 
 more cruel oppressors than Louis and James ; and no 
 country had so much reason to hate foreign rule, as Corsica 
 had to detest that of the French. And now, in 1855, the de- 
 scendant of tlie French Protestant lady occupied the throne 
 of James, and the grandson of the Corsican lawyer sat in 
 the seat of Louis. The fact is worth recording ; though the 
 deductions drawn from it may vary, according to the temper, 
 faith, and political creed of those to whose attention it is 
 thus recalled. 
 
 Some relics of the last of the reigning Stuarts long lin- 
 gered on our stage. Players dignified their grave action in 
 cast-off royal suits ; and the robes of Mary of Modena were 
 ultimately worn by Mrs. Oldfield. Some such incident may 
 have been in Pope's mind when he alluded to the stage, and 
 told his readers that 
 
 "Edward's armovu' beamed on Gibber's breast." 
 
 KINGS OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Of the twenty -two monarchs who ruled over all England, 
 from the period of Egbert (827) to the death of Harold 
 (1066), Ethelred II. stands marked as a king who was com- 
 pelled to retire (1013). Two years afterwards, however, the 
 exiled sovereign returned, in the absence of Canute, with 
 whom his son, Edmund Ironside, divided the kingdom, in 
 1016. The list of the Kings of England is so familiar to 
 every one, that its absence here will, no doubt, be readily 
 
 h3
 
 154 MONARCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 pardoned. The names only of those Princes who, since Eng- 
 land was a monarchy, have " suffered loss of power during 
 life," are here added. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 1013. Ethelred II. retired from the kingdom, but died on 
 
 the throne in 1015. 
 1307. Edward II. dethroned in January; murdered at 
 
 Berkeley Castle, in September. 
 1399. EiCHARD II. dethroned in September ; murdered at 
 
 Pomfret the following February. 
 1461. Hekrt YI. deposed ; murdered in the Tower ten 
 
 years after, by Eichard, Duke of Gloucester. 
 1483. Edward V. deposed ; and murdered i" ^^^^ Towpr. 
 1649. Charles I, beheaded. 
 1688. James II. abdicated, by flight.
 
 155 
 
 DEPOSED MONARCHS OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 " Est-ce la le respect que vous portez aux Rois?"— Beaitlt. 
 
 The History of Scotland, as far as it concerns the persons 
 of Scottish Kings, is the gloomiest register that ever was 
 penned. From the period of the death, in 859, of Kenneth 
 Mac Alpine, -who was the first who united Scots and Picts 
 under one sceptre, to that of the accession, in 1567, of James 
 YI., who imited the crowns of England and Scotland, and 
 was the first King of Grreat Britain, thirty-seven monarchs 
 held disturbed dominion over the ever-restless people. Of 
 these, only ten died natural deaths ; and of these ten, the 
 half died broken-hearted, at some domestic calamity, or at 
 the failure of some expedition from whicii they had expected 
 to reap great advantage. Twenty-three perished by violent 
 ends, met either in the battle-field, at the hands of rebels 
 or pretended friends, or, as in the solitary case of Mary, 
 on the scaffold. Four of the thirty-seven, either voluntarily 
 or under compulsion, resigned their sceptres ; and it is a 
 very singular circumstance, when the rudeness of the times, 
 the turbulence of the people, and the example afibrded by 
 other States, are considered, that none of the deposed Scot- 
 tish monarchs were put to death. However ready the Scots 
 were to slay the sovereigns against whom they had a quarrel, 
 reasonable or otherwise, they respected their persons, when 
 these were divested of royalty. Thus GrX'ig, or Grregory, that 
 brave and unprincipled King who was almost worshipped by
 
 156 - MONAECnS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS. 
 
 the monks of St. Andrew's, in return for immunities for 
 wliicli they were indebted to his favour, was deposed by an 
 indignant people, in the year 893, at the end of a reign of 
 oppression which lasted, according to some, three, and to 
 others, thirteen years. He survived his deposition four years ; 
 at the end of which time Grrig calmly expired, in his castle, 
 among the hills in the county of Aberdeen. 
 
 Early in the following century, the pious Constantine III., 
 weary with the troubles of a reign of forty years, resigned 
 his crown, and took up his residence among the Culdee 
 monks, at St. Andrew's. He entered the monastery in the 
 capacity of a common brother; but either his exemplary piety 
 or his royal birth had some influence in raising him above 
 that condition, and Constantine, for several years previous 
 to his death, was abbot of the renowned order. 
 
 Donald Bane was the third King of Scotland who died 
 crownless, but not scatheless. William Eufus sent an ex- 
 pedition into Scotland, to depose Donald, and place the di- 
 rect heir of the unfortunate Malcolm Canmore on.the throne. 
 The expedition was successful ; Donald was captured, and 
 the unhappy prisoner lived, during several years, like AVil- 
 liam's own brother in Cardiff", deprived of his eyesight. 
 
 Of the fourth uncrowned monarch, John Baliol, it is only 
 necessary to say that, although he earned the public execra- 
 tion, in 1296, by abdicating his throne, and submitting to 
 Edward of England, yet to William the Lion attaches the 
 disgrace of having, in the previous century, acknowledged 
 himself " liege man" to the English sovereign. John Baliol 
 suffered a two years' imprisonment in the Tower of London, 
 and, having recovered his liberty, spent the remainder of 
 his life in France. 
 
 The struggles between the Bruces and Baliols gave, as 
 prisoners to England, who interfered in the quarrel, and 
 changed sides as policy or profit dictated, now the king of 
 one faction, anon the king of the other. Edward, who had
 
 DEPOSED MONAECHS OF SCOTLAND. 157 
 
 helped John Baliol to tlie throne, and opposed David Bruce, 
 ultimately raised Da^dd to the throne vacated hy John. At 
 the death of David, Robert II., the first King of the Stuart 
 line, and grandson of Eobert Bruce, succeeded to the throne 
 in 1370. Of the nine sovereigns of the Stuart race, from 
 Robert II. to James VI., six were most miserable in their 
 destiny. Eobert III. died broken-hearted ; his son, James 
 I., was a prisoner in England during twenty years previous 
 to his occupation of the thi"one. In the Tower however he 
 read deeply, wrote gracefully, and loved truly. He was one 
 of the best of Scottish kings, and lost his life by assassina- 
 tion. His son, James II., was killed by the bursting of a 
 cannon. The third James, more miserable than either of 
 his predecessors, and as wicked as he was weak, found a 
 dreaded rebel in his own son, and an assassin in one of that 
 son's followers. The fourth of the name fell atTlodden; 
 and the fifth died broken-hearted and in despair, just before 
 his daughter Mary came into the world to succeed to the 
 fatal inheritance. Her crimes — for she was guilty of no less 
 — brought about her forced abdication in the year 1567 ; but 
 the story of her flight to England, her long imprisonment, 
 and her death, is so familiarly known, that recapitulation 
 of it would, perhaps, be deemed impertinent. Nevertheless 
 there are some traits of her life, after her deposition, which 
 may be briefly noticed here, representing, as they do, an 
 uncrowned sovereign in no common light. 
 
 Gruest as she was when she came into England, she was 
 soon made to feel that she was a captive. Her condition in 
 Carlisle Castle was a sorry one. Her own cell was the last of 
 four rooms, and this she could not reach or leave without 
 passing through the sleeping apartment of her gaoler, Lord 
 Scrope. The three women, who constituted all her attendants, 
 were not allowed to sleep in the castle ; and at night oppres- 
 sive desolation must have sat upon the spirit of the ex-queen. 
 She could not leave her own chamber until ten o'clock ; and
 
 158 MONAECHS EETIEED FEO^M BUSINESS. 
 
 not only was she compelled to attend a service at a diurch 
 in the town, which was an offence to her conscience, but a 
 hundred men took her there, under pretence of an escort. 
 She begged hard for a priest and the comfort of a Mass ; but 
 Scrope answered^ that there was nothing of the sort in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 The most extraordinary portion of her uncrowned life was, 
 undoubtedly, its singular love-passages with the Duke of 
 Norfolk. When Elizabeth heard of them, she attacked the 
 Duke ; but that mendacious noble began swearing \iolently, 
 and asked, " Why should I seek to marry so wicked a wo- 
 man, — such a notorious adulteress and murderer ? I love 
 to sleep upon a safe piUow. By your Majesty's favour," he 
 added, " I count myself as good a prince at home iu my 
 bowling-alley at Norwich, as she is, though she were on the 
 throne of Scotland. Besides," he concluded, with a logic 
 which he thought would be acceptable to Elizabeth, " know- 
 ing as I do that she pretendeth a title to the present pos- 
 session of your Majesty's crown, if I were about to marry 
 her, your Majesty might justly charge me with seeking to 
 take your own crown from your head." 
 
 Notwithstanding this bold assertion, the Duke was really 
 anxious to exchange his bowling-alley for the crown-matri- 
 monial of Scotland, and any advantages that might be con- 
 nected therewith. The royal widow of the weak Francis, 
 the gallant Darnley, and the fierce Bothwell, wrote warm 
 letters to the Duke, which had as warm reply ; and yet the 
 lovers had never looked into each other's eyes, nor perhaps 
 cared to do so, — policy, and not affection, governing each. 
 Mary sent him her portrait, when he was, like herself, a 
 captive ; their correspondence " tended altogether to matters 
 of love ;" and a bishop (the prelate of Koss) was the Cupid's 
 messenger who acted as Love's letter-carrier. " If you mind 
 not to shrink not at the matter," wi'ote the ardent Mary to 
 her worthless wooer, "I will die and live with you; your
 
 DEPOSED MONARCHS OF SCOTLAND. 159 
 
 fortune shall be mine. Let me know therefore, in all things, 
 your mind." The Duke had given his written, signed, and 
 sealed engagement to hold no communication with the Queen 
 of Scotland ; but he still continued to receive and to answer 
 the ardent or sorrowful language by which Mary sought to 
 raise his soul to ambition or to devotion, and in which she 
 declared herself entirely his, " and besought him, with irre- 
 sistible endearments, to give himself entirely to her." He 
 yielded to these endearments, for they allured him along a 
 path by which he was willing to go. Such a course how- 
 ever cost him his life. "While he was before liis judges, 
 Mary " did not once look out of her chamber, hearing that 
 the Duke stood upon his arraignment and trial." His Grace 
 was not nearly so much concerned for the fate of the ex- 
 Queen*. "He sayeth very earnestly," writes Lord Skipwith 
 to Lord Burghley, February, 1572, " with vows to God, that 
 if he were oftered to have that woman in marriage, to choose 
 of that or death, he had rather take this death, that now 
 he is going to a hundred parts, and he takes his Saviour to 
 witness of this. He sayeth that nothing that anybody 
 goeth about for her prospereth, nor that else she doth her- 
 self, and also that she is openly defamed." The disappoint- 
 ment of a noble man would have foimd other expression. 
 His was simply the spite of a common varlet. He had 
 hoped, by her means, to raise himself to a throne ; but fail- 
 ing, he affected to scorn the person, and stooped to blast 
 the reputation of her whom he had taken for his mistress. 
 She found comfort however. She spent much time in needle- 
 work ; Avrote to France for turtle-doves and Barbary hens ; 
 found pastime in feeding little birds in a cage ; and begged 
 her uncle, the Cardinal of Guise, to send her " a couple 
 of pretty little dogs" from Lyons. But she never lost 
 sight of the great object she had in vieAv, — her freedom. 
 Conspiracy had not purchased her liberty, and now she 
 sought to procure it by other means. She begged her
 
 160 MONAECHS RETIRED EEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 friends in France to buy bracelets, a mirror, "anything 
 new," that she might present the same to Elizabeth. She 
 asked his Eminence, her uncle, to " contrive some suitable 
 device between lier and me. These little attentions," she 
 says, " would make her more graciously inclined to me than 
 anything else." When Elizabeth accepted her gift of 
 "tablets," Mary was in delight. To please the Queen of 
 England, in small things as well as great, became, she said, 
 her first desire. "I am desirous," she writes, "to make her 
 a head-dress as soon as I can ; but I have so few women 
 to assist me in delicate needlework, that I have not been 
 able to get it ready yet. If you think some articles of net- 
 work would please her better than anything else, I wiU 
 make them ; meanwhile, I beg you to get for me some gold 
 lace, ornamented with silver spangles, the best and most 
 delicate that you can, and to send me six yards of it, and 
 twenty yards of double lace, or else narrow good lace." 
 Thus earnest in small intrigues was she, as she had been 
 earnest and determined in extensively conspiring, in order 
 that she might breathe the blessed air of freedom. Nay, 
 she stooped even to meekly kiss the hands of her who was 
 to slay her. "On the day" — so writes she to Lamothe 
 Eenelon — " on the day that she wiU do me the favour of 
 wearing this" (network for the head), "I beg of you to very 
 humbly kiss her hands, in my name, and for which I shall 
 be obliged to you. "Would that I could look upon her my- 
 self, as you will be able to do !" 
 
 It was all in vain ; and then she turned to more open but 
 equally fruitless methods to soften Elizabeth. Mary had sent 
 pretty trinkets and smart head-dresses ; now she appeals 
 straight to the heart. " I entreat you, for the honour of the 
 grievous passion of our Saviour and Eedeemcr, Jesus Christ 
 ... to permit rae to withdraw out of this kingdom, ... to seek 
 some solace for my poor body," — a body which, as she adds, 
 with the spirit of a woman who will employ a strong word,
 
 DEPOSED MONAECHS OF SCOTLAND. 161 
 
 even though she smart for it, Elizabeth has "already de- 
 stroyed " by an " imprisonment without any right or just 
 foundation." And then follows the insinuation that if she be 
 released, her soul will no longer accuse Elizabeth before 
 God, " whom I beseech to inspire you with kind thoughts 
 regarding my very just and more than reasonable complaints 
 and grievances." The womanly spirit even in supplication 
 would not be silent touching the iniquity of her to whom 
 the supplicant presented her petition. The petitioner was 
 removed to close confinement in chilly Tutbury, where she 
 was not allowed horse-exercise ; and her legs were so en- 
 feebled by rheumatism and inactivity that she was unable 
 to walk much,^ — and never without a guard of eighteen men ; 
 while at her side walked the " bizarre et farouche," whimsi- 
 cal and ferocious Paulet, who would not allow her to give 
 or send the least alms to the poor." Subsequently, she was 
 "plotted into plots," and, step by step, was brought to that 
 scaffold, where her conduct was marked by such courage, 
 dignity, self-respect, and godlike charity, as to gain for her — 
 what was her right — sympathy in that terrible hour, and to 
 secure for her what was less her due — oblivion of the follies 
 and crimes, of which that violent death was a remote but an 
 inevitable consequence. 
 
 KINGS OF SCOTLAND. 
 A. D. 
 
 843. Kenneth Mac Alpine II. united the Scots and Picts. 
 
 Eirst sole monarch of all Scotland. 
 859. Donald V., sometimes called the Third. 
 8G3. Constantine II., killed in battle. 
 
 881. Eth or Hugh the Eair-haired, or Light-footed, mur- 
 
 dered. 
 
 882. Geegokt, 1 - -, 
 
 ESCHA, } ^^P"^^^-
 
 162 MONARCHS RETIRED EROII BUSINESS. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 893. Donald VI., killed by the Danes. 
 
 904. CoNSTANTiNE III., abdicated, and turned monk. 
 
 944. Malcolm I., slain by rebels. 
 
 953. Indoulf, killed by the Danes. 
 
 961. Duff, assassinated. 
 
 965. Culen, killed in battle. 
 
 970. Kenneth III., killed by Fenella. 
 
 994. Constantino IV., fell in battle. 
 
 995. Kenneth the Grim, fell in battle. 
 1003. Malcolm II., killed at Glamis. 
 
 1033. Duncan I., murdered at Bothgownam, Elgin, by 
 
 1039. Macbeth, slain. 
 
 1039. Leelach, Lady Macbeth' s son, slain at Strathbogie by 
 
 1057. Malcolm Caumore III., kdled at Alnwick. 
 
 inQ4( / I^ON^i-D Bain, deposed. 
 * I Duncan II., murdered. 
 
 1098. Edgar. 
 
 1106. Alexander I. 
 
 1124. David, the Saint. 
 
 1153. Malcolm, the Maiden, IV. 
 
 1165. William the Lion. 
 
 1214. Alexander 11. 
 
 1249. Alexander III., broke his neck, when hunting. 
 
 1286. Kegency for Margaret, the Maiden of Norway, who 
 died in Orkney, on her way to Scotland. Inter- 
 regnum. 
 
 1292. John Baliol, abdicated. 
 
 1296. Interregnum. 
 
 1306. Eobert the Bruce. 
 
 1329. David Bruce II., opposed by Edward Baliol, who 
 resigned 1332. David restored. 
 
 1370. Eobert II., Lord High Steward. 
 
 1390. Eobert III. 
 
 1406. Albanv, Eegent, T ^ _ . . _ , , 
 
 1419. Mondac, Eegent, ) ^^^^^ ^- '^^^'''^ "^ ^^S^^^^'
 
 KINGS OF SCOTLAND. 163 
 
 A.D. 
 
 1424. James I., murdered. 
 
 1437. James II., killed by the bursting of a cannon. 
 
 1460. James III., killed. 
 
 1488. James IV., fell at Flodden. 
 
 1513. James V., died of grief. 
 
 1542. Makt, beheaded. 
 
 1567. James VI., died James I. of England.
 
 161 
 
 IRELAND. 
 
 " Ujjon the sodden ground 
 His old right-hand lay nerveless, listless, dead, 
 tJnseeptred ; and his reahnless eyes were closed." — Keats. 
 
 The outline of tlie history of the Kings of Ireland will oc- 
 cupy but a small space. Historians themselves differ so 
 widely in their chronological details, that without entering 
 into any dry discussion, it will suffice to say here, that in 
 ancient times Ireland was a Pentarchy. The mightiest of 
 the five monarchs, however, bore the title of " King of 
 Kings," as chief among them, or "King in Ireland." An 
 invasion of the country, by Egfried, King of the Northum- 
 brians, in 644, disturbed this system; and a subsequent 
 series of assaults by the terrible "Northmen" at last over- 
 turned the Pentarchy, and brought Turgesius to one throne, 
 before w hich all were called upon to render homage. The 
 tyranny of Turgesius led to the slaughter of himself and 
 followers, at the hands of one who is called the King of 
 Meath ; — so that when Irish historians speak of Turgesius 
 being sole King, the assertion is not to be accepted without 
 reserve. The reign of " little kings " re-commenced after 
 the death of Turgesius, and lasted till the year 1172. A 
 species of Irish gallantry led to its fall. The King of Lein- 
 ster was so ardently civil to the wife of the King of Meath, 
 that the latter sovereign attacked the royal seducer, and 
 drove him from his kingdom. Tlie unsceptred monarch 
 betook himself to the court of Henry II. of England. 
 Henry II. took up the quarrel as an armed mediator, and
 
 IRELAND. 165 
 
 settled the diflereuces by subduing the kingdom. The Irish 
 chieftains wei^e gradually brought to acknowledge the sove- 
 reignty of England ; but no English monarch took the title 
 of King of Ireland before Henry VIII. Many an Irish 
 chieftain flew to arms to preserve the Irish nationality ; and 
 the last of them, O'Neil, gained the fruitless but splendid 
 victory of Belturb, in 1646. A too ardent Irish love ruined 
 the kingly dynasties ; and all the valour of " Hy Niale " 
 could not secure the liberty for which it was manifested. 
 
 At whatever age the Milesian or Scotic race of Kings 
 commenced, it had not long been established before a de- 
 posed monarch illustrated the uncertainty of royal estate. 
 The cause was, in some respects, singular. The two sons 
 and successors of Milesius, named Heber and Heremon, — 
 the former having Leinster and Munster ; the latter, Ulster 
 and Connaught,- — divided the island between them. In the 
 division of Heber were two valleys of exquisite beauty and 
 productiveness ; in that of Heremon, there was only one. 
 The three were said to be the fairest and richest in all Ire- 
 land. The magnificent but selfish wife of Heber, not con- 
 tent with being lady of two valleys, envied the one in which 
 the wife of Heremon built her bower. She could not die 
 happy, she said, unless she were called " Queen of the three 
 beautiful valleys." Heber listened to her instigations, and 
 made war, for the sake of this single valley, against his bro- 
 ther. In that war, however, he lost his own crown, and 
 ultimately his life. 
 
 The covetousness of his wife dethroned Heber ; the ido- 
 latry of Tighernonas uncrowned that superstitious King. 
 He was sacrificing to the great idol Crom-Cruach, when 
 lightning from heaven swept the diadem from his head, and 
 killed him on the spot. It would be tedious to detail the 
 causes of the fall of scores of monarchs on the Irish roll : 
 most of them had their throats cut by their successors. 
 " His reign," says O'Hallaran of one of these Sovereigns,
 
 166 MOKAECHS KETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 " lasted but five years, when the sword of his successor cut 
 his way through him to the Irish throne." Hereditary suc- 
 cession was thus put aside. Not that the principle was dis- 
 regarded. When the Picts were persuaded to leave the east 
 coast of Ireland, and seek the conquest of the islands to the 
 north, they requested a number of Milesian ladies to accom- 
 pany them, but these would not consent until an agreement 
 was made that, if the Picts conquered the islands in ques- 
 tion, the sovereignty thereof should be for ever vested in the 
 female line. 
 
 According to some writers, it was a Hugoney the GS-reat 
 who first succeeded in bringing the other Kings of the 
 Pentarchy to yield their crowns to him, or rather the right 
 of succession. They swore, " by all things visible and invi- 
 sible," not to accept of a supreme Monarch from any other 
 line than his ; and Hugoney was so elated at this addition to 
 his vain-glory, by the stripping of the same from the heads of 
 four uncrowned Kings, that he styled himself, with pleasant 
 Hibernian amplitude, " King of Hibernia and all "Western 
 Europe, as far as the Tuscan Sea." 
 
 As the spouse of Heber loved the beautiful valleys, so did 
 Maud, Queen of Connaught, love to steal cattle, and dared 
 to defend her right to do so. The famous " Cattle "War of 
 seven years " was the consequence of an extensive robbery 
 of flocks and herds, by the armies of Maud, in Louth. . In 
 this war one of the chief figures is Fergus, " a dethroned 
 King of Ulster." Where there were so many petty Kings, 
 one without a sceptre was seldom difficult to be found. It 
 was one of these who, out of revenge, invited Agricola into 
 Ireland, and offered to aid the hostile stranger in the task 
 of reducing his own country to foreign subjection. Between 
 Queens who coveted territory not their own, or who stole 
 cattle, and involved their country in a seven years' war in 
 consequence,— between these and Tarquinian Kings wooing 
 their neighbours' wives, and uncrowned Pentarchs who in-
 
 IRELAND. 167 
 
 vited invasion from an enemy, Ireland had more to suffer at 
 the hands of her own Sovereigns than most conntries. 
 
 "We have a brighter example indeed in the person of Mo- 
 ran, who refused to wear the crown w'hich had been usurped 
 by his father, and who, placing it on the brow of Peredach, the 
 rightful heir, descended from the throne, and took his seat 
 on the bench as Chief Judge. In this capacity he is said to 
 have carried a golden chain-coUar, which was afterwards worn 
 by his successors, and which squeezed their throats tightly 
 whenever they were about to pronounce an unjust sentence ! 
 It is no matter of wonder that this collar was soon lost or 
 mislaid ; but to swear by Moran's chain was a common 
 method, for many years, of aflSrming the veracity of the 
 speaker. The chain was of pure gold, worth "hundreds of 
 cows." 
 
 Not the least remarkable cause of abdication in an Irish 
 King, was that which led to the dethronement of the vigor- 
 ous Cormac Ulfadha (253). This Hibernian monarch had 
 his eye knocked out, in a skirmish, which is variously de- 
 scribed ; and the personal blemish rendering him incapable 
 of wearing the crown, he contentedly resigned his power to 
 his son. Cormac retired to a small thatched cabin at Kells, 
 where he passed much of his time in writing — prose and 
 poetry. His ' Advice to a King ' is said to have exhibited 
 foresight and wisdom ; and his poem on the number Three, 
 to have been a masterpiece of mystic unintelligibility. 
 Others describe Cormac as a miracle of wisdom and splen- 
 dour, who was choked by a fish-bone as he sat at supper. 
 The incidents of his abdication are by some writers assigned 
 to Colla Uais. 
 
 One hundred and thirty-six Monarchs of the Milesian 
 race alone are said to have reigned, and a vast number of 
 them to have been dethroned and slain, before the advent of 
 St. Patrick and the establishment of Christianity. Violent 
 deaths did not cease however after the introduction of the
 
 168 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 humanizing religious code ; nor were the expounders of that 
 code always logical in their actions. Thus, when Aidas the 
 Black, prince of the royal blood of the Irish Cruthons, had 
 torn from his throne, and then murdered, Diermot, tlie 
 Monarch of Ireland, he took refuge ia the monastery of 
 Ethica. The regicide was guilty of many other murders ; 
 but the holy brotherhood thought little the worse of him on 
 that account, and, with unanimous alacrity, they beheld him 
 ordained priest by the liberal-minded bishop of the diocese. 
 Indeed there are many evidences that, although the Irish 
 Kings were enthroned, it was the priests who governed. 
 These virtually deposed monarchy, when they destroyed the 
 Council HaU of Tara, — Tara of the Kings, where the vris- 
 dom of the nation was wont to be presided over by the Irish 
 monarch. A miu'derer had fled for sanctuary to the mo- 
 nastery of St. Euan. He was dragged thence to the King's 
 hall, at Tara, and was taken from the judgment-seat to 
 the gallows on the hiU. There he was executed. Abbot 
 and monks issued from the monastery, in pious rage, and, 
 M^alking around Tara, cursed it as they went. From that 
 day, no King ever sat on the throne at Tara ; and the victory 
 gained by the Church was perpetuated in the name assumed 
 for the monastery of Euan — " the Monastery of the Curses 
 of Ireland." From this period, the Church becomes, not 
 merely an episode in the narrative of Irish history, but " its 
 sole object and theme." The average of a King's reign was 
 about eight years ; and his violent death, we are told, was 
 often the only memorial that he lived. They did not all 
 die thus, however, with swords in their hands, or steel in 
 their hearts. Some changed the camp for the cloister ; and 
 King Neil of the Showers, — so called, because on the night 
 of his birth there fell a shower of honey, a shower of silver, 
 and a shower of blood, — died a pilgrim at lona, and was 
 buried, with three others of his uncrowned cousins, in the 
 tombs of tlie Kings, in that " Island of the Wave."
 
 lEEIiAND. 169 
 
 The Pentarcliy appears to have been revived more than 
 once, but it is even uncertain of what divisions it was com- 
 posed. Some say Munster was divided into two ; and these, 
 added to the three other provinces, formed the Pentarchy. 
 Others afiirm that Munster was not divided, but that Meath 
 was one of the portions of a Pentarchy, of which the four 
 provinces were the other parts. Dr. 0' Conner has come to 
 the most curious conclusion, by affirming that Munster ivas 
 divided; that Meath was also added, and that the Irish 
 Pentarchy consisted of six parts ! " Talis fuit Hibernorum 
 Pentarchia !" 
 
 The truth is, that the subdivisions were very numerous, 
 and the confusion all the greater. In no case however is 
 there greater confusion than in the questions connected with 
 priest and king. An instance presents itself in Piedlim, 
 King of Munster. Unutterable are the horrors told of him 
 by the ecclesiastical historians. His least crime was his 
 sacrilege ; and he was engaged in devastating the lands of 
 the Abbey of St. Ciaram, when he was encountered by the 
 Abbot. The holy man cursed the King with his lips, and 
 dealt him a blow with his staff which rendered him senseless. 
 Prom the effects of either he never perfectly recovered, and 
 he devoted his uncrowned days to penitence and the Church. 
 So different was Piedlim the recluse from Piedlim the King, 
 that his saintly biographers describe him as "the most 
 religious and learned anchorite that Erin could boast in 
 his day." 
 
 It is remarkable that some monarchs, in place of giving 
 up royalty for the priesthood, added prelatic titles to their 
 royal dignity. Thus, at an early period, two at least of the 
 Kings of Cashel were also Bishops of Emly ; and in the 
 tenth century, Cormac Mac Culinan was not only King, but 
 also Bishop of Cashel. Other instances might be named, 
 but these will suffice to illustrate a singular union of Church 
 and State in the person of the sovereign. In many instances, 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 MO?fAECHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 the Bishop was more powerful than the King; and the 
 latter title, as in the case of the barbarous nations mentioned 
 by Procopius, was often conferred on a merely successful 
 general. Occasionally the right man was found in the 
 right place, as in the cases of Brian Boru and Malachi, — 
 
 " Wlio wore the collar of gold, 
 Which he won from the proud invader." 
 
 But, for one hero we have a hundred sorry ruffians ; and 
 among the latter may be reckoned that Donchad, who, in 
 the eleventh century, after his overtlirow by his nephew 
 Turlough, retired to Eome, and spent twenty- eight years in 
 the monastery of St Stephen, where he was buried. Don- 
 chad placed the " cap," which was the royal crown, on the 
 head of his nephew ; bu^t he is also said, when at Home, to 
 have placed the same symbol at the feet of the Pope. This 
 was to siu'render his kingdom to the Church ; and this al- 
 leged surrender by an Irish monarch was the basis of the 
 right which Adrian claimed, to make over the Lordship of 
 Ireland to the English King Henry II. 
 
 Between the period of the abdication of Donchad to that 
 when Henry interfered in the affairs of Ireland, at the 
 solicitation of one Irish ex-King, the annals are only repul- 
 sive details of anarchy, cruelty, and horrible oppression. The 
 downfall of the first and last of the deposed Irish mouarchs 
 was brought about, in one case by the avarice, in the other 
 by the fickleness, of a woman. In the other instances may be 
 discovered the wickedness of the King, or the craft of the 
 Churchman, as the moving causes. Of the scores of poten- 
 tates dethroned, only one can be said to have been so with- 
 out guilt on his part. That one was Cormac of the single 
 eye, in whom a physical blemish was punished as heavily as 
 if it had been a flagrant crime.
 
 KINGS or IRELAND. 171 
 
 The liistorians of Ireland make record of many hundreds of 
 Kings, who are said to have reigned in that country, almost 
 from the period of the Flood. Of these, a great number 
 avowedly perished by violence ; — some in battle, some by 
 treachery at home, others through their own excesses. 
 Scarcely one in ten seems to have died a natural death. A 
 vast number were indeed deposed, but it was only to en- 
 counter immediate slaughter. Some writers, dismissing as 
 fabulous many of the narratives of deposed Irish monarchs, 
 name only the following four, distinguished for surviving 
 their dethronement — viz. : — 
 
 A.D. 
 
 315. CoLLA Uais, retired to Scotland. 
 721. Plaithbheartagh, became a monk. 
 782. Niall-Freassach, entered a monastery, 
 984. Daniel, also took the cowl. 
 
 1027. Brian Bortj, who defeated the Danes at Clontarf, 
 was first sole King of Ireland (by election), during 
 twelve years. His successors were 
 
 1039. Maol Ceachlin. 
 
 1048. Donough O'Brien. 
 
 1098. Tirloch. 
 
 1110. Muriartagh, became a monk, 
 
 1130. Tirloch O'Connor, the Great, 
 
 1150, Murtough M'Neil M'Lachlan, 
 
 1168. Eoger or Eoderic O'Connor. 
 
 1172. Henry II. of England conquered the country and 
 assumed the title of Lord of Ireland. Since that 
 period, eight " Governors," Custodes, or Lords 
 Deputy, down to the period of 1308, and a hundred 
 Lords Lieutenant, from Piers Gaveston to the 
 Earl of Carlisle, have administered the government 
 of the "beautiful island." 
 
 I 2
 
 172 
 
 WALES AND MAN. 
 
 "Kind Cambria, deign me good aspect, 
 To make me cliiefest Brute of Western Wales." 
 
 Geoeqe Peele : Llewellyn loquitui'. 
 
 The subject of Wales will uot, happily, require much space. 
 Although a principality "when it was annexed to England, it 
 had been, in its time, a kingdom of some pretensions ; and 
 was governed, — after the Saxons had driven the British 
 beyond the Severn and the Dee, into Cornwall or " Little 
 Britain," in France, — by four successive Kings, the last of 
 whom, Cadwalader Bheudiged (or, the Blest), dropped the 
 style of "British King," for that of "Prince of "Wales;" and 
 . having left his title to his successors, in the year 688, he re- 
 tired to Eome, and died there, under the cowl of a monk. 
 
 From this period, till the year 1281, when Wales was 
 finally incorporated with England, twenty-seven Princes 
 ruled over the little principality. Within this circumscribed 
 space, however, there was a very effervescent ambition, divi- 
 sions, and the usual sanguinary consequences. One mon- 
 arch alone died of a broken heart, but several fell in battle ; 
 and a prisoner of princely rank who fell into the hands of 
 an ambitious enemy, was sure to be further punished by the 
 loss of his eyes. Small as the principality was, it was di- 
 vided, and South Wales and Powis were made tributary to 
 North Wales. It was an easy thing to declare them depen- 
 dent, but it was not so easy to compel tribute from them ; and, 
 as if the resulting dissensions were not enough for the de-
 
 KINGS OF WALES AND MAN. 173 
 
 struction of the territory, there was further devastation at 
 the rough hands of Saxon, Dane, and Norman, Hibernian 
 and Scot. 
 
 About the year 1039, the young Fleance, who escaped 
 from Scotland and the dagger of Macbeth, was received at 
 the Court of Gruifydh ap Lhewellyn. The ungrateful guest 
 seduced the daughter of his host, and was slain for his 
 treachery. But the son born of this union ultimately re- 
 paired to Scotland, where he was created Hereditary Lord 
 Steward of the kingdom ; and it was his descendant, Robert 
 II., who, in 1870, was the first king of this race of the 
 Stewards, or Stuarts, of Scotland. Thus, the Stuarts were, 
 through the daughter of GrrufFydh, of the old British stock. 
 We meet with no other incident worthy notice till the reign 
 of David, 1170, who very unceremoniously set aside lorwerth 
 Drwyndwn, or Edward with the Broken Nose, alleging that 
 such defect rendered him incompetent. It was to avoid the 
 turmoils of a contested succession that Madawe is said to 
 have emigrated from Wales, and colonized those portions of 
 Florida and Mexico whose names seem to have a British 
 origin. 
 
 The unsettled state of the country was in nowise changed 
 because of the departure of Madawe ; and when the English 
 kings began to interfere, and to pick quarrels, on the ground 
 of ' homage ' due from Wales to England, the issue of events 
 was visible to most men. At length the end came, by the 
 defeat of Lhewellyn ap Gruftydh, an illegitimate Prince, who 
 fell in defending what was not his own, and whose head, with 
 the English banner, was fixed upon the ramparts of his own 
 tower. 
 
 The whole chronicle is sanguinary in its character ; but 
 there were some constitutional principles in the Welsh Court 
 which are woi'th mentioning. For instance, the Mead-maker 
 was the eleventh person in dignity at the Courts of the an- 
 cient Princes of Wales, and took place of the physician.
 
 174 MONAECHS ItETIEED FBOM DUSIITESS. 
 
 The rights of the King (for that title was as commonly 
 used as that of Prince) were sometimes of a curious nature. 
 There were three, touching which the law was very strict. 
 " There are three things in the Court," say the Welsh Triads, 
 "which must be commujiicated to the King, before they are 
 made known to any other person. First, every sentence of 
 the judge. Second, every new song. Third, every cask of 
 mead." The Kings were taught that the three great objects 
 of the intellect were the true, the beautiful, and the bene- 
 ficial ; — but we do not find these petty sovereigns having 
 leisure enough to pursue either. Accordingly, these for 
 the most part rapacious rulers found a place in the little 
 complimentary triad which pointed out " three things that 
 wUl always swallow and never be satisfied, the sea, a burial- 
 ground, and a king." They who censured the Kiug were not 
 however his superior in morals ; and the old national opinion 
 touching inebriety may account for the intoxication of blood 
 which affected both prince and people: — 
 
 " Not drunk is he who from the floor 
 Can rise alone and still drink more ; 
 But drunk is he who prostrate lies, 
 Without the power to di-ink or rise." 
 
 In this royal condition we often find the Kings of Wales, 
 and wide was the ruin which sometimes ensued. There were 
 two especially, who, with Yortigern, rank as the " capital 
 drunkards of the Isle of Britain." The first, Grant, King of 
 Siluria, in a drunken fit, destroyed by fire all the ripe grain 
 in his territories. Thereby he brought on a famine. The 
 other was Seithenin, King of Dimetia, who, in his intoxica- 
 tion, opened the flood-gates, whereby he destroyed sixteen 
 of the finest cities in Cambria. This last act was committed 
 towards the end of the fifth century. The eldest son of the 
 royal criminal abandoned his claim to the throne, and opened 
 a school in Caernarvonshire, where he was, for many years, 
 a highly popular instructor.
 
 KINGS OF WALES AND MAN. 175 
 
 The riotous life led at the Welsh Courts was often the ob- 
 ject of the common reproach of many who had witnessed it. 
 But there was altogether a strange mixture there of all 
 things. Of what calibre covdd a sovereign be, who was 
 gravely instructed that there were " three things which the 
 King should never divide ; his treasure, his hawk, and his 
 breeches ;" or who was as gravely reminded by bardic phi- 
 losophy that the royal porter was to have the remains of the 
 cheese toasted by him for the King's table ? And yet, in 
 some of these maxims there was marvellous wisdom, adapted 
 to the capacity of royal Welsh comprehensions. In none of 
 them is there greater profundity than in this — " There are 
 three things that are best kept closed, the mouth, the fist, 
 and the thought. And there are three that are best kept 
 open, the ear, the eye, and the understanding." AVith aU 
 this however the Welsh Princes were for ever fighting for 
 very existence, and their people were in constant antagon- 
 ism with their Princes. But perhaps it was with the two 
 as in the case described by Bishop Hacket, in which he 
 said, " Princes would overrule, and subjects would but half- 
 obey." And this is, perhaps, a fairer state of the case 
 between king and subject than that put by the New Eng- 
 land preacher, James Preeman, who very ingeniously attri- 
 buted certain alleged mistranslations in the Bible to the 
 supposed fact that " Christians at the time . . , were too 
 much controlled by kiugly authority to be able to give a 
 correct version." 
 
 But enough of a country which derives its name, we are 
 told (Wales, Galles), from King Galaad, "son of Joseph 
 of Arimathea, the gentle chevalier !" Its sovereigns had, 
 too often, adversaries in their own sons, and did not follow 
 the fashion of the Danish Kings, who, when their heirs were 
 troublesome, furnished them with a liberal allowance of 
 money, and compelled them to travel abroad till their am- 
 bition was tempered.
 
 176 MONARCnS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 The royal head in the insular kingdom of Man, was even 
 more " uneasy " than that in Wales. 
 
 The example of William of Normandy in invading Eng- 
 land was not lost on other aspiring princes of the time. 
 His expedition was imitated, on a small scale, by Godred 
 Crovan, son of Harold the Black, who, crossing from Ice- 
 land, in the year 1066, made a successful descent upon the 
 Isle of Man, and established there a new djoiasty of Kings. 
 After a reign of sixteen years, his son Lagman succeeded ; 
 but Harold, another son, headed an insurrection, and sorely 
 molested his brother for several years. At length however 
 Lagman, having captured Harold, atrociously mutilated him, 
 and then put out his eyes. Hemorse made of the monarch 
 the first unsceptred King of Man ; and Lagman, having ab- 
 dicated, assumed the Cross, betook himself to Jerusalem, 
 and died a pilgrim warrior in the Holy Land. 
 
 Subsequently, after the rude Kings of many rude nations 
 had contended for the Island, it was conquered in 1097 by 
 a sovereign who had already been deposed elsewhere. This 
 was ]\Iagnus, King of Norway, who had opened the tomb 
 of the Saint and King Olave, to satisfy himself of the im- 
 portant question of the sanctity of the holy monarch. Mag- 
 nus having found the body uncorrupted, and of so delicious 
 an odour that he could not be kept from sniffing at it for a 
 whole day, he was convinced tliat Olave was as great a saint 
 as report had made of him. That night however the royal 
 Saint appeared to him, and, as a penalty for his sacrilege, 
 submitted to him an alternative, — death within a month, or 
 exile from Norway for ever. Magnus consulted his people, 
 and these precipitately ejected him from the eoimtry. Mag- 
 nus, not being a man who could be content in a private sta- 
 tion, having lost his own kingdom, determined to seize on 
 that of somebody else ; and not lacking followers, who were 
 ready for any enterprise, he invaded the ever-coveted Mona, 
 and got possession of the miniature kingdom. He lost that
 
 KIJTGS OF WALES A>'D MAK. 177 
 
 and his life in an attempt to seize a third crown ! Having 
 a strong desire to possess himself of Ireland, he resolved to 
 pick a quarrel with Muricard, the King. To this monarch 
 Magnus sent a pair of his old shoes ; and he ordered him 
 to carry these slung round his neck, in token of subjection 
 to Man. The Irish courtiers were wild with fury at this 
 insolent message ; but Muricard, who was a pusillanimous 
 prince, answered that rather than expose his kingdom to the 
 ferocity of Magnus, he would not only wear that monarch's 
 shoes, but was ready to eat them ! This weakness did not 
 save Ireland from invasion by the King of Man. It failed 
 however ; and the grave of the royal invader is still pointed 
 out in Down by the peasant versed in traditions of the past. 
 
 Some few years after this, Eeginald, the King of the Island, 
 married his daughter to the son of Alan, Lord of Galway. 
 The proud Manxmen were so indignant at this mesalliance, 
 that they deposed Eeginald, and gave the crown to his 
 brother Olave. This is, perhaps, the only instance on re- 
 cord of deposition for such a cause. 
 
 The Scilly Islands, of which, and of Cornwall, a Saint 
 Constantino was King in the sixth century, present us with 
 the instance of an abdicated monarch turning miller ! Con- 
 stantino gave up his modest throne out of pure grief at the 
 loss of his wife ; and left his son to reign in his stead. He 
 retired to an Irish monastery, where he acted as servant 
 during seven years, carrying grain to the miU and fulfilling 
 all the duties of a miller. The monks were not aware of 
 his quahty till they heard him reveal it in a soliloquy. They 
 then took him into the house, where they instructed him 
 (litteras docent), made him a priest, and qualified him for 
 what he became at last, a Christian martyr. 
 
 I 3
 
 178 
 
 Jfraiuc. 
 
 ■ Those that were up themselves kept others low ; 
 Those that were low themselves held others hard ; 
 Ne suffered them to rise, or greater grow, 
 But every one did strive liis fellow down to throw." 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 THE MEROVINGIAN RACE AND THE 
 "LAZY KINGS." 
 
 We know little of the history of Gaul previous to the period 
 when Julius Caesar, about half a century before the Chris- 
 tian era, commenced an expedition which resulted in sub- 
 jecting the country to the Eoman dominion for nearly five 
 hundred years. 
 
 This dominion was often disturbed by the Eranks, ovfree 
 men, from beyond the eastern bank of the Ehine. Their 
 reverses did not so much discourage, as their successes in- 
 spired, other tribes. Against these the now luxurious Eo- 
 mans and the enervated Gauls struggled fruitlessly. In the 
 beginning of the fifth century, the small but triumphant 
 tribes of the Franks held all the north of what is now called 
 " France." At the opposite extremity, beyond the Loire, 
 the Visigoth chief kept his barbaric state in his capital, the 
 modern Toulouse. An independent race ruled in Brittany. 
 The Burgundian banner waved undisputed, from Geneva to
 
 THE MEROTINGIA^T EACE. 17& 
 
 tte Mediterranean. In the centre of all — all destined to 
 submit to the mastership of the savage Franks — the Roman 
 Eagle indicated that the Latiu couqixerors still held a frag- 
 ment of their ancient conquest ; and only where this sym- 
 bolic eagle continued to soar, did civilization for a season 
 longer prevail. 
 
 The wild Franks brought vdth them, or adopted, the elec- 
 tive monarchical system, and established that Salic law which 
 still excludes women from exercising the office of reigning 
 sovereigns. Pharamond, who snatched from the Gauls what 
 he had promised to protect for them agaiast the Eomans, is 
 popidarly said to have been the first King. The date of his 
 election is 420. Eight years later he bequeathed his crown, 
 and his feuds -ndth the Eomans, to his son, the long-haired 
 Clodion. After a twenty years' bloody struggle, the territory 
 of Graul was cleared of its Frankish iavaders. These how- 
 ever not only rallied under Merovee, or ]Merowig, the suc- 
 cessor of Clodion, but were welcomed hj the Eomans as 
 allies against Attila and his Huns. The victory of Chalons 
 not only saw the Hims annihilated, but rendered Merowig 
 the powerful opponent of the Eomans. The Gauls acknow- 
 ledged him as " King;" and he is the founder of the Me- 
 rovingian race, the first of the five royal d^Tiasties which 
 have successively ruled in France. The author of ' Attila' 
 quaintly says, that " U (Merovee) entra Lutece avec cent 
 mille Francs." 
 
 After a reign of ten years, he was succeeded by the disso- 
 lute and effeminate Childeric, his son, a.d. 458. Childeric is 
 the first of the sceptreless monarchs of the Franks. His 
 warlike subjects dethroned him because of his vices. After 
 breaking a coin in two with his friend Guinomard, Childeric 
 led, for a time, a wandering life. Adversity restored to him 
 some of his lost virtues ; and the Franks, who had expelled, 
 again gave him welcome, and rendered him allegiance. He 
 shook the Eomans in, or rather out of, their seats, burned
 
 180 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Treves, captured Paris and Beauvais, and, at the end of a 
 reign of twenty-three years, he left the throne to his sou 
 Clovis, or Chlodwig, the first Christian King of the Pranks, 
 It was the boast of this savage and orthodox monarch that 
 he had united several nations under one sceptre. At his 
 death he undid the little good he had effected in his life- 
 time, for he divided his extensive dominions into four, and 
 left to each of his sons a quarter to rule over. Childebert 
 I. is named as the successor in the French line of Kings ; 
 his reign of nearly half a century was one of violence and 
 bloodshed, and the sin of murder was on the soul of all the 
 sons of Clovis. The mere profession of Christianity could 
 no more civilize them, than it did their ferocious father; 
 and, on occupying their separate thrones, they imbued their 
 hands in the blood of their relatives, on whom they looked 
 as so many rivals. The successor and brother of Childeric, 
 Clotaire I., destroyed his son and all his family, by shutting 
 them up in a house to which he set fire. He was the hus- 
 band of five wives, and the death of his three brothers made 
 him entire master of Gaul. Prom this period till the death 
 of Childeric III. fourteen Kings of the Merovingian race 
 reigned, over an entire or a divided Gaul. These were, the 
 depraved Cherebert, the pedantic and savage Chilperic I., at 
 whose lame verses Pontift's laughed, and who was not more 
 pedantic than he was profligate ; Clotaire II., who was al- 
 ternately revelling in crime or howling with remorse ; and 
 Dagobert, who has minstrels' authority for being called " le 
 bon Roi." Prom the accession of his son, Clovis II., to 
 the death of the last of the Merovingians, the Sovereigns 
 of this race are called " Zes JRois faineans^^ — the lazy or 
 do-nothing Kings. There were ten of them ; they were, in 
 many respects, deposed monarchs, for their authority was 
 exercised by the " Mayor of the Palace," a powerful officer in 
 the King's household, whose ofliice was made hereditary, 
 and enabled the holder to usurp the highest perogatives of
 
 THE MEROYIKGIAN EACE. 181 
 
 the Sovereign, and finally to seize upon the sovereignty. 
 These ten Sovereigns were, — Clovis II., Clotaire III., Chil- 
 deric II., Thierry I., Clovis III., Childebert II., Dagobert 
 II., Chilperic 11., Thierry II., and Chnderic III. They 
 reigned from the year 644 to 750, but the Mayor of the 
 Palace was the real Sovereign. At the death of an old King, 
 the aU-powerful Mayor drew from a monastery his succes- 
 sor, who was ignorant of everything, save that he was a pup- 
 pet and a slave. The last of them, Childeric III., has the 
 additional appellation of the " Phantom King ;" and the 
 greater portion of his time was consumed in performing the 
 only office of which he had any knowledge, and in which he 
 took great delight, namely curling his hair and dressing his 
 beard. Gregory of Tours says of the " Do-nothing Kings," 
 that they only sat at home, and " gormandized like brute 
 beasts," showing themselves once a year perhaps to the 
 people, in state robes. The Mayors of the Palace, when 
 the office was hereditary, under the Pepins, rendered great 
 services to the nation, while serving their own ends and 
 themselves. The picture of the virtually-deposed monarch 
 is, nevertheless, one of a very sombre hue. The people gene- 
 raEy had forgotten their titular Sovereign ; he lived in some 
 retired farm, in absolute solitude and gloom, passing every 
 day listlessly, save what concerned the appetite. The 
 wretched recluse was dragged into the light on certain oc- 
 casions, and then the multitude greeted him with jeers and 
 laughter. One Mayor, Charles Martel, whose design was 
 to seize upon the throne, exhibited the half-idiotic and 
 dirty Sovereign, in this plight, to the people, on purpose to 
 increase their contempt for him. These exhibitions were 
 indeed not so much in presence of the multitude, as of the 
 army, nobles, and clergy. The populace stood by, and be- 
 held these three and the puppet King, looking at each other. 
 The sceptreless Monarch was drawn to the assembly in a 
 springless waggon, hauled painfully along by plodding oxen.
 
 182 MONARCHS RETIRED FROM BUSHSTESS. 
 
 The reluctant beasts were goaded on by a rude hind, and 
 the "lazy King " had no unbusy time of it then to main- 
 tain himself steady in his seat. He was indeed formally 
 conducted to his throne ; but, when seated there, he would 
 glance through his long hair, the symbol of his poor au- 
 thority, shyly and fearfully, like a timid and rather stupid 
 child ; he would stammer out a few words, which had been 
 taught him, with infinite pains, and he would seem half 
 scared at his own voice, as it uttered what he ill compre- 
 hended. While he sat crouching on the royal stool, his legs 
 apparently too weak to sustain him, the assembly of all 
 ranks beheld at his side the Mayor of the Palace, erect, the 
 drawn sword in his hand, fire in his eye, the seal of power 
 upon his bold brow ; and the war-loving people learned, at 
 the same moment, to despise the sorry figure on the stool of 
 state, and to respect the noble chieftain, who towered at his 
 side. Even so was it, at last, with Pepin, the son of Charles 
 Martel and Childeric III. Pepin, at length appealed to 
 Pope Zacharias. The Mayor asked the Pontiif, who knew 
 how liberally he would be rewarded if he returned the 
 answer desired by him who put the query, " Which of the 
 two is the more fit to be King — he who sits idly and pur- 
 poseless at home, or he who serves the State actively, both 
 in the battle-field and at the council-board?" The Papal 
 reply dethroned the purposeless idler, exonerated his sub- 
 jects from their allegiance, and authorized the election to 
 the throne, of an ambitious usurper, the great object of 
 whose fxmily and of himself it had been, less to serve the 
 country than to gain a crown. 
 
 Pepin was elected, at Soissons, in an assembly of the 
 people, in the year 750. The process for the deposition of 
 -Childeric was simple enough : it was only to cut off his hair : 
 as his locks fell, so fell also his right ; and the shorn man, who 
 could no longer be a monarch, was at once converted into a 
 monk. Childeric entered a monastery, where he very soon,
 
 THE MEEOVINGIAN RACE. 183 
 
 and very willingly, departed this life. He was the last of 
 a race of nineteen Kings, not one-third of whom can be said 
 to have been more than titular sovereigns. Snch was the 
 destiny of the Merovingian House. It established itself 
 A.D. 449, chiefly on the ruins of the Eoman Empire ; and it 
 was annihilated, a.d. 750, by the purchased sentence of a 
 Eoman Bishop. 
 
 It is necessary, perhaps, to repeat, that although many 
 princes of these times seem to us, on withdrawing into 
 monasteries, to disappear altogether from the world, such 
 result did not invariably follow. There was, for instance, 
 Carloman, the eldest son of Charles Martel, who resigned 
 all his possessions to his brother, Pepin, in the year 746. 
 The following year he repaired to Italy ; and in 749 the 
 ecclesiastical habit was put on him by the Pope himself. 
 Carloman took up his residence on Monte di San Silvestro 
 (Soracte), where he built a monastery. The numerous visits 
 paid to him here by Pranks, on their way to Italy, gave him 
 a disgust for the place. He followed the advice of Pope 
 Zacharias, in selecting the Benedictine monastery at Cas- 
 simo, as his residence ; and there in imagination, people have 
 beheld him, sitting on a three-legged stool, milking the 
 cows, and carrying the produce to the Benedictine dairy. 
 That the ex-ruler of Austrasia, Suabia, and Thuringia may 
 have been so engaged, occasionally, is not unlikely. Carlo- 
 man, however, had more dignified duties to perform than 
 this. He was once, at least, sent on a mission to France, in 
 order to eifect a reconciliation between Aistulphus, the Lom- 
 bard King and enemy of the Churcli, and Pepin, the friend of 
 Pope Stephen II. It is remarkable that the royal dairy- 
 man committed a falsehood when setting out on this mis- 
 sion. He reported that it had nothing to do with politics, 
 and that he was simply going to ask for the body of St, 
 Benedict, which was then reposing at Pleury, on the Loire. 
 His real mission failed, and his assumed one appeared to do
 
 184 MOKAECHS RETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 SO. Tlie priiice-monk never again reached the old pastures, 
 or drained an udder of his favourite cows. On his way 
 back to his monastery and milk-pails, he died of a fever, 
 at Vienna, in Dauphiny, — which place long thought itself 
 lucky in possessing the body of the politic but mendacious 
 Benedictine.
 
 185 
 
 THE CARLOYINGIANS, AND CHARLES 
 THE FAT. 
 
 The Merovingians held sway in France, actually or nomi- 
 nally, above tliree centuries. The Carloviugian race did not 
 enjoy sovereign power during much more than two centuries 
 and a quarter, namely from 750 to 987. 
 
 Of the twelve Kings of this race, only one suffered depo- 
 sition, namely Charles the Fat. The direct Carloviugian 
 succession was, however, twice interrupted,— in the ninth 
 and in the tenth centuries, — by the usurping Eudes, Count 
 of Paris, who succeeded Charles the Fat ; and by Eaoul of 
 Burgundy, who unseated Charles the Simple. Eudes is en- 
 rolled among the monarchs who have voluntarily resigned 
 their power. 
 
 The sovereigns of this line were, each in his way, famous 
 for some particular act. Thus, the first of them, the dimi- 
 nutive but bold and astute Pepin, the substantial friend of 
 our visionary King Arthur, conferred that temporal sove- 
 reignty on the Pope, which the Abbe Michon is now coim- 
 selling him to resign. 
 
 To Pepin, the conqueror of the Lombards, Bavarians, 
 Saxons, and numerous barbarian hordes, succeeded the 
 greater conqueror Charlemagne, who was forty years old 
 before he could read, and who exhibited more intelligence 
 than many a mere scholar. 
 
 Louis the Pious, or the Debonnaire, a son of Charle- 
 magne, was the first of his House who could pretend to
 
 186 MONABCHS EETIEED TEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 book-learning. He had less wisdom than knowledge, and 
 his division of his dominions led to the bloody battle at Fon- 
 tenay, where his sons fought for the great inheritance, and 
 Charles the Bald was left in possession of the kingdom of 
 France. It was because he was bald, perhaps, that Charles 
 usually appeared in public with a crown on his head. His 
 love of splendour was extreme, and his throne was so mag- 
 nificently brilliant that it is said to have half-blinded those 
 who looked at it. It was his son, Louis the Stammerer, 
 who by rendering the titles of his nobles hereditary, and 
 conferring on them the uncultivated lands that had been laid 
 waste by the Norman and Saracen invaders, founded the 
 feudal state of society. Of his two sons, Louis III. and 
 Carloman, little need be said, save that Louis drove the 
 Normans out of France by the sword, and Carloman invited 
 them back by giving them rich presents to keep away. 
 
 The next King, Charles the Fat, was the son of the Stam- 
 merer. He is distinguished by having been deposed for his 
 cowardice, his incapacity, and his treacherv'. He would 
 have given up his kingdom to the Normans ; and his army 
 and people deprived him of his crown, and drove him into 
 exile, where he shortly after died. They raised, to the dig- 
 nity forfeited by Charles, the great enemy of the Norman 
 invaders, Eudes, Count of Paris. But Eudes, after a ten 
 years' enjoyment of sovereign power and of much glory, was 
 seized with remorse at the idea of being a usurper, and did 
 France the ill-ofiice of making over the crown to another 
 son of the Stammerer — Charles tlie Simple. Of the tenour 
 of the life of Eudes, during his unsceptred condition, no- 
 thing more is known than that remorse accompanied it, — 
 
 " And ebbing life, on terms severe as those, 
 Would have its little lamp no longer fed." 
 
 The Norman soldier, who, pretending to kiss the foot of 
 Charles the Simple, lifted the King's leg so liigh as to tum-
 
 THE CA.ELOTINGIAKS. 187 
 
 ble him backwards from his seat, represented the condition 
 of the French monarchy in a sort of acted charade. Between 
 the Normans and the independent Barons, who had left no- 
 thing to the King but an empty name, Charles was helpless 
 and contemptible. And yet he reigned during thirty-one 
 years. That term was closed by his being decoyed to the 
 castle of Peronne, where his death soon followed on his de- 
 position. His son fled to England, of which his mother was 
 a native ; but he was called to the throne after the interreg- 
 num of Eaoul, who was at the head of those who had de- 
 posed Charles the Simple. 
 
 The conspicuous feature in the reign of the fourth Louis 
 (Louis d'Outremer) is the armed alliance, the first on re- 
 cord, between England and France ; and in consequence of 
 which a fleet was despatched by Athelstan to support the 
 weak King of France against his enemies, the most power- 
 ful of whom were among his own subjects. Under the latter 
 years of his son, Lothaire, the country enjoyed some tran- 
 quillity ; but the kingly authority was degraded, priests and 
 barons possessed all the privileges of independence, invasion 
 had desolated the land, and the people were in abject misery. 
 The young King Louis V. succeeded to his painful dignity 
 under the guardianship of the political chief, Hugh Capet, 
 and, in little more than a year, the last and weakest of the 
 Carlovingians expired at Compiegne. Louis leaving no heir, 
 Hugh Capet seized the sceptre ; but he underwent the for- 
 mality of submitting his pretensions to the nation, and, as 
 he was acknowledged King by that nation, in so far as its 
 voice was expressed by an assembly of the nobility, the 
 House of Capet possessed no legitimate right to the throne, 
 its founder owing his dignity solely to popular election.
 
 188 
 
 THE HOUSE OE CAPET, AND LOUIS THE 
 SAINT. 
 
 " II vaut mieiix etre heiu'eux qu'etre Eoi." — St. Louis. 
 
 Hugh Capet associated liis son Robert with him in the 
 Government in the year 987 ; and from the accession of Ro- 
 bert to the death of Charles the Fair, the last of the direct 
 line of Capet, in 1328, are reckoned thirteen Kings. 
 
 The continued power of the nobles and the unsceptred 
 condition of the Kings is well illustrated by an incident in 
 the life of Hugh. " Who made thee Count ?" asked he of 
 one of his Lords. " The same power that made thee King," 
 was the proud reply. 
 
 That the aristocratic was not the solitary power against 
 which these early unkinglike Kings had to contend, is fur- 
 ther proved by the great incident in the life of Robert, 
 namely his excommunication. The accepted notion is that 
 Robert the Wise fell under the anathema of the Church, 
 because he refused to put away from him (at the order of 
 the Pontiff) his cousin Bertha, whom he had married. Ro- 
 bert however was stripped for a season of his kingly power 
 for other offences, added to, rather than because of, his al- 
 leged crime in espousing his cousin. He was a religious, 
 but not a superstitious, monarch. He was afflicted at the 
 knowledge that his subjects, after swearing on some most 
 sacred relics in the capital, accounted little of breaking their 
 oaths. He found a remedy against this evil in removing
 
 THE HOUSE OF CAPET. 189 
 
 the relics, and placing the egg of an ostrich within the 
 shrine. He thus saved them, not from mendacity, but sacri- 
 lege. The relics were not outraged, but conscience was 
 violated. The Church would not have troubled itself on the 
 matter, but for the fact of the unlicensed removal of the 
 holy objects. Eobert was looked upon as profane. 
 
 The King moreover had offended the Church in another 
 way. When Robert reached Rome as a pilgrim, he left 
 upon the altar a sealed paper. The clergy did not doubt 
 but that it "was the gift of his kingdom. AVhen he had de- 
 parted, they eagerly opened the packet ; but they found no- 
 thing therein, save a copy of a hymn, of which the royal 
 minstrel was the author. They abused the verses and the 
 poet ; and prophesied that evil would fall upon a Prince 
 who thus trifled with the Church. 
 
 The prophecy was fulfilled when Eobert declined to di- 
 vorce himself from his cousin Bertha. For the first time 
 the French saw their King pronounced accursed, and them- 
 selves released from their allegiance. The excommunicated 
 sovereign was left in almost utter solitude. Of all his house- 
 hold, only one or two had the courage to adhere to him ; but 
 even thet/ looked upon their unhappy master as being so far 
 removed from humanity, that of the remains of the food of 
 which he had eaten, they would not themselves partake, but 
 flung the remnants of the royal repast to the dogs. No one 
 would transact any business with him ; he could neither 
 enter a Church, nor partake of the Sacraments. He was 
 universally sliunned ; and, proud as he was, he was fain to 
 recover his sceptre by setting aside his consort, and recon- 
 ciling himself to the Church by submitting to its will. 
 
 No monarch of the direct line of Capet suffered deposi- 
 tion. The power of the nobility was still greater than that 
 of the sovereign under Henry 1., the son of Eobert. Henry's 
 son, Philip I., was as powerless as his sire. Thenceforward 
 however the royal authority grew daily stronger, and Louis
 
 190 MONAECHS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS. 
 
 YI., the Fat, owed this result to the support he met with 
 from the priestly estate against the nobles. His son, the 
 Seventh Louis, was as pious as such ecclesiastical allies 
 could desire ; but it was his son, the renowned Philip Au- 
 gustus, who may be considered as the most glorious and 
 perhaps the most ruthless of the Capetian Kings. Of the 
 next monarch, Louis VIII., his proudest boast was his briefly 
 maintained conquest of all England, save Dover Castle ; 
 while of the Ninth Louis, the principal trait in the royal 
 character is the religious fervour which, united with martial 
 zeal, drove him into the great Crusade, and into that ex- 
 pedition against Egypt which made of him the prisoner of 
 the Saracens. 
 
 The fortunes of a King in a foreign land were probably 
 never so low as those of Louis in 1250, when he consented 
 to surrender Damietta to the foe, and the latter demanded 
 his own person as hostage for the fulfilment of that to which 
 he had consented. ""We will all perish," exclaimed Sir 
 (xeoffrey de Sergines, " before it shall be said that we put 
 our King in pawn !" 
 
 The Crusaders were in galleys on the Nile, or h'ing 
 wounded and helpless on the banks, where many were mas- 
 sacred by the Saracens. All who were able took to flight, 
 to the great anger of the King, who was himself suftering 
 from dysentery. Louis had a good knight or two with him 
 when he was assailed by the Turks. The boldest was Sir 
 Gi-eofirey, who " defended the King in like manner as a faith- 
 ful servant does the cup of his master from flies." Sir 
 (reoftrey succeeded in getting the King into Casel, but in 
 such deplorable condition, that when Louis was carried into 
 a house, and his head placed " in the lap of a woman who 
 had come from Paris," every one thought that his last hour 
 liad arrived. 
 
 His condition, however, improved ; but he fell captive into 
 the hands of the Moslemin, who ofiered him his liberty, on
 
 THE HOrSE OF CAPET. 191 
 
 condition of the surrender of certain strong places in the 
 Holy Land. Neither the gallant King nor his valiant knights 
 would agree to purchase freedom on such terms. They 
 threatened to put him to most exquisite torture ; but this 
 moved him to no more than the expression that he was 
 sceptreless in their hands, and they might do with him as 
 they pleased. Finally, he consented, under oath, to furnish 
 lialf a million of francs for the freedom of his captive 
 knights, and to surrender Damietta as the purchase of his 
 own liberty ; " for he was of a rank whose bodily ransom 
 could not be estimated by the value of money." The Sultan 
 was so pleased that his royal prisoner did not haggle upon 
 the pecuniary clauses of the treaty, that, not to be exceeded 
 in generosity, he of his own free will diminished the amount 
 of ransom-money by a fifth. 
 
 The King was on board his galley, with three others in 
 company, laden with knights, and bound for Damietta, when 
 a sudden revolution among the infidel foe, caused by a 
 quarrel touching the King's ransom, cost the Sultan his life. 
 A Saracen came on board the King's vessel, his hands 
 reeking with the blood of the Sultan, and asked a reward 
 for having slain the King's greatest foe. " But the good 
 King St. Louis made no answer whatever to his demand." 
 
 The newly-constituted authorities compelled their royal 
 captive to engage to pay 200,000 livres before he quitted 
 the river, and the remaining 200,000 in Acre. None of the 
 stores in Damietta were to be given over to the King till 
 this sum was paid. Louis took the oath enjoined of him, 
 namely, that if he broke the convention, he wished he might 
 be deprived for ever of the presence of God, of His worthy 
 Mother, of the Twelve Apostles, and of all the Saints of 
 both sexes in Paradise. They asked of him another vow, 
 to the effect that, if he broke his word, he should be ac- 
 counted perjured, — as a Christian who had denied God, his 
 baptism, and his faith, and, in despite of God, would spit on
 
 192 MONARCHS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS. 
 
 tlie Cross, and trample it underfoot ; — but this oath the King 
 stoutly refused to take. The Saracens attributed his refusal 
 to the pestilent council of the Patriarch of Jerusalem, whom 
 they accordingly bound and tortured in the King's presence, 
 till, the holy man's sense of pain getting the better of his 
 scruples, he imploringly urged the captive monarch to swear 
 to anything without fear, as he would take the entire re- 
 sponsibility of the blasphemy and perjury on his own patri- 
 archal head. It is not clear whether the oath was taken 
 in order to relieve the suffering patriarch ; we are only told 
 that the Saracens were satisfied with the pledges given by 
 Louis and his lords. The King was probably resolute, and 
 did not take the second oath. His obstinate piety won the 
 respect even of his enemies, who remarked that, " if their 
 Mahomet had allowed them to suffer the manifold evils that 
 God caused the King to undergo, they would never have 
 had any confidence in him, nor paid him their adorations." 
 
 Whatever was the form in which the promise of the royal 
 prisoner was made, he kept to it right loyally. The infidels 
 were less faithful, both to their principles and their captive. 
 The Saracens got disgracefully drunk in Damietta, and when 
 in this state, had wellnigh gone from their word, and slain 
 the King, and all with him who were within their power. 
 They found good authority for their crime, and discovered 
 excellent profitable results that would arise from it, by giving 
 it a religious colouring. Their own Prophet had enjoined 
 them to break pledge with and slay an enemy, when it was 
 for the security of the faith. Now Louis was the great 
 enemy of their religion ; to kill him therefore would be an 
 act of piety, and one of compensation for their having mur- 
 dered their own orthodox Sultan. 
 
 Such a catastrophe however did not occur. Louis jDaid 
 the ransom-money he had promised to furnish, and that so 
 strictly, that when a Christian knight laughingly told the 
 King that the Saracens, in weighing the money, had made
 
 THE HOUSE OF CAPET. 193 
 
 au error of 10,000 livres to their own loss, Louis flew into a 
 rage, and peremptorily ordered that the sum named should 
 be sent to his mi scale vilating enemies. 
 
 Full twenty thousand Saracens conducted the monarch 
 from his pavilion before Damietta, to the shore off which 
 rode the Genoese galley, which lay waiting for him. There a 
 picturesque incident occurred. On board the quiet -looking 
 vessel, there appeared but one man, who, the moment he 
 saw the King, whistled, and, instantly, fourscore crossbow- 
 meu, well equipped, with their bows bent and arrows placed, 
 leaped on the deck, from below. The Saracens no sooner 
 saw them, when, panic-struck, they ran away like sheep, and 
 not more than two or three stayed with the King. 
 
 The season was that just after the Ascension, in the year 
 1250, when, after his brief but stringent captivity, the 
 royal prisoner became, once more, a free and nobly-served 
 monarch. 
 
 With the Queen, Avho had only recently given birth to 
 the little Prince John Tristan, who, just twenty years after, 
 died at Tlmis, Louis departed for Acre. "Although he had 
 suffered," says De Joinville, "such a variety of woes, his at- 
 tendants, when he embarked, had not made any preparation 
 for him on board, such as robes, bed, bedding, and other 
 necessary things. He was thus forced, for six days, to sleep 
 on mattresses, until we arrived at Acre. The King had not 
 any other habiliments but two robes which the Sultan had 
 caused to be made for him ; they were of black silken stuff, 
 lined with squirrel-skins, with a number of golden buttons." 
 
 One consequence of the imprisonment of St. Louis, and 
 of the hard life he led in Palestine, was the entire loss of 
 his hair. This tradition has made of the royal crusader the 
 patron saint of hair-dressers ! One of those vivacious writers 
 in France, at whom pompous dullness sneers, affecting to 
 believe their liveliness odious, — Leo Lespes, — has preserved 
 the legend which ascribes the baldness of Louis to his un- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 MOKAKCHS EETTEEP FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 sceptred period. "When the saintly King, we are told, ar- 
 rived in Prance, to resume the government of the country, 
 the Queen Blanche was astounded at beholding him bald, 
 and she meditated deeply upon the inconveniences which at- 
 tended an expedition within the territory of the infidels. 
 The author just cited thus recounts what followed : — 
 
 "Iseult," said the Queen to her lady-in-waiting, "have 
 you seen the King of France ?" 
 • " I assisted at the rejoicings for his return." 
 
 " Did it not strike you, my sweet friend, that the head of 
 his Majestj^, my lord and husband, was wofully shorn of its 
 curls ?'' 
 
 "If I may venture to say so to my royal mistress," re- 
 plied Iseult, " his Majesty's head might look better in that 
 respect than it does at present." 
 
 " Our bald kings have never been lucky," said Blanche, 
 " and it iU-befits a sovereign that he should be not better 
 provided with flowing locks than a mendicant at the gates 
 of ISTotre Dame. It shall never be said that Louis, our well- 
 beloved consort, went about with as little hair on his crown 
 as a monarch retired from his vocation and shut up in a 
 cloister. Let us implore the aid of Our Lady, who wiU sug- 
 gest something that shall efficaciously relieve us all in our 
 difficulty." 
 
 The legend-writer does not venture to affirm that the suc- 
 cour thus prayed for was vouchsafed. Nevertheless, if the 
 story may be credited, the wit of Queen Blanche provided 
 her consort with a wig, in which he looked as bold as Samson 
 and as curled as the son of Clinias. By this incident the 
 perruque was popularized in Trance, and St. Louis became 
 the patron of " artists in hair." 
 
 After recovering his liberty, his passion for crusading 
 never died within him. A score of years after this inci- 
 dent, Louis died of dysentery, before Tunis, calling on St. 
 James, St. Denis, and St. Genevieve, to aid him in his dis-
 
 LOUIS THE SAINT. 195 
 
 tress. Nothing could be further removed from the pomp of 
 sceptred monarch than his dying scene. " He ordered his 
 body to be placed on a bed of ashes, and, crossing his hands 
 on his breast, with eyes uplifted to Heaven, rendered his 
 soul back to his Creator, at the very same hour that our 
 Lord Jesus Christ expired on the Cross for the sahation of 
 His people." 
 
 The Third Philip, son of St. Louis, and called Philip the 
 Hardy, because he successfully resisted the influences of a 
 climate which were fatal to his father, was less heroic when 
 exposed to reverses, and he died of disappointment at the 
 failure of his expedition against Spain. His son, Philip 
 (TV.) the Pair, was the great persecutor of the Templars ; 
 and Louis X., the Hutin, is remembered for the harshness 
 with which he sought to extend the privileges of the sovereign. 
 This Louis was succeeded by his two brothers, — by Philip 
 (V.) the Long, and next by Charles the Fair. Three brothers 
 thus succeeded each other, and on the death of the last there 
 was a change of dynasty. Twice, subsequently to the ac- 
 cession of these three Capetian brothers, has a similar suc- 
 cession occurred in Prance, and with similar consequences. 
 Three brothers closed the direct line of Capet; three bro- 
 thers terminated that of Valois ; and with the last of three 
 brothers was extinguished the reigning House of Bourbon ! 
 
 k2
 
 196 
 
 THE HOUSE OE VALOIS. 
 
 KING JOHN IN THE SAVOY. 
 
 " L'Ambitieux est en prison sur le globe ; le corps est la prison de 
 Tame." — De Mottetille. 
 
 The Capet race has not indeed ceased : the family of Va- 
 lois is simply a branch of the vigorous tree. Philip III., 
 besides his sou Philip IV., had a sou named Charles of 
 Valois. This Charles had a sou named Philip, who now 
 ascended the throne as the next male heir. He was op- 
 posed by our Edward III., on these grounds : — Philip IV. 
 had a daughter, Isabel, who was married to Edward II., and 
 was the mother of Edward III. The latter claimed the 
 Preuch throne through her. The Salic law however ex- 
 cluded females from the throne, and although Edward was 
 nearer to Philip IV. than his competitor, he was so only 
 through his mother ; and as his mother had no right to the 
 throne, she could not bequeath to her son what she did not 
 herself possess,— what she never could possess. 
 
 The long reign of Philip of A^alois was spent in those 
 bloody contests with Edward which laid the foundation of 
 the bitter animosity which once reigned for so long a period 
 between England and Prance. Philip was succeeded by 
 John, his son, a gay, tyrannical, unjust king, who has some- 
 how acquired the name of " The Good." The war caused by 
 the disputed succession continued, and with such effect that 
 one of the results of the battle of Poictiers was to make an
 
 KING JOHN IN THE SATOT. 197 
 
 uncrowned monarch of John, for a time, and the prisoner 
 of England. In this captivity we will briefly exhibit him to 
 our readers. 
 
 To the son of a deposed monarch we are indebted for some 
 of the details of the captivity of John, King of France, in 
 England. The Duke d'Aumale, son of Louis Philippe, disco- 
 vered the documents, which he has published in the ' Trans- 
 actions of the Philobiblion Society,' among the archives of 
 the House of Coude. 
 
 At the battle of Poictiers, fought five hundred years ago 
 (1356), John exhibited more courage than ability, — more of 
 the soldier than the general. He fought on, after liis nearest 
 of kin, save his brave young son Philip, had deserted him; 
 and when at last he was compelled to yield to numbers, the 
 crowd of knights so thronged round him to claim the ho- 
 nour of his capture, that he would have fared ill but for the 
 courteous interference of the gallant Prince of Wales. 
 
 The Black Prince conducted his royal prisoner to Bor- 
 deaux, where John was surrounded by a brilliant but cap- 
 tive Court. Edward III. spoke of him only as " our adver- 
 sary of Erance," but he was universally treated as a King. 
 Some of the most loyal of his own subjects took care that 
 he should want fiji- nothing. At the first intimation of 
 John's capture, his Lieutenant- General in Languedoc for- 
 warded to him ample stores of provisions, also of plate to 
 eat from with dignity ; and the States of Lauguedoc con- 
 sented to tax themselves, — that is, resolved to levy imposts 
 on the people, the produce of which was forwarded to the 
 grateful King. 
 
 The northern portion of France, which had most suffered 
 from the war and felt most acutely the losses of Crecy and 
 Poictiers, cared less for the King, whose indiscreet valour 
 had dragged the country into misery. There, a weak Ee- 
 gent, and a scanty and feeble nobilitjr, could not rule a peo- ■ 
 pie who burned to repel the invaders, and who were begin-
 
 198 MO:SAECIIS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 ning to understand their own position, its value, and its 
 rights. Nothing was done therefore for the release of John, 
 whose presence in Prance rather impeded the free action of 
 his adversary, Edward. Orders were consequently issued 
 for the transfer of the French King to England. On the 
 Llth of March, 1357, John, and a splendid company of fel- 
 low-prisoners, embarked at Bordeaux, and, under the guar- 
 dianship of the Black Prince, sailed for Sandwich. The il- 
 lustrious party did not reach the ancient haven till the 4th 
 of May, and then were glad to take some days' repose on 
 shore, before they proceeded to Canterbury, to make their 
 offerings at the shrine of St. Thomas. At Canterbury a 
 deputation from the citizens of London greeted or consoled 
 the captive monarch on his arrival. Three weeks, save one 
 day, elapsed between the disembarcation of John at Sand- 
 wich and his entry into London. The august prisoner was 
 conducted to the palace of the Savoy, in the Strand, the 
 residence of the Dukff of Lancaster. Immediately after his 
 arrival there, he was visited by the King and Queen of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 The Savoy was his ordinary, but not his constant, resi- 
 dence, for nearly two years. He was a frequent visitor at 
 "Windsor, and made excursions to other parts of the coun- 
 try. At this time, he and his companions were but nomi- 
 nally captives ; for, on their verbal pledge, the King, and 
 they who shared his destiny, were permitted to go and come 
 freely, to hawk, to hunt, and to enjoy all manner of sport, 
 according to their good pleasure. The Duke d'Aumale thus 
 describes the royal prisoner at this period : — " John was not 
 yet forty years old. He was courteous, affable, liberal to 
 excess, not given to care deeply, and, by his amenity, had 
 gained the surname of ' The Good.' Troubling liimself but 
 slightly as to the misery of his country, and much too yield- 
 ing in all negotiations respecting peace, he loved, above all 
 things, pleasure and physical exercise. Accordingly, horses,
 
 KING JOHN IN THE SATOT. 199 
 
 dogs, and liawks occupy a large space in the book of his 
 household accounts ; but we also find, although only rarely, 
 some record of purchases of books, and of small outlays 
 made for binding. Thus he gave 4 sous 4 deniers for the 
 ' Eoman du Eenart ;' 28 sous 8 deniers for the ' Eomans du 
 Lohereuc Grarin ;' and 10 sous for the ' Eomans du Tournoie- 
 ment d' Antechrist.' 32 sous are set down as given to ' Mar- 
 garet the bookbiudress' (j-elieresse), for putting an entirely 
 new cover and four clasps to ' a Bible in French.' James 
 the binder receives 3 sous 6 deniers ' for binding one of the 
 chapel Breviaries, putting new boards to the same, covered 
 Avith rose-coloured skin, and for ornamenting and cleaning.' 
 An ornamental addition of brass-headed nails to the ' Eo- 
 mans de Guiller' costs 29 deniers. King John had also, 
 among his valets-de-chamhre, a distinguished painter, Girart 
 d' Orleans, whom he had previously employed, in 1356, on 
 the decorations of the castle of Yaudreuil, in JS'ormandy." 
 The household accounts show that, during the King's cap- 
 tivity, the painter wrought for the monarch in more than 
 one branch of art. Girart painted pictures, made chessmen, 
 and ornamented furniture. The most conspicuous items in 
 the royal account-book, however, are for the extraordinary 
 toilet-expenses of the young " Sires of the Fleur-de-Lys," 
 as the French Princes of the Blood were called. These 
 items show that the King's young sons, Philip of Prance 
 and " Maisti'e Jehan le Pol," were not at all insensible to 
 the charms of outward appearance. 
 
 The Duke d'Aumale very correctly judges that the cou- 
 rage and general character of the captive King made him a 
 favourite vsdth tlie English barons. Customs and language 
 were common to both, and courtesy was as naturally ac- 
 cepted as it was heartily given. It was substantial of cha- 
 racter, as when the doughty Sir John Chandos sent four 
 hares to the King ; and when even the fair Countesses of 
 Pembroke and AYarren addressed to the captive sovereign
 
 200 MONARCHS RETIKED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 baskets of venison, game, and fisli, tlie Duke anxiously bids 
 us beware of scandal ! There was no barm meant, be says. 
 If John was something like his Spanish namesake, for loose 
 gallantry, Lady "Warren was half a hundred years old, and 
 the Countess of Pembroke was older still ! 
 
 The Duke is disposed to believe that John, who saw much 
 of Isabel, the widow of Edward II., during the first year of 
 his detention, made the acquaintance of these ladies at the 
 Court of the Dowager Queen. The latter exhibited great 
 regard for her cousin of France. " She received the King 
 at her table," says the Duke d'Aumale, "and we even see 
 that, to relieve his weariness, she lent him the two most 
 famous romances of the period, 'Saint Graal' and 'Lance- 
 lot.' The Count of Ponthiou, the Sire d' Aubigny, Seneschal 
 of Toulouse, the Marquis d'Audenham, and the Count of 
 Tancarville, figure among the Queen's most frequent visi- 
 tors ; and the facility with which they went to see her, in 
 her residence at Hertford, is one of the best proofs of the 
 liberty which they enjoyed." 
 
 The liberty of all the prisoners was diminished after the 
 death of Isabel, in 1358. The engagements to which John 
 subscribed, in order to recover his freedom, were not rati- 
 fied by the French Regent and Grovernment : and Edward, 
 either out of vengeance, or fear that his involuntary guest 
 should escape, put much constraint on the action of John. 
 In December, 1358, he ordered the latter to be transferred 
 to the castle of Somerton, in Lincolnshire. The wine for 
 the use of the English guard had already been forwarded, 
 and the King's baggage was upon the point of starting, 
 when counter-orders Avere issued, and John remained in the 
 palace of the Savoy, and was not gratified by invitations to 
 sojourn at Windsor. Eoger of Beauchamp, with sixty-nine 
 men, had charge of the royal prisoner. 
 
 On the other liand, John was solaced by agreeable visitors 
 from his own land. These were nobles who travelled with-
 
 KING JOHN IN THE SAVOT. 201 
 
 out let or Mndrance from either Frencli or English, aud 
 who came over, not only to inquire after the King's health, 
 and to make oiFer of themselves and estates, in order to 
 purchase his deliverance, but, on one occasion at least, to 
 present him with a tribute of silver, " very considerable for 
 the period, and which realized in London not less than 
 £1,268. 14.S. 9 J." The reasons why this contribution was 
 most acceptable, are thus enumerated by the Duke d'Au- 
 male. " Since the King's departure from Bordeaux his re- 
 sources had become very limited, and he was very much 
 embarrassed in providing for the current expenses of the 
 six departments of his household, for the maintenance of 
 his officers and servants, and the modest gifts made at 
 Easter and at the festival of St. John, and which were the 
 substitutes for salaries. There were divers extraordinary 
 expenses of his little Court, which he cou^ld not meet with- 
 out difficulty. Eor this purpose he received nothing from 
 Edward III. ; but the latter subsequently made claim to be 
 paid the exjDenses of keeping his captive, which he set down 
 at 10,000 reals per month. John had had recourse to loans, 
 made on burdensome conditions of interest, but this was 
 only at first : they were not renewed at a later period, either 
 because the difficulties of negotiation had increased, or that 
 the financial position of the King enabled him to renounce 
 those ruinous operations." 
 
 The latter and better reason would seem to have worked 
 the happy result. The Duke enters into lengthened details 
 in pleasant proof thereof; and from these we learn that 
 " good round sums " were occasionally conveyed to the King 
 from loyal folks in France ; and that the produce of new 
 subscriptions and old debts came in very sparingly indeed, 
 so sparingly that John had often to write and stir up the 
 slackening enthusiasm of his friends and the slumbering 
 morality of his debtors. We further learn that John dab- 
 bled a little in trade, and made some profit on the sale of 
 
 k3
 
 202 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 wines and horses. The jolly and generous chapters of 
 Languedoc sent him n;ore of their country wine than he 
 could drink ; and he disposed of the superfluity to such 
 advantage, that he ordered his agents to purchase various 
 sorts of French wine, which the good King sold in London 
 at a handsome profit. His agents in the English capital 
 for this purpose were Sir John Stody, vintner and Lord 
 Mayor; Adam de Bury, skinner, and subsequently chief 
 magistrate ; and Henry Picart, famous for his entertain- 
 ment to the Kings of France, England, Scotland, and Cy- 
 prus, and who, albeit a Grascon, is said to have been at the 
 head of tlie London municipality in the year 1356. 
 
 John remained in close custody in the Savoy down to 
 April, 1359 ; he then signed the preliminaries for a treaty 
 of Peace, and was transferred, a prisoner, to that castle of 
 Hertford where he had been the welcome guest of Queen 
 Isabel. He was still in confinement there when he learned 
 that the Dauphin, his son, had definitively refused to adhei'e 
 to the treaty concluded at London. The Duke d'Aumale 
 designates such refusal as sagacious and patriotic, but adds, 
 that it was a severe shock to the French King, who ex- 
 claimed, on hearing of it, "Ha! ha! my fair son Charles, 
 you take counsel with the King of Navarre, who deceives 
 you, and would deceive forty such as you." But the seeming 
 disloyalty of Charles to his captive father was true loyalty 
 to his country, and the course adopted by the Dauphin was 
 universally approved, although it kept his sire in durance. 
 
 Tlie refusal further increased the severity of his durance. 
 Edward III. made vast preparations for renewing his ill- 
 authorized assault against Prance, and he peremptorily or- 
 dered the dismissal, out of the kingdom, of thirty-five of 
 the French followers of John, — among them Gaus de la 
 Buigne, who held the threefold post of chaplain, poet, and 
 falconer. The servants of the other prisoners were also 
 sent away. The household of John and his son Philip was
 
 KIXG JOIIK 1^ THE SATOT. 
 
 203 
 
 reduced to a score of persons. The royal captive energeti- 
 cally protested against the degradation, and he obtained an 
 addition of nineteen individuals. Among these were Tassin 
 de Breuil, his tailor; Girart of Orleans, the multifarious 
 artist ; and a person who is named Jean de Milan, but who 
 was not so noble as the sound of the name would seem to 
 imply, for he was only "John of the Kite," and was the 
 falconer of Philip, the King's son. 
 
 After a four months', residence at Hertford, the Erencb 
 King, with a diminished " state," was transferred to Somer- 
 ton. The monarch wa"s under the ward of Sir William 
 Deynecourt, who had in liis train three knights, twenty-two 
 men-at-arms, and twenty archers, under wbicli escort John 
 arrived at the castle of Somerton on the 4th of August, 
 1359, and was respectfully welcomed by the constable, Sir 
 Henry de Greystock. 
 
 No longer could the friends of the monarch gain access 
 to him, from beyond sea, as before. Even his private secre- 
 tary, Jean de Eoyer, who had been on a mission to Paris in 
 May, was unable to approach the castle without a special 
 permission. This permission was obtained only on condition 
 that some servant within the castle should be dismissed in 
 exchange for the secretary: in consequence the minstrel 
 Sauxonnier was discharged, and the prison was made all the 
 more gloomy for want of his excellent music. 
 
 Soon came a report from beyond sea that the Prench were 
 preparing to enter England, for the purpose of rescuing 
 their monarch. This report was the cause why John of 
 Buckingham and Ealph Sigournel received orders to escort 
 " our adversary of France" to Berkhampstead. Before this 
 could be executed, news reached Loudon of the partial de- 
 struction of Winchelsea by a body of French ; and the Eng- 
 lish Government, in some alarm, ordered the removal of 
 John to the metropolis. The other prisoners were confined 
 in different castles, but the French sovereign was brought
 
 204 MOKARCHS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS. 
 
 up to the Tower, where, on the 28th of March, 1360, he 
 was placed under the safeguard of John and Eoger of Beau- 
 champ. 
 
 Within two months, however, Edward III. was well con- 
 tent to sign the Peace of Bretigny. A week after this im- 
 portant act was accomplished, on the 15th of May, 1360, 
 an usher of the Queen of England announced it to John, 
 who, in his excess of satisfaction, conferred on the messen- 
 ger a right royal gratuity. The satisfaction was rather 
 over-hastily entertained, for the King's release was to be 
 obtained only at the price of 600,000 gold crowns. John 
 enjoyed however at once a comparative freedom ; there was 
 no constraint upon any of his actions. His subsequent 
 course is thus told by the ducal chronicler. 
 
 " On the 30th of June, John set out for Dover, where he 
 arrived on the 6th of July. On the same day Edward III. 
 sent to him, as a mark of friendship, the goblet which he 
 himself ordinarily used ; and John, in return, forwarded to 
 Edward his own (Jianajy) drinking-vase, which had belonged 
 to St. Louis, and had always been preserved as a relic. The 
 next day but one John disembarked at Calais ; there he re- 
 mained above three months ; but even that long delay would 
 not have sufficed to get together the sum demanded by 
 Edward without a sad expedient, which was adopted under 
 compulsion of circumstances. Matthew Galeas Visconti(sic), 
 Lord of Milan, offered to put down immediately 600,000 
 florins, if the hand of Isabella of Prance, tlie King's daugh- 
 ter, was accorded to John, the son of Matthew (sic). This 
 bargain was concluded ; and, according to the energetic ex- 
 pression of Villani, John sold his own flesh in order to re- 
 cover his liberty." 
 
 The work of the Duke d'Aumale, referring to the capti- 
 vity of the French King John in England, has been published 
 since M. Douet d'Arcq printed the journal of the expenses 
 of the King during the last year of his imprisonment. This
 
 KING JOHK IN THE SATOT, 205 
 
 journal (the lost pages of whicli have been discovered, and 
 published, by the Duke) is now in the Imperial Library, 
 Paris, and its contents are illustrative of a portion of the 
 social history of the period. 
 
 Thiis we find that, when John left Somerton, what remained 
 of his property there was sold ; and in the journal, among other 
 receipts acknowledged by the chaplain, Denys de Collors, 
 who was also a notary and Comptroller of the Household, 
 is " 20d. from the Damoiselle de Namby for a couple of 
 chairs." An esquire of Somerton is put down as paying 4^. for 
 two barrels of wine ; other sums are received for various 
 articles of furniture, stable materials, or wine. William 
 Spain, of Lincoln, got the King's bench for nothing, William 
 having been a purchaser of many articles ; and a fourth of 
 the wood and wine was gallajitly given to " the Lady Dain- 
 court," wife of the baronet who had the honour of exercis- 
 ing his vigilance over the King. The wine account shows 
 altogether that the sovereign was a vintner driving a re- 
 spectable business. 
 
 The " ordinary" and extraordinary outgoings of the last 
 six months of the year 1359, amount to little more than 
 £1000. In the following six months, the combined ex- 
 penses exceeded " £5020. 15s. Qd., ob derive Poictevina," of 
 which more than a fifth is under the date of June, 1360, 
 when the King was preparing for his departure. Among 
 the extraordinary expenses there occur, — loaf-sugar at I7d. 
 per pound, and brown at only 2d. per pound less ; 9^!?.-worth 
 of eggs for clarifying sugar, and 8s. 8d. for roses, bought at 
 difierent places, for the King's use. Tailors are paid 8d., 
 and their varlets 5d., per day, with horse-money between 
 London and Hertford. Considerable sums are laid out in 
 fine clothing ; and £24. 13*. is the sum given for '• 10,972 
 bellies of minniver" for a furred suit for his Majesty the 
 King. The expenses under this head show that John was 
 not indiff"erent to dress : nor was he indifferent to the com-
 
 206 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BFSINEaS. 
 
 fort of those who had shared his captivity, and were ordered 
 to leave England before he himself was set free. We find 
 £109. ISs. Ad. given to thirty-five disbanded followers to help 
 to carry them to France. And then, on Snnday, the 28th 
 of July, the day before he left Hertford for Somerton, there 
 was paid to " the curate of Hertford for the daily offerings 
 of the King, for twenty-nine days in July, 4*. lOd., — just two- 
 pence per day. But this was a formal gift. There are entries 
 of larger sums to the priests, who, it is to be hoped, were only 
 the stewards of the poor. Good sums too are laid out in 
 " sweets and spices." Pierre de Belle Assise receives 12d. 
 for "two quivers of paper." Single " nobles" are duly put 
 down in the accounts as presents for various services. In 
 November, 2*. are paid for four pairs of shoes for the illus- 
 trious Prince " Jehan le Pol;" and in December, about 
 the price of half-a-dozen pair of shoes, namely a crown, or 
 3s. 4id., is given " to the bishop and to the parish clerks of 
 Aremby, who, on the eve of St. Nicholas, came to the King's 
 residence and sang ^rffo latides.'^ The hiring of a house at 
 Lincoln for the autumnal quarter, including expenses for 
 work done, is entered at IGs. Sundry alms and " daily of- 
 ferings" to "the curate of Boby," and others, with 12d. to 
 an English varlet who had foimd the strayed hawk of " my 
 lord Philip," bring the expenses of the year to a close. 
 
 In January of the year follovnng, among the usual out- 
 lays for sj)ices, sweets, edible ginger, dress, etc., we are not 
 sorry to find great honour rendered " to the king of the 
 ministrels, for the fashion of the new eulogy made by him 
 on the King, at the royal command, three nobles, worth 
 20s." A quarter of tlie same sum is entered as "secret 
 alms;" and at the close of February, the usual total of the 
 2d. per day for offerings at church throughout the month, is 
 duly registered by the ecclesiastical and legal book-keeper. 
 Then the King of the Minstrels is so well pleased with the 
 price paid to him for the workings of his muse in the praise
 
 KING JOHK TS THE SATOT. 207 
 
 of the royal JohB, that he strikes the lyre again, raises his 
 song of eulogy anew, and is once more rewarded with 
 "nobles." The church-ofFering too is increased on Good 
 Friday, the 3rd of April. In honour of the day, John, we 
 find, gives three crowns, or 10*., instead of the ordinary 2d. 
 There is also to be marked an entry of 585. for the removal 
 of the King's organs from Somerton to London for their 
 repair, and for their setting up. This sum includes " ISd. 
 to a man who blowed for three days ;" very good pay, for it 
 was the price of a pair of shoes per day ! The King of the 
 I^Iinstrels too was especially busy this month; and we come, 
 with some surprise, upon a record of 3^. id. being given to 
 him, not for " building the lofty rhyme," but for taking cer- 
 tain carts wherein to bring the Bang's "harness." Porter- 
 age appears to have been heav\% and even a captive king's 
 household and harness were not removed for nothing. But 
 at length the monarch is safely lodged at London, in the 
 Tower ; but it is in April, and the winds are cold, and 29^. 8d. 
 axe paid to Denys le Lombart, for making and repairing 
 four windows in the King's apartment. Eleven shillings are 
 laid out for furnishing a kitchen-garden, wherein the herbs 
 and vegetables give promise of very excellent soups and other 
 dishes. In May, the " curate of the Castel of London " de- 
 mands his Easter dues for the King's household within 
 the Tower ; and the reverend gentleman receives them accor- 
 dingly, in the shape of a couple of nobles, or IBs. 4d. Half 
 that sum was sent to the neighbouring hospital of St. 
 Katherine's, — the site of which is now occupied by St. Ka- 
 therine's Docks; — and these and smaller charities having 
 been provided for, the large sum of BSs. 4<d. was expended 
 on Master Girart, for a " chaiere neuve necessaire" for the 
 King. His Majesty must have found movement on the 
 Thames somewhat costly, for he paid 3 nobles, or ^Os., for 
 being rowed from London Bridge to Westminster, where 
 he visited the Queen, stayed to sup with his hostess, and
 
 08 MONARCHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 was tlien rowed back. It cost him only a noble less to be 
 " pulled" over the river from the Tower to Bermondsey and 
 back (whither the King went to ride or to pray). He gave 
 the same sum to a servant of Madame de Pannebroc (the 
 Countess of Pembroke) after dining with that noble lady ; 
 and altogether he seems to have been generous to all sorts 
 of persons who in any way rendered him service. The 
 priests appear to have received the most. John never visited 
 a confraternity without leaving behind him pleasant sums to 
 increase the good cheer, or enlarge the charity, of the re- 
 verend brotherhood ; and to those who brought him letters 
 from France secretly, a service of some danger, he flung his 
 " nobles" with a generous hand. 
 
 On the last day of June, the French monarch set out 
 from the Tower for France. The itinerary is as illustrative 
 as the book of accounts. The first day's journey ended at 
 Eltham. At the end of the second day (Wednesday, the 1st 
 Jidy) we find him at Dartford, fifteen miles from London ; 
 on the third, he started, after dinner, and reached Rochester ; 
 on the fourth day he dined at Sittingbourne, and supped and 
 slept at O spring ; on the Saturday he dined at Canterbury, 
 and slept there. The Sunday was spent in travelling from 
 Canterbury to Dover, which place he left on the Wednes- 
 day following, and thence crossed to Calais. 
 
 Poor as he was, and in debt for his ransom, he scattered 
 crowns by the way. There were varlets on the road, who 
 brought him venison from KingEdward; priests, who received 
 visitors at shrines ; landlords of inns, who claimed for imagi- 
 nary dilapidations ; knights, like "MessireHichard Lexden," 
 who had turned hermits, and received all gifts presented to 
 them; nuns, who met the King and prayed for alms; monks, 
 who poured into the high-road from distant convents, and 
 asked for contributions as the sovereign rode up; grooms and 
 lacqueys ever craving, mountebanks, varlets, and even "a man 
 of Dover, called the climber, who, in the 3{!ing's presence,
 
 KIXG JOHK IN THE SAVOY. 209 
 
 climbed up the face of the rock in front of the hermitage at 
 Dover,"— all these had their hands extended, and went away 
 with them well filled. The value of the jewels which John 
 left on the shrine of St. Thomas of Canterbury (on the 
 morning of the day when he broke one of the command- 
 ments by travelling), is not named ; the money-offering 
 amounted to "ten nobles," which, says the account-book, 
 " is equivalent to £33. Gs. 8f/." This miscalculation leaves 
 us in doubt whether John really gave ten nobles or a hun- 
 dred. It was most probably the latter sum, which is equi- 
 valent to the pounds named above ; for the King gave twenty 
 nobles to several less noted communities than that which 
 gathered round St. Thomas's shrine ; and even the climber 
 up the rock at Dover was rewarded with a gift of five 
 nobles, or 38s. 4d., which was much more than the King be- 
 stowed on the niuis of St. Augustine at Canterbury, and 
 half as much as the amount bestowed by him on the Car- 
 melites of Sandwich and the nuns of Norgate. 
 
 The passage to Calais has already been noticed. There 
 only remains to be stated that, three years later, John was 
 again in England a voluntary prisoner. His son, the Duke 
 of Anjou, one of the hostages for the duly carrying out the 
 treaty of Bretigny, had broken his word by returning to 
 France. John gave out that he himself was about to repair 
 to England, in prder to engage the King to join with him 
 -in a crusade against the infidel. It was believed that he 
 came to repair his honour, injured by the faithless act of his 
 son, and which John sought to re-establish by means of a 
 falsehood. Men who knew him thoroughly, were disposed to 
 believe that caprice alone directed him to the scene of his 
 old captivity. Before setting out for England, he made the 
 fatal present of Burgundy to his gallant son Philippe ; and 
 on the 8th of January, 1364, he embarked at Boulogne. 
 He was magnificently received in England by Edward III. 
 During three months there was an uninterrupted festival in
 
 210 MO>'AECHS EETIKED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 honour of a King who seemed to have uncrowned himself 
 for honour's sake, but who loved the gaiety, the ease, and 
 the freedom from business which he enjoyed in England. 
 He had forgotten crusade and country, and was in the full 
 career of ever-varying and never-ceasing pleasure, when ill- 
 ness overtook him, and indeed overcame him. After a brief 
 but severe indisposition, he died, at his old residence in 
 the Savoy, on the 8th of April, 1364. " He was regretted 
 in England," says the Duke d'Aumale, "where he enjoyed 
 himself, and had many friends ; but he was little regi-etted 
 in France, where his personal qualities could not cause the 
 faults and disasters of his reign to be forgotten." 
 
 John was succeeded by his wiser son, Charles V., a power- 
 ful antagonist against the English who imjustly laid claim 
 to his crown. The next Charles (VI.) was the poor idiot, 
 whose imbecility however may be less laid to his own fault, 
 than to the trials to which he was s.ubjected by those allied 
 as well as by those opposed to him. Charles VII., who had 
 ruled the State during the closing period of his father's 
 insanity, was not more formidable to the victorious English 
 than his father, in whose reign our sires fought and won the 
 battle of Agincourt. But Charles VII. found what he lacked, 
 in that immortal Maid of Orleans, to whom he was ungrate- 
 ful, the Church most cruel, and the English flagrantly un- 
 just. The sou of the Seventh Charles, Louis XL, was one 
 of those Kings who wisely account that no subject is beneath 
 their notice, and who made state-craft accomplish what war 
 might not so easily have achieved for him. If Ms son, 
 Charles VIIL, was less brilliant of intellect, it was because 
 Louis had purposely brought him w]) in ignorance. His 
 cousin and successor, Louis XII., was the first Duke of 
 Orleans who became King of France. He, too, dying with- 
 out male heir, was succeeded by a cousin, Francis I., son 
 of Charles of Valois, the incidents of whose reign are well 
 known. In that of his successor, Henry II., England lost
 
 KING JOHN IN THE SATOT. 211 
 
 the last foot of land wliich she had held in France ; but 
 no Englishman passes before the bust of the great Guise, 
 in the market-place of Calais, without rendering him that 
 homasre which is due to a brave man who serves his coun- 
 try. The three sons of Henry II. succeeded him on the 
 throne ; and again, after the succession of three brothers, 
 the sceptre passed into the hands of heirs of another Hne. 
 The three last Monarchs of the House of Valois, were, the 
 feeble Francis II., who reigned, amid religious troubles, 
 little more than a year ; Charles IX., who could not get rid 
 of religious troubles by the massacre of the Protestants, 
 whom he was taught to look upon as the great troublers of 
 the time ; and Henry III., who was not indisposed to treat 
 fairly with the Reformers. Henry slew Guise for opposing 
 him in his designs, and was himself slain by a monk, the 
 knife belonging to whom saved religion, ruined a royal house, 
 killed a Catholic King inclined to deal justly with the Pro- 
 testants, and raised into his place a brilliant but apostate 
 Prince, who gave up Protestantism tliat he might wear a 
 Catholic croTVTi, and whose conversion was illustrated by his 
 remark that " Paris was worth a Mass." Under such truck- 
 ling spirit was the accession of the Bourbons effected, in 
 the person of the brave but over-lauded Henri IV., in the 
 year 1589.
 
 212 
 
 THE BOURBONS AND CHARLES X. 
 
 " He who knew the weight of a sceptre, would be the last man to pick 
 one up." — Seletjctjs. 
 
 In the Court of the Valois monarchs there was ever an 
 enemy to the reigning sovereign. The Bourbon Kings were 
 not without adversaries in their own council-chambers ; but 
 they, for the most part, had the good fortune to possess able, 
 though sometimes unscrupulous, ministers. At the side of 
 " Henri IV." we see the great Sully. The most glorious inci- 
 dent of this reign was the passing the Edict of Nantes (1598), 
 which rendered Protestants almost equal with Catholics in 
 the eye of the law. The most fatal catastrophe was the 
 murder of Henri, in 1610, as he was about to put in force 
 his great project for the humiliation of the House of Austria. 
 By the side of Henri's weak son, stands Cardinal Biche- 
 lieu, who was really King in France, and was just such a 
 master as France needed. He crushed the Protestants, 
 made the sovereign independent of the aristocracy, and was 
 on the point of humbling Austria, when he died. The help- 
 less Louis soon followed his renowned minister, and left the 
 crown to his infant son Louis XIV. The great minister 
 who appeared during the King's minority, was Cardinal 
 Mazarin ; and low as were some of his tastes, and despicable 
 as was much of his policy, the glory of France was height- 
 ened by his system of administration. He may be said to 
 have bequeathed to the reigning monarch, the most success- 
 ful minister ever possessed by a sovereign, the incomparable
 
 THE B0UEB01*rS. 213 
 
 Colbert. The cost of the glory of this reign however made 
 France bankrupt. The once invincible armies of the Gh^and 
 Monarque were unequal, at last, to the task of achieving the 
 objects of their master's ambition. The Revocation of the 
 Edict of Nantes (1685) scattered ruin and deatb among the 
 Protestants. The people generally were under the heels of 
 a heartless King and a proud and cruel aristocracy ; and 
 when Louis died, after a reign of seventy-two years (1715), 
 be left the crown to a grandson of five years of age, and the 
 regency of the kingdom to be fought for among his beirs. 
 The latter fell to the Duke of Orleans, who abused his ab- 
 solute authority, and ultimately consigned to Louis XV., — 
 when that Prince attained his majority, — a kingdom nearly 
 irretrievably ruined, and to the kingdom, a sovereign who 
 neither knew how to redeem it from ruin, nor cared to make 
 tbe glorious attempt. At tbe end of a reign of fifty -nine years 
 (1774) commenced the accession of three brothers, and the 
 downfall of a dynasty. Louis XVI., within twenty years from 
 his coronation, sufiered a violent death in the presence of 
 an exulting people. Then ensued the era of the guillotine, 
 which destroyed its thousands, followed by the period of 
 Imperial " glory," which annihilated its hundreds of thou- 
 sands. And this was succeeded by the Restoration, which 
 brought to the throne, in 1814, that Louis XVIII. who had 
 been above twenty years in exile, and who, seeing that his 
 brother Chai-les, Count of Artois, must be his successor, 
 and remembering the fatality that had twice ensued on the^ 
 succession of three brothers, proclaimed himself as the in- 
 heritor of his nephew, the Daupliin, who had been slowly 
 murdered in the Temple, and who was enrolled among the 
 Prench Kings by the title of Louis XVII. After a tem- 
 porary dethronement, caused by the return of Xapoleon 
 from Elba, Louis recovered his power by foreign aid, in 1815, 
 and, at the end of nine years, — years of good intentions, 
 but inefiicient results, — his brother Charles X. succeeded to
 
 214 MOIs^AECHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 an inlieritauce touching whicli Louis had besought him to 
 act with prudence, that it might descend to the next heir of 
 the Bourbon line. The warning voice was unheeded, and 
 from the last of three royal brothers the crown of the 
 Bourbons passed, in 1830, to the line of Orleans. 
 
 In this rapid outline, the great fact of the establishment 
 and overthrow of an Imperial dynasty in France has been 
 only incidentally alluded to. Some details of the life of 
 Napoleon, and of his unero\^Tied brothers, will be found in 
 a succeeding Chapter. What follows refers to the period 
 after the dethronement of Charles X. The history of Louis 
 XVIII., in his first exile, is' not the history of a monarch 
 retired from monarchical responsibilities ; he had not then 
 undertaken them. Neither was the history of his sojourn 
 at Grhent, between the return of Napoleon from Elba and 
 the Battle of Waterloo. At that period Louis still acted as 
 King of France ; was acknowledged as such by the AUied 
 Powers, and by his ministers participated in the acts of the 
 Congress of A'^ienna. 
 
 Before proceeding to notice the deposed monarchs of the 
 House of Bourbon, it may be observed of the French Re- 
 public, that it not only killed its own ex-King, Louis XVL, 
 but encouraged its agents in foreign courts to insult the 
 reigning sovereigns. Thus, in the case of the able but not 
 respectable Trouac, — his obstinate refusal to take off his 
 hat when presented to the King of Naples, was rewarded by 
 the approbation of his Government, and the appointment 
 of their turbulent agent to the ambassadorship to the Cis- 
 Alpine Republic. Their feeling with respect to Kings spread 
 however to other countries. In England, for example, the 
 toast of Williams, the bookseller at Cowbridge, was " The 
 three securities of Liberty : — All Kings in Hell, the door 
 locked, and the key lost !" This sentiment delighted the 
 French republicans, whose monarchical fathers, be it said, 
 were not slow in ridiculing the monarchy of other coun-
 
 THE BOUEBOXS. 215 
 
 tries. Thus the AUrion was an heraldic invention of the 
 French, to insult the empire. It represented a spread eaglet 
 without beak or feet. 
 
 The period between the restoration of the Bourbons, in 
 1815, and the deposition of Charles X. in 1830, has been 
 called the " Comedie de quinze ans." The dinouement of 
 this comedy was brought about by Charles himself, who 
 gave to it the air of a tragical catastrophe. He signed the 
 decrees v>-hich abolished the liberty of the press, on the 25th 
 of July, and then quietly sat down in his apartment at St. 
 Cloud to play at whist with his family and household. The 
 Parisians read the decrees which put them in bondage, and 
 they resolved to spoil the King's game, and abolish the 
 royalty of the Bourbons. 
 
 Charles and his son, the Dauphin, although it was summer- 
 time, went the next day, the 26th of July, to hunt the stag 
 in the forest of Eambouillet. The old palace, in the forest 
 there, has a gate beneath whose archway has passed the 
 funeral of many a King of France. Charles seemed as if 
 he had come to gaze at the scene whence his royalty was to 
 be carried out to be buried. He returned moodily to St. 
 Cloud, played his " whist," and was astonished to hear that 
 Paris was uneasy. 
 
 By half-past nine the following night, — Paris having in the 
 meantime hoisted the tri-coloured flag on the Tuileries, in 
 the sight of the Duchess de Berri, who witnessed the dis- 
 agreeable fact through a telescope, from St. Cloud, — eight 
 royal carriages, and some hired coaches, deposited at the 
 gates of Eambouillet the fugitive King and a part of his 
 terrified family. They were weary, travel- soiled, and hungry. 
 Provisions were procured only with great difficulty ; and 
 when the half-satisfied monarch had concluded his modest 
 repast, and bade "good night" to those aroimd him, it was
 
 216 MONARCIIS BETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 with the air of a man who was apologizing for having, by 
 his great obstinacy, brought them into a dilemma from which 
 there was no escape. 
 
 There was a respectable armed force to guard their slum- 
 bers, but there was no commissariat. By dawn the next 
 morning the defenders had considerably decreased in num- 
 bers, — appetite being stronger upon them than loyalty. 
 
 The King grew more depressed and more apologetic in 
 his manner. When the Duchess of Angouleme arrived, to 
 join him in his flight, he begged her pardon with touching 
 importunity. He could propose no plan to avert the great 
 calamity which was beginning to overwhelm them ; his weak- 
 ness of mind partook of imbecility, and he displayed his 
 fatuity by expressing his confidence in the Duke of Orleans. 
 
 On the first of August, Charles and his family reviewed 
 their diminished army. They felt that it was a force which 
 could not help them, and under compulsion of circumstances, 
 and fear of being captured or massacred by a mob from the 
 capital, Charles abdicated ; his son, the Dauphin, renounced 
 the succession, the Duke de Bordeaux was proclaimed as 
 Henry V,, and the Duke of Orleans was Lieutenant- General 
 of the kingdom. 
 
 The Lieutenant- General peremptorily refused to under- 
 take the guardianship of " Henri Cinq ;" and Commission- 
 ers were sent down to Rambouillet, whose mission it was, 
 gently but surely, to " push " the entire Bourbon family 
 out of France. This was effectually done. The troops with 
 Charles could or would do nothing in his defence. Into 
 some half-dozen carriages were squeezed the ex-monarch, his 
 family, and various faithful followers. As the last vehicle 
 drove from the gates, the lowering of the white flag of the 
 Bourbons proclaimed them politically dead ; and it was ob- 
 served, that the Dauphin appeared at the funeral of his own 
 greatness and that of hh house, as if he had been an indif- 
 ferent spectator.
 
 THE BOUEBOXS. 217 
 
 The exiles had with them few objects for their persoual 
 comfort ; and they voluntarily left behind them the crown 
 jewels, by means of which they might have satisfied many a 
 want. The immense multitude which had come down from 
 Paris to press their departure, returned to the capital, and 
 announced, by the turbulent joy and disorder of their march, 
 that the royalty of the Bourbons was defunct. 
 
 The latter did not make their way to the coast unaccom- 
 panied or unhonoured. The remnant of the royal guard 
 did not cease their service till they had seen the King safe 
 into Maintenon ; and it was only at Valogne that the faith- 
 ful Gardes-du-corps folded their banners, placed them in 
 the hands of their old master, and were disbanded. In the 
 best, and that but a poor, room of the indifferent inn at 
 Valogne, the ex-monarch, too ill to repair to the church, 
 heard Mass. No overthrown Greek Emperor, cloistered up 
 in the monastery for unsceptred monarchs, could ever have 
 heard Mass with more simple accessories around him. The 
 Duchess of Angouleme performed the office of acolyte, 
 waited on the priest, and led the responses. Tlie Psalm 
 was eminently appropriate throughout, from the first verse, 
 " May the Lord hear thee in the day of trouble ; the name 
 of the God of Jacob defend thee !" to the end, " Save, Lord ; 
 and hear us, O King of Heaven, when we call upon thee !" 
 
 Heluctantly and mournfully the exiles went on their way 
 to Cherbourg, many of the Gardes-du-corps attending on 
 them to the last. The " Great Britain " and the " Charles 
 Carroll " were in waiting to receive them. The rather rude 
 people of Cherbourg were not permitted to approach the 
 place of embarcation ; and when the commissioners autho- 
 rized by the provisional government to "watch" the ex- 
 King to the coast, prepared to accompany him on board, 
 they were compelled to forego their intentions by the ener- 
 getic protest of the Duchess of Angouleme, who reminded 
 them that their authority was limited to the soil of Prance. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 MOKARCHS BETIHED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 The King then passed on, supported by his son. The Count 
 de la Rochejacquelin gave his arm to the Duchess d'Angou- 
 leme. The old Vendean Baron de Charette led the Duchess 
 de Berri ; and he is said to have whispered to her, by the 
 way, a suggestion which led to the spirited but unlucky en- 
 terprise of the Duchess in La Vendee. 
 
 The two Araerican vessels then stood out to sea, demon- 
 strations of deep feeling being, exchanged between those on 
 board and many. friends who lingered on the shore. As they 
 crossed the Channel, a French brig of war watched the way 
 they took ; and it was said that the commander had orders 
 to fire into either of the vessels should an attempt be made 
 to land the illustrious freight on any part of the coast of 
 France. 
 
 Twelve days had been consumed in the weary journey, of 
 some fourscore leagues, between Eambouillet and Cher- 
 bourg. Seven more days and nights were passed at sea, ere 
 the wayfarers had passed through Weymouth, and thence 
 arrived at Lulworth Castle, near "Wareham, where the de- 
 vice of the "Weld family, of whom they were the guests, re- 
 minded them that nothing happened without Divine permis- 
 sion : Nil sine Numine. 
 
 Here they all changed their designations, and Charles X. 
 became henceforward Count of Ponthieu. The Duke d' An- 
 gouleme took the title of Count of Marne ; the Duchess de 
 Berri that of Countess of Eosny ; and her son, the so-called 
 Henri V., assumed the title, which he still wears, of Count 
 of Chambord. 
 
 Almost the first occupation of the ex-King in the house 
 of Cardinal Weld was, " whist," as if he would quietly re- 
 sume the rubber in which he had been interrupted at St. 
 Cloud. His son played at billiards. The Princesses worked, 
 and read religious books. An idea of attempting to re- 
 cover the sceptre tliat had beim lost or flung away, was 
 entertained for a moment, and then dismissed, by all but
 
 THE BOUEBONS. 219 
 
 the Duchess de Berri. And so the time wore ou, till the 
 30th of October, when the old monarch embarked at Poole 
 for Scotland ; soon after which the exiles were once more 
 united under the melancholy roof of the gloomy palace at 
 Holyrood. 
 
 They occupied this residence during two years, saving 
 about a month. The adjacent city scarcely knew of their 
 presence, so retired were their lives. Charles studied the 
 history of the Stuarts, and he might occasionally be seen 
 slowly riding, on horseback, in company with the Duchess 
 of Angouleme ; or, seated in the same company, in a hired 
 carriage, progressing slowly and silently through the pictu- 
 resque environs of the Scottish capital. 
 
 The French Grovernment, however, thought that silent old 
 man still dangerous to its stability, and this uneasy thought 
 led to the withdrawal of Charles from Scotland, in the au- 
 tumn of 1832, and to his residence at Prague, the capital of 
 Bohemia, where Austria had granted him an asylum and 
 hospitality. 
 
 His residence was in that time-honoured palace, the Hrad- 
 schin, where his time was divided between reading, exercise, 
 attendance at church, and whist. The only occasion there 
 which wore a holiday air was when " Henri V." attained the 
 completion of his thirteenth year, — the 27th of September, 
 1833. That is the age at which the " majority" of Kings 
 of France, in the olden times, was fixed ; and the advent of 
 that period brought many a legitimate pilgrim to the legiti- 
 mate shrine which alone he acknowledged. It was about 
 this period that Chateaubriand visited the country resi- 
 dence of the old King, at Burschtirhad. Charles was ill, but 
 slumbering. " Charles X.," says the author of 'Bene,' "was 
 in bed, suffering from fever. It was night when I was per- 
 mitted to enter his chamber ; a solitary and small lamp was 
 burning on the chimney-piece. All that I could hear in the 
 prevailing gloom was the breathing of the thirty-fifth suc- 
 
 I. 2
 
 220 MOKARCIIS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 cesser of Hugli Capet. My good old King, your slumber 
 was an uneasy one ! Age and adversity — ponderous night- 
 mares — were seated heavily on your breast." 
 
 Three years and a half were passed at Prague. They were 
 not unhappily spent. The ex-King looked well in his plain 
 attire, and lived socially and regularly. His sole study was 
 that of history : it taught him patience, he said. He took 
 long walks, alone ; occasionally in company with the Duchess 
 of Angouleme ; and often have these two entered some vil- 
 lage chiirch on their way, taken their place on the lowest 
 bench among the people, and shared in the afternoon ser- 
 vice, which they were never known to miss during the whole 
 period of the King's exile. 
 
 The dinner was a cheerful meal. The evening which fol- 
 lowed it was a tranquil, rather than cheerful, evening. The 
 Princesses worked, while the ex-King walked to and fro, 
 talking as he went, or pausing to receive some stray visitor 
 who occasionally presented himself. At eight, the whist- 
 table was prepared, where the tranquillity of the evening was 
 not disturbed, unless Charles found himself with an indif- 
 ferent partner. He could lose a crown by his own fault, 
 without great reluctance; but to lose a trick, by the stupidity 
 of his partner, was beyond his patience. 
 
 His equanimity was only temporarily ruffled, and then he 
 was full of redundant apology. The rubber over, there was 
 much ceremony in the breaking-up. His son kissed his 
 hand, and altogether the "good night" was of stately for- 
 mality. The monotony must have pressed heavily on Charles; 
 for more than once, on taking leave of his gentlemen, and 
 the few followers who shared his exile, he would exclaim, 
 "Farewell, good friends ; there is one more day got through!" 
 He was occasionally to be seen at Toplitz or at Carlsbad, to 
 whose medicinal springs he resorted, in search of the vigour 
 which was never to be restored to him. With such slight 
 exceptions, he continued at Prague till the 8th of May, 1836,
 
 THE BOTJEBONS. 221 
 
 when he left it for Goritz, out of motives of delicacy. The 
 new Emperor of Austria, Ferdinand, was about to be crowned 
 in Prague, as King of Bohemia: Charles thought the spectacle 
 of a deposed monarch would be but a sorry sight for an Em- 
 peror and King. Accordingly Charles and his household 
 left Prague on the day above-mentioned, amid a public de- 
 monstration of respectful sympathy. The ex-King was de- 
 pressed, but he recovered himself by effecting a joke, after 
 his fashion. M. de Montbel rode with him, and to this 
 faithful gentleman Charles remarked, "Montbel, do you 
 know that you accumulate in your own person the offices of 
 Eirst Gentleman of the Chamber, Captain of the Guards, 
 and Chief Ecuyer ? I was never before struck with the in- 
 ordinate character of your ambition !" 
 
 Circumstances divided the royal family for awhile, ere 
 they were reunited at Goritz. On the King's way thither, 
 with the Duke of Bordeaux, the latter was attacked by 
 brain-fever, at Budweis, and the old monarch nursed the 
 young Prince with unremitting care, and ultimate success. 
 Charles had entered his eightieth year before he reached his 
 last asylum. The anniversary was celebrated at Liuz. The 
 friendly congratulations offered him were many, and he re- 
 sponded to them cordially, — but mournfully concluding with 
 the words, " Brief will be the period, my loved friends, be- 
 fore it will be your mission to carry to the grave all that is 
 mortal of this old man." 
 
 His assurance was well founded. Erom the day he took 
 up his residence in the castle of Graffenburg, above Goritz, 
 in the autumn of 1836, he may be said to have rapidly de- 
 cayed, without at first exhibiting any alarming symptoms of 
 the fact. His mind attuned itself to the body ; not that it 
 decayed, but that it encouraged the entertaining of the idea 
 of death. On St. Charles's Day, the 4th of November, that 
 body was stricken with chill, while the King was at Mass. 
 He was unable to attend the little banquet held in his
 
 222 jMonarchs ketired erom business. 
 
 honour, bat lie appeared in. the drawing-room in the even- 
 ing, and terrified all who were there by the solemn change 
 which seemed to have come over him. The shadow of death 
 was upon him. He was attacked by cholera ; and so rapid 
 was the course of the disease, that, before morning, the re- 
 commendation made to him to partake of the Sacrament was 
 accepted by him as the sentence of death, which he had not 
 yet looked for. He received it with dignity ; forgave all his 
 enemies, without reserve ; spoke with the eloquence of sin- 
 cere feeling to "his children;" confessed himself a great 
 sinner ; conversed hopefully of the world to come ; heard 
 rather than assisted at the celebration of Mass, and, on the 
 evening of the 5th, smiled on his son, and seemed in such 
 smile to take a general farewell. " At one o'clock, on the 
 morning of the 6th, the King was lying motionless and pain- 
 less. A feeble light was in the room, and three persons were 
 about his bed. M. Bougon, the medical adviser of the King, 
 was looking on with tlie melancholy passiveness of one who 
 is conscious that in the hand of man there is no succour. 
 The Dauphin was bending over the calm face of his father. 
 At the King's feet stood the Dauphine, her hands convul- 
 sively clasped. As the clock on the chimney-piece struck 
 the half-hour, M. Bougon made a sign to the Duke de Blacas, 
 who whispered low in the Dauphin's ear. The Prince im- 
 mediately, with trembling hands, reverentially closed his fa- 
 ther's eyes, and the hitherto suppressed sobs of the Dau- 
 phine, now irresistibly bursting forth, announced, unmis- 
 takably, that all was over."* 
 
 Such was the end of the last of the Bourbon Kings who 
 had reigned in France. He was entombed, on the 11th of 
 November, in the convent of the Franciscan monks at Goritz, 
 with a ceremony that befitted royalty rather than his exiled 
 condition. A royal crown lay on the funeral car on which 
 he was borne to the grave ; and upon the old stone which 
 
 * ' Filia Dolorosa, or Memoii-s of the Duchess of Angouleme.'
 
 THE BOURBONS. 223 
 
 covered the vault (that of the ancient Barons of Thurm) 
 there were found engraven " two sceptres covered with^«?Mr*- 
 de-lys''' part of the armorial bearings of the baronial house, 
 and fitting emblem above the gi-ave of the King whose cofiin 
 bore the assurance that within it lay " the most high, most 
 mighty, and most excellent Prince, Charles, Tenth of the 
 name, by the grace of God King of France and Navarre." 
 It has been remarked, that " Sometime King" would have 
 been a graceful emendation of this somewhat too highly- 
 pitched legend. 
 
 The Capetian race, — beginning with Hugh Capet, in 987, 
 and terminating with Charles the Fair, the third of three 
 brothers who successively occupied the throne in 1328, — con- 
 sisted of fourteen Kings, whose reigns extended over three 
 hundred and forty-one years. The House of Valois reckons 
 thirteen Kings, from PhiUp VI. (1328), to Henry III., the 
 last of three royal brothers (1589), a period of two hun- 
 dred and sixty-one years. The Bourbons, from Henri IV., 
 in 1589, to Charles X. (the successor of two brothers), de- 
 posed in 1830, comprise seven Kings, and a period (deduct- 
 ing the twenty-two years of the liepublic and Empire, 
 1792-1814) of two hundred and nineteen years. To neither 
 of these races can be applied the lines in Victor Hugo's 
 ' Contemplations,' which say, 
 
 " lis sont, tel est la loi des hauts destins, penchant, 
 Tea semblables, soleil ! leur gloire est leur coucliaut : 
 Et, fier Niagara, dont le flot gronde et lutte, 
 Tes pareils : ce qu'ils ont de plus beau, c'est leui* cliute."
 
 224 
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE. 
 
 " C'est le clioix de la nation qui met le sceptre entre les mains du 
 Eoi." — Massillon. 
 
 Ir the era of the Bourbon restoration was a fifteen years' 
 "comedy," the reign of him who succeeded was of that 
 species of melodrama in which ignoble farce is mixed up 
 with much that is dignified, and which concludes with a 
 tahleau, as confusing to the sight as it is to ovir ideas of 
 justice, political or otherwise. 
 
 Eighteen princes have borne the title of " Duke of Or- 
 leans." Nine were of the House of Valois, and nine of the 
 race of Bourbon. The first on whom the title was conferred 
 was Philippe, second son of Philippe VI., born in 1336. He 
 was well known in England for the gay life he led here, when 
 hostage for the ransom-money still owing by his brother King 
 John. He died of his excesses. The second Duke, Louis 
 (father of the celebrated Dunois), was murdered. Charles 
 was the poetical Duke whom we captured at Agincourt, 
 and who passed a long imprisonment of a quarter of a cen- 
 tury in England. The fourth Duke, Louis, was the first 
 who wore a crown ; he was Louis XII. of France. The next 
 Duke was killed ; the succeeding two died early ; the fourth 
 perished, a moody maniac ; and the fifth was assassinated. 
 These last three were also the last three Kings of the 
 House of Valois. 
 
 The first Bourbon Duke of Orleans, son of Henri IV., 
 died before he left the nursery. The next, Gaston, was the
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE. -25 
 
 most contemptible of any who wore the same title. The 
 father of the Eegent, and the Regent himself, were as de- 
 serving of execration for their vices, as Gaston was of con- 
 tempt. The fifth of this branch was a gentleman, who, at 
 least, died with decency. The sixth resembled the Eegent 
 in his vices rather than in respect to talent. " Philippe 
 JEgahte surrendered his title out of flattery to, or fear of, the 
 Eepublic, which exacted from him, in addition, the surrender 
 of his life on the scaffold." His son, Louis Philippe, took 
 the crown from Charles X. ; like him, lost it, and died, an 
 uncrowned monarch, in exile. Before that catastrophe fell 
 upon Louis Philippe, his eldest son had succeeded to the 
 title of Duke of Orleans, and lost his life miserably on the 
 stones of Paris. Such is the summary of five centuries. 
 They who study the history of that long period will find, 
 as far as it regards the Dukes, that the happiest was he 
 who died the youngest ; and that wisdom was not with him 
 who lived the longest. 
 
 The career of Louis Philippe was marked by singular in- 
 cidents. He was the pupil of INIadame de Genlis, and had 
 more regard for her than he had for his own mother. From 
 the windows of the old residence of Beaumarchais he wit- 
 nessed the destruction of the Bastille. He became a sans- 
 culottes, was a door-keeper in the service of the Jacobins, 
 fought for the Eepublic at Valmy and Jemappe, and fled 
 from the Eepublic, to wander under assumed names, or to 
 teach mathematics in a school in Smtzerlaud. Discovered 
 in his vocation of usher, he travelled over the north of 
 Europe, visited .A^merica, returned to England, and offered 
 his services — which, luckily for him, Avere declined — to 
 head an expedition to prevent the occupation of the Ionian 
 Islands by the French. He also oftered to serve in the 
 English army, against the army of Napoleon, in Spain ; but 
 finding such service again declined, he withdrew to Sicily, 
 married the daughter of the King of Naples, on Christmas- 
 
 L 3
 
 226 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS, 
 
 day, 1809, and, after five years of private life, returned to 
 tlie Palais Eoyal on the downfall of Najioleon. He awaited 
 at Twickenham the issue of "Waterloo ; and, after the road 
 to Paris was once more open to him, he appeared in the 
 French capital, permanent leader of the Opposition against 
 the Bourbons. 
 
 That systematic opposition, aided by the imbecility of the 
 Bourbons themselves, ended in the ruin of the elder branch. 
 Louis Philippe then gained the great object of his ambi- 
 tion, the crown of France, and lost it, after a tenure of 
 eighteen years, through as obstinate tyranny as that which 
 in Charles X. cost him his throne. Charles X. suppressed 
 the liberty of the press ; Louis Philippe would not tolerate 
 electoral reform. Each paid the forfeiture of his folly, and 
 died in exile ; but Louis Philippe was the greater man of 
 the two. He was exemplary in his private life, loved his 
 children too well, — for his desire to enrich them at the ex- 
 pense of Prance helj)ed to accomplish his own overthrow. His 
 love of country however was also unbounded, and he worked 
 unceasingly, but not always wisely, to promote her glory and 
 welfare. His personal ambition, on the other hand, was 
 greater than his affection for his country, and under its in- 
 fluences he fancied that he was too firmly seated to be shaken 
 from his throne. That end came however in 1848 ; and when 
 he or his heirs would fain have scrambled up to the throne 
 again, they were warned away, for ever, by the terrible 
 words, " It is too late !" 
 
 These words were twice uttered in the ears of Louis 
 Philippe before they were shouted, for the third and last time, 
 in the Chamber of Deputies, when the widowed Duchess of 
 Orleans presented her eldest son as the successor of his 
 grandfather. 
 
 The King had made some ofler of concession, but was in- 
 formed that it was " too late." He nevertheless sat down to 
 breakfast quietly with his family, in the Hall of Diana, on
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE. 227 
 
 the last day of his reign. He fancied himself safe under 
 the shield of the Opposition, of whose chiefs he had formed 
 a ministry, and was comforted. At that very moment the 
 cavalry, in the court-yard below, were surrendering their 
 sabres to the people, and the infantry were giving up their 
 muskets. The breakfast-table was soon surroixnded by a 
 party of friends, ministers, and councillors ; and consterna- 
 tion came in with M. de Girardin, who, on hearing the King 
 express his willingness to name Odillon Barrot to the Pre- 
 sidency of the Council, exclaimed, ''It is too late," and advised 
 a voluntary abdication, if the King would save from ship- 
 wreck both royalty and people. The Duke de Montpensier 
 was equally urgent, on the same side, "in the name of France." 
 The King yielded, and put his signature to the words, " I 
 abdicate in favour of my grandson the Count de Paris. I 
 trust that he may be more fortunate than I have been." 
 
 Marshal Gerard was one of several messengers despatched 
 to various points where the insurgents were assembled, to 
 announce the great fact of the abdication. He rode Louis 
 Philippe's own horse, and advanced towards the nearest 
 barricade with a green bough in his hand, in sign of peace. 
 M. Dumas, who relates in full detail the picturesque inci- 
 dents of the fall of the House of Orleans, in his Life of 
 Louis Philippe, suggestively remarks that, as on the 24th of 
 Pebruary, there were no trees in leaf but the cypress ; it 
 was with that emblem of deathly association that the Mar- 
 shal went to announce to the insurrectionists the demise of 
 the citizen-royalty. 
 
 Meanwhile the heralds of the abdicating King were ti^eated 
 roughly. The insurgents pressed closer round the Tuileries ; 
 and Louis Philippe ungirt his sword, took off his orders, 
 divested himself of his uniform, and appeared in a " civil 
 suit." He ordered his carriage. The mob killed the out- 
 rider and stabbed the horses. The growing uneasiness of 
 the King was calmed by the announcement that tvro hired
 
 228 MONARCHS RETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 carriages were in waiting on the Place de la Concorde. To 
 these, Louis Philippe and his consort, with the Duchess de 
 Nemours, were accompanied by a few faithful friends, and 
 several very interested and temporary followers. On the 
 " Place" the populace closely pi-essed upon them, and the 
 fugitive monarch manifested much less self-possession than 
 his Queen. He may be excused, for, as M. Dumas remarks, 
 the associations connected with the scene and actors were 
 not encouraging : Louis Philippe was standing within ten 
 yards of the spot where his father's head had been stricken 
 off, amid the approving shouts of the multitude. He was 
 almost courteously treated by the mob ; and M. de Cremieux 
 having, as he remarked, " packed off royalty in a hackney- 
 coach," the people executed Louis Philippe in effigy, by 
 shattering his bust with shot; and a patriot, by breaking 
 the pendulum of the great clock of the Tuileries, marked, 
 for some time, the hour at which the citizen-king had been 
 finally stripped of his power, — "half past one!" 
 
 Events marched faster than the King could fly. The 
 Republic was proclaimed while the royal Duchesses were 
 wandering through the streets ; and Jerome Bonaparte in- 
 formed the Provisional Grovernment, on the 28th, that " the 
 time for dynasties had passed away in Prance." Two days 
 later Louis Napoleon Bonaparte also appeared in Paris, and 
 paid liis compliments to the Provisional Government in a 
 letter, in which he said, " I hasten from exile to place myself 
 under the banners of the Eepublic just proclaimed. With- 
 out other ambition than that of being useful to my country, 
 I announce my arrival to the members of the Provisional 
 Government, and assure them of my devotion to the cause 
 which they represent." The flight of Louis Philippe was 
 attended by many difficulties, but the details are too well- 
 known to render more than brief recapitulation necessary. 
 The King arrived safely at St. Cloud, whence, failing a more 
 dignified conveyance, he and his family travelled in one of
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE. 229 
 
 the public carriages of the ISicard Company, to Versailles. 
 The most acceptable oiFeriBg made to him here was a packet 
 containing a couple of clean shirts, the only "luggage" 
 which his valet, Provost, had had opportunity to bring with 
 him on his way to rejoin his master. The fugitives reached 
 Dreux at midnight, between Thursday and Friday, where 
 they were joined by the Duke de Montpensier, who con- 
 veyed to them the mournful intelligence that the regency 
 was rejected, and that all was lost. 
 
 The further flight of the fallen monarch was evidently, 
 although secretly, favoured by the authorities. The travel- 
 lers and their little suite were indeed, in some measure, 
 disguised. Louis Philippe had cut away his whiskers and 
 changed his wig ; and some minor attempts at disguise were 
 also made. At St. Andre, the Gendarmerie put some un- 
 pleasant questions as to their identity ; but a few words 
 whispered to them by the benevolent uuder-prefect of 
 Dreux, — who travelled with them, and, by the side of a ser- 
 vant on the box, acted as coachman, — caused them to with- 
 draw silently. The fact however of the King being on this 
 road was soon known ; and he had a narrow escape from fall- 
 ing into the hands of a body of paper-makers, who turned 
 out of their factory, with the intention of arresting him, 
 jiist too late to effect their purpose. 
 
 The following day Honfleur was reached in safety, and 
 the fugitives found shelter in a small house placed at their 
 disposal by an adherent. An attempt to embark from Trou- 
 ville failed, in conseqvience of the storminess of the weather. 
 The ex-royal party and their followers returned to Honfleur. 
 At this moment of uncertainty and tempestuous weather 
 Louis Philippe was said to resemble King Lear. He was 
 exposed to great calamity, it is true, but he was clean- 
 shaved, had green spectacles, wore a false nose, and spoke 
 with an American accent. 
 
 Like Lear, however, he met with simple men who were
 
 230 MONARCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 honest. "When Louis Philippe was negotiating with the 
 proprietor of a Trouville boat, for a passage, he still af- 
 fected to be an American. Straightforward Barbet, the 
 boat-owner, at once remarked, " I do not wish to penetrate 
 your secret ; all that I undertake is to convey you safely to 
 England. I can do it." 
 
 "You are too upright a man," said Louis Philippe, "to 
 make it necessary that I should conceal longer from you 
 who I am. I am the King." 
 
 " I knew that well enough, from the first moment I saw 
 you," was the reply of Barbet, whom the Kiug fairly hugged 
 in his arms, by way of doing honour to his discernment. 
 
 The difficulties presented by the storminess of the season 
 retarded the embarkation of the royal party, but it was at 
 length safely eff'ected. It is thus described by M. Dumas, 
 whose details differ from those which were familiar to us 
 in the newspapers of the period. 
 
 The King learned that the English packet, the ' Express,' 
 was lying in the port of Havre. His faithful follower, M. 
 de Perthius, accordingly hired a small steamer, for one hun- 
 dred and twenty francs, to convey the fugitives from Hon- 
 fleur to Havre. " The King took leave of his brave escort, 
 who did not part from him till he had crossed the plank on 
 to the deck of the boat, the progress of which they followed 
 with their eyes till they saw it enter the port of Havre. There 
 was the 'Express' waiting. The boat chartered by M. de 
 Perthius ran alongside, and, in sight of the whole population 
 assembled on the quay, the King and royal family passed 
 from one vessel to the other ; and then with difficulty, for 
 the harbour was full of vessels, the ' Express ' made its way, 
 cleared the port, put up its helm for England, and disap- 
 peared beyond the horizon." 
 
 Up to the moment of departure, Louis Philippe had as- 
 sumed the humble name of "William Smith." When he 
 landed at Newhaven, — which his son, the Prince de Joinville
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE. 231 
 
 had, two or three years before, designated as the most fa- 
 vourable point at which a naval expedition could land, — the 
 Wilham Smith was converted into the Count de Neuilly. 
 
 He bore the catastrophe which he had invited, with a 
 cheerful resignation ; and, after a few delays, he finally took 
 up his residence at Claremont. He led there the life of a 
 country gentleman ; and his appearance on the railway be- 
 tween his neighbourhood and town was familiar to many 
 persons, with whom he often entered into conversation un- 
 reservedly. On one occasion, there were an English lady and 
 her daughter in a carriage of a train which was on the point 
 of starting from the station nearest to Claremont, and into 
 which an elderly lady and gentleman, with a young child, 
 rather hurriedly entered, whereupon the train immediately 
 started. The two children became on such friendly terms, 
 that long before the end of the journey the one had com- 
 municated to the daughter of the English lady the relation- 
 ship which existed between the speaker and the venerable 
 couple travelling together ; ending the communication with 
 the more important one that the gentleman was the " King, 
 Louis Philippe!" The latter laughed at the indiscreet 
 confidence of his grandchild, and the hero of Valmy and 
 Jemappe cordially shook hands with his fellow-travellers. 
 
 The private life of the King, at Claremont, has been 
 drawn by an authorized hand, in the pages of the ' Quar- 
 terly Eeview.' The picture is striking from its simplicity, 
 but ofters httle that is otherwise worthy of remark. The 
 whole royal family, from the King himself down to the 
 youngest grandchild, dined together. The ex-King carved 
 for all, and prided himself in his dexterity. All rose from 
 table at the same time. The drawing-room, in the evening, 
 presented a scene where the youngest were gay, the oldest 
 serene, and where every one present had fair opportunity 
 to display the quality in which he most excelled. It was a 
 thoroughly home-scene, but reference was not unfrequently
 
 232 MOJTAEcns retired from business. 
 
 made to a stage more splendid, on whicli the most of those 
 present had been actors ; and when this was the case, the 
 charitable construction which was applied to the acts of ad- 
 versaries was worthy of those who knew how to bear adver- 
 sity with dignity. 
 
 During the first year of this last exile, the health of the 
 King seemed to be as vigorous as usual. He was able to 
 transact a considerable amount of business, to take much 
 exercise, and to travel long distances, without fatigue. Al- 
 most suddenly did the first symptoms of decline make their 
 appearance; and not only age, but the infirmities of age, 
 were now confessedly there. A remedy was sought in 
 change of air and of scene, but without realizing more than 
 slight temporary benefit. It was not to be denied that de- 
 cline was visible ; but though discerned by those who loved 
 the ex-King, it was as yet imacknowledged, almost unsus- 
 pected, by the King himself. 
 
 Dumas, in describing the incidents of the ex-King's clos- 
 ing days, remarks, that the health of Louis Philippe had for 
 some time been thus visibly declining to all who watched 
 around him. He was approaching his seventy-seventh year, 
 and recent political events had given a shock to his other- 
 wise vigorous constitution. A sojourn of some weeks in 
 the summer, at St. Leonard's, had seemed to have prodviced 
 some amelioration ; but from the commencement of August 
 his debility visibly increased. By the 24th of August, 1850, 
 the King's condition was such that his physician felt bound 
 in duty to communicate his fears to the Queen, who was 
 affected indeed, but who expressed her desire that Louis 
 Philippe might be made aware of the peril in which he lay. 
 The medical man suggested that such announcement would 
 be most fittingly declared by a priest. It was part of the 
 duty of a doctor, he said, to induce a patient to believe that 
 he was not in danger. The Queen however charged the 
 physician to take the melancholy office i;pon himself ; and
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE. 233 
 
 when the latter had obeyed, and the dread announcement 
 had been delicately conveyed to the "esprit serieux" of the 
 King, his Majesty, after listening calmly, exclaimed cheer- 
 fully, " Oh, ah ! I understand ; you come to tell me that it 
 is time to prepare for leaving. Was it not the Queen who 
 requested you to make this communication?" The doctor 
 answered in the affirmative. "Very well!" said the King, 
 " beg of her to come in." 
 
 Dignified affection marked the touching interview, at the 
 end of which the Queen announced that his Majesty re- 
 quired the presence of her almoner, the Abbe Guelle. With 
 the Abbe came the whole of the French royal family, — the 
 Duchess of Orleans, the Count de Paris, and the Duke de 
 Chartres, the Duke and Duchess of Nemours, Prince and 
 Princess de Joinville, the Duke and Duchess of Aumale, 
 and the Princess of Saxe-Coburg. They all knelt at some 
 distance from the bed where the dying King was " confess- 
 ing" to the Abbe. 
 
 The confession was made, absolution was given, and the 
 King, turning towards his consort, expressed, with some 
 gaiety, a hope that she was now satisfied. The reply was 
 in the affirmative, but it was seriously made. Louis Phi- 
 lippe then requested to be left alone with the Duchess of 
 Orleans. " They remained thus together," says M. Dumas, 
 " for nearly an hour. No other person was present ; but 
 it is presumed that the King's object, on this occasion, was 
 to overcome the repugnance which the Duchess appeared to 
 entertain against the ' fusion.' " And thereupon M. Dumas 
 very pertinently asks whether " what in the living King was 
 policy, was not in the dying one remorse." It would how- 
 ever be doing injustice to the intellect of Louis Philippe, to 
 believe that he would condemn the whole system of his life, 
 by recommending union with the branch which he had helped 
 to dethrone. The task of pronouncing him guilty of trea- 
 son to the elder branch was accomplished by his sons, when
 
 234 MOKARcns retiked fkom business. 
 
 they agreed to the fusiou, and, by acknowledging Henri V. 
 as King, left the world to make the inference that their 
 father had been a usurper. 
 
 Dumas suggests that Louis Philijipe remembered that the 
 heir of the old Bourbon line was childless, and that his own 
 heirs were next in succession. The ex-King sacrificed how- 
 ever more than he thought of, if he really recommended the 
 fusion. Dumas evidently thinks that remorse may have 
 moved the dying King to oifer for a time to the excluded 
 heir a crown which, when he himself Avas on the throne, he 
 felt to be so light, and which now, at the gates of the grave, 
 he felt to be so heavy. 
 
 It was at the close of this conversation that, feeling him- 
 self somewhat recovered, he dictated to an aide-de-camp the 
 last page of his ' Memoirs,' in which he also made some 
 emendations. Refreshed by the occupation, he said gaily 
 to his medical attendant, " Ah ! pnrcUeu, doctor, there is one 
 thing Avhich I am very much inclined to do." 
 
 " What may that be. Sire ?" inquired the physician. 
 
 " To prove you spoke falsely" {C'esf de vous faire mentir), 
 "by getting better, this time." 
 
 " It would be a great happiness for me, Sire, to witness 
 such a result, and you shall have my best efforts for such an 
 end." 
 
 The King it was who erred. Violent fever fell upon him 
 that night, and lasted till two in the morning. From that 
 hour till six, the intensity of the attack diminished. The 
 King felt better, but his debility had increased. As late as 
 seven o'clock that morniug, he declared that he felt perfectly 
 well, that he thought the doctor was mistaken, and that he 
 really should not depart this time. The doctor felt the royal 
 pulse, and shook his head. At this fatal signal, Louis Phi- 
 lippe remarked, with a not very dignified vivacity, born of 
 an eager desire to live, that " the present was not a fair 
 trial, as he had been coughing, and that coughing always
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE. 235 
 
 accelerated the motiou of tlie pulse." With this comment 
 on the throbbings which mark the action of life, and with 
 this betrayal of his great desire to live, Loviis Philippe re- 
 mained speechless. "With loss of speech he did not lose all 
 consciousness, and he seemed to have gained resignation. 
 He looked benignantly on those who stood around him, and 
 then closed his eyes on a world from which his spirit ap- 
 peared to part with regret. His last half-hour was passed 
 in a succession of sighs, the last of which was breathed out, 
 painlessly, at eight a. m., when the ex-Citizen King ceased to 
 exist. 
 
 On the 2nd of September the dethroned Monarch was 
 unostentatiously entombed within a private Eoman Catho- 
 lic chapel at "Weyb ridge. According to the superscription, 
 his remains lie there " till, by God's help, they may be trans- 
 ferred to a place among the ashes of his ancestors." The 
 place alluded to is Dreux, where he had raised a chapel 
 over the remains of his maternal ancestors. Of that line 
 Louis Philippe, in his lifetime, was weakly, if not absurdly, 
 proud. He did not care for being the descendant of the 
 brother of Louis XIV. : he loved to trace his descent rather 
 from the Grand Mo7iarque himself. This he could do through 
 his mother, who was the daughter of the Duke de Penthievre. 
 The latter was the son of that Count of Toulouse who was 
 the illegitimate child of Louis XIV. and Madam de Monte- 
 span. When Dumas was young, and was once serving 
 as amanuensis to Louis Philippe, then Duke of Orleans, the 
 latter, who was dictating a pamphlet to his secretary for the 
 nonce, drew a comparison between himself and his " august 
 ancestor, Louis XIV." Young Dumas was indiscreet enovigh 
 to look surprised, but the Duke continued, " Yes, Dumas, 
 my august ancestor, Louis XIV. To descend from Louis 
 XIV., if it be only through his illegitimate children, is, in 
 my eyes at least, an honour sufficientl}^ great to be worth 
 boasting of!" Yet this same ex-]Monarch, in the days of
 
 236 MOKARcns retired from business, 
 
 his sans-culotteism, when his mother was yet alive, wrote 
 to Madame de Genlis the assurance that there were only- 
 two things on earth that he really loved — "the Eepublic 
 and her /" 
 
 EOLL OF SOVEREIGNS OF FRANCE, 
 
 erom the accession" oe hugues capet. 
 
 Capetian Eace. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 987. Hugues Capet. 
 
 996. Eobert the Wise, excommunicated. 
 
 1031. Henry I. 
 
 1060. Philip I., twice excommunicated. 
 
 1108. Louis the Fat. 
 
 1137. Louis the Young. His divorced wife married Henry 
 
 II. of England. 
 
 1180. Philip Augustus. 
 
 1223. Louis VIII. 
 
 1226. Louis IX. (St. Louis), died at Carthage. 
 
 1270. Philip the Hardy. 
 
 1285. Philip the Pair. 
 
 1314. Louis X. 
 
 1316. Philip the Long. 
 
 1321. Charles the Pair. 
 
 House of Valois. 
 
 1328. Philip VI., cousin of the last King. 
 
 1350. John died in London. 
 
 1364. Charles V. 
 
 1380. Charles VI., died a maniac. 
 
 1422. Charles VII., died of starvation. 
 
 1461. Louis XL 
 
 1483. Charles VIlL, died of apoplexy.
 
 EOLL OF SOVEEEIGNS 01" FRANCE. 237 
 
 1498. Louis XII., married Mary, sister of Henry VIII. 
 
 1515. Francis I. 
 
 154-7. Henry II., kiUed at a Tournament. 
 
 1559. Francis II. 
 
 1560. Charles IX. 
 
 1574. Henry III., murdered. 
 
 House of Bourbon. 
 
 1589. Henry IV. of JNTavarre, murdered. 
 
 1610. Louis XIII. 
 
 164,3. Louis XIV. 
 
 1715. Louis XV. 
 
 1774. Louis XVI., beheaded. 
 
 The Eepublic, founded in 1792, terminated in 1799. The 
 Consulate lasted from the latter period to 1804. The Em- 
 j)ire followed. Napoleon abdicated in 1814. 
 
 The Bourbons eestobed. 
 
 1814. Louis XVIII. 
 
 1824. Charles X., abdicated 1830. 
 
 1830. Louis Philippe. Abdicated a.d. 1848. 
 
 The second Eepublic fell by the coup d'etat of the 2nd 
 December, 1851. In the following year the Empire was 
 restored in the person of Napoleon III.
 
 238 
 
 Corsica. 
 
 THEODORE OF CORSICA. 
 
 " I am liumble who was livimbled." — Mes. Beownin'&. 
 
 Corsica may lay claim to notice here, iu connection witli 
 France. It has never indeed had but one resident King, 
 and he became a King without a sceptre ; but it sent forth 
 to Europe a family of Kings, who also were driven by neces- 
 sity to descend from the thrones which they had occupied. In 
 order of time, precedency must be given to the man of less 
 note ; and we shall first find ourselves with him in a locality 
 where we might least expect to meet with a King. 
 
 In the year 1749 there was residing in modest lodgings 
 in Mount Street, Grosvenor Square, among Italian couriers 
 and butlers out of place, an individual of a shabby-genteel 
 appearance, yet with a dashing, adventurer look about him, 
 who excited no particular attention, until he was one day 
 arrested for debt, and that, as his neighbours said, at the 
 suit or through the intrigues of the Genoese Minister then 
 in London. 
 
 The prisoner was, in fact, not so much a sceptreless as a 
 wandering King. But, from the moment of his arrest, his 
 royalty was shattered for ever. The demand against him 
 was for £450, and, iu defaidt of payment or security, his 
 Majesty was consigned to the King's Bench prison. His 
 story is a singular one. His name was Theodore Stephen
 
 THEODORE OE CORSICA. 239 
 
 de XeuhofF. By descent lie "was a Westphalian ; in rank a 
 Baron. His father, having lost caste among "Westphalian 
 nobles, by marrying a merchant's daughter, emigrated to 
 Lorraine, where Theodore was born, about the year 1696. 
 He lost his parents at an early period of his life, served the 
 Duke of Orleans in the quality of page, and began manhood 
 beneath the banner of Charles XII. The intelligence and 
 activity of Theodore recommended him to the ministers of 
 the Swedish King as an efficient political agent. He under- 
 took private missions to several courts, and sometimes on 
 very delicate business. He suddenly left London, on some- 
 thing more than suspicion being excited that he was a Ja- 
 cobite agent ; and, after a brief career of a rather vagabond 
 quality, he took service in Spain, where he married, ill-treated, 
 and deserted the daughter of Lord Kilmalloch, by whom he 
 had one son, who was subsequently well known in London 
 by the title of Colonel Frederick. 
 
 The Baron next appears as agent or confederate in Law's 
 Mississippi scheme; and when that bubble had burst, he, 
 ever fortunate, entered the Imperial service. This led to 
 his subsequent brief royalty in Corsica. That island, — after 
 passing from the Carthaginians to the Romans, from these 
 to the Saracens, from whom it was taken by a Lieutenant 
 of Charlemagne, Governor of Genoa, — was ultimately pos- 
 sessed and most cruelly ruled by the Genoese. Against these 
 latter masters the Corsicans were for ever rising in revolt, 
 which issued in their obtaining terms which were invariably 
 violated. One of these insurrections broke out when Neu- 
 hoff was in the Imperial service, and, as appeal had been 
 made to the Emperor, the Baron was sent, as a sort of com- 
 missioner, to report on the condition of things as they then 
 existed in the island. 
 
 The commissioner acted so skilfully, and inflamed, so 
 adroitly, the quarrel between the islanders and the subjects 
 of the Doge, that a Corsican deputation, recognizing in him
 
 240 MONARCHS EETIEED TEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 their Deus ex onachind, besought him to become at once their 
 deliverer and prince. The Baron discovered, however, that 
 none of the European Courts would countenance any in- 
 novation in the government of the island. His quickness 
 of wit, nevertheless, soon carried him to the desired end. 
 Austria was at war with Turkey, and the Baron having con- 
 veyed to the Porte some useful, but not honest, suggestions, 
 tending to the ruin of Austria and the triumph of the Otto- 
 mans, the Sultan agreed to furnish means to enable the 
 Baron to hold Corsica under the suzerainty of the Sublime 
 Porte ! 
 
 The Corsicans knew nothing of the second character in 
 which their deliverer came, on the 15th of March, 1736. On 
 that day he landed at Aleria, from a twenty-four-gun brig, 
 which carried English colours. Eollowiug the brig were two 
 transports laden with ammunition and provisions, regimen- 
 tal clothing, and Turkish sequins, all in very considerable 
 quantities. The stranger was hailed with acclamations, and 
 exactly a month after his arrival, he was elected King, by 
 the style and title of Theodore I., King of Corsica and 
 Cap raj a. He was crowned with a laurel wreath, and the 
 title declared to be hereditary in his family. 
 
 The Corsicans found Theodore a sort of King Stork. His 
 energy and activity were immense ; and his cruelty was in 
 proportion with both. He overturned everything, in order 
 to construct anew. He looked upon the people as savages, 
 who required to be tamed and civilized. He disregarded 
 their pi-ejudices, trampled on their customs, which had the 
 force of law, and alienated the priesthood by hinting at the 
 necessity for establishing a new form of faith. He silenced 
 those who opposed him, by consigning them to death ; and 
 when the Doge of Genoa, preparatory to a formidable attack 
 upon him, published an account of his past life, so coloured 
 as to render him ridiculous, coiitemptijble, and even detest 
 able in the eyes of the Corsicans, he replied in manifestos
 
 THEODOEE OP COESICA. 241 
 
 of such tumid and burlesque vulgarity as to justify all that 
 was asserted by the government of Genoa. 
 
 He had reigned only eight months, but he had outlived the 
 liking of his subjects. He promised, protested, and de- 
 ceived ; but he daily felt his position to be one of increasing 
 peril. It is however a singular fact, that when he quitted 
 Corsica, so far from doing so under compulsion, he assigned 
 as a cause for his temporary absence, the necessity under 
 which he laboured, to obtain from foreign powers that aid 
 against the enemy which he was now about to seek for in 
 person. He left a council of regency, took solemn leave, 
 promised soon to return, and became again a vagabond in 
 Europe. 
 
 Theodore was for awhile among the "lions" of the Lon- 
 don world. Horace Walpole, in a letter to Mann (March, 
 1749), says, " I believe I told you that King Theodore is 
 here ; I am to drink coifee with him tomorroAV, at Lady 
 Schaub's. I have a cmnosity to see him, though I am not 
 commonly fond of sights, but content myself with the oil- 
 cloth picture of them that is hung out, and to which they 
 seldom come up." 
 
 He had not been long resident in London when he was 
 arrested for the sum, and under the circumstances, before 
 mentioned. 
 
 Walpole describes Theodore as living " in a privileged 
 place," which Mount Street could not well have been; and 
 he adds, " His creditors seized him by making him believe 
 Lord Granville wanted him on business of importance : he 
 bit at it, and concluded that they were both to be reinstated 
 at once. I have desired Hogarth to go and steal his picture 
 for me, though I suppose one might easily buy a sitting 
 of him." 
 
 The unfortunate monarch would have starved in prison, 
 but for the compassion of a few of the aristocracy, and some 
 merchants, who supplied him from time to time with sums 
 
 YOL. I. M
 
 242 MOKARcns retired erom busikess. 
 
 for his support. He maintained a dignified appearance in 
 prison; but, like Mr. Dorrit, lie condescendingly received 
 "testimonials" from visitors; and it is said that these benefac- 
 tions were handed to him as he sat under a canopy consisting 
 of the top of a half-tester bedstead. Nor was he satisfied 
 with the mere semblance of royalty : he exercised one at least 
 of its prerogatives, by conferring the order of knighthood. 
 Of course the fees of office demanded on the occasion were 
 welcome to the ex-King ; and the title of " Sir" was often 
 prefixed in sport before the name of any new Knight of the 
 Order of Deliverance. * The sword with which the captive 
 monarch created his chevaliers, was fi^nally presented by him 
 to Dr. Milner, of Maidstone, in grateful acknowledgment of 
 benefits received. 
 
 In 1753, Walpole paid a welcome homage to the ex-King 
 by publishing a paper in the ' World,' with the motto "Date 
 oholum Belisario.'''' " This Prince," says the aristocratic re- 
 publican, " after having bravely exposed his life and crown 
 in defence of the rights of his subjects, miscarried, as Cato 
 and other patriot-heroes had done before him. For many 
 years ho struggled with fortune, and left no means untried 
 which indefatigable policy or solicitation of succours could 
 attempt, to recover his crown. At last, when he had dis- 
 charged his duty to his subjects and himself, he chose this 
 country for his retirement ; — not to indulge a voluptuous, in- 
 glorious ease, but to enjoy the participation of those bless- 
 ings which he had so vainly endeavoured to fix on the Cor- 
 sicans. Here, for some months, he bore with moi-e philo- 
 sophic dignity the loss of his crown, than Charles V., Casi- 
 mir of Poland, or any of those philosophic visionaries who 
 wantonly resigned them in order to partake the sluggish in- 
 dolence, and at length the disquiets, of a cloister." After 
 placing Theodore above James II., the republican monarchist 
 adds, " The veracity of an historian obliges me not to dis- 
 guise the bad situation of his Corsican Majesty's revenue,
 
 THEODOEE OF COESICA. 243 
 
 whicli has reduced him to be a prisoner for debt in the King's 
 Bencb Prison ; and so cruelly lias fortune exercised her ri- 
 gours upon him, that last session of Parliament he was 
 examined before a Committee of the House of Commons, on 
 the hardships to which the prisoners in that gaol had been 
 subject. Yet, let not ill-nature make sport with these mis- 
 fortunes ! His Majesty had nothing to blush at, nothing to 
 palliate, in the recapitulation of his distresses. The debts 
 on his civil list were owing to no misapplication, no impro- 
 vidence, of his own ; no corruption of his ministers, no in- 
 dulgence to favourites or mistresses. His life was philoso- 
 phic, his diet humble, his robes decent ; yet his butcher, 
 his landlady, and his tailor could not continue to supply an 
 establishment which had no demesnes to support it, no taxes 
 to maintain it, no excises, no lotteries, to provide funds for its 
 deficiencies and emergencies." 
 
 A subscription was opened, at " Tully's Head, Pall-]Nrall, 
 for a subsidy for the use of his Corsican Majesty;" and 
 Dodsley, the bookseller, was advertised as " high treasurer 
 and grand librarian of Corsica." The result of the applica- 
 tion disappointed Theodore, and disgusted Walpole. The 
 former was disappointed at the smallness of the sum raised ; 
 the latter was disgusted at the conduct of the King, 
 whom, in a letter to Mann, in the following April, he thus 
 irreverently treats : — " I must now tell you how I have been 
 treated by an old friend of yours. The rogue in question 
 is a monarch. I wrote (a paper in the ' World ') to pro- 
 mote a subscription for King Theodore, who is in prison for 
 debt. His Majesty's character is so bad, that it only raised 
 fifty pounds ; and though that was so much above his desert, 
 it was so much below his expectation, that he sent a solicitor 
 to threaten the printer with a prosecution for having taken 
 so much liberty with his name : take notice, too, that he had 
 accepted the money. Dodsley, you may believe, laughed at 
 the la^rtyer ; but that does not lessen the dirty knavery. It 
 
 M 2
 
 244 MOJfAECHS BETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 would, indeed, have made an excellent suit ! — a printer pro- 
 secuted, suppose, for having solicited and obtained charity 
 for a man in prison, and that man not mentioned by his right 
 name, but by a mock title, and the man himself 2iot a native 
 of the country ! But I have done with countenancing 
 Kings." 
 
 These two estimates of a character made by the same per- 
 son in one and the same year, are characteristic of the varia- 
 bleness of the writer. In April, he declares that fifty pounds 
 are above the deserts of a bad man whom, two months be- 
 fore, he had preferred to Charles V., and placed on a level 
 with Cato ; and whom he now pronounces to be no king at 
 all, — although we shall find him again asserting the right of 
 Theodore to the high-sounding appellation. 
 
 During the two following years Theodore is said to have 
 received some assistance from an individual who gave lessons 
 in foreign languages, and who gave himself out as being the 
 son of the royal debtor. In the year 1756 he " took the 
 benefit of the Insolvent Act;" and his schedule registered 
 the kingdom of Corsica, for the benefit of his creditors, and 
 declared that he " had no other estate or effects but in right 
 of that kingdom." He was liberated in December, but he 
 took up his residence within the Liberty of the Fleet. In- 
 creased distress threatening him, he repaired to the Portu- 
 guese Ambassador, in South Audley Street, near his old 
 residence in Mount Street, to ask for aid. Without a penny 
 in his pocket to pay for the conveyance, he engaged a chair ; 
 and when he was set down at the Ambassador's, his Excel- 
 lency was "not at home." Perplexed in the extreme, he 
 prevailed on the reluctant chairmen to carry him to No. 5, 
 Little Chapel Street, Soho, where lived an honest tailor, 
 known to Theodore, and in whose compassionate character 
 he was not mistaken, for the poor fellow received the still 
 poorer fellow who needed charity and obtained what he 
 needed. The ex-King was in a state of inanition, and was
 
 THEODORE OF CORSICA. 215 
 
 indeed past recovery. He lay down on the humble bed of 
 his friend the tailor, and died there the next day. A sub- 
 scription was talked of, to defray the expenses of the royal 
 funeral; but an oilman, weU-to-do, in Compton Street, Soho, 
 whose name was Wright, and who was not without a par- 
 ticular vanity, declared that he was " determined for once 
 in his life to have the honour of burying a king." He 
 undertook to defray the expenses. They amounted only to 
 £10. 11^. 2d. ; but the "opulent oilman" would not pay more 
 than eight guineas ; and the bill of Mr. Hubbard, " at the 
 Four Coffius and Crown, in New Street, near Broad Street, 
 Carnaby Market, St. James's, Westminster," bears the un- 
 satisfactory mark of " balance due, £2. 3^. 2f/." 
 
 The body, after lying in such " state" as could be got 
 up for it, at the poor tailor's, was buried on the 15th De- 
 cember, 1756. Three Aveeks later, Walpole writes to Mann, - 
 " Tour old royal guest. King Theodore, is gone to the place 
 M^hich, it is said, levels kings and beggars ; an unnecessary 
 journey for him, who had already fallen from the one to the 
 other." In September, 1757, Yfalpole writes to the same 
 correspondent, at Florence, — where Theodore was residing 
 when the Corsican deputation offered to elect him king, — 
 " I am putting up a stone in St. Anne's Churchyard, for 
 your old friend. King Theodore ; in short, his history is too 
 remarkable to be let perish, Mr. Bentley says that I am 
 not only an antiquarian, but prepare materials for future an- 
 tiquarians. You will laugh to hear, that, when I sent the 
 inscription to the vestry, for the approbation of the minister 
 and churchwardens, they demurred, and took some days to 
 consider whether they should suffer him to be called King 
 of Corsica. Happily, they have acknowledged his title ! 
 Here is the inscription ; over it is a crown, exactly copied 
 from his coin : — " Near this place is interred, Theodore, 
 King of Corsica, who died in this parish, December 11, 
 1756, immediately after leaving the King's Bench Prison,
 
 246 MONARcns retieed from business. 
 
 by the benefit of the Act of Insolvency ; in consequence of 
 which, he registered his kingdom of Corsica for the use of 
 his creditors. 
 
 " The Grave, great teacher, to a level brings 
 Heroes and beggars, galley-slaves and Kings. 
 But Theodore this lesson learned, ere dead ; 
 Fate poured its lessons on his living head, 
 Bestowed a kingdom, and denied him bread." 
 
 "I would have served him," adds the epitaph-writer, "if 
 a King, even in a gaol, could have been an honest man;" 
 and with this "fling" at the genus and the individual, he 
 dismisses the subject. 
 
 Nearly forty years after King Theodore was consigned to 
 the grave in St. Anne's, an old man, one night in February, 
 1796, walked from a coffee-house at Storey's Gate to West- 
 minster Abbey. Under one of the porches there, he put a 
 pistol to his head, pulk d the trigger, and fell dead. The old 
 man was the reputed son of Theodore, — Colonel Frederick. 
 The latter had for many years been familiar to the inhabi- 
 tants of London, and remarkable for his gentlemanlike bear- 
 ing and his striking eccentricities. He had fulfilled many em- 
 ployments, and had witnessed many strange incidents. Not 
 the least strange, perhaps, was his once dining at Dolly's 
 with Count Poniatowski, when neither the son of the late 
 Xing of Corsica, nor he who was the future King of Poland, 
 had enough between them to discharge their reckoning. 
 Distress drove him to suicide, and his remains rest by the 
 side of those of his father. He left a daughter, who was 
 married to a Mr. Clark, of the Dartmouth Custom-house. 
 A daughter, one of the four children of this marriage, was 
 established in London, at the begiiniing of this century, 
 where she earned a modest livehihood as an authoress and 
 artist. Her card ran thus ; —
 
 THEODORE OF CORSICA. 247 
 
 i^isg Clark, 
 
 Granddaughter of the late Colonel Frederick, Son of 
 
 Theodore, King of Corsica, 
 
 PAINTS LIKENESSES IN MINIATURE, 
 
 FEOJI TWO TO THEEE GUINEAS. 
 
 No. 116, New Bond Steeet. 
 Hom-s of Attendance from Twelve in the Morning until Four. 
 
 After all, this was not so startling a reverse as that en- 
 dured by the son of Aristides, who sang ballads in the streets 
 of Athens, in order to procure bread. 
 
 The fall of the ex-King Theodore, however, gave bread to 
 the ballad-makers. In 1787, an opera was played at the 
 King's Theatre, of which Theodore and the Sultan Achmet 
 were the heroes. It was a bad opera, for which the Empe- 
 ror of Germany had paid the author £1000, because he 
 looked upon it as a political satire against the enemies of the 
 Empire. "The learned," says Walpole, who saw it, "call 
 the music good ; but there is nothing to show the humour 
 and action of the Storace and Morelli." 
 
 Three years previous to the death of the ex-King Tlieo- 
 dore, the Corsicans chose for their General the celebrated 
 Pascal Paoli. Tlic defeat of Paoli by the Count de Vaux, 
 in 1769, drove the former to seek a refuge in England. In 
 1774, the island fell into the power of the French. Twenty 
 years later, in 1794, the Corsicans acknowledged George III. 
 for their sovereign. Sir Gilbert Elliott was appointed Vice- 
 roy, and he opened a parliament in 1795. In October, the 
 following year, the people declared for Erance. In the year 
 of Paoli' s defeat a child had been born in Ajaccio, who was 
 indeed then of little note, but, in the period when the island 
 declared for Erance, that child had grown into the comman- 
 der-in-chief of the army of Italy, and his name was already 
 a "household word" in Europe ; — Napoleon Bonaparte.
 
 218 
 
 A FAMILY OP KINGS. 
 
 " Celui qiii couvrit la teiTe de ses legions, la pai-courut victorieiuc, et la 
 trouva trop petite pour sa gloire, fut restreint a rimmobile oisivete d'un 
 etroite insulaire." — Brochure Anonyme. 
 
 Whek a dish of poisoned figs had disposed of the life of 
 Benedict XI. (1304), the French party in the conclave of 
 Cardinals, who were almost starved to death before they 
 were agreed, or properly inspired, — and at the head of which 
 party was Cardinal Napoleon Orsini,- — carried the election 
 in favour of Bernard de Got, Archbishop of Bordeaux. 
 Bernard became that Clement V. who remained in France 
 till the end of his pontificate. 
 
 There was a strong anti-French feeling in various parts 
 of Italy. It was nowhere stronger than at Florence ; and 
 in Florence it especially manifested itself in a noble but 
 decayed family, — the family of the Bouapartes. 
 
 In those days political diflerences were not argued out, 
 but fought out ; and they who were the weaker in such ar- 
 gument suflTered death or exile. Among such sufferers were 
 these Bonapartes. In common with many other Florentine 
 exiles, they made a temporary home in Lunigiana, and 
 there bided their time. 
 
 How long they remained there waiting on Providence, or 
 at what period the " De Buonapartes" first emigi'ated to 
 Corsica, is so little known as to render even conjecture use- 
 less. Among the archives of the island is a deed, to which 
 an ancient date is arbitrarily assigned, and in which a De
 
 A FAMILY OF KIXGS. 219 
 
 Buonaparte has the prefix " Messer," indicating a person of 
 gentlemanly degree. 
 
 On the 15th of August, 1769, there was an execution at 
 Marseilles. A person of low degree had struck a noble gen- 
 tleman, who had carried off the ignoble individual's daugh- 
 ter. The poor fellow abused the law, and that sacred head 
 thereof, the King, because he was denied both law and jus- 
 tice in this case. The crowd who saw him suffer cursed the 
 King as deeply as the victim had done, and one among them 
 was heard to express a wish that Heaven would sweej) the 
 kingdom of a race by which it was so oppressed. The 
 speaker suffered for his boldness, but his wish was granted. 
 On that day, there was born in the little house of a lawyer, 
 in Corsica, the child who was to occupy the throne of the 
 Grand Monarque, and give the law to continental Europe : — 
 namely, Napoleon Bonaparte. 
 
 Napoleon was born at Ajaccio. He was the second son 
 in a family which ultimately reckoned thirteen children. 
 Of these, eight survived, five sons and three girls. The 
 father, Charles Bonaparte, had married the handsome " Lse- 
 titia " when the latter was only in her fifteenth year. The 
 mother lived to witness the unparalleled rise and fall of her 
 children. 
 
 The house at Ajaccio was the home of many virtues and 
 very small ambition. The "practice" of the advocate was 
 not extensive ; and the anxiety of the parents for the future 
 welfare of their large family was great. It extended from 
 indolent Joseph, in his teens, whom his younger brother 
 Napoleon was continually teazing or thumping, to the little 
 Jerome who, in 1784, was in his cradle, and who is now 
 seated under the shadow of the throne of his imperial nephew. 
 
 AVhen Mr. Eidley wrote the ' Tales of the Genii,' he never 
 -imagined anything so gloriously improbable as would have 
 been, in 1784, the idea of a friend who, looking in upon the 
 circle at the lawyer's house in Ajaccio, should have dared to 
 
 M 3
 
 250 MONABCHS EETIEED TBOM BUSINESS. 
 
 promise the mother that all these eight children should be, 
 one an Emperor, three of them Kings, one a Prince, — and 
 that the girls should enjoy or endure a destiny equally bril- 
 liant. In no fairy legend are crowns and coronets scattered 
 among an entire family. But fairy-legends are dull and 
 matter-of-fact compared with the grand romance of this 
 lawyer's household ; — a romance, which has not yet come to 
 an end. And yet, in the lawyer's home, nothing could be 
 less romantic than the routine which was there observed. 
 The childi'en, says the Abbe Nasica, " were brought up sim- 
 ply, after the fashion of their country, and with a primitive 
 strictness. It was almost as if you were living in a convent. 
 Prayers, sleep, study, refreshment, pleasure, promenade, — 
 everything went by rule and measure. The greatest har- 
 mony, a tender and sincere affection, prevailed among all 
 the members of the family. It was in those days a pattern 
 to the town, as it afterwards became its ornament and 
 boast." 
 
 After his tenth year. Napoleon w^as only occasionally in his 
 paternal home. In 1779, an anonymous pamphlet, the author 
 of which was watching the inevitable course of things, fore- 
 told that if the people of Prance had not as much prudence 
 as patriotism, the result would be not only a sanguinary re- 
 volution, but that some stranger would appear among them, 
 and make himself despotic master of the kingdom. The 
 stranger had just landed on the Prench coast, a boy ten 
 years of age, on his way to the military school at Brienne. 
 
 Pour years later, he held the commission of a Lieutenant 
 of Artillery ; was subsequently mixed up in the revolution- 
 ary movement in Corsica ; and though it was eight years 
 before he reached the rank of Captain, yet in the year in 
 which lie was raised to that degree, he became Colonel of 
 artillery, captured Toulon from the EoyaHsts, and was made 
 General of Brigade (1793). Only two years previously, 
 "Walpole wrote to the Countess of Ossory : — " To conjecture
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 251 
 
 what will happen, or how," (in France) " would be foolish ; 
 but these new events " (the return of the King and Queen 
 to Paris) " do not make me believe at all more in the dm-a- 
 tion of chaos, though they may protract it. I see nothing 
 like system, and full as little anything like a great man. The 
 very impulse given by the flight and recapture of the King, 
 must add vast fermentation to twenty millions of heads, 
 already turned ; and much good may it do anylody loho at- 
 tempts to sober them .'" The great man whom AValpole could 
 not see, was the young artillery of&cer, who undertook to 
 sober the Sections, and whose success formed the fii'st step 
 which led him, the son of a lawyer of Corsica, to an impe- 
 rial throne. "VValpole was right in saying that, Avhen he 
 wrote, conjectm-e of what might happen in France would be 
 
 foUy. 
 
 La 1794, the General fell under the suspicion of the au- 
 thorities, was dismissed from active service, and would per- 
 haps have sunk into oblivion, had not the Convention been 
 threatened with annihilation by the Sections, and Barras 
 bethought himself that his young friend Bonaparte was just 
 the man to put forward in such a difficulty. This was in 
 1795. 
 
 The Convention had framed a new constitution, which 
 sorely oftended the Parisians. It deprived them of much of 
 their electoral rights, and drove them into a rebellion, which 
 was suppressed chiefly by the musketry and cannon directed 
 against the insurrectionists by Bonaparte. He sprang into 
 reputation ; and between this rise and his final fall in 1815, 
 there stood exactly a score of years, — which were spent in 
 marvellous activity. 
 
 In the following year, and within three months, the young 
 General defeated the Austrians at Monte-Notte, Millesimo, 
 and Lodi, and laid heavy exactions on the Holy See, despite 
 the remonstrances of the Pope. In the same year, he again 
 defeated the Austrians at Castiglione and xlrcola. Five
 
 252 MONARCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS, 
 
 signal triumphs over the same enemy, within the single year 
 1796 ! In the following year, he beat them again, at RivoU ; 
 and after granting an armistice to his astounded foe, and 
 overrunning the Venetian States, he crossed to Egypt, and 
 fought the battle of the Pyramids in 1798, and that of 
 Aboukir, 1799. He besieged Acre, unsuccessfully, returned 
 to France, and was made Consul for ten years. 
 
 "We are accustomed to speak complacently of the blind- 
 ness of Napoleon in not effecting an alliance with England. 
 The fact, however, is, that he more than once sought to be 
 at peace with us, but the necessity of the times made of Eng- 
 land his constant and most generous adversary. Meanwhile, 
 the victories of Montebello and Marengo, won from the 
 Austrians in 1800, were followed by preparations to in- 
 vade England, in 1801, and the elevation of Napoleon to the 
 Consulship for life, and the institution of the Legion of 
 Honour in 1802. The Peace of Amiens, concluded that 
 year, was broken in 1803. In 1804, Napoleon was crowned 
 Emperor of the French, and in 1805, he crowned himself 
 King of Italy. In this same year, he offered us a peace, 
 which we rejected ; but, in place of invading England, he 
 again assailed Austria, captured the Austrian army, at TJlm, 
 and brought the year to a triumphant close, by his annihila- 
 tion of the combined hosts of Austria and Russia, at Aus- 
 terlitz. He was then just half-way between his elevation 
 and his fall. Of this, however, he knew nothing, for, as 
 Gerald Massey finely expresses it, — 
 
 " The chariot wheels 
 Of coming vengeance spin too swift for sight." 
 
 In 1806, Prussia affected to be able to chastise the dis- 
 turber of Europe, and was, in her turn, overwhelmed and 
 crushed at Jena. In 1807, Napoleon gained a victory over 
 the Czar, at Eylau ; and after defeating the Czar and the 
 King of Prussia, at Friedland, in the same year, he paused 
 in his career.
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 253 
 
 Between Friedland and Eckmiihl, where he defeated the 
 Austrian Archduke Charles (1S09), two years elapsed. Then 
 came the check at Essling, which proved that he who was 
 giving the thrones of Europe to his brothers and followers, 
 was not invincible. The serious check at Essling, however, 
 was avenged by the triumphant day at Wagram, when Na- 
 poleon once more overthrew his old adversaries, the Aus- 
 trians. Of victories, he had no more for three years. In 
 the course of that period occurred his marriage with Maria 
 Louisa, and his renewed offer of amity with England, which 
 was again declined. 
 
 Thereupon commenced the downfall of the Empire, by the 
 expedition against Russia, — the march to Moscow, and the 
 flight to Paris. In 1812, Napoleon beat the Russians at 
 Champ Sacre and Moscowa ; but ruin followed. It was 
 stayed for a while by the five victories of 1813, gained at 
 Liitzen and at Wurschen, over the Russians and Prussians ; 
 at Dresden and at Wachau, over the same enemies and the 
 Austrians ; and at Hanau, over the Austrians and Bavarians. 
 But his enemies were bent on dethroning him, and the 
 Allies entered Prance. Upon that territory he won (in 1814) 
 the victories of Champ-Aubert over the Russians, of Mout- 
 Mirail over those and their Prussian Allies, of Montereau 
 over the Wiirtembergers, and of Craone over the forces of 
 Russia and Prussia. But these victories were rendered 
 nugatory by the defeat of divisions of his army where Na- 
 poleon could not be present. The Allies entered Paris ; and 
 the Emperor, retiring to Pontainebleau, saw one by one fall 
 away from him, — all, save a faithful few, of those warriors 
 whose deeds in arms he had rewarded by kingly fortunes. 
 
 He hoped against hope, dreamed of a last struggle, was 
 convinced of his entire helplessness, and signed his abdica- 
 tion. 
 
 The "farewell" of Fontainebleau had been uttered. Na- 
 poleon had solaced his Guard by telling them that he would
 
 25i! MONAECHS EETIEED TEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 in his leisure be the historian of their deeds. Some officers 
 present, who could not follow him, broke their swords. Frejus 
 was reached, not without peril; and on the 28th of April, 1814, 
 the exile was afloat on board the ' Undaunted,' and under the 
 guardianship of Captain Ussher and other officers. He asto- 
 nished all around him by his knowledge of maritime affairs ; 
 charmed all by his afiability ; and gave all something to 
 meditate upon, by the monition that their respective Gro- 
 vernments would do well to watch Eussia, whose ambition 
 was vaster and more menacing than his had ever been. 
 
 On the 3rd of May he landed on the island which he had 
 selected for his kingdom. His new subjects were proud of 
 the honour ; and a homage was rendered to Napoleon, at 
 once hearty and simple. There were many in the island 
 however who at first would neither attend his dinners nor 
 join his evening parties. On one occasion, one hundred and 
 twenty were invited, and only twenty appeared, to enjoy the 
 profiered hospitality. 
 
 From the first day, Napoleon entered on the business of 
 his kingdom, its revenues, productions, prospects, alliances, 
 army, and national flag, as zealously as though he were con- 
 tent to reside there for ever. All these matters failed to 
 give him sufficiency of occupation. The monotony became 
 wearisome to all ; and it would have been intolerable, but 
 for the general conviction that there would soon ensue a 
 change of scene and a time for action. The once master of 
 continental Europe professed to be resigned to his island 
 home, and the care of his cows and chickens. No one be- 
 lieved in this resiguation. Josephine had touched his heart 
 by the note from Malmaison, in which were the words, " Say 
 one word, and I leave here." He did not require the com- 
 forter. His uiother and his sister Eliza arrived in the island, 
 as if to establish a household and set gaiety flowing in a 
 perpetual spring. It was the better to conceal an object to 
 which he was helped by the sublime imbecility of the Bour-
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 255 
 
 bons. There were pleasant little words dropped to his troops, 
 an incessant interchange of expresses, arrivals and depar- 
 tures of visitors, — and suddenly the captive had escaped ! 
 On the 29th of February, 1815, his face was tiu-ned towards 
 France ; and when the news of his landing reached the Con- 
 gress at Vienna, the potentates there were listening to the 
 French Vaudeville La Danse Interronqiue. 
 
 Napoleon landed at Cannes, near Frejus, on the 1st of 
 March, 1815. In one month and four days he entered Paris. 
 Within the next three weeks he became aware that his 
 position was one of extreme peril, and that France rather 
 accepted than welcomed him. At the end of another two 
 months he had fought his last fight at Waterloo, and was 
 deserted by victory. Five days after the battle, the Em- 
 peror signed his abdication in favour of his son, whom the 
 Senate acknowledged as Napoleon II. The unsceptred 
 monarch expressed a desire to be permitted to pass the re- 
 mainder of his days in England or in America. Within a 
 month after the fatal day at Waterloo, he placed himself 
 under the protection of the British flag, on board the ' Bel- 
 lerophon,' Captain IMaitland. He was thence transferred to 
 the ' Northumberland,' on board of which vessel he was con- 
 veyed to St. Helena, as "the prisoner of Europe." He ar- 
 rived at his last dwelling-place on the 15th October. Ex- 
 actly one year before, he had been playing at cards with his 
 mother, in his little saloon in the island of Elba ; and as 
 that illustrious lady was about to rise, after losing the game, 
 her imperial son said to her, laughingly, " Pay your debts, 
 Madam, pay your debts !" Since that time, Napoleon had 
 played a more serious game against a host of adversaries, 
 and had been defeated. The winners called upon him to 
 pay the penalty. 
 
 He was but forty-six years of age, — scarcely past the 
 prime of life, — when this game of ambition was played out, 
 and he became politically dead. They who least regretted
 
 256 MONAECHS RETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 his fall evinced some respect for the victim of so complete 
 a catastrophe. The only exception to this was on the part 
 of the Bourbonite pamphleteers. Their exultation found 
 such indecent expression, as to win for them the contempt 
 of moderate men, who otherwise shared their opinions. 
 
 It is difficult to suppose that at any period of Napoleon's 
 wonderful career he was hardly known in England. Southey 
 however has recorded the fact, that when the greatest of 
 continental captains was exciting the astonishment of all 
 Europe, — " poor old Mrs. Poole said to her son, ' My dear, 
 who is this Dr.Solomon, that all the world's talking about?' " 
 She was an invalid, and the Balm of Gilead was more to her 
 than a dozen revolutions. 
 
 Erom the terrible field of Waterloo to the calm and soli- 
 tary island in the Atlantic, was a wide step ; quickly, how- 
 ever reluctantly, made. The palaces of Francis the First and 
 Louis le Grand, and a lodging in a couple of rooms at Mr. 
 Balcombe's, presented wide contrasts. The extremes were 
 not greater than were to be discovered in the man himself. 
 He who had set the crown on his own head, who had given 
 the law to Europe, had swept victoriously across so many 
 fields, and had struggled so fimously and so ineffectually 
 on the last of them all, was, beneath Mr. Balcombe's roof, 
 willingly dependent on others, cautious not to disturb the 
 domestic economy, and, as apt as Alicibiades to adapt him- 
 self to circumstances, was " a child among the children." 
 The hero of Austerlitz played at blind-man's bufi"; and he 
 allowed little Miss Balcombe to enjoy all the delight she 
 could find in dropping sealing-wax on one of the fairest 
 hands that ever belonged to a soldier. 
 
 That soldier, who had in the space of a few years filled the 
 world with wonder, Europe with ruin, and France with glory 
 and tears, had now before him little more than five years
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 257 
 
 and a half, wherein to meditate upon what he had done, 
 adjust his mantle ere he fell, and finally die with decency. 
 
 His subjects for meditation were many and heavy. In his 
 brief yet brilliant career, he had surpassed all other con- 
 querors since Osymandyas, the first warlike King who deso- 
 lated the earth, or Palamedes of Argos, the earliest ranger of 
 an army in battle array. No monarch had ever been so stricken 
 as Napoleon, with that fondness for war which has been 
 called by Erasmus the " malady of princes." His struggle 
 Avith England cost us £1,159,000,000. The six Peninsular 
 campaigns cost Erance, in men, 600,000 lives. The Allies did 
 not suflier less. 1,200,000 beings perished in one corner of 
 Eui-ope alone. Erom this sacrifice of men and money, in a 
 portion only of the unparalleled struggle, may be guessed 
 at what fearful cost Napoleon had maintained a few years 
 of glory, and covered Erance, at last, with an invading and 
 triumphant enemy. 
 
 Europe now held him prisoner, and England had charge of 
 his person. He had hated her more bitterly than any of 
 his enemies. He had seen the immense advantages to be 
 derived from peace, if not an alliance, with England ; and 
 he had never been able to render such a circumstance agree- 
 able but to the eyes of a few statesmen in Great Britain. 
 He was, nevertheless, ever ready to acknowledge the prowess 
 of his great adversary. He confessed his inability to de- 
 prive that enemy pf the empire of the sea ; and at "Water- 
 loo, while Ney admired the bravery of the red lines and 
 squares of the English infantry. Napoleon rendered full 
 justice to the " terribles ehevaux gris." 
 
 He had said that his captivity should be devoted to the re- 
 cording of the deeds of his army. Before he entered on that 
 retiring-time, and when the business of the monarch was of 
 the most absorbing, he was no unjust, although a proud, 
 commentator on the achievements of the troops under his 
 command. M. Bausset tells us, that on Napoleon's return
 
 258 MONAECIIS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 from the campaign at Austerlitz, M. Denon was introduced 
 to him at breakfast, with his hands full of medals. The 
 series of these medals commenced at the departure of the 
 army from Boulogne for the Rhine : the first had on one 
 side the head of Napoleon, and on the reverse an eagle 
 grasping a leopard. " What does that mean ?" said Napo- 
 leon. " Sire," said Denon, " that is the French eagle choking 
 in its claws a leopard, one of the attributes of the arms of 
 England." " I was in an ecstasy of delight," saj^s Bausset, 
 " when I saw the Emperor throw the medal of gold violently 
 to the bottom of the saloon, saying to M. Denon, ' Vile 
 flatterer ! how dare you say that the French eagle chokes 
 the EngHsh leopard ? I cannot put a fishing-boat to sea but 
 the English seize it. It is the English leopard, I think, that 
 chokes the French eagle. Have this medal melted directly, 
 and never present me with another like it !' Running over 
 the other medals, and taking up the one of Austerlitz, he 
 found fault with the composition of it, and again ordered 
 poor M. Denon to liave it melted. ' Put only on one side 
 Battle of Austerlitz, with its date ; and on the other the 
 French, the xiustrian, and the Eussian eagles. "We need 
 not tell posterity which was the conqueror.' " 
 
 This was the vanquished enemy whom Europe held. As 
 the greatest of captives, he was not dishonoured, though 
 irretrievably beaten. As a quaint writer remarks, — 
 
 " He that is valiant and dares fight. 
 Though drubb'd, can lose no hononr by't. 
 Honour's a lease for lives to come. 
 And cannot be extended from 
 The legal tenant. ' Tis a chattel 
 Not to be forfeited in battle. 
 If he that in the field is slain 
 Be in the bed of honour lain, 
 He that is beaten may be said 
 To lie in honour's truckle-bed.^' 
 
 It is to be regretted that the years of the uncrowned
 
 A TAMILT OF KINGS. 259 
 
 time of a man who had filled such a position in the world 
 should have been deficient in calm and majestic dignity. 
 This indeed was as little to be found in those who held, as in 
 him who was holden. There was exasperation mingled with 
 joy, in the captors ; there was the bitter sense, the smarting 
 pain of an irrecoverable fall, in the captured. But if there 
 was a pitiable lack of dignity on either side, the chief cause 
 lay, not in the principal parties, but in the subordinates. JS^a- 
 poleon was surrounded by weak, faithful, foolish, and not 
 over-veracious companions in exile. These would not per- 
 mit him to be resigned to a condition of existence, almost in- 
 tolerable indeed, but which was never likely to be amelior- 
 ated, while such men stood between him and his victors. 
 A wild bison, on a lonely prairie, grand and fearful in his 
 solitude, is a spectacle that has its sublimity ; but if the 
 monarch of the plains, pricked to it by the stings of the 
 parasitical animals that cling to him, takes to rolling on his 
 back, flinging his hoofs in the air, and lashing his tail throiigh 
 the grass, he simply looks ridiculous in his helplessness. It 
 was just so with jN'apoleon in his retirement. There was no 
 dignity in it, till he ceased to be influenced by the med- 
 dlings of his too-oificious followers. When he devoted him- 
 self to gardening he became as worthy of respect as Caias 
 Valerius Jovius, at Salona. 
 
 Let it be now confessed that the provocation did not 
 come entirely from the same side. The allied sovereigns 
 had no more right to degrade the Emperor to the rank of a 
 General, than they might have had to reduce Bavaria, which 
 had been raised from an Electorate to a Kingdom by jN^apo- 
 leon, back to an Electorate. The pertinacity with which 
 his followers, in their applications to the authorities, spoke 
 of their master as " the Emperor," might have been wisely 
 allowed to pass unnoticed. The way in which Sir George 
 Cockburn afi'ected to be entii'ely ignorant of the existence 
 of any such personage as an "Emperor" on the island, was
 
 260 MONAECllS EETIRED FEOil BUSINESS. 
 
 unworthy of so gallant an officer. He was well aware tliat 
 tlie once master of Europe, — tlie son-in-law of the German 
 Kaiser, — the conqueror to whom Russia had feloniously 
 offered at Tilsit to sacrifice her allies, and with him to divide 
 the world, — the potentate, for audience with whom kings 
 had patiently tarried in his antechamber, — the Emperor who, 
 by virtue of his imperial power, had made Bavaria a kingdom 
 and permitted his lieutenant to be heir to the crown of Swe- 
 den, only to be paid in treachery by both those highly bene- 
 fited parties, — Sir George knew that this " Emperor," who 
 was not indeed any longer Emperor of the French, was on 
 the island; and if it was pitiful to deny to him the title, it 
 was ignoble to do so in terms of rudeness. But it was the 
 humour of the day to gratify the Bourbons, who themselves 
 were ignoble under every circumstance save calamity ; and 
 it was the fashion to ridicule the pretensions of the followers 
 of Napoleon, who clung to him after his fall. We forgot 
 that the unfounded pretensions of Edward III. to the French 
 throne had, failing all else, been asserted by Harding to be 
 unassailable, on the ground 
 
 " That Christ was King, btj his mother, of Judaea ; 
 Which sykerer side is aye, as thinketh me." 
 
 Sir Hudson Lowe manifested much more sense when he 
 proposed that the name "Napoleon Bonaparte" should be 
 employed, as one which might be as justly used on one side 
 as acknowledged by the other. But then Sir Hudson him- 
 self, who had one of those difficult missions which he could 
 not accomplish to the satisfaction of any party, — Montholon 
 confessed that an archangel from Heaven could not have 
 succeeded, — exhibited a manifold lack of judgment when he 
 invited " General Bonaparte" to dinner, to meet the Coun- 
 tess of Loudon and Moira. It is due to the reputation of 
 Napoleon for courtesy, to state that, on this occasion, where 
 a lady was concerned, he overlooked what he was otherwise
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 261 
 
 instigated to regard as an affront ; and lie ^vrote to the 
 Countess, informing her that he should have been happy to 
 meet her, but that she was beyond his "limit." The latter 
 signified the twelve-mile boundary which Napoleon could 
 not cross without an English officer being in close attend- 
 ance on him ; a regulation which, however necessary, was 
 to Mm inexpressibly odious. 
 
 The Imperial prisoner had himself suggested a plan to 
 obxdate any further protocoUing on the subject of names 
 and titles. It was a sensible compromise, by which he pro- 
 posed to take the incognito title of Baron Duroc or Count 
 Meudon. Nothing however came of it ; and yet this small 
 concession might have been granted to a man who, in his 
 little day, had seemed able to accomplish any object, except 
 inducing Maria Louisa to visit Josephine. 
 
 Napoleon was certainly the most troublesome, as well as 
 the most illustrious, prisoner, ever confided to mortal guar- 
 dianship. It was no dishonourable post for a gallant soldier 
 to be the host of one so famous, — of one who should have 
 been the guest, under certain restraint, of a host who coidd 
 mingle courtesy with firmness, and make delicate attention 
 compatible with duty. Under the circumstances this was 
 impossible. Between the Government at home, who en- 
 couraged the communications of a spy on the actions and 
 conversation of Napoleon, and the petulance of the Empe- 
 ror's followers, whose chorus of complaints was made for the 
 pui-pose of compelling a liberty which receded from their 
 view, because of their own extravagance, Sir Hudson Lowe 
 was worried into fears, suspicions, passions, rash acts, foolish 
 words, sacrifice of a respectable character, and the loss of a 
 desirable pension. There were faults on all sides, and blind 
 prejudice, and wonderful pettiness; but these were not so 
 much in the principals as in those who stood behind them. 
 Napoleon regretted the weakness of being rendered pas- 
 sionate by what he considered insulting conduct on the
 
 262 MONAECHS RETIRED EEOM BTJSIKESS. 
 
 part of Sir Hudson Lowe. He also denounced the distor- 
 tion of truth, which was the weakness of Count Bertrand ; 
 and he despised the officious mendacity, which was the 
 characteristic of Santini. On the other hand, Sir Hudson 
 Lowe Avas never intentionally disrespectful ; but his instruc- 
 tions were precise, and he was not of those generous minds 
 that can dare to transgress and to judge for themselves. 
 ]S"apoleou was probably not very incorrect when he remarked 
 to Sir Hudson, " Tou pay compliments while you stick pins 
 in us." 
 
 This was in some degree true. Napoleon, for instance, knew 
 of the arrival of a lock of hair from his son, and that it was 
 for some time detained from him, A bust of the ex-King of 
 Eome was also withheld for several days, under some doubt 
 of the propriety, or some fear of the peril, of forwarding it. 
 Books addressed to the "Emperor" were kept back, and 
 volumes forwarded by the "Emperor" were not sent to 
 their destination. But then the offerings made to the exile 
 often arrived in the island by unpermitted ways and means ; 
 this caused anger and it suggested watchfulness ; but these 
 things were not in themselves causes of discourtesy on the 
 part of Sir Hudson ; and on the other hand, Napoleon was 
 not particular when his gratification was in view. The Em- 
 peror would accept with great delight a gift of good cofiee, 
 even though it were addressed to " General Bonaparte." 
 
 There Avas one point of discipline whicli caused more 
 annoyance to every party than any other regulation which 
 the Governor was compelled to enforce, or to which Napo- 
 leon refused to submit. This was his being seen twice 
 within the twenty-four hours, by an officer. The Emperor 
 himself had once remarked that from tlie sublime to the 
 ridiculous there was only a step. That step was the one 
 between the fallen Emperor and the officer Avho was for ever 
 endeavouring to get a glance at him, and from whom the 
 illustrious captive was constantly " dodging." Poor Captain
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 2G3 
 
 I^icuols was sometimes on his feet during twelve hours, 
 liovering round the house at Longwood, endeavouring his 
 very utmost to perform his painful duty courteously, and 
 finding constant obstruction in his way. At one time the best 
 proof that could be got of the safe custody of the caj)tive, 
 was the ringing of the bell of his private room ! On another 
 occasion the officer was obliged to be content with perceiving 
 Napoleon's cocked-hat swaying from side to side at the 
 dinner-table ; but he could not tell on whose head it might 
 have been. Again, considerable was the satisfaction, on an- 
 other occasion, at perceiving Napoleon on horseback, taking 
 a healthy ride within his limits, and attended by one of his 
 household. The officer had the captive in view during this 
 equestrian excursion, by means of his glass. The ride oc- 
 curred more than once, but suspicion seems to have been 
 aroused with regard to the chief horseman. With the arous- 
 ing of suspicion, down went delicacy ; and the rider, on being 
 confronted, turned out to be a priest who had assumed 
 something like the dress of the Emperor, and was proud 
 to pass for the great man, who was on his sofa, or in the 
 bath, laughing at the trick put upon those who had him 
 in custody. 
 
 The fatigue to the officer who had to report the presence 
 of the Emperor was excessive. On his delicately intima- 
 ting to some of the chief officials of the household that 
 his duty might be facilitated by them without inconvenience 
 to their master, it was gravely proposed to him to " peep 
 through the key-hole." To this degradation however he 
 would not submit ; and when they were almost as weary as he, 
 they would come to his relief by lifting a blind for him, so that 
 Irom the exterior of the house he could obtain a rapid glance 
 into the interior of the room in which Napoleon was walking 
 or sitting. Or his officers, by means of some of the children 
 about the establishment, would allure him, for a moment, to 
 the window overlooking the garden. The overseer, if w?
 
 261 MONAECIIS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 may so speak, once reported liis having seen Napopleon, in 
 this way, with a red handkerchief round his head, and 
 looking ghastly. In fact his health was suifering from his 
 obstinate refusal to go out or take exercise. The refusal was 
 natural enough in such a man. It must have been in the 
 highest degree irksome to him to be watched ; and the idea 
 that every occurrence out of the common way which took 
 place at Longwood was telegraphed to the Government 
 House, was insupportable. 
 
 He generally contrived to get rid of importunate visitors 
 by an announcement that he was in his bath. Nor was this 
 always an excuse. He was excessively fond of the bath. In 
 Europe he was never known to omit its daily use, except 
 under extraordinary circumstances. He was used to follow 
 it up by rubbing his body over with Eau de Cologne ; and 
 the only additional luxury he ever cared for, was that of 
 changing his linen several times during the twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 Another of the difficulties of this captivity was this very 
 question of linen. There was a scarcity of that very neces- 
 sary article for the use of the Emperor ; but Sir Hudson was 
 anxious to supply that and every other deficiency, if certain 
 forms were observed ; but it was said/br rather than hy Napo- 
 leon, that he would rather wear his shirt till it fell from his 
 back, than apply formally for a fresh supply of linen. Of 
 course, his own means were ample enough to supply him 
 with anything he lacked ; but nothing could reach him with- 
 out being subjected to previous examination. Even when 
 the good-natured French Commissioners offered to send him 
 some haricot Leans, and asked him whether he preferred the 
 ivhite or the green, there was an uneasy suspicion in the 
 Governor's mind that some dreadful meaning was disguised 
 under this allusion to the Bourbon and the Imperial colours. 
 The Governor might have had less suspicion of a man whom 
 he could compel to retire within-doors by nine o'clock, and
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 265 
 
 whose only crown now was the one cut in the turf, between 
 the tent which temporarily served him, and the house in 
 which he sojourned for awhile, at the Briars. 
 
 Amid all the annoyances, the exasperations, and the dis- 
 appointed hopes which marked the dreary season of his se- 
 clusion, the mind of Napoleon remained exceedingly clear, 
 and it was willingly employed on both retrospect and futu- 
 rity. He discussed, on one occasion, the project of what is 
 now becoming a reality, — a ship-canal across the isthmus of 
 Suez ; — and it was, perhaps, no symptom of a more than 
 ordinary intelligence which can be found in his remark that 
 such a canal would facilitate the conquest of India. It was 
 at Longwood that he concisely observed, that success in war 
 remained with the commander who made the fewest mistakes. 
 He would occasionally sit deep into the night, engaged in 
 writing ; and of aU his convictions none was so ineradicable 
 as that the Bourbons were an effete race, that France would 
 be weary of them, and that a crisis would again arrive, when 
 that country would rejoice to owe its security once more to 
 a member of the family of Bonaparte. He was satisfied that 
 his family alone could unite all parties under its dominion; 
 but he argued so, probably, less from the knowledge of 
 what his own despotic government had effected, than from 
 the fact that he was personally of that attractive quality 
 which could attach to his fortunes men so opposite in opi- 
 nions and characters as the Jacobin Cipriani and the aristo- 
 cratic Bertrand. His studies continued to the end to be of 
 a martial character ; and he would rise half-a-dozen times in 
 the night, to make some note on the disposition of a battle- 
 field, when he was particularly interested in the question as 
 to the respective merits of lines two deep, like the English, 
 or three deep, as was then the manner, and according to him, 
 the superior one, with the Prench. 
 
 Military visitors he invariably received with the greatest 
 condescension, — but he invariably asked an Englishman, 
 
 TOL. I. N
 
 266 MONAROHS BETIBED PEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 ■•' how often he got druuk." "We had an ill-odoured repu- 
 tation in those days for vinous excesses ; and this was the 
 very worst sort of reputation in the eyes of a man remarkable 
 for his sobriety, who preferred the best wine, indeed, but 
 who drank of it sparingly, and who wovdd have been de- 
 spised by those wretched, tippling, old Scotch judges who 
 gaily in their cups sent men to the scaffold, and who would 
 have pronounced Napoleon as worthy of the same end, on no 
 other ground than his wicked and malicious sobriety. 
 
 Down to the year 1819, the life of tlie ex-Emperor at 
 Longwood was a continual struggle against the supremacy 
 of the Governor. The latter was designated as an assassin ; 
 now the dampness, and anon the dryness, of the atmosphere 
 were spoken of, as if he were in some way chargeable with 
 either circumstance ; aud even the absence of trees around 
 Longwood seemed to be a consequence of some evil pro- 
 ceeding of his own. Poor Sir Hudson might as well have 
 been accused of being the cause of Lady Malcolm's defeat- 
 ing Napoleon at chess. The Governor had gone so far as 
 to declare that Longwood was not a fit residence for a gene- 
 ral officer ; and yet, and in spite of its having been selected 
 by Napoleon himself for his dwelling-place, all its desagre- 
 mens were now traced to some machinations of Sir Hud- 
 son's. 
 
 The true dignity of Napoleon in exile was to be seen 
 chiefly in his in-door life ; in his social intercourse with his 
 few followers ; and in his pursuits within his own little do- 
 main. When the members of his restricted Court wei'e not 
 at feud with each other, and when they had sufiicient re- 
 spect for their sovereign not to appeal to him to be the 
 arbiter of their dissensions, tlie home at Longwood had its 
 compensations for tlie heavy calamity of captivity. There 
 were evening readings, — at one time of history, at another of 
 dramatic pieces, — and the ex-Emperor would himself con- 
 descend to read aloud scenes from Corneille, Eacine, and
 
 A FAMILY OF KIKGS. 267 
 
 Moliere. These readings would lead to conversations, in 
 wliich there was sometimes a playful affectation of forgetful- 
 ness of the imprisoned condition of those who took part in 
 it ; and Napoleon would sportively inquire of his hearers 
 where they would prefer to spend the evening, — at the 
 Opera, the Feydeau, or at the Theatre rran9ais ? At other 
 times, the newspapers would unsettle them by the para- 
 graphs they contained, touching alleged reports that the Go- 
 vernments of Europe were agreed on the reasonableness of 
 merely banishing the Emperor from Europe, and of permit- 
 ting him to have the remainder of the world before him 
 where to choose. These reports gave rise to animated dis- 
 cussions ; and designs were projected and dreams were in- 
 dulged in, and imagination set the imprisoned party free, 
 and in fancy they were ranging the American continent in 
 glorious unconstraint. Hermotimus himself never more 
 completely detached his spiritual from his bodily being, than 
 these illustrious prisoners, when a little prospect was afforded 
 them of a possible liberty. 
 
 Even when stern realties made them sad again, Napoleon 
 was the first to check the melancholy strain of their conver- 
 sation. Bertrand, in his letter to Joseph, adds to these de- 
 tails that the Emperor was really above misfortune, that he 
 seemed among his old friends to forget what he had been, 
 and that his courage, sense, and philosophy were above all 
 praise. Within his own circle, and when not annoyed by 
 exaggerated statements concerning Sir Hudson Lowe, whose 
 greatest offence was in the strict performance of his greatest 
 duty, — a vigilance so indefatigable as to be intolerable to 
 those who were the subjects of it, — Avhen these matters were 
 not too heavily pressed on the attention of the Emperor, he 
 was, if not happy, at least of a dignified tranquillity. No 
 doubt he was sustained by the hope of freedom being ulti- 
 mately extended to him. It was only when this hope was 
 removed by the serious decline of his health, that he wallied 
 
 N 2
 
 268 MONARcns eetieed tkom business. 
 
 more frequently to the spot which he had selected for his 
 grave, and repeated more frequently the passage from 'Zaire,' 
 which terminates with the line — 
 
 "A revoii" Paris je ue dois plus pretench'e !" 
 
 ToATards the close of 1819, the noticeable decline in the 
 health of the Emperor caused a change in the system of his 
 life. He came more into his garden, took an interest in what 
 was going on there, found pleasure in having children about 
 him, and superintended the labours of his Chinese gardeners. 
 Subsequently, he woidd take the spade himself, and, in a 
 white dressing-gown and broad-brimmed straw-hat, would 
 work with some vigour, and set an example which was fol- 
 lowed with more or less alacrity by the great and little peo- 
 ple of his household. He enjoyed now the innocent triumph 
 of transplanting several trees with success, and still more 
 the luxury of drinking his coifee and sitting at evening be- 
 neath their shade. 
 
 It was characteristic of him that he defended this terri- 
 tory from invasion with as much jealousy as if it formed a 
 portion of a dominion within v\hich a throne of his own was 
 created. Pigs, kids, or fowls would ever cross the sacred 
 frontier. They paid dearly for their intrusion. The Imperial 
 fowling-piece laid them low. The noblest enemy against 
 whom he had to contend was a bull now and then, who, hav- 
 ing a contempt for his fences, would break through and 
 commence pastui'ing on the Imperial grass. The rifle or the 
 fowling-piece again rendered justice to the lord of the do- 
 main, who became so fond of using his weapon and firing 
 risfht and left, wherever he fancied that he was assailed, that 
 some anxiety was at length aroused, and Sir Hudson actually 
 sent a hypothetical case home for the opinion of the Counsel 
 for the Crown, wherein it was asked, that, supposing a life 
 were lost by the dangerous amusement indulged in by " Ge- 
 neral Bonapai'te," could the latter be made amenable to law,
 
 A FAMILY OF KIXGS. 269 
 
 and the penalties attaching to murder or manslaughter be 
 exacted from him ? It would have been an extraordinary 
 close to such a career, if the Emperor, crowned by a Pope, 
 had finished as a convict at Botany Bay, or by a more dis- 
 agreeable catastrophe at the hands of the island Cal craft at 
 St. Helena. 
 
 It is not known what reply was returned by the law-ofB.- 
 cers of the Crown ; and as Napoleon laid aside his fowling- 
 piece, his own good sense may have prevented a misfortune. 
 In May, 1820, he resumed his equestrian exercise, after aban- 
 doning it for nearly three years ; and shortly after, he paid 
 a visit to the house of Sir William Doveton, dined in the 
 Knight's garden, chiefly on viands brought by the Imperial 
 purveyors from Longwood, and charmed all present by his 
 amenity, although he did ask Lady Doveton, " how often Sir 
 William got drunk?" The Knight, in his turn, described 
 his visitor as looking " as fat and as round as a China pig." 
 
 Now Corvisart had years before warned Napoleon that 
 with obesity would come peril to his life. The one and the 
 other were now, indeed, existing. One morning in Novem- 
 ber, the Emperor was walking near his garden ; in com2:)any 
 with him was the little daughter of an English soldier, and, 
 in attendance. Count Montholon. The august prisoner be- 
 came suddenly so faint as to be compelled to recline by the 
 side of the road. The Count attempted to rally him ; but 
 the remark of Napoleon, that it was unseemly to jest with 
 death, rendered the attendant serious. The hand of death 
 was indeed over him, but some months elapsed before it 
 fatally closed upon him. Those months were a time of slow 
 but certain agony. His own terse comment on his condi- 
 tion was, "there is no more oil in the lauip." He sought 
 communion with a priest ; but he required a man of intel- 
 lect and refinement. He had long before remarked that he 
 could not be brought to devotion by a man who could speak 
 of heavenly truths in a coarse nud vulgar way. " Could I
 
 270 MONARCHS RETIKED TEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 commune with a priest like that ?" was his question, as he 
 once pointed to a messenger whose capacity was beneath his 
 message. The feeling of Napoleon was akin to that of the 
 dying Prench grammarian who, on hearing a cure describe 
 the joys of heaven with much violence to syntax, begged of 
 him to desist, as he cared not to hear a high theme marred 
 by offences against grammar. 
 
 The appetite of the Emperor almost entirely failed. He 
 was iu constant pain ; he rejected food, and could not even 
 eat a small portion of a dove, shot to tempt the appetite of 
 one who was now known to be dying of scirrhous cancer. 
 Hitherto, his medical men, English and foreign, had pro- 
 nounced him to be suffering from an affection of the liver. 
 It has been proved, however, that but for the soundness of 
 the liver, which adhered to, or formed a sort of side to the 
 stomach, where the latter was eaten away, the Emperor's 
 life would have been shorter than it was. He who had, in 
 the eyes of his triumphant hosts, looked like a god, enthroned 
 in his saddle, on the field of battle, might \\ .wbe seen feebly 
 endeavouring to take some exercise, seated on a plank sup- 
 ported only in the middle, and at the other end of which 
 Avas placed a weight equal to his oavu. 
 
 The details of the mortal illness of this foremost man in 
 all the world, are too well known to need recapitulation. 
 Even in those of his life, the salient points alone have been 
 preserved, to display the contrasts between his glory and his 
 fall. He resisted medical aid sent from Government House 
 as long as he could ; but that aid, even if it had reached him 
 sooner, could not have prolonged his life a day. On the 
 30th of April, 1821, he was seized with a death chill, which 
 broke down the strength both of liis body and intellect. His 
 disturbed mind wandered from the present to the past, or 
 into the future. It was everywhere, save at St. Helena. In 
 this condition he lay, in alternate states of repose, troubled 
 dreams, disturbed waking thoughts, and often pain, till the
 
 A FAMILY or KINGS. 271 
 
 5tli of May. On that day, te progressively sank, witliout a 
 rallying symptom. His death-chamber was undisturbed by a 
 sound, save those caused by the emotion of the friends who 
 watched his last moments. The elements without, however, 
 were not so calm. They were at deadly and flashing strife. 
 Such a storm had not thundered over the island for many 
 years ; and amid the deluge of its descending rain, the gleam- 
 ing of its lightnings, and the peal of its batteries of thun- 
 der, the once great Napoleon, murmuring the words Tefp 
 d^annee, passed away to the tribunal whither he had sent 
 millions by his over-reaching ambition. 
 
 As they who stooped over him, looked on the graceful 
 majesty of his now unimpassioned face and the wonderful 
 fairness of his hands, they could not help exclaiming, " How 
 beautiful !" Such was the farewell of the living to the 
 personal graces of the hero whose mind was vast enough 
 to conceive the idea of conquering the world, and yet (as it 
 was said) little enough to bequeath a leg.icy to that Cantil- 
 lon who had attempted to assassinate the Duke of Welling- 
 ton — the most chivalrous and the most glorious opponent 
 that ever encountered Napoleon in the field. This alleged 
 bequest, however, is not named in the last will of the Em- 
 peror, which was deposited in London after his death, and 
 which was recently given up to the present Imperial govern- 
 ment, to be deposited among the archives of the French 
 capital. 
 
 There remain now to be noticed those brothers of Napo- 
 leon who, like himself, lost the crowns which they had briefly 
 worn. The eldest of them, Joseph, like Napoleon, was not 
 lorn a Frenchraan. His birth took place at Corte, in 1768, 
 a year before Paoli's overthrow and Napoleon's birth, and 
 just six years before the island of Corsica fell definitively 
 into the power of France, and just tv.elve after Theodore, 
 ex-Eang of Corsica, was consigned to a pauper's grave in 
 the churchyard of St. Anne's, Soho.
 
 272 MONARCHS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Under the Freuch Government of Corsica, Joseph Bona- 
 parte began life as a quiet student of the law, followed 
 by a clerkship in a bureau of civil administration. His 
 more active career commenced after the flight of the family 
 to France, subsequent to the attempt of Paoli to render 
 Corsica independent. 
 
 In 1794 Joseph married Mademoiselle Julie Clary, daugh- 
 ter of a merchant of Marseilles. By his brother's influence 
 he was also appointed a Commissary of "War. Ten years 
 after (1804), the ex-clerk was heir-presumptive to his bro- 
 ther's newly-foiinded French Empire. At the end of an- 
 other ten years, 1814, he had refused one crown, worn two, 
 lost both, and saw the Imperial throne overturned. Again 
 ten years had passed when, in 1824, Lafayette was at his 
 side in that palatial American farm which, like Diocletian's, 
 though on a smaller scale, was more like the residence of a 
 monarch than the homestead of a " clod-compeller." The 
 weakest and vainest of patriots offered to restore the Napo- 
 leon dynasty, if Joseph would furnish ths managing com- 
 mittee with a couple of million of francs ! At the end of 
 another ten years Joseph, who had then been two years re- 
 siding in England, was convinced, it is said, that the re-con- 
 struction of tlie Empire was within the category of possi- 
 bilities. It was not, however, to be accomplished in Ms 
 time. Ten years more, and those chiefly j^ears of sufleriug, 
 had passed away when Joseph himself died at Florence, in 
 1844. Just half a century had elapsed since lie had married 
 tlie mei'chant's daugliter and had obtained a modest appoint- 
 ment in the AYar Commissariat. In the interim lie had 
 played many parts, the grandest of which brought him the 
 greatest sorrow, and the humblest of which cost him a great 
 jjortion of his fortune. He played no part with success ; 
 his intentions were good, but "circumstance" was terribly 
 adverse to him : ambition might be cured by a study of 
 Joseph's career alone.
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 
 
 273 
 
 Soon after Le became, for a season, presumptive heii- to 
 the Empire, he declined the crown of Lombardy ; but in 
 1806 he was not permitted to decline that of Naples. 
 During the two years of his Neapolitan royalty he governed 
 the kingdom with rare discretion, when contrasted with the 
 policy which had been overthro^^^l, — a policy Avhich now 
 makes of the King of Naples the outlaw of Christian and 
 civilized nations. 
 
 Joseph was summoned by his irresistible brother, in 1808, 
 to exchange the Neapolitan for the Spanish crown ; and he 
 truthfully told his Italian subjects that he was about to bend 
 to a grievous burden. What it cost France to support him 
 while staggering beneath the load, the world knows well ; 
 and it was characteristic of the first Napoleon, to tell the 
 Spaniards, as he did, in his significant proclamation of 1809, 
 that if they refused to loyally submit to his brother, they 
 should have him ! Aud indeed they had him, by deputy ; 
 for the French Marshals in Spain were the true kings in 
 their districts ; and Joseph was made to feel this so heavily, 
 that in 1812 he requested, but in vain, for permission to lay 
 down his sceptre. 
 
 The force of events struck it from his hands at last, and 
 Napoleon himself was not able to restore it, or to keep it 
 from the grasp of the ignoble Ferdinand. Though an un- 
 crowned King, Joseph soon found himself bearing imperial 
 responsibilities, and esercising the delicate office of Lieu- 
 tenant- General of a falling Empire. Between the first fall 
 and the Hundred Days, Joseph resided unmolested at Fran- 
 gins, near Lausanne ; and when the Hundred Days had come 
 to an end, the ex-King of Spain made his way to the side of 
 his procrastinating brother, and generously offered to per- 
 sonate him, Avhile the ex-Emperor effected his escape. The 
 generous offer was not accepted ; and while the dethroned 
 Emperor was, by his conversation, charming those who were 
 conveying him captive to his island residence, Joseph was 
 
 n3
 
 274 MONAECHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 crossing the Atlantic in an American brig, which had been 
 in waiting for him at the mouth of the Gironde. 
 
 In the month of September, 1815, the Count de Survil- 
 liers, as the ex-King now called himself, arrived at New 
 York. The illustrious exile was on the point of turning 
 away from the hotel, which was too crowded to afford him 
 accommodation, when Mr. Clay eagerly hurried to the wan- 
 derer and his suite, hospitably offering them not only his 
 own apartments, but the dinner which had just been pre- 
 pared for himself and companions. 
 
 The reception of the Count de Survilliers by the governing 
 men of the United States, was of the very heartiest. This 
 was natural; for the American Government gave its substan- 
 tial sympathies to that French Empire which crushed Euro- 
 pean liberty, as the Government of later times rendered a 
 still more substantial sympathy to the Muscovite Empire, 
 whose felonious ambition it is to enslave the European Con- 
 tinent. In both these cases, however, the Government must 
 be taken as distinct from the people. But in all cases, the 
 American system is so framed as to place the entire republic, 
 for a time, at the mercy of unprincipled and juggling des- 
 pots. But that only concerns those who choose to submit 
 to it. The American citizens, at all events, received Joseph 
 nobly, and the exile did honour to the reception. He came 
 among them splendidly provided for ; and amid the wrecks 
 of empire, he had contrived to float to land, dragging after 
 him a salvage in which all was costly. He had economized 
 largely on the civil lists of Naples and Spain ; and probably 
 no ex-King ever commenced a destitute condition, so magni- 
 ficently endowed as Joseph. 
 
 He travelled, observed, made speeches, and, at length, 
 settled down in New Jersey. He was a foreigner, and could 
 not liold real estate. He was not, lie said, in a position to 
 profit by the law which could confer upon him "the precious 
 and honourable title of an American citizen," and he ^^ must
 
 A FAMILY OF KlJv'aS. "li O 
 
 be a Freucliman." The law was made tobeud for liiiii ; and 
 Joseph, who had not given up all hope of a re- construction 
 of the Empire, was permitted to purchase land, without 
 taking up his American citizenship. 
 
 The 'Berkeley Men,' in their pleasant though, prejudiced 
 book on the JSTapoleon Dynasty, thus describe the life led by 
 Joseph at Point Breeze, on the Delaware, twenty miles from 
 Philadelphia : — - 
 
 " He purchased nine or ten adjoining farms ; laid out and 
 adorned an extensive park ; built roads and bridges ; and 
 erected a vast edifice, on the plan of an Italian palace, with 
 the courtyard open on one side. This superb mansion was 
 enriched by his entire collection of paintings, busts, statues, 
 precious stones, ancient relics, and curiosities, which he bad 
 amassed in France, Italy, and Spain. Every luxury which 
 wealth could purchase, and every appliance of comfort and 
 taste, Avhich art, learning, and refinement could suggest, 
 adorned and embellished this palatial seat of hospitality. 
 x4.t Bordentown alone, he expended on his estate nearly a 
 million of dollars. He had brought with him most of his 
 old secretaries and servants. They remained faithfully at- 
 tached to him through life ; and those he had not enriched 
 when living, he left independent at his death. . . . Like all 
 the Bonapartes, he rose early and did his work in the morn- 
 ing. He remained in his library, engaged in reading and 
 writing, till eleven, when he met his friends at breakfast, 
 which usually occupied half-an-hour. He generally went 
 over his grounds, to give directions about the improvements 
 in progress. Dinner came at five o'clock, and his table was 
 almost sure to be surrounded by distinguished guests." The 
 ' Berkeley Men ' add, with a touch of satire which applies to 
 other localities as well as it is applied by them to their co- 
 republicans, — whom the world would not be prepared to sus- 
 pect of being open to such satire, — that Joseph, "in his new 
 residence, acquired tlie influence and esteem always accorded
 
 276 MONARCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 to an illustrious man of great icealtJi, generosity, and liospi- 
 tality" Human nature, among our excellent cousins, is 
 much the same that it is elsewhere. 
 
 As landholder and farmer, Joseph was pre-eminently un- 
 lucky ; and much of his princely fortune was sacrificed in 
 unfortunate speculations. In 1820, his palatial residence 
 near Bordentown was destroyed by fire, at a time when he 
 was absent. The character of Joseph may be seen in the 
 conduct of his neighbours towards him, on this occasion. 
 They turned out, and, by their exertions, rescued half the 
 valuable contents of his mansion from destruction. Had he 
 been a bad neighbour, the discriminating Americans would 
 have looked on and enjoyed the ruin. The grateful ex-monarch 
 expressed his thanks in a letter of much dignity and simplicity, 
 adding to it an assiu'ance which, naturally, gratified those 
 to wliom it was addressed, — that of all the people among 
 whom he had resided, he knew of none who were so happy as 
 the people of the United States. But Joseph was always re- 
 markable for a touch of satirical feeling, and he went on to 
 express his hope that the citizens of the States might be 
 always wise enough to know when they were happy. -H<? 
 knew that not letting well alone, had made, of him who over- 
 threw an incapable French republic, the captive of coalesced 
 Emperors and Kings. 
 
 In a smaller residence, erected by him, Joseph continued 
 to maintain a dignified hospitality, extended alike to old 
 comrades, new friends, and properly introduced strangers. 
 It was at this period of his exile that an ofter was made to 
 him of the Mexican crown. " I have already worn two 
 crowns," is said to have been the reply of the ex-monarch, 
 " and experienced but small satisfaction under either. If you 
 would be happy and free, found republican institutions, and 
 so lay the foundations that they shall be unassailable." This 
 may be apocryphal. There is more certainty in the incident 
 of his connection with Lafayette. The latter, in 182-1, on
 
 A FAMILY OF KIXGS. 277 
 
 his visit to America, foretold to Joseph the fall of tlie Boiir- 
 bous, and offered to accept a commission for restoring the 
 Empire, — for a " consideration." Joseph declined, for the 
 good reason that if the Bourbon throne were again cast 
 down, the son of the Emperor — if his friends were active 
 and the French people willing — would naturally succeed to 
 the Imperial throne, to which he had, in truth, been raised 
 by his father. The crash came in 1830, and Joseph wrote 
 to Lafayette to inquire why he had overlooked the Empire 
 and its heir. The old man excused himself on the ground 
 that France would enjoy the greatest possible amount of 
 happiness under a King " cribbed, cabined, and confined" 
 by republican institutions. The answer should have almost 
 satisfied a philosophical ex-monarch, who, after experiencing 
 royalty as a sovereign, and trying republicanism in France, 
 as a member, and, in America, as a guest, of the Common- 
 wealth, had solemnly declared that human felicity had no 
 home save beneath a republic. 
 
 When the founder of the French Empire died, Joseph 
 asked permission of the Austrian Government to communi- 
 cate to the ex-King of Rome the fact of his sire's decease. 
 Joseph was the head of his family, and there was nothing 
 inappropriate in the request. It was however peremptorily 
 refused. In 1832, the young ex-King, worn out in the very 
 first year of his manhood, also died, and thereupon Joseph 
 and another unsceptred monarch, Jerome, with Prince 
 Lucien, and Louis Napoleon met together in England, to 
 consider their prospects and guard their interests. Joseph 
 led an unostentatious life in England, where he is said to 
 have held his impetuous nephew in check, and to have so 
 disapproved of the attempt at Strasburg, as to have returned 
 to America, — angry at the report made here, that the at- 
 tempt (since condemned by him who made it) was the re- 
 sult of Joseph's contrivance, and had his entire sanction. 
 "Within two years from that date, the ex-King of Spain was
 
 278 MONARCHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 again among us ; but he was no longer the man of the olden 
 time. Paralysis had smitten him, and he was attacked by 
 general and insurmountable decay. Baths could not build 
 up what had been shattered, nor restore what had been de- 
 stroyed. The sick old monarch wandered abroad in search 
 of what was for ever lost, and, of course, found it not. He 
 was accompanied by his Countess, who had never had the 
 courage to cross the Atlantic. They were together at 
 Florence, in 1844. Joseph had borne a life of something 
 more than three-quarters of a century in length ; and half a 
 century had elapsed since the young commissariat officer 
 had married the merchant's daughter at Marseilles. Through 
 what splendour and havoc they had walked during the first 
 twenty years of that time ! What tranquil happiness the 
 Corsican clerk may have lost, by changing his pen for a 
 sword, his stool for a throne ! He had held two sceptres, 
 refused two crowns, and he went down to the grave a poorer 
 man, probably, than if he had succeeded to the business of 
 his father-in-law in bustling jNIarseilles. 
 
 The next " King" in this extraordinary fomily was Louis 
 Bonaparte, who was born in 1778 ; he died in 1846. Of 
 the sixty-eight years which elapsed within these dates, four 
 only were passed upon a throne ; — namely, from 1806 to 
 1810. Holland was raised or changed from a republic to a 
 kingdom, and Louis submitted to receive a crown from the 
 hands of his brother, with as much reluctance as he received 
 from the same hands, a wife. Twenty-eight years took him 
 from a cradle to a crown. Thirty-six years led him from the 
 throne to the grave. The period of his royalty was the 
 most anxious of his life. It is one, however, the incidents of 
 which are remembered to his honour. His happiest time 
 was the long season of his retirement. It only lacked health ; 
 but, even wanting that, the Count de St. Leu was resigned 
 and content. 
 
 Louis was, in his tastes and sentiments, perhaps the most
 
 A TAMTLY OF KIKGS. 279 
 
 aristocratic of liis family. He was a firm anti-republican, 
 and was devoid of all ambition. He was a good and faitli- 
 ful, but not an enthusiastic soldier ; and he hated courts- 
 martial with all the vigour of a heart more ready to sym- 
 pathize with suffering than to resent offence. 
 
 He was a Sub-Lieutenant at fourteen, and distinguished 
 himself both in Italy and Egypt. His philosophical turn of 
 mind accompanied him to the field; and when he found him- 
 self among the dirty, ferocious, and strong-smelling Bedou- 
 ins, he expressed a wish that Jean-Jacques Eousseau could 
 have been compelled to dwell with the " man of nature" 
 whom he lauded so much and of whom he knew so little. 
 
 It was the longing wish of Josephine, and the desire of 
 Na2:)oleon, to see Louis united to Hortense, — Josephine's 
 daughter. The lady was beautiful, accomplished, and — nine- 
 teen. But Louis, though only twenty-three years of age, 
 was too reserved, too mild, and too little susceptible, to be 
 attracted by the brilliancy of Hortense. Thejlrst marriages, 
 at all events, of all the Bonapartes, were honest love-matches. 
 Louis struggled hard to escape an engagement which, he 
 was convinced, would fail to secure happiness for either of 
 the contracting parties. Those parties however were under 
 influences which they could not withstand ; and, without 
 affection on either side, Hortense and Louis were married 
 in the year 1802. 
 
 Never was a marriage more insisted on by one side, and 
 resisted by the other, than this. It was urged by Josephine 
 and Napoleon, as if the existence of the Empire depended 
 thereon. And it proved to be a marriage of the highest in- 
 terest to the Empire. Of the three sons born of it, the 
 survivor is he who suppressed the second Republic, honestly 
 confessed himself to be ajyarvenu, was elected Emperor, and 
 formed the Anglo-French alliance ! 
 
 Such an alliance had not been known in Erance since 
 Athelstan sent a fleet in aid of Louis d'Outre-Mer.
 
 280 MONAKCIIS EETIKED FROM BUSINESS, 
 
 When the crown of Holland M-as pressed upon Louis 
 Bonaparte, he resisted the offer, as warmly as he had with- 
 stood the project to unite him with Hortense. He was then 
 smitten by pai\alysis, and racked by rheumatism. He may 
 be said to have been carried to the new throne, rather than 
 to have ascended it. Nevertheless he acted with energy 
 and honesty. AVhen Joseph mounted the Spanish throne, 
 he told his new subjects that although he must remain a 
 Frenchman by patriotism, he would always be found a 
 Spaniard by religion. Louis was more satisfactorily explicit 
 in Holland. " Hencefortli," he said, " 1 am in all things a 
 true Dutchman." The assertion was not idly made. Louis 
 struggled to preserve the rights of his subjects, and their 
 commercial prosperity, against a policy destructive of both. 
 The struggle was ineffectual. He was only the Lieutenant 
 of his brother. Scorning to be that, while he wore the name 
 of King, Louis descended from the throne in 1810 ; and 
 Napoleon annexed Holland to the Empire of France. 
 
 The ex-King left Haarlem in strict privacy. For some 
 years after, there might be seen at various German " Baths" 
 an invalid of mild, yet not melancholy aspect, affable in his 
 manners, and of extreme simplicity in his way of life. This 
 was Louis, Count of St. Leu, whose consort resided in Paris, 
 with the courtesy title of " Queen." His residence was for 
 some time at Gratz, in Styria. He refused all pecuniary 
 aid offered him by Napoleon ; but he repaired to Paris to 
 welcome him, after the Emperor had landed in France from 
 Elba. 
 
 Subsequent to the second downfall of the Empire, the 
 Count de St. Leu obtained the Papal permission to reside in 
 Rome. Thirty-two years were spent by him almost entirely 
 in Italy ; and the routine of his life there niay be told in as 
 many lines. His days were devoted to pursuits which be- 
 came a country gentleman of cultivated intellect and declin- 
 ing health. His principal enjoyment was derived from lite-
 
 A FAMILY OF KINGS. 281 
 
 rature, in wliich the ex-Kiug himself took a respectable 
 position. He was visited by his sons, but took no part in 
 the aspiring views of any ; yet he evinced his paternal sym- 
 pathy, after the "affair of Boulogne" deprived one of those 
 sons of his liberty. 
 
 Louis died at Leghorn, in June of the year 1846. Tliree 
 months subsequently, his body was interred at St. Leu. The 
 liberality of the Government of Louis Philippe allowed of 
 the re-union of the exiled family around the grave of the 
 honest ex-King. AVithin two years the condition of the two 
 families was strangely reversed. 
 
 Louis XVIII. had made the wife of Louis, ex-Kiug of 
 HoUand, Duchess of St. Leu, for which honour, the ex-Queen 
 Horteuse thanked him in person. After the " Hundred 
 Days," the Duchess retired to Switzerland, where her son, 
 Louis Napoleon, became, for a time, an artillery officer of 
 the Swiss Confederation. Dumas recounts a long conver- 
 sation which he had with the Duchess in 1833, when the 
 novelist was the celebrated lady's guest, at her chateau in 
 S\vitzerland. A fragment of the discoure will not be out of 
 place in this chapter. 
 
 The Duchess had heard, with some surprise, the assertion 
 of Dumas, that Napoleon had accomplished a mission, and 
 that, his vocation ended, France had no longer any desire to 
 A\'itness an Imperial restoration. 
 
 " AVhat advice then," asked the Duchess, " would you 
 give to a member of that family, who should dream of the 
 resurrection of the gloiy and power of Napoleon ?" 
 
 " I should advise him to wake from his dream, as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 " And if he persisted, in spite of such advice, — which 
 seems to me very excellent counsel, — and asked you for a 
 second ?" 
 
 " Then, Madam, I would suggest to him to obtain the 
 revocation of the decree by which he was exiled ; to buy an
 
 282 MONAECHS RETIRED TEOM BrSI^ESS. 
 
 estate in France ; get himself elected Deputy ; try, by bis 
 talent, to dispose of the majority in Parliament ; make use 
 of it, to depose Louis Philippe, and get himself elected 
 King in the other's place." 
 
 " And you think," said the Duchess of St. Leu, with a 
 melancholy smile, " that any other plan would fail ?" 
 
 "I am convinced of it," boldly replied the writer of ro- 
 mances, who, being Dumas, and neither (Edipus nor a pro- 
 phet, was authorized, perhaps, in such expressions of his 
 conviction. He then tells us : — " At this instant, the bell 
 rang for breakfast ; we strolled, silently and thoughtfully, 
 towards the chateau. During the whole way, the Duchess 
 did not address to me a single word : but as we reached the 
 threshold of the door, she paused, and looked at me with an 
 exjjression I cannot define. 
 
 " I wish," said she, " that my son had been here, that he 
 might have heard what you have just said !" — — 
 
 As if the author of Monte Christo' could have prevented 
 the son of the ex-King of Holland from re-erecting a more 
 brilliant throne than that from which his father had de- 
 scended ! 
 
 Before proceeding to notice the career of the youngest of 
 Napoleon's crowned-and-uncrowned brothers, the following 
 brief details of the dynasty of Hesse, which Jerome, for a 
 time, supplanted, may fittingly find place. 
 
 The House of Hesse was founded by the Landgrave Philip, 
 one of the great supporters of Lvitheranism. The Lines both 
 of Cassel and Darmstadt may be traced back to that noble 
 founder. He commenced his reign in 1518, and ten masters 
 had held their little state, at Cassel, when William, the first 
 "Elector of Hesse," — who used to sell his soldiers to other 
 potentates, as men sell cattle, and who so luited Napoleon 
 that he declared he " was prouder to be a Prussian Field- 
 Marshal than a King of the Bonaparte manufactory," — paid 
 for his sympathy with Prussia, by being turned out of his
 
 A FAMILY or KINGS. 283 
 
 palace, as soon as the victory at Jena placed Germany at 
 the entire mercy of France. 
 
 At half-past eight o'clock, on the first of November, 1806, 
 the " Elector " left Cassel, with what treasures he could 
 collect, and, after some wandering to and fro, the ex-poten- 
 tate fixed his residence at Prague. Then was published the 
 " 27th Bulletin," in which it was said that " the House of 
 Hesse-Cassel had, for many years, been in the habit of sell- 
 ing its subjects to England, and had thereby got together 
 the wealth which it then possessed. This disgraceful avarice 
 has now caused the overthrow of the race." Then followed 
 the announcement of Napoleon, whom AYilliam was wont to 
 call the " Knight of Eortune," that the House of Hesse- 
 Cassel had ceased to reign. When the peace of Tilsit had 
 been signed, the Kingdom of Westphalia was established, and 
 Cassel was raised to the dignity of the capital of a monarchy. 
 
 The new King was Napoleon's youngest brother ;— the only 
 brother who has survived to witness the restoration of the 
 French Empire ! He was born in 1784. In his early days, he 
 sat on a stool in an American counting-house, and espoused 
 an accomphshed American lady. Miss Ehzabeth Patterson. 
 Napoleon gravely assured the Pope that the vicinity to him 
 of this lady's Protestantism would be an offence to the 
 moral principles of France ! Accordingly, while he forbade 
 her landing in that country, he besought the Holy Father to 
 annul the marriage ; \\hich was accordingly done — though 
 not without great difficulty. The ill-used lady returned to 
 her Transatlantic home, after giving birth to a son, at Cam- 
 berwell, near London. 
 
 Jerome served at sea, — and some persons have discussed 
 the probabilities of European history generally, and English 
 history in particular, if the youngest brother of Napoleon 
 had exhibited the abilities of a Nelson or a Blake. Jerome 
 was a respectable naval officer, and no more. He changed 
 his profession, and gained a fair share of reputation by his 
 martial achievements. He had by no means forgotten his first
 
 284 MONARcns eetired from business. 
 
 love, — his wife, indeed, — when Ins elder brother requested 
 him to marry the Princess Caroline of Wiirtemberg. Je- 
 rome resisted ; but resistance was not of much avail against 
 the peculiar persuasiveness of Napoleon. Jerome yielded, 
 after a show of " decent horror," and the day he espoused 
 the Princess, he was " gazetted," King of Westphalia. The 
 double event took place on the 22nd of August, 1807. 
 
 The new kingdom, — which was composed of conquests from 
 Prussia, Hesse- Cassel, Hanover, and the smaller States to 
 the west of the Elbe, — lasted not quite seven years ; and 
 its historians paint its monarch diversely, according to their 
 bias. If we believe some, he was as wise as Solomon. If 
 we may credit others, he was a thousand times more de- 
 bauched than Sardanapalus. By one writer we are told that 
 his sceptre was a lever by which he raised his kingdom to 
 the very summit of felicity ; by another, that it was used as 
 a weapon, to knock down liberty and assault virtue. Jerome 
 was only twenty-three years of age when he took upon him- 
 self the responsibility of governing ; and some allowances 
 may be made for a young man who was, but the other day, 
 a mere clerk with uncertain prospects, and who suddenly 
 saw himself seated on a throne, and surrounded by tempta- 
 tions. Nevertheless, some of the stories told of him may be 
 safely disbelieved. No one now credits the report that on 
 the very day of his arrival in Cassel, he was seen in the gar- 
 dens of his palace, half— or, as some circumstantially give it, 
 altogether — imdressed, playing leap-frog with his courtiers, 
 who wore the same suit as the King ! 
 
 That the royal residence was not conventual in the ob- 
 servances most in fashion there, and that 
 
 " Les folles en riant entrainerent les sages " 
 is undoubtedly true. There was, perhaps, overmuch of ajolly 
 androllicking nature, little of reading, acontinual singing,and 
 an excess of sleeping by day and watching or drinking by night. 
 Slander said the young monarch was so enfeebled by his vi-
 
 A FAMILY or KINGS. 285 
 
 by broth baths, — for which purpose a calf was sacrificed 
 daily ! Erom the same source we have the story, that Jerome 
 bathed iu red wine, and that his subjects declined to purchase 
 wine of that hue, for the reason that the wine which had 
 served for the royal bath, was afterwards bottled and sold ! 
 — And this reminds me that wine-baths have been indulged 
 in by more than one unsceptred sovereign. Mary, Queen of 
 Scots, may be cited as an instance. Strype, speaking of the 
 period when she was under the ward of Lord Shrewsbury, 
 at Tutbury, a.d. 1569, says : " In this castle, this noble Earl 
 had Mary, Queen of Scots, in custody ; which, whatsoever 
 public allowance he had, was extraordinary expensive to him. 
 And, among other things provided, the wine only amounted 
 to a considerable charge ; for when she bathed, she bathed 
 iu wine." Jerome therefore had royal warrant for the fa- 
 shion he followed, if indeed he really followed it. In com- 
 paring Jerome with his predecessor, it must be allowed that 
 the former placed the administration of justice on a purer 
 basis than had ever been witnessed under the Landgraves 
 or the Elector, — though this indeed was accompanied by 
 open despotic actions and private espionnage. Eurther, 
 the new sovereign released his kingdom from all financial 
 difficulties ; and he not only despatched enormous sums to 
 his brother, as contributions for the w^ar, but he gathered 
 together such a fortune for himself, as probably the rest of 
 his family could not equal. The great boast of his admirers 
 was founded iu his liberality towards the Jew^s. They had 
 exhibited alacrity iu providing him with a loan ; and he re- 
 paid it, by grantiug them perfect emancipation. So unre- 
 sei'ved was this act, that at one time the management of 
 every department in the kingdom, including the army, — but 
 excepting the church, — was in the hands of Jews. If sober 
 people were shocked by Jerome's jollity, the ultra-religious 
 world was grievously afflicted by this emancipation of the 
 Hebrews ! 
 
 It is certain that Jerome himself went as near as possible
 
 28G MONAliCHS BETIKED THOM BUSINESS. 
 
 to a protest against the Imperial system, which drained the 
 kingdom of Westphalia of both money and men. Jerome, 
 liowever, took the field to aid his brother, and received a 
 check at Smolensko, which called down upon him remarks, 
 more vivacious than pleasant, from Napoleon. Then came 
 Leipzig and the Jinale. In 1814 Jerome and his consort fled 
 to Switzerland, and were robbed on their way. He repaired 
 from Trieste to Paris, at the commencement of the Hundred 
 Days, and he opened the fierce struggle at Waterloo, man- 
 fully but unsuccessfully. After that catastrophe, he was, 
 for some time, a wanderer, seeking safety in various dis- 
 guises, and ultimately taking up his residence, by permission, 
 at Wiirtemberg. He there assumed the title of Count de 
 Monfort. Family troubles drove him from a Court where a 
 fallen relative was not a welcome guest. Austria afforded 
 liim a more agreeable place of residence ; and his years were 
 divided between simple pleasures, visits to various members 
 of his family, sojourns now at Vienna, now at Trieste, occa- 
 sionally at Florence, and now and then at Eome. 
 
 The Imperial restoration called Jerome to Paris ; Avhere 
 the ex-King of Westphalia keeps a state of some, but not 
 excessive splendour, and where he enjoys the present, with- 
 out desiring, as far as hia kingshi]) is concerned, a return of 
 the past. 
 
 AV^hen the ex-Elector, William, returned to Cassel, in 1814, 
 from the Congress at Vienna, not " King of the Catti," as he 
 hoped for, yet v/ith the title of "Iloyal Highness," he was so 
 resolved that nothing should be changed, that he himself 
 announced the period of his dethronement, as his " seven 
 years' sleep." The old man so ardently loved old fashions, 
 as well as old principles of old governments, that, on the day 
 after his restoration, observing an ancient gentleman in the 
 streets with api(/-lail, his Eoyal Highness seized his Adjutant 
 by the arm, and pointing to the old-fashioned appendage, 
 exclaimed, " Now, God be praised, there is one left, yet !" 
 
 All the anxiety of this Prince, during the period of his
 
 A FAMILY OF KIKGS. 2S7 
 
 deposition, was coimected with pig-tails. When he re- 
 entered his dominions, — a small portion only of the ex-king- 
 dom of AVestphalia, — preceded by mounted and half-tipsy 
 peasants, blue-nosed and shivering little girls, and school 
 children singing the praises of a prince a thousand times 
 more licentious than Jerome, his only thought was con- 
 nected with pig-tails. He stood erect in his carriage, and 
 wore a peruke with the sacred appendage. The goitrous 
 excrescence from his neck, which obliged him to hold his head 
 continually on one side, gave him a most absurd appearance, — 
 but then it rendered more conspicuous the ever-adorable tail ! 
 
 He clapped tails to the heads of his entire army, and forced 
 every man to wear powder. In fact, he dressed them after 
 the quaint fashion of the time of the Seven Tears' Yv'^ar. 
 As the hair of men was often found to be too short to allow 
 of a false tail being fastened to it, he issued an order that in 
 such case the tail should be affixed to the collar of the coat ; 
 but he forbade its being suspended from the hat. The cause 
 of this prohibition arose from his having seen an officer, 
 tailed according to regulation, who, hastening to meet him, 
 snatched up the hat of a fellow-officer, — to which the tail 
 was attached, — and who appeared in his presence with two 
 tails Instead of one ! 
 
 In order to encourage the growth of natural tails, he gave 
 rewards for tlie finest, whether " club" or " pig," and he dis- 
 tributed recompenses to all successful inventors of oil and 
 pomatum for the growth of the hair. One English traveller, 
 to ridicule the Electoral fashion, was accustomed to walk in 
 front of the palace with a false tail, as thick as his leg, hang- 
 ing down his back. This particular predilection of his Eoyal 
 Highness procured for him the title of "the pig-tail Elector." 
 Jerome is said to have conferred this title on his successor, 
 and it was rightly applied. As Victor Hugo remarks : — 
 
 " J'appelle iin coclion par son nom ; pourquoi pas ? " 
 The little-linger of this wretched potentate lay heavier on
 
 288 MONAKCHS KETIRED TEOM BUSINESS, 
 
 liis subjects than Jerome's loins had done. His order that 
 every person who possessed no title explanatory of his office, 
 — that all who were not " officials," in fact, — should be ad- 
 dressed by their baptismal and family names only, without 
 the "J3err," was simply absurd. Had he robbed his sub- 
 jects of nothing else but the privilege of being called 
 '• Sir," he would not have been obnoxious to much reproach. 
 Jerome was well able to remark, in his exile, that nothing 
 which report had said of him, equalled the amount of ascer- 
 tained meanness, tyranny, and iniquity, of which this " Elec- 
 tor, by the grace of God," was guilty. The Electorate would 
 have been the uneleanest hell upon earth, but for Caroline 
 von Sehlotheim, Countess of Hessenstein. This lady was 
 one of his "favourites " whom he had carried off by force 
 from her home, but who, cursing him and the evil dignity 
 he offered her, contrived to escape to her father's house, 
 whence she was forcibly carried back to tlie Elector, by her 
 own parents ! Such is German devotion for what seems 
 irresistible majesty ! The pig-tail Elector left one son and 
 two daughters legitimately born. Of the twenty-four chil- 
 dren whose mothers were the "favourites" at Cassel, only 
 one was ever heard of in this country, and he was that Gene- 
 ral Haynau who, accused of flogging women in Hungary, was 
 scourged for the same by a Vigilance Committee of Barclay 
 and Perkins's draymen. When the ex- King Jerome heard 
 of this incident, his only comment was, that — the sins of the- 
 fathers are visited on the children ! 
 
 The third brother of this family of monarchs was the first 
 Kintr of Holland. The next Prince wlio wore that crown 
 also voluntarily surrendered it. The introduction therefore 
 of the subject of Holland, in the following Chapter, will, it is 
 hoped, not seem out of place, the less so, perhaps, that it 
 will be very briefly treated.
 
 289 
 
 {rlliiit^. 
 
 ■WILLIAM FREDERICK; OR, ALL FOR LOVE. 
 
 " Les Kois ne peuvent etre longtemps amourcux sans faire beaucoup 
 de sottises." — De Patilmy. 
 
 Whex Louis Bonaparte was created King of Holland, 
 gratia fratris, in 1806, nearly a thousand years had elapsed 
 since Thierry founded a sovereignty in the same locality, 
 and placed himself at the head of it as ' Count of Holland.' 
 He reigned over a mixed population, made up of the descen- 
 dants of the Batavi (a people expelled from Germany, be- 
 cause of tlieir insurrectionary spirit), and of the Romans, 
 who had subsequently established themselves in the coun- 
 try. Holland (or the JSTetherlands) was governed by its OAvn 
 Counts, till it devolved to the Counts of Hainault in tlie last 
 year of the thirteenth century. In 1436 it was attached to 
 the dukedom of Burgundy, and about a century later it was 
 absorbed, as part of Burgundy, into the German Empire. 
 The Emperor Charles V. annexed the Netherlands to Spain, 
 but the tyranny and religious intolerance of the Spanish 
 government drove the people to rebellion. The revolted 
 States elected \\ iUiam of Orange as Stadtholder, in 1579 ; 
 and Spain declai-ed the northern provinces free in 1609 ; 
 but the office of Stadtholder was not made hereditary in the 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 290 MOISTARCIIS KETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 Orange family till 1747. Forty years later, the impulse 
 given by the French Eevolution was felt in Holland ; and 
 when the French Republicans entered the country in 1793, 
 the people declared iii their favour. Two years later the 
 Stadtholder was expelled. From 1795 to 1813, it passed 
 through various phases of government. The Batavian Ee- 
 public received a new constitution in 1805, when the chief 
 officer took the title of Grand Pensionary. It was in the 
 follo\dng year that Holland was erected into a kingdom, and 
 that its crown was bestowed on the reluctant and honest 
 Louis Bonaparte. 
 
 After the abdication of Louis, the kingdom of Holland, as 
 before observed, became a portion of the French Empire ; 
 but after the downfall of that Empire, "William Frederick, 
 late Prince of Orange, was raised to the dignity of King of 
 Holland, or the Netherlands ; the southern provinces, now 
 forming the Kingdom of Belgium (which had passed from 
 the dominion of Spain to that of Austria, and subsequently 
 of France) constituting a pai-t of his dominions. 
 
 It is of this monarch we have now to speak. Like the 
 first King of Sardinia, he abdicated under rather romantic 
 influences ; but, unlike Victor Amadeus, he neither repented 
 the act, nor was urged to rescind it by the lady .who shared 
 with him his crownless time. 
 
 William Frederick of Orange was born in 1772. In his 
 early life he was remarkable for his application to study, and 
 his love of foreign travel. At the age of eighteen years his 
 appointment as commandant of the garrison of Breda asto- 
 nished rather than gratified the veteran officers, who had a 
 better claim to the distinction, and higher qualifications for 
 duly discharging it. In his twentieth year, he married a 
 Princess of Prussia. He had not completed his twenty-se- 
 cond year when he was placed at the head of the army of 
 Holland against the French Eepublicaus. His conduct in 
 that responsible post acquired for liim the approval of all
 
 WILLIAM FREDERICK ; OR, ALL FOR LOVE. 291 
 
 practically experienced generals and the respect of his ene- 
 mies. Success was not possible under the circumstances. 
 He shared in the honours and mischances of the fatal day 
 for Prussia, at Jena, and in those of the well-fought field 
 of Wagram. After these events he proceeded to Berlin, 
 and finally joined his family in England in 1813. 
 
 In 1815, he was proclaimed King of Holland, and he made 
 his public entry into Brussels, in that character, on the 5th 
 of April. He passed, not undisturbed, but comparatively 
 safely, through the perilous passage of 1815. The honour 
 of his house was upheld by his son, the Prince of Orange, 
 who was wounded at Waterloo. 
 
 "William Frederick resided alternately at Brussels and the 
 Hague. His life was one of great simplicity in its charac- 
 ter. Few kings were more economical, more business-like, 
 more fond of wealth, more successful in attaining it, than the 
 King of the Netherlands. He would have made the admi- 
 rable head of a vast commercial establishment. His most 
 flagrant fault was in vainly yet obstinately attempting to 
 make the Dutch language the national language in the 
 provinces where Plemish or French was most commonly 
 spoken. 
 
 This attempt was the basis of his unpopularity, and it 
 helped to deprive him of his Belgic provinces at the period 
 of 1830, when the three days of July, in France, were fol- 
 lowed by their triad of similarly eventful days in Belgium. 
 
 The provinces of Belgium were raised to an independent 
 kingdom, and William Frederick remained King of Hol- 
 land only. 
 
 Here, too, his popularity became speedily shaken. Among 
 the ladies-of-houour to the Queen, Avas a Eomau Catholic 
 lady, of a Belgian family, named the Countess d'Oultremont. 
 Setting aside the many reports which connected the name 
 of the Countess with that of the monarch, there is at least 
 no doubt that the royal admiration w as of the most ardent 
 
 o 2
 
 292 MOKARCHS EETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 quality, and that the homage was received with a complacent 
 alacrity. 
 
 From the period of the decease of the Queen, the public 
 tongue began to wag rather boldly, but not without good 
 reason; — "Die verliebteu verschweigeu niehts." The re- 
 port that the King contemplated a marriage -with a lady 
 who was at once a Belgian, a Papist, and if of an ancient, 
 also of a very poor family, roused murmurs of general dis- 
 content. People had no regard for the fact that the attach- 
 ment was sincere. They rather ridiculed the sincerity of a 
 lover of eight-and-sixty. The King nevertheless maintained 
 his resolution ; but he soon perceived that if he married the 
 Countess, he must first lay down the sceptre. He did not 
 long hesitate ; nay, he did not hesitate at all. His inter- 
 views with his family, and his knowledge of the popular 
 feeling, convinced him of the utter hopelessness of his desire 
 to bestow a crown matrimonial on the Belgian lady. He 
 immediately discovered that he was too old to reign, but not 
 to re-marry. He preferred resigning his crown to giving up 
 the Countess. 
 
 The circles of society throughout Belgium and Holland 
 were busy during the autumn of 1840 with speculations on 
 the chivalry of this matter-of-fact monarch, who was about 
 to descend from the throne, and " all for love !" The specu- 
 lation ceased when the Proclamation of the 7th of October 
 declared that he had accomplished that fact, but was silent 
 as to the real causes. That document was grave and poli- 
 tical. The paragraph which concerned the King most per- 
 sonally was the following : — 
 
 "After the most serious reflection, we have considered 
 this the most fitting period for carrying into execution our 
 long-contemplated purpose of passing the remaining days 
 which God may please to grant us, in repose and freedom 
 from the cares of government, under a gi-ateful recollection 
 of all the benefits that His kindness and wisdom have con- 
 ferred upon us."
 
 WILLIAM rEEDERICK; ; OR, ALL TOR LOVE. 293 
 
 Before this had been signed, various attempts were made 
 to induce the monarch to depart from his resolution to ab- 
 dicate. There was one official more urgent than any other. 
 The Netherlands Minister of Justice entreated the King to 
 reconsider his decision. " I beseech you, Sire," said the 
 minister, " to retain the sceptre. Remember that you are 
 the first magistrate of the kingdom." " If it be so," replied 
 the King, " I claim the immunities of the post, and solicit 
 permission to retreat. After five-and-twenty years' service, 
 I think I may be said to have earned it." 
 
 William Frederick took the permission which he good- 
 humouredly affected to solicit, and he soon after privately 
 married the Countess. The latter, from the day of the ab- 
 dication, had fixed her residence at Liege, whither were re- 
 moved all the furniture and valuable movables she had 
 possessed in Holland. The correspondence between her and 
 the King was uninterruptedly maintained till the period of 
 their meeting and their union. 
 
 For some time the wedded pair spent their days in plea- 
 sant privacy on their estates in Germany. There was no 
 incident of that period worth relating, nor did the period 
 itself last long. In December, 1843, they were at Berlin. 
 At an early hour in the morning, the Count and Countess of 
 Nassau, as they were called, breakfasted together, and the 
 Countess remained in the room in which the ex-King was 
 engaged in writing. She had left it for a few minutes only, 
 in search of a book, when his bell rang violently ; an Aide- 
 de-camp rushed into the apartment, where he found the old 
 monarch lyin^ senseless in his arm-chair, stricken by apo- 
 plexy. A letter was grasped in his hand. All means taken 
 for his recovery were fruitless ; the first of the Orange 
 Kings of Holland — and he uncrowned — was dead. 
 
 There was never a crownless King who died in possession 
 of such wealth as William Frederick. One hundred and 
 fifty-seven millions of florins (thirteen millions sterling)
 
 294 MONAECHS EETIRED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 formed a pretty capital wliereon a monarch might retire 
 from the business of government. About the half of this 
 sum he bequeathed to his son, who succeeded him on the 
 throne. To his other children, Prince Frederick and the 
 Princess Marianne, he left legacies, large enough in amount 
 to prove that his paternal love had been in no wise dimin- 
 ished by other attachments ; and a dowry of " twelve mil- 
 lions" — but it is not said whether of francs or florins (the 
 latter being twice the value of the former) — enabled the 
 captivating Countess to wear her widowhood with a digni- 
 fied luxury of woe. 
 
 KINGS OF HOLLAND. 
 
 1806. Louis BoNAPAETE : abdicated 1810. 
 1815. William Feedeeick of Orange, abdicated. 
 1840. William II. 
 1849. William III.
 
 295 
 
 ^\^t ^rrmaii (fcmpire. 
 
 CHARLES THE FAT -HENRY IV. 
 
 " Mein Haar ist evgraut, uiein Auge getiiibt, 
 Die Siegeswaffen liangen im Saal, 
 Habe Recbt gesprocben und Kecbt geiibt, 
 Wann darf icb rasten einmal ? 
 O seUge East ! wie verlang' icb d' in ! 
 O berrlicbe Nacbt, wie saum'st du so lang, 
 Da icb scbaue die Sterne Kcbteren Scbein 
 Und bore volleren Klang." 
 
 Uhland : Der Konig auf dem Thurme. 
 
 Amid the ruins of the Homan Empire in the West, the city 
 of Eome itself still maintained (in some degree) its liberty 
 and privileges. The Franks had seized on Gaul, the Gotbs 
 and Vandals had established themselves iu Spain, the Saxons 
 had fixed their abiding-place hi Britain, and, followers of 
 other tribes, the bearded Lombards had spread over the 
 fairest parts of Italy, — founding or destroying cities, and 
 sorely oppressing tbe people. Amid this general wreck, the 
 Eternal City still stood unscathed ; but at length its very 
 existence was' threatened by Desiderius, the last of the Lom- 
 bard Kings, who, fancying that the ancient metropolis was 
 moribund, made a menacing demonstration, to strike a mortal 
 blow, and lay his plundering baud upon its countless trea^ 
 sures.
 
 296 MONAEcns ketired from business. 
 
 The Pope, Adrian I., appealed to Charlemagne for succour, 
 and the dignity of E-oman Patrician was conferred on him 
 to whose championship appeal was thus made. But Pope 
 Leo III. allured or rewarded the champion by a higher re- 
 compense ; and on Christmas night of the year 800, all the 
 people of Rome consenting, the hero " Karl" was proclaimed 
 Roman Emperor of the West. It was thus that the Im- 
 perial dignity was obtained or earned by the Franks, with 
 whom it remained from 800 to 912, from the magnificent 
 Charlemagne to the broken-hearted Louis IV., under a suc- 
 cession of ten Emperors, when it passed to a German line. 
 The Italians would fain have had their Emperor reside among 
 them ; but when in the tenth century they stood in urgent 
 need of the upholding hand of Otho the Great, it was then 
 definitively settled that the seat of empire should be no 
 longer at Rome, but in some imperial city north of the Alps. 
 
 After the death, in 919, of Conrad I., the eleventh Em- 
 peror from Charlemagne, the imperial title was worn by five 
 sovereigns of the House of Saxony, from Henry the Bird- 
 catcher to Heniy II., who died in 1024. 
 
 Eive other ' Kaisers,' of the Salique or Franconian Line, 
 succeeded, commencing with the second Conrad, and ending 
 with Lothaire (who was however a Saxon) in 1137. The 
 Foiu'th Imperial House, that of the Suabian Emperors, num- 
 bered also five monarchs, from Conrad III. to Frederick II., 
 in 1250. But this period includes rival Emperors. The 
 most celebrated was Otho IV., who was recognized as 
 " King of Germany," only to be ultimately excommuni- 
 cated and deposed. 
 
 After the long and turbulent reign of Frederick, there 
 ensued the era of what has been called the Interregnum, when 
 again rival Emperors ruined rather than ruled. This era was 
 closed in 1272, with the death of Ottocar ; and then arose, 
 from comparative obscurity, that Rudolph of Hapsburg, 
 who,— being a meek and pious man, exhibiting no ordinary
 
 CHAELES THE EAT. 
 
 297 
 
 intellectual powers, having a well-earned reputation for 
 bravery, and possessing a heart which could feel for the 
 people, and was not greatly moved by the prospect of a 
 throne, — appeared to be more suited for the dignity than 
 the many powerful rivals who still aspired thereto, and whose 
 dissensions menaced the existence of the Empire. 
 
 Budolphwas elected in 1273 ; but the Imperial crown was 
 not made over as an inheritance, under the formality of 
 election, to the House of Austria, of which Eudolph was 
 the head. Three times five Emperors of different houses, — 
 reckoning therefore as many as the Imperial Lines of Saxony, 
 Franconia, and Suabia together, — reigned, from the accession 
 of lludolph to the death of Sigismund in 1437. " Keigned" 
 is perhaps hardly a suitable word, for among the fifteen, 
 stands in German annals the name of Edward III. of Eng- 
 land, who was named for, but who never possessed, the dig- 
 nity. 
 
 Since the death of Sigismund, the Imperial sceptre has al- 
 most uninterruptedly remained with the House of Austria. 
 This undisturbed succession commenced with Albert II. in 
 1439 ; a2id his descendant, Francis Joseph, the twenty-first 
 of the Line since the accession of Albert, now holds, at 
 Vienna, not indeed the Imperial sceptre of Germany, but 
 that of Austria, which he shares with the Pope, at whose 
 feet he has flung his indignant people. 
 
 Leaving out of account one or two names which have 
 small pretensions to reckon among the Emperors, the crown 
 of the "Holy," as distinguished from the e/f/er " Roman 
 Empire," has been worn by threescore-and-four sovereigns, 
 from the year 8lO to 1856, — a period of a little more than 
 ten centuries and a half, which, saving a few years, is the 
 period during which England has been a monarchy. 
 
 In looking through the annals of the German Empire, we 
 soon encounter a deposed monarch. We sooner still meet 
 with one who wished to be deposed, but who, despite aU the 
 
 o 3
 
 298 MONAKCHS EETIRED PEOM BIJSINESS. 
 
 efforts of his nearest kin to fling liim from tlie throne of 
 which he was weary, could not succeed. This was the 
 second monarch of the first race, Louis the Pious. He was 
 so meek and weak, that it suited the Papal interests that he 
 should occupy the throne, where he remained wondering 
 and inert, weeping, and condemned to bear his phantom 
 dignity. 
 
 Charles the Pat — who has already been noticed among 
 the deposed Kings of Prance — on the other hand, not only 
 valued the perilous dignity, but when he was compelled to 
 surrender it, by a Diet of his people assembled at Triiber, on 
 the plain of the Khine, near Oppenheim, the baffled traitor 
 and inhuman tyrant took the disgrace so to heart that he 
 died within two months. Of the two monarchs here named, 
 the first was unfortunate ; the second, iniquitous. The field 
 near Thann, in Alsatia, where the sons of Louis took their 
 father prisoner, when they would fain have shorn his hair 
 and made a monk of him, is to this day called The Field of 
 Liars. The obese Charles used to excuse himself for the 
 atrocities into which he plimged, by asserting that he was 
 possessed by a devil; — which was undoubtedly true. In his 
 ease is again to be observed the right held and exercised by 
 the people to dethrone a monarch who oppressed his sub- 
 jects. The Germans who assembled at Triiber, in 887, made 
 summary work of it. They passed but one resolution, and 
 that was exceedingly brief, yet remarkably intelligible : — 
 " Karl der Dicke ist nicht werth unsere Krone zu trageu" 
 — Charles the Pat is not worthy to wear our crown ! They 
 did not acknowledge it to be his, but their own, held by 
 him in trust ; and having betrayed that trust, he was at once 
 ejected from an office of which he was declared to be un- 
 worthy. In Germany however this spirit went out as pipes 
 came in, and the Teuton land became tlie "Japan of Eu- 
 rope, — slow but very sure;" and therefore, as Dr. Mackay 
 sings —
 
 heinrt IV. 299 
 
 *' Who'd rather be oppressed than fight, 
 
 Low, low, low let hun lie ! 
 Let him feed among the sheep 
 Where the meadow-waters creep ; 
 
 Growing fat till the danger's nigh. 
 Not for him, or such as he, 
 To hold council with the free ; 
 Let liim browse while the wolf is in its den, 
 
 And thank his happy fate, 
 
 When the foe is at the gate. 
 That he lives m the sight of men!" 
 
 They who deposed Charles the Fat declared that the deed 
 thus accomplished would bring good fortune to the place ; 
 and the prophecy w^as in some respects fulfilled when Gus- 
 tavus Adolphus was ferried across the Ehine, near this spot 
 (bringing freedom with him), on a common barn-door. 
 
 In the ensuing struggles between crown and people, 
 Kaisers and Popes, although sad or terrible was the fate of 
 many a sovereign, we do not meet with a deposed monarch 
 till the period of Henry lY., whose tenure of troubled great- 
 ness lasted from 1056 to 1079. He was the third monarch 
 of the Franconian Line. The preceding, or ISaxon race, 
 affords us no instance of a sovereign member of it dying 
 stripped of his sovereignty. 
 
 The years above-named include a period the most eventful 
 for both the Empire and the Popedom. The father of Henry 
 (Henry III.) had been so absolute a monarch, that when 
 three rival Popes reigned and anathematized in Italy, he 
 entered the country, put down the three Pontiffs, and named 
 one of his own selection, — Clement II. The third Henry 
 died, leaving his son a minor, and his wife, Agnes, Eegent. 
 From her hands the boy-king was stolen by the Archbishop 
 of Cologne. The Prelate obtained the enactment of a law 
 that, wherever the young King resided, the administration of 
 the supreme government shoidd be in the hands of the 
 bishop and clergy of the district ! Henry was alternately
 
 300 MONARCHS EEIIKED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 passed from Hauuo, of Cologne, to Arclibishop Adalbert, of 
 Bremen. In the former he found a hard task-master ; the 
 latter was a licentious profligate, who presided at magnificent 
 banquets, at which Hebes of no great purity served costly 
 wines in sacred vessels. From such pupillage, Henry issued 
 to marry, ill-treat, but subsequently to know and to value, 
 the incomparable Bertha, daughter of the Margrave of Susa. 
 His independent career was one of continual violence. He 
 had daily to defend his position against Church, nobles, or 
 burghers ; and his allies of one day were his foes of the 
 morrow. 
 
 His most implacable foe was Hildebrand, — that Gregory 
 VII., who not only reformed many of the abuses in the Church 
 as energetically as any of the Emperors had done before 
 him, but effected the greatest reformation in rescuing the 
 Church itself, and the Popes especially, from all interference 
 on the part of the Emperors. Henry deposed Gregory, and 
 Gregory, in return, deposed Henry ; but the latter had, for 
 a time, the worst of it, and, finding his deposition a reality, 
 and that he was nearly utterly deserted, he resolved to seek 
 an interview with Gregory and obtain a reconciliation at his 
 hands. 
 
 But let us notice here, with regard to these dissensions 
 between the absolute Emperors and the supreme Pontiffs, 
 that Balbo, in his 'Life and Times of Dante,' puts very clearly 
 in contrast the respective sovereign claims of the Emperors 
 and Popes. " The Emperors," he says, " were in part elected 
 and crowned by the Popes, and the election of the Popes 
 was partly confirmed by the Emperors. Prom these two 
 facts, two different, or rather opposite, claims were derived ; 
 the Guelfs not only contending for the independence of the 
 Popes, but, more or less, for the Emperors' dependence on 
 the Popes ; and the violent Ghibellines contending not 
 only for the independence of the Emperors, but for the de- 
 pendence of the Popes on the Emperors. This last is proved
 
 HENET IV. 301 
 
 by the many Popes who were either deposed or threatened 
 with deposition." 
 
 The passages of the Alps were guarded, to prevent his pro- 
 gress, but Henry took a long route by Burgundy, Geneva, 
 and Mont Cenis. It was the mid-winter of 1076-7, and 
 the winter was the most rigorous that had been known for 
 years. The Emperor was disguised, and on foot. He was 
 accompanied by his faithful Bertha, who carried in her arms 
 an infant son, and these were attended by two or three true- 
 hearted followers. The horrors of this journey were never 
 forgotten by those who made it. They were storm-beaten 
 at every step, blinded by snow, buifeted by the winds, 
 bruised by falls, and every hour in peril of their lives by the 
 thundering descent of frightful avalanches. Some parts of 
 the Alpine road were so slippery that the way-worn travel- 
 lers were compelled to pass along on all-fours, and, where the 
 declivities were great, to slide down, as the only method for 
 reaching thebottom safely. At the worst part of the road, some 
 assistance was procured for Bertha : she and her infant, both 
 wrapped in ox-hides, were placed in a rude sledge, kept steady 
 by a few hired peasants ; but the route was so irregular, that 
 the horses were more than once taken from the sledge, bound 
 with ropes, and lowered over the edges of the precipices, by 
 the attendants. The deposed Emperor and his wife, carry- 
 ing the infant between them, descended the rough way, as 
 best they might, that best being of the most painful. 
 
 Across the plaius of Lombardy Henry was assisted by the 
 friendly people ; and at length he reached the gates of the 
 fortress of Canossa, in which Gregory had shut himself up. 
 The deposed monarch stood at the gates bareheaded, with 
 bare and miserably lacerated feet, and attired in the hair- 
 shirt of a penitent. As he made to enter the courtyard, he 
 was driven back by the rude soldiers, who bade him wait out- 
 side until the Holy Father condescended to admit him to his 
 presence. The ex-Emperor turned back, with a deep sigh,
 
 302 MONARCHS EETIRED JFROM BUSINESS. 
 
 sank down at the doorway, and there remained, three days 
 and three nights, without food, without drink, exposed to 
 the inclemency of the season, and the cutting sarcasm of the 
 Papal guard, by whom he was, at last, rather dragged than 
 led to Gregory, — when the latter expressed his will that the 
 fallen Potentate should draw near. 
 
 The negotiations were without the result desired on either 
 side. Humbled as Henry was, his spirit arose again in its 
 pride when he found that Gregory was not only resolved to 
 free the Church from the Imperial power, but also to place 
 the Empire at the very feet of the Pope. On his return to 
 Germany, he again appealed to arms, and not without suc- 
 cess, for the people were weary of those " Parson Kings " and 
 " Garlic Kings," phantom monarchs, set up by Gregory to 
 reign in Plenry's stead. In the struggle which followed, the 
 town of Merseburg fell into the hands of Henry. Rudolph, 
 the parson-king, had just died, and had been buried there, 
 beneath a splendid monument. It was pointed out to the 
 Emperor, with a suggestion that he would do weU to destroy 
 it. But he shook his head, sighed, smiled, and remarked, 
 with a sincerity that cannot be doubted, " It is as well as it is. 
 I only wish to God that all my enemies were as handsomely 
 entombed!" 
 
 Henry drove Gregory into exile ; and the great Pontifl" 
 died the guest of tlie Norman King of Sicily. The contest 
 between the Papal and the Imperial powers did not, however, 
 cease ; and when Henry was excommunicated by Pascal II., 
 his own son, of the same name, rose against him, assumed 
 the crown, and declared for the Pope. After some fierce 
 controversy, the heai't-brokeu father referred his cause to 
 the Diet at Mainz ; and his son, promising to abide by the 
 decision, met him at Coblentz, and, with great show of re- 
 spect, escorted him on the road towards the city where the 
 Diet held its sessions. On the way they entered the Castle 
 of Bockelheim, to spend the Christmas night ; and when the 
 portcullis fell, Henry found himself a prisoner.
 
 HENRY IV. 303 
 
 He was here visited by the Archbishops of Mainz and 
 Cologne, and the Bishop of Worms. The old monarch, 
 hoping to make some impression upon them, received them 
 seated on a sort of throne, and decked in the Imperial 
 mantle. The three ecclesiastics, beholding him thus attired, 
 flung themselves upon him, and, seizing the mantle, tore from 
 him, in such rude haste as nearly to strangle the fallen Po- 
 tentate, the symbol of Imperial power. He was then ordered 
 to surrender the crown jewels ; and he sent for them to Ham- 
 merstein, and surrendered them accordingly, in order to pur- 
 chase his life. His son again swore to protect him, and to 
 convey him to Mainz, according to the father's request. 
 Again, the younger Henry played the elder false, and instead 
 of taking his sire to Mainz, hurried him to Ingolheim, where 
 he kept him in strict confinement till the latter acknow- 
 ledged by his sign-manual that the crovm was indeed not 
 Ids, since it had been taken from him by the Pope. As the 
 Archbishop of Mainz saluted the younger Henry as " King 
 of Germany," he added, by way of comment to the salute, 
 "Take good heed of the Church, or it may happen to thee as 
 it has done to thy father." 
 
 So little heed was taken of the uncrowned Henry, that he 
 was enabled to eflect his escape. He fell, however, into such 
 abject poverty, that, on one occasion, he was compelled to 
 sell his boots in order to buy bread. He was willing even 
 to work ; and he applied to the Bishop of Spires, of whom he 
 had been the benefactor, to grant him a lay prebend in his 
 church. The ungrateful prelate treated the prayer of the 
 penniless and vagrant ex-monarch with scorn. " Nay," said 
 Henry, " I have studied, I know how to sing, I may be of 
 some help to you." The Bishop dismissed the applicant 
 with as little ceremony as if he had been a common beggar. 
 He would not even give, he said, ground for a grave to one 
 who was under the ban of the Church. 
 
 It is pleasant to be able to record that, in Bishop Otbert
 
 304 MONABCHS BETIKED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 of Liege, Henry found a more practical Christianity. That 
 Bishop gave him a home, although it was but a humble one. 
 While the fallen monarch sat meditating therein upon his 
 past trials, his amazing grandeur, and his terrible fall, some 
 friends of his endeavoured to retrieve fortune for him in 
 the field. The contest was not carried on for a lengthened 
 period. One evening, Henry V., in arms against those who 
 were his father's friends, was sitting in his tent, when there 
 appeared before him his father's faithful body-servant, the 
 valiant Erchenhold. "What now?" said the sou, as he 
 started to his feet, in full armour. Erchenhold said not a 
 word, till he had laid at the feet of the monarch the golden 
 head-band and the sword of his master ; — and then he said, 
 " This was all that your father, at last, possessed. God keep 
 his soul ! his heart Avas broken, and his dying request he 
 has sent you through me ; namely, to spare the friends who 
 were true to him in adversity, and to see his body placed in 
 the grave, by the side of those of his father and grandfather. 
 in the great church at Spires." 
 
 But the excommunication was not raised, and the body of 
 Henry IV., who died at Liege in 1106, was denied Christian 
 burial. For some time it remained on an island in the Maas, 
 near Liege, watched by a hermit. After some time had 
 elapsed, it was carried, by a few who loved a man whom ad- 
 versity had rendered wise and virtuous, to the Chapel of 
 8t. Afra, on the north side of the Cathedral of Spires. The 
 Bishop, nevertheless, steadily refused to open the Imperial 
 vault to a body yet cursed by Papal ban. Five years passed 
 away before the ban was taken off, and then the corpse was 
 carried, with some solemnity, into the tomb of the Emperors, 
 where it was deposited by the side of his best and truest 
 friend, his wife Bertha. 
 
 Eor above five centuries and a quarter it lay, with its once 
 illustrious fellows, in undisturbed repose. But in 1G89, 
 when the French were in the Palatinate, among the smaller
 
 HENRY IV. 305 
 
 outrages which they committed was the plundering of these 
 Imperial graves, and the scattering of the bones of those 
 who had so long and so quietly been there sleeping. Of the 
 fragments gathered after the Trench had passed, no one 
 could decide which belonged to one potentate, or which 
 formed part of another, and the relics of several Caesars were 
 consigned to a common grave. 
 
 The misfortunes of Henry were greater than his faults. 
 He had to contend against a too powerful priesthood, a di- 
 vided country, a superstition ever directed against his per- 
 son and projects, and, most terrible anguish of all, hostile 
 childi-en. It is questionable if he merit indeed such high 
 eulogy as has been awarded him by Sir James Stephen ; but 
 the eloquent praise of that brilliant essayist is only a little 
 below the deserts of the grandest and the most abject of the 
 German monarchs. 
 
 In the reign of Henry V. the respective positions of the 
 Pope and Emperor, their rights, privileges, and duties, were 
 clearly defined and agreed upon. On the death of Henry, 
 the electors chose Lothaire of Saxony for Emperor; and when 
 his short reign had come to an end, then commenced the 
 career of the Suabian Line — the great House of Hohens- 
 taufen. The English reader can nowhere more profitably or 
 pleasantly study the history of the eventful period, during 
 which Germany was governed by this race, than in Mrs. 
 Busk's recently published volumes. 
 
 Young Count Biiren, who built the castle of Hohenstau- 
 fen, was once standing by the tomb of Charlemagne, when 
 some one whispered, or something suggested, that the Impe- 
 rial crown would one day be in possession of his poor house. 
 It was well earned by the generous aid which the family 
 gave to Henry IV. The struggle for empire which followed 
 on the death of Lothaire, ended in the triumph of Com*ad of 
 Hohenstaufen. His friends assembled at Waiblingen, be- 
 tween Heidelberg and Stuttgart ; and as they were opposed
 
 306 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 to the Guelphs, who supported the candidate for empire who 
 favoured the Papal interest, the friends who met at A\"ai- 
 blingen were called Waiblingers — a name which the Italian 
 historians have converted into GhibeUines. These names 
 indicate an era and a struggle, into the details of which, 
 however, it is not necessary to enter. The era was that of 
 Guelph and Ghibelliue ; the struggle, however, was, as of 
 old, whether Pope or Caesar should have the supremacy. In 
 this struggle, none of the five Emperors died deposed, but 
 some of them were more than once under excommunication. 
 The Empress Beatrice, wife of Frederick Barbarossa, was 
 indeed once in the condition of a sceptreless sovereign lady, 
 having been captiu-ed in a sally made by the Milanese, when 
 Frederick was besieging the city. The Milaners treated 
 Beatrice with great lack of gallantry. They hoisted her on 
 a donkey, with her face to the tail, and in that absurd posi- 
 tion conducted her throvigh the streets in mock triumph. 
 Frederick made them pay dearly for the insult, when he got 
 possession of the town. He summoned the magistrates to 
 assemble in the market-place. In front of them stood a 
 donkey, beneath whose tail was a fig ; and this fig each ma- 
 gistrate in turn was compelled to draw out with his teeth, 
 and then replace it, for his next colleague to accomplish 
 the same feat. To this day, it is said, an allusion to figs is 
 accounted insulting by the Milanese. 
 
 The second Frederick kept all his crowns, — and he pos- 
 sessed seven of tliem, imperial, royal, and ducal, — in spite of 
 the excommunications from liome. Gregory IV. was never 
 weary of directing these weapons against the Emperor. 
 " "We devote his body to the devil," said the Pontiff", " in 
 order that we may save his soul !" 
 
 After the extinction of the Iloheustaufeu race, towards 
 the close of the thirteentli century, it is difficult to deter- 
 mine! who was, or who was not, rightful Emperor. How the 
 sceptre was valufed may be seen in the circumstance told of
 
 HENEY IV. 307 
 
 Eicliard of Cornwall, brother of our Henry III., namely, 
 that when he was a candidate, he bribed electors and arch- 
 bishops, with thousands of marks. AVherever he went, say 
 the chroniclers, thirty-two waggons followed him, drawn by 
 eight horses, and laden with a hogshead of gold. He was 
 not the only offender in this way ; and how the nobles were 
 demoralized is hinted at by the satirical Eeinmar of Zwieter, 
 who says, that — 
 
 " When the men of Venice heard 
 The crown was to be sold, 
 Thev sent right trusty messengers, 
 With bags well 611ed with gold. 
 Nay, had th' accursed Antichrist 
 
 His coifers opened wide. 
 Full many a Prince, and Counts enow, 
 Had voted on his side." 
 
 Little need be said of the interregnum Emperors, — that 
 is, before a " decent" order of succession was observed, by 
 the election of a man who was a stranger to all factions, 
 and objectionable to none. That man was Rudolph of Haps- 
 burg. Before the period of his accession,— the commence- 
 ment of the greatness of the House of Austria, — we some- 
 times meet with three Emperors and three Popes at the 
 same time. Some of these were unceremoniously set aside, 
 but it is not necessary to follow them into their uncrowned 
 privacy. Not that there are not startling incidents to be 
 met with. The ex-Emperor Wenceslaus, for instance, when 
 residing at Prague, where he reigned as King of Bohemia, 
 after his ejection from the Imperial throne, exhibited no 
 chastened spirit under his affliction. He once punished a 
 cook, who had sent up to him an ill- dressed capon, by roast- 
 ing him on a spit before his own fire. The story might be 
 held to be groundless, were it not that, of petty German 
 potentates, there are many similar stories told, which are 
 well authenticated. 
 
 A more amusing incident is recounted of Sigismund, —
 
 308 MONAECHS BETIBED FKOM BUSINESS. 
 
 who, it may be mentioned by the way, had, as Elector of 
 Brandenburg, elected himself to the Empire, on the ground 
 that he could judge of no other person so well, and that he 
 felt he was equalled by none in suitable qualifications. 
 Sigismund's arrogance and ignorance were further shown, 
 at the opening of the Council of Constance, when, in ad- 
 dressing the members, he used the words, " Date operam ut 
 ilia nefanda schisma eradicetur." " ScJns7>ia,'^ humbly whis- 
 pered a Cardinal, " is neuter." But this correction seemed 
 to Sigismund like displacing him from authority, and he 
 haughtily exclaimed, " Ego sum Eex Eomanus, et super 
 grammaticam" — I am a Eoman King, and above the rule.s 
 of grammar. 
 
 Sigismund, however, does not belong to our list of De- 
 posed Sovereigns, although his claim to be recognized as 
 Emperor was long disputed. The next example of a de- 
 throned monarch of the German Line brings before us the 
 holder of many crowns and the alleged willing yielder-up 
 of all.
 
 309 
 
 CHARLES V. 
 
 " Not always actions show the man ; we find 
 "WTio does a kindness is not, therefore, kind. 
 
 Nor therefore humble he who seeks retreat: 
 
 Pride guides his steps, and bids htm shun tlie great." 
 
 POI'E. 
 
 Charles Y. was the fourteenth in descent from Eudolph of 
 Hapsburg. He was the grandson of the great Maximilian, 
 His father was a German ; his mother, Joanna, was a Spanish 
 Princess. He was born in Flanders (in 1500), was educated 
 by a Dutchman, espoused a Portuguese lady, and, had he 
 chosen to accept the offer (made to him when a widower) of 
 the hand of Mary Tudor, he might have added England to 
 the many territories which his House had gained by mar- 
 riage treaties rather than by conquest. 
 
 Charles was a quick and intelligent boy. He acquired 
 the living languages with facility, but Adrian Florens failed 
 to make of him a tolerable Latin scholar. He led a disso- 
 lute life when young, but he early showed great capacity for 
 business. He was yet in his teens when he became King 
 of Spain ; (he had Ximenes for his regent ;) — and he was 
 scarcely out of them when he was crowned at Aix-la-Cha- 
 pelle. King of the Romans. 
 
 He enjoyed, or endured, royal and imperial greatness, 
 rather more than thirty-six years. The spectacle of his re- 
 signation of both was one that astonished the world, al- 
 though it did not come altogether unexpected. Early in
 
 310 MONAECHS EETIllED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 the married life of Charles he had agreed with his wife, 
 Isabella of Portugal, that when their children should be 
 grown to adult state and capacity, they themselves would 
 retire from the world, he to a convent, and she to a nunnery. 
 Charles had already learnt that disappointment and uncer- 
 tainty were connected with the most brilliant of positions. 
 Should an overwhelming reverse ever overtake him, his re- 
 tirement to a monastery would assume the appearance there- 
 fore of a voluntary step, rather than an inevitable and un- 
 pleasant consequence. 
 
 His reign belongs to the general history of Europe. His 
 figure is conspicuous in various groups, but it appears small 
 in many. He was mixed up in mighty enterprises, and 
 achieved some brilliant triumphs ; nevertheless he is not 
 seen equal to his reputation. He was more than once re- 
 pulsed by enemies whom he despised, and easily beaten by 
 foes whom it would have been lasting glory to vanquish. 
 With less ambition he might have gained more renown. 
 Had he possessed more steadiness of principle, he would 
 have incurred less reproach. He fancied he could create 
 oppoi'tunity, and did not know how to profit by it when it 
 presented itself. He might have been greater than Charle- 
 magne, but he preferred to be the German Diocletian. 
 Finally, had he possessed the sagacity attributed to him by 
 his admirers, and the sincerity which neither friend nor foe 
 ever ventured to attribute to him, he might have so guided 
 the Reformation as to have made the movement worthy of 
 that name ; and have secured for the world the blessing of 
 one united Christian Church, whose members might have 
 rendered willing homage to a spiritual sovereign enthroned 
 in Rome. 
 
 The great opportunities were lost ; nevertheless Charles, 
 after six-and-thirty years of rule, affected to conceal his dis- 
 appointment beneath expression of the conviction that he 
 had accomplished his mission ; — and then the report first
 
 CHARLES T. 311 
 
 began to pass from moutli to moutli, that the great Emperor 
 was about to lay dowTi the sceptre, aud to pass from all his 
 thrones to a cell in a convent among the Spanish mountains. 
 
 His quarters there had long been preparing. On the day 
 that his son Philip agreed to marry our Mary of England, 
 Charles signed directions for the construction of his retreat 
 at the Jeronimite convent of Tuste, or St. Just. "When it 
 was known that these directions had been fully attended to, 
 Charles made solemn resignation of empire. The hereditary 
 estates of the House of Austria he made over to his brother 
 Ferdinand, who succeeded him as Emperor. The Ts ether- 
 lands, Spain, Naples, and the newly-discovered South Ame- 
 rican Colonies, he yielded to his son Philip. After the 
 " hollow peace" of Augsburg, in 1555, this was probably the 
 wisest course left for Charles to follow. 
 
 On a September day, in 1556, he set sail from Flushing, 
 with a grandeur of circumstance that ill-accorded with his 
 new condition of a private gentleman. The flotilla consisted 
 of fifty-six ships, at the head of which was his own Biscayan 
 of 565 tons, the ' Holy Ghost,' commanded by Bertendona, 
 ■ — -whose name is sometimes taken for that of the ship, bear- 
 ing to his destination so renowned a guest. 
 
 For the especial service of that guest, who had renounced 
 the pomps and vanities of the world, one hundred and fifty 
 persons were in attendance. A further state was maintained 
 by the presence of many noblemen and their followers ; and 
 two dowager-queens of France and Hungary, sisters of 
 Charles, swelled the train aud gave it additional importance. 
 
 A weary time and a periloiis way the voyagers had of it. 
 During a great portion of both, Charles lay in his suspended 
 bed, draped with green curtains ; and he was not the least 
 rejoiced of the company to step ashore at Laredo, the San- 
 tander of these modern days. The wayfarers had not been 
 expected, and there were no preparations for their welcome 
 or comfort. Many of them fell seriously ill. Some seven
 
 312 MOKATICHS EETIEED FROM BTTSINESS. 
 
 or eight died. Eor the sick there were no physicians, for 
 the dying no priests. It was some days before the illus- 
 trious travellers were decently lodged and provided for. 
 "Wlien this had been accomplished, Charles, after making 
 gifts to the Church, set out upon his journey by land. 
 
 He travelled in a horse-litter, or, where the ways were 
 rough, in a chair carried by stout bearers. Three litters 
 and two chairs were provided to meet the possible exigen- 
 cies of the route. The progress made was little, and that 
 little slowly effected. It amounted to but twelve miles a 
 day, for four days, and then an entire day's rest, — at Medina 
 di Pomar. The discontent of the oiEcials, the infirmity of 
 Charles, and the tardiness of pace, gave an air of reluctance 
 to the entire expedition ; — and indeed it may be doubted if 
 there was a single sincerely willing, acquiescing individual 
 among tlie whole of the travellers. The dignity of some 
 was sorely offended by the presence of a few shabby Alcaldes 
 with a dozen or two of shabbier Alguazils, who served for 
 "escort." The officers of the household of Charles declared 
 that the travellers looked like a company of thieves in cus- 
 tody of the police. The ex-Emperor laughed at the idea ; and 
 its novelty reconciled him to that, against which attempt 
 was made to excite his disgust. 
 
 After the repose at Medina, interrupted by courtly visits, 
 audiences, and receptions, the party proceeded to Burgos, 
 which they reached in three days. The Spanish Government 
 had so arranged, that nothing now failed them on the road. 
 At one resting-place, Charles found a supply of provisions 
 and preserves. With his usual selfishness, he approjn'iated 
 the whole of the latter to his own use ; and he wrote very 
 urgently for a daily supply of melons, — a fruit fatal to more 
 than one Kaiser who liad eaten thereof to excess. The Im- 
 perial appetite, however, was so sharpened by travel, the 
 bracing autumnal air, and the uncertainty of supplies, that 
 a dish of flounders was on one occasion enjoyed with a de-
 
 CHARLES V. 
 
 313 
 
 light that had long been unknown to a palled and fanciful 
 appetite. 
 
 Six days were consumed in travelling between Burgos and 
 A^alladolid; but, to the delight of the smaller men of the 
 company, the Alcaldes and Alguazils were replaced by an es- 
 cort of cavalry. The most remarkable visitor whom Charles 
 received in the last-named city was his little grandson, the 
 ill-fated Don Carlos, — wdio, after being assassinated by his 
 own father, has been mis-represented by great, and murdered 
 by small, poets. The boy, attracted by the beauty of a gold 
 chafiing-dish held by the ex-Emperor, asked for it as a gift. 
 Charles, w'ho never loved any children, hated this boy almost 
 as fiercely as the poor boy's own father did ; — and he bade 
 him wait : " Ton may have it," he said, " when I am dead." 
 
 It was at Valladolid that he may be said to have finally 
 taken leave of all political business. He bade farewell 
 to the ladies of his officers, at a ball ; he wrote letters of 
 counsel to his successors, and addressed a note against the 
 unlucky Carlos, to his father Philip. In better mood, he 
 even bowed to a court buffoon. " Why a bow to me ?" 
 asked the licensed jester. " Because," answered the ex- 
 monarch, " a simple courtesy is all I have now to give." 
 
 Charles was little delighted with the state maintained 
 during the fortnight he sojourned at Valladolid ; and still less 
 with the boyish comments of his grandson Carlos, on his 
 flight from Innspruck. The Imperial irritability was ill-con- 
 cealed beneath an affected smile. With joy then he dined, 
 for the last time in his life, in public. This ceremony he 
 had not often observed after he had entered his fiftieth birth- 
 day ; and the loss of his teeth made the performances of so 
 large a feeder more painful to the actor and unpleasant to 
 the spectator. 
 
 Nine days, averaging four leagues a day, were spent in 
 passing from Valladolid to Xarandilla. There was more in- 
 convenience felt, than incidents encountered, by the way. On 
 
 YOL. I. P
 
 314 MOKAECnS RETIRED FROM BTJSITTESS. 
 
 the very first dav, Charles was so incommoded, probably by 
 his state dinner at ValJadolid, that his attendants were com- 
 pelled to carry the agonized glutton into a private garden 
 by the way-side, where they relieved his pain by applying 
 hot cushions to his aching stomach. x^_t the end of the 
 second day, he was received, at Medina del Campo, in the 
 house of a money-broker, Eodrigo de Duenas, who, in honour 
 of such a guest, filled his chafing-dish, not with charred vine- 
 tendrils, but with cinnamon. The homage was not agi-eeable 
 to the ex-Emperor, for he disliked the smell of the bark. 
 Charles would not allow his host to kiss his hand ; and on 
 leaving, in the morning, he paid for his fare, as though he 
 had been at an ordinary inn. 
 
 The abdicated monarch experienced the greatest delight 
 when traversing the wildest country. He exulted that 
 ceremony could not there meet him ; and on entering the 
 last pass that lay between him and his destination, he re- 
 marked, with complacency, that " only one other lay before 
 him — the pass of death." His care for creature comforts, 
 however, was exceeding great ; he heard with pleasure of the 
 supplies of anchovies, potted, and fresh fish forwarded to him 
 on his route ; and he accepted gratefully the eider-down 
 cushions sent to him from Madrid, remarking that they 
 would cut up into warm jackets, and that he should like 
 dressing gowns of the same material. He already suffered 
 extremely from the cold ; and the chafing-dish was seldom 
 from between his liands. Still his health and vigour were 
 wonderfully well sustained ; and after one of the roughest 
 and rudest of his days' progresses, he was well enough to go 
 out and witness the taking, by moonlight, of the trout upon 
 which he afterwards supped with voracious appetite. The 
 rest which offered itself at the end of his ninth day's journey 
 was, nevertheless, most grateful to him and his weary fol- 
 lowers ; and when Count Oreposa received the travellers, in 
 his house at Xarandilla, there was not one of them who did
 
 CHARLES V. 315 
 
 not feel grateful at the prospect of the three months' sojourn 
 which lay before them. 
 
 The convent was near, on the hill beyond the valley ; but 
 the preparations for the reception of the ex-Emperor were 
 not complete. It was hid from him by constant heavy fogs 
 and drenching rains ; and, as usual, the household were more 
 deeply discontented than the master. The damp and cold 
 affected him ; but he made light of both, and turned his 
 eider-down cushions into jackets, and was so defended against 
 either. The grumblers suggested that at Tuste the damp 
 and cold would be still worse than at Xarandilla. Charles 
 rode over, inspected the place, gave some directions, and on 
 returning, remarked, like the Cid, "that the lion was not 
 so ferocious as he had been depicted." 
 
 There was still some formal state, and there was much 
 courtly etiquette,yet maintained at Xarandilla. Charles there 
 received many noble gentlemen, learned scholars, gallant 
 soldiers, and ecclesiastical dignitaines, who came to pay him 
 homage. He seems to have given most welcome to the ex- 
 Duke of Grandia, — that Francis Borgia who, after dazzling 
 and perplexing the world, left it for the cloister, where he ob- 
 served a discipline that only narrowly escaped from being 
 suicidal. The monk treated Charles as Emperor, and the 
 ex-monarch treated Erancis as Duke. Their converse was 
 of old times, old projects, and later disappointments or rea- 
 lizations. Each, however, had an object in view. Erancis 
 - was a Jesuit, and hoped to induce the Imperial recluse to 
 take a confessor from among the .Society. Charles hated the 
 Jesuits, and expected to be able to induce Borgia to become 
 a Jeronimite. Each kept his own course, and neither blamed 
 the other. 
 
 Parting counsel, like maxims uttered by the dying, was de 
 spatched by Charles to the occupiers of the various thrones 
 now held by his successors. The affairs of the table continued 
 to engage his attention not less than the destinies of men. 
 
 p2
 
 316 MONABCnS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Tributes offish, flesh, fowl, and Flemish sausages, made as his 
 mother of blessed memory used to make them, were forwarded 
 to him from all quarters and from all classes. Some ladies sent 
 silver saucepans, wherein to carry on the more delicate pro- 
 cesses of cooking ; others laid at his feet rich scents, in ex- 
 quisitely carved flasks. The Duchess de Frijas presented 
 foi- his acceptance a packet of gloves. " She should have 
 sent me," said Charles, " hands to wear them." 
 
 These were in a pitiable state, with great chalk-stones, 
 and running sores. Chai'les, though he could allude to their 
 condition himself, ill brooked reference made* to them by 
 others. Just after his abdication from his Flemish authority, 
 when the absurdities of Brusquet, the famous French buffoon, 
 excited such meny uproar in the church, that Philip II. 
 was obliged to grasp the altar, that he might not fall by ex- 
 cess of laughing, Charles asked the jester if he recollected 
 the Battle of Spurs. " I remember it well enough," said 
 Sir Fool, " the better that it was there you got those pretty 
 rubies and carbuncles which you wear on your hands." 
 
 These honours, however, had been gained not in the field, 
 but through abuse of appetite everywhere. The Imperial 
 morning draught was cold beer, and plenty of it. This was 
 less safe than grateful to the stomach of a man who not only 
 rivalled the God whose proof of divinity lay in his consuming 
 much meat, but who at each nightly feast had his face in the 
 wine-pot much oftener than any other man at the board, and 
 who never drew back till he had swallowed a full quart. 
 His gastronomic excesses brought on intense suffering ; but 
 experience did not persuade, nor pain compel, him to mode- 
 ration. AVith few teeth, and very imperfect digestion, he 
 continued to eat from as many dishes, and to empty as many 
 flasks, as in the days when his powers were great, his health 
 flourishing, and his exercise regular. In this respect, he 
 had never been lord of himself. He was now less so than 
 ever. His medical men were his abettors ; with the excep-
 
 CHAELES V. 317 
 
 tion of Dr. Mola, they allowed him to satisfy every appetite, 
 without attempting to restrain him. They were content to 
 provide palliations, rather than establish a preventive course. 
 Least of all, would Charles surrender his darling beer. It 
 was suggested to him that he must either change his regime, 
 or give up the idea of living in this part of Spain. The only 
 remark of the intensely sick epicure was, that he was bound 
 by no vows to remain there or anywhere else. And so he 
 went on in his excesses, and became more freqtiently crippled 
 by long and debilitating attacks of gout and fever. 
 
 At length it was announced to him that all was ready for 
 him in his residence in the convent-gi'ounds of Yuste ; and 
 he cheerfully commenced the work of his departure. On 
 the 3rd of February, 1577, after diminishing his train by a 
 hundred followers, aftecting them to tears by the tenderness 
 of his leave-taking, and causing aifliction no less bitter to 
 those who found themselves compelled to continue their 
 service, he set out in a mule-litter for the convent. It was 
 then three o'clock in the afternoon, and there was a two 
 hours' march before them ere they could cross the valley 
 and ascend the hill on whose flanks lay the Jeronimite 
 convent. When his escort of halberdiers di-ew up to offer 
 their last service, they broke their pike-staves, in token that 
 military honours were not assorted with the circumstances 
 of the scene. One authority intimates that with the break- 
 ing of their staves ended their duty ; a second states that 
 weaponless they escorted the monarch who had descended 
 from the throne. The difference is of little moment. Charles 
 had still faithful, though not delighted, servants about him, 
 and with these he arrived, at five o'clock, at the portal of 
 the church of the convent of Tuste. The edifice was illu- 
 minated in his honour, the bells rang out a welcome, and 
 the brotherhood stood at the portal, contemplating a spec- 
 tacle which they could never have believed that they would 
 live to see. The ex-Emperor was lifted from his mule-litter,
 
 318 -MONARCns RETIRED EKOM BUSINESS. 
 
 and carried in a chair to the high altar, — the monks singing 
 Te Deum Laudamus as he was borne along ; and Charles ad- 
 dressing a few words, by the way, to the Count of Oi'opesa, 
 who was on his right, and the indefatigable Quixada, who 
 Avalked on his left. 
 
 At tlie conclusion of the service the Imperial guest held 
 his first ecclesiastical levee. Every monk was presented to 
 him, and they all appear to have maintained a quiet self- 
 respect, except the Prior, who got confused, addressed the 
 Emperor as "Your Paternity," and was corrected by a bro- 
 ther, who told him that "Your Majesty" was the proper 
 form to be employed. The ceremony concluded, Charles 
 retired to his owti apartments, to forget at supper the ob- 
 servation of his physician, or of a more humble servant, that 
 he would have little acquaintance with the gout if he would 
 only keep his mouth shut something more than was custo- 
 mary with him. 
 
 And such was the way by which the great Charles V. 
 passed from the highest condition of human greatness into 
 retirement. On leaving Elanders he had prophetic know- 
 ledge of what was to follow ; and his own conviction was that 
 he had flung the great events of his reign to the mercy or 
 chances of fortune. The Yenetian Ambassador already said 
 of him, that his reputation had gone, or rather, as the Legate 
 added, nearly gone. He compared it to a ship which, iu a 
 dead calm, is moved by rowers towing it in a boat ahead, 
 and which, after the oars are shipped and the towing-rope is 
 cast loose, still moves for a moment or two before it brings 
 np. To this latter motion, so soon not to exist, did the 
 Yenetian compare the reputation of Charles Y. 
 
 The retreat of the Emperor bore no resemblance to that 
 chosen by Diocletian, after he had deposited the Imperial 
 mantle, and laid upon it the splendid sword which the Em- 
 perors wore as a symbol of their rank. It was a residence 
 for a gentleman of refined tastes, and who had regard for
 
 CHAELES V. 319 
 
 his comfort. It was a pleasant house, communicatiug with 
 the church of the couveut, situated iu a pleasant garden, 
 and in the midst of a pleasant, but not of a paradisiacal 
 country, such as the Spanish "WTiters have described it. It 
 was an eight-roomed dwelling, the upper four rooms of which 
 were appropriated to the exclusive use of the abdicated 
 monarch. The walnut-tree which shaded it still survives ; 
 beneath its shade was often to be seen the man from whose 
 reign dates the discovery of the Peruvian gold-mines, and 
 therewith the decadence of Spain. 
 
 The house in the garden was comfortably furnished. The 
 kitchen was good, the cooks accomplished, the viands abun- 
 dant. Even ou meagre- days the formal fasting was merely 
 a change of much meat for superabundance of fish and 
 dainty dishes not disallowed by the Churcli. The apart- 
 ments were appropriately hung with dark cloth, on which 
 many a picture — cuuning work of some glorious craftsman — 
 challenged the readily-paid admiration of the sombre-looking 
 epicure, who gazed at them from his easy-chair. The bed- 
 room suited the profession and condition of the worn-out 
 warrior. It was simple, but complete, in its arrangements ; 
 and if the weary soldier were too ill, or not disposed to rise 
 from his bed, he could see from it the priest at the altar of 
 the church, and so follow the celebration and observances 
 of the Mass. His toilet-table was covered with miscellane- 
 ous articles, like that of Charles of Burgundy, and there 
 was as much variety in its drawers : gold ornaments and 
 jewellery did not lack, and mixed up with these were bezoar- 
 stones against the plague, cramp-rings from England, to 
 protect his swollen fingers from agony, and lying about on 
 every " coign of vantage," in every room, many dozen pairs 
 01 spectacles, ready for use whenever the old monarch re- 
 tjuu-ed them. 
 
 The religious community possessed several members who 
 were men of iuteikctual attainments,— travellers, scholars,
 
 320 MONAECHS EETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 soldiers, artists, musicians, — and with these Charles loved 
 to converse or otherwise amuse himself. The best vocalists 
 among the brotherhood attuned their voices, a little to the 
 glory of God, but very much more for the Imperial gratifi- 
 cation. They sang with diffidence before an exquisite judge, 
 who not only winced at a false note, but could at once de- 
 tect the very throat from winch it issued, and who never 
 spared the unlucky offender. Pains too were taken to pro- 
 vide for him the most able preachers ; several were attached 
 to the church, and if any happened to be travelling in the 
 vicinity, there was sure to be despatched to them a sum- 
 mons, which they were as sure to obey with alacrity. Pinally, 
 he had a household of sixty servants, and a library of only 
 thirty books. 
 
 This contrast might seem to warrant a sneer, but in truth 
 the sneer would be ill-founded. The servants were perhaps 
 more than were needed for either dignity or comfort ; but 
 the volumes, if few, were excellent of their sort ; and, as it 
 proved, the thirty were more than enough for a man who 
 had not thirty months to live. Among them were the works 
 in which he most delighted, — ^his favourite Fathers, the most 
 esteemed divines, the choicest historians, and a selection of 
 poets,— a few of each ; and one philosophical work, which is 
 said never to have been absent from the library of any well- 
 read gentleman of those days, — the well-known work of 
 Boethius, ' on Consolation,' — that salve for bruised minds, 
 which Madame Eoland says is never wanting to the virtu- 
 ous ; which Vauvenargues placed in religion, and which 
 Voltaire divided between friendship and study, giving the 
 first place to friendship. 
 
 The Imperial recluse could very well fill up his day. In- 
 firmity, rather than nicety, rendered his toilet long, and 
 the religious service which followed was frequent and not 
 brief. With the exception of innocent and not undignified 
 pastime, his hours were passed either at table or at the altar.
 
 CHARLES Y. 321 
 
 Even after bis midday meal be was read to sleep by uieaus 
 of a homily, from wbicb be was aroused to attend the ordi- 
 nary afteruoon services. 
 
 But perhaps the happiest hours of the declining years of 
 Charles were spent with the great mathematician and me- 
 chanician, Griovanni Torriani. The ex-Emperor had always 
 experieuced infinite enjoyment in the study of works of me- 
 chanism. When he entered Nuremberg, of all the phases 
 of the form of welcome which he there encountered, none 
 pleased more than the artificial eagle which flew to meet 
 him. When the fly, invented by Jean de Montreyal, flew 
 round him in the air, and ended b}^ alighting on his arm, 
 the feat delighted an emperor and inspired an indifferent 
 poet. The esteem of Charles for Torriani was gained by 
 that marvellous clock, projected but not completed, which 
 was to give record of a score of things besides passing time, 
 but which never even told the hour with strict correctness. 
 Charles had a passion for clockw'ork. When his diseased 
 appetite refused to be pleased with the artistic preparations 
 of his renowned cook, the latter great man expressed both his 
 peevishness and contempt, by remarking that he supposed 
 the only dish his master would look into with pleasure, 
 would be a pie stuffed with timepieces. In the construction 
 of such pieces Charles and Torriani consumed many an hour. 
 Louis XVI. had a similar taste ; and these illustrious per- 
 sonages ^\orked much to the same end. They endeavoured 
 to make many clocks observe an exact and invariable con- 
 formity in marking the time. Thej of course failed. Charles 
 is said to have impatiently observed, under his disappoint- 
 ment, that since he could not make two clocks strictly agree 
 in a matter so simple, it had been folly in him to imagine 
 that he could compel many men to be of one mind. It may 
 be doubted whether Charles ever made so foolish an obser- 
 vation, for certainly none knew better than he the difference 
 of conditions ; — and yet it may be admitted, that, great poli- 
 
 p3
 
 322 MONAECHS EETIBED FEOM BUSINESS, 
 
 tician and tolerable -workman as he was, he did not know- 
 how to rectify in some degree the variations that will be 
 found among pendulums of different lengths, and among 
 people of diverse faiths and nations. 
 
 In the pursuits of Charles and Torriani at Tuste, there 
 was a mixture of the great and the trivial. After dinner, 
 while a brother was reading some pages from St. Augustine, 
 the Italian mechanician would place on the table before 
 Charles, figures of knights armed and mounted, who tilted 
 at each other with as much energy as foes who had as little 
 cause for hostility. Another day, it was a mimic drummer, 
 who beat the point of war, or a trumpeter who furiously 
 blew his little charge ; and finally, small troops of chevaliers 
 would cover the circumscribed plain, and, levelling their 
 lances, rush through each other's ranks with imperturbable 
 regularity. The Superior of the Convent was one day pre- 
 sent at an exhibition of Torriani's skill. On the occasion in 
 question, the artist sent a flight of birds into the dining- 
 room ; and these so closely imitated nature in every respect, 
 that the astounded Father declared that the devil had to do 
 with it ; — and Torriani was contemplated by him Avith an 
 evil eye. 
 
 It was only the hours which the weary gastronome re- 
 quired for his painful digestion that were devoted to the en- 
 joyment of these laborious trifles. There were other sea- 
 sons, when the brain was not obscured and the stomach was 
 less oppressed ; and then, beneath the porch wliich caught 
 the rays of the sun in which Charles loved to bask, or in the 
 study of Torriani himself, the attention of master and dis- 
 ci])le was given to the solution of great and useful problems. 
 Among others, mention is made of a bold and gigantic pro- 
 ject, which was duly accomplished, but not till after the death 
 of Charles, when it was achieved by Gianello, and which 
 consisted in raising the waters of the low-lying Tagus to the 
 heights — the truly thirsty heights, as they might be called
 
 CHARLES T. 323 
 
 without affectation — of Toledo. Bourgoing says that tlie re- 
 mains of this ingenious machine are still to be seen on the 
 high rocky peninsula occupied by the city ; and, near them, 
 " ruins still more ancient, which must have formed part of 
 an aqueduct designed to convey water to the height of the 
 Alcazar, from springs seven or eight leagues distant, — a le- 
 gacy at once useful and magnificent, by which the Komans 
 have marked their residence in more than one place in 
 Spain." 
 
 With spring flowers, clear skies, and softer breezes, the 
 sojourners at Yuste experienced a greater measure of con- 
 tent and an improved condition of health. Therewith Charles 
 concerned himself more than ever, touching the troubled 
 condition of politics, and the gloomy aspect of things in ge- 
 neral. He made the whole world sensible that he had not 
 really laid down the Imperial mantle, but that he was merely 
 adjusting it ere he fell, — and meanwhile he claimed and ob- 
 tained obedience. The Diet did not make legal acceptance 
 of his resignation till May, 1558. Down to that day, he 
 designated himself "Emperor," named and received ambas- 
 sadors, and had crowds at his garden-gates, — noble and 
 simple, true men, impostors, and intriguing women, seeking 
 audience and assailmg him or his secretaries, with prayers 
 and petitions. 
 
 The income appropriated for his use did not amount to 
 much more than fifteen hundred pounds sterling, per an- 
 num. He had a reserved fund at Simancas, which he would 
 not touch, — nor allow to be touched, when the poverty of 
 the Spanish government, in spite of all its golden revenue, 
 compelled them to ask him to disburse a little of the hoard, 
 for the public weal. Charles showed a vicarious generosity 
 in pointing out wealthy churchmen whom the supreme au- 
 thority would do well to despoil of a portion of their trea- 
 sure. The Government went even further than this. They 
 seized on the gold belonging to private proprietors, which
 
 324 MONAECHS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS, 
 
 had just been brought from America by the bulHoB fleet. 
 The owuers, not likiug the terms offered, boldly attacked the 
 officials who held their property, and went oft' triumphantly 
 witli their gold. Charles could not tolerate in others the 
 un\yillingness to lend pecuniary aid to the Government which 
 he felt himself ; and he declared that he would have those 
 disloyal recusants punished, — ay, although he " held death 
 in his teeth." And indeed the oftence was not expiated 
 without a taste of the torture and the hangman. 
 
 At this period, however, it was, that Death began to close 
 his jaws upon the Emperor. The latter was, it is true, so 
 stirred by public news from beyond his retreat, that men 
 began to speculate upon the probability of his again appear- 
 ing in arms, to pursue his enemies, by the last argument of 
 Kings. It was a foolish speculation, for he who had been 
 so perfect an equestrian that men said, had he not been 
 boi'n a King, he would have become the prince of light 
 horsemen, was now so infirm that, after being assisted to 
 cross the saddle on an Andalusian pony, he tumbled out of 
 it, through mere giddiness. But thei'e were younger per- 
 sons in his vicinity who were suffering from a worse vertigo 
 than that which springs from old-age and an abused sto- 
 mach — the vertigo of famine. Great and dreaded as he was, 
 the hungry peasantry of the vicinity forgot their respect for 
 him, in their sufferings. They stripped his kitchen-garden, 
 plundered his orchards, impounded his cattle, drew the fish 
 from his ponds, and waylaid and rifled his mules, which tra- 
 versed the hunger-district, laden with dainties. 
 
 The ex-monarch chafed under these petty vexations ; and 
 he allowed even smaller troubles to unnecessarily vex him. 
 He loved his two sisters, the dowager-queens of France and 
 Hungary, — tlie first especially. But he loved them none the 
 more that their residence in his vicinity, when they paid 
 him a visit, caused meat to rise to the exorbitant rate of 2^d. 
 a pound. Neither to these, nor to any visitor, however iUus-
 
 CHAELES T. 325 
 
 trious, did he ever extend the hospitality of a place at his 
 table, or a bed beneath his roof. Francis Borgia formed 
 the only exception to this rule, — but the Jesuit was of a 
 profession to establish such exceptions ; and in fair weather 
 Charles would take a repast with him beneath a spreading 
 tree, and the Ducal monk was even known to have slept or 
 watched a night through, within the cottage-palace in the 
 garden at Yuste. 
 
 That they were not all honest men there, or that dishonest 
 men could find means to penetrate therein, is proved by the 
 fact of the theft of eight thousand ducats. The impossibi- 
 lity of discovering the thieves showed, perhaps, that the Cas- 
 tilian principle of honour among this class was not different 
 from that which is proverbially said to prevail among simi- 
 lar practitioners in other nations. However this may be, 
 the attention of Charles was soon drawn from minor trials 
 to matters of more moment. The autumn brought mists, 
 fevers, and catarrhs. Charles indulged his appetite more, 
 and resisted the eff'ects of indulgence, less. He suffered 
 mentally and bodily, in consequence. His favourite sister, 
 Eleanor, Queen-dowager of Trance, unexpectedly died. 
 Charles felt this blow acutely. " She was fifteen months 
 older than I," he said, "and in that period I shall rejoin 
 her ;" — and he helped the fulfilment of his prophecy, by 
 following a diet that would have destroyed the powers of 
 a younger stomach. 
 
 A settled gloom began to gather around him. It was 
 dispersed for awhile by the little festival, in the open air, 
 which marked the anniversary of his arrival. The master of 
 the novices is even said to have put aside his gravity, and to 
 have jokingly alluded to the termination of the year's novi- 
 ciate, and to the " profession" to be made by the new bro- 
 ther. The pleased Emperor followed up this joking vein, 
 by inscribing his own name first in a new register of the 
 brotherhood, — a register which travellers loved to look at,
 
 326 MOKARCIIS RETIRED PROM BUSINESS. 
 
 but wHcli disappeared when the armies of a monareli 
 mightier in his power and more humbled in his fall — the 
 armies of Napoleon — visited and devastated the spot made 
 famous by the residence of Charles. 
 
 The health of the latter was now rapidly giving way ; but 
 there was life in the old man yet. On Ash- Wednesday, he 
 did not fail to stand on the steps of the altar in the church, 
 to see that every one of the members of his household, from 
 Quixada to the very scullions, approached to communicate. 
 In Lenten processions he carried the symbolic ligiit, sym- 
 bolically extinguished it, and then scourged himself with 
 most unselfish severity. The religious festivals were his 
 gala-days. His only difficulty was in fasting. This seemed 
 to a man of such appetites the first of duties ; but he only 
 observed it by changing his diet, — not reducing the quan- 
 tity, or mortifying his inclination. His most joyous day 
 was that of St. Matthias. He would then put on the old 
 Jupiter, and appear at the window of his room which looked 
 into the church, in as much of the imperial glory as he had 
 by him to assume, — his robes, his orders, and his ineffable 
 air of majesty. It was the day on which he was bom, 
 crowned, and married. It was the anniversary of more 
 than one victory ; and it was the birthday of his illegitimate 
 son, Don John of Austria. For these and all other blessings 
 he returned grateful thanks on the festival of a Saint, under 
 whose further favour he hoped to die. At one or two minor 
 festivals, too, he exhibited much graciousness, and even once 
 dined with the friars ; but he liked not their fare. At this 
 time his ulcerated fingers could no longer hold a gun ; but 
 he looked after the onions in his garden, watched his flowers, 
 and altogether (and always excepting his heavy hours at 
 table) he lived so refining and chastening a life, that it is 
 impossible not to feel sm-prise at his forbidding the ap- 
 proach of women to the convent, under a penalty of two 
 hundred lashes.
 
 CHAELES Y. 
 
 327 
 
 The trutb is, and it is a most inelanclioly truth, that the 
 more ceremonially pious he grew, the more irritable and the 
 less charitable and tolerant he became. Amid his own acute 
 pains, the horrors of his indigestion, and his anxieties touch- 
 ing the future destiny of the Empire, of Spain, of the Ne- 
 therlands, and of Christendom as opposed to the Moslem 
 power, he never ceased to urge, earnestly, incessantly, im- 
 ploringly, impei'iously, that one practice should not be 
 allowed to fall into disuse — the burning of heretics. For 
 these he had no bowels of mercy, were they his own friends, 
 or the most faithful of his followers. Burn them, destroy 
 them, curse them and their memories, seemed the burden 
 of his dying song. If there were one thing in him that took 
 the shape of sin, and seemed to him past chance of forgive- 
 ness, it was that he had not burned Luther, when he had the 
 Eeformer in his power. It is true that he had pledged his 
 word for his safety. The Imperial honour had been the 
 warranty for Luther's safety ; but what was such honour, 
 he now thought, in comparison with the inestimable benefit 
 he should have conferred on the Church and Christendom 
 by breaking his pledge as King, Knight, and Christian, and 
 burning Luther to ashes before the eyes of the whole world ? 
 Charles never ceased to regret his foolish good-nature, and 
 his censurable fidelity in this respect. He groaned and wept 
 at the thought that he had not led Luther to the stake, and 
 consumed him and his doctrines, if that were possible, in 
 the same flames. 
 
 Meanwhile the fire of fever began rapidly to consume 
 himself. The heat of his stomach, gout, weak sight, and 
 his inflamed and itching legs, kept him in a continual state 
 of irritation. His impatience and his obstinacy were terri- 
 ble. To ease his burning and itching limbs, he would sleep 
 with his legs uncovered. Chills were the inevitable conse- 
 quence, and therewith fever. But he preferred the latter 
 to being tortured by cutaneous irritation. The cold was, at
 
 328 MONAllClIS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 all events, grateful to him for a time ; — tbougli lie could 
 burst into fury at it wben lie foiuid tliat the autumn frost 
 had been severe enough to kill the melons in his garden. He 
 poured cold beer into his heated stomach, slept with doors 
 and windows open, and dashed his inflamed legs into cold 
 water. Day by day he grew worse. He was weaker, — so weak 
 that he was unable to rid himself of the phlegm in his throat, 
 which threatened to choke him. Robertson speaks of the de- 
 cay of his intellectual faculties ; but trustworthy authorities 
 followed by Prescott, Stirling, and Miguet, and the more 
 full and admirable ' Charles Quint' of Amedee Pichot, attest 
 that, however feeble he became in body, his mind preserved 
 its strength, brightness, dignity, and courage to the very 
 last. When most feeble in body, and most acutely suflering, 
 he neglected no religious duty ; and, helpless as an infant, 
 he was aided by his faithful and attached servants to per- 
 form all the prostrations, even as the most vigorous among 
 the monks. Their hands let him gently fall to the ground, 
 and as gently raised him, and placed him in his seat. It 
 w^as a touching, rather than a contemptible, spectacle ; for no 
 doubt, fiercely uncharitable and grovellingly superstitious as 
 the moribund monarch may seem to us, he was sincerely 
 religious accordiuer to the instruction he had received, and 
 the conscience by which he was guided. There was some- 
 thing sublime in the way in which he cast himself down be- 
 fore the throne of mercy, acknowledging his sins, and im- 
 ])loriug with earnest voice the benefits of a redemption — 
 from which he w^ould very heartily have kept that accursed 
 Luther who had crossed his path, and the arch-heretics who 
 accepted the Reformer's doctrine. 
 
 The spectacle of the ex-Emperor celebrating his own 
 funeral service, has been divested of much of its apparent 
 absurdity by the simple statements of eye-witnesses, and 
 modern writers who have reproduced their statements. It 
 was a solemnity however on which even Charles did not
 
 CHAELES T. 
 
 329 
 
 venture till he had received ecclesiastical permission. He 
 did not attend it in his shroud, nor lie down in his own 
 coffin. There were the ordinary ornaments which the Eomish 
 Church uses at the usual services for the dead, and nothing 
 more. The only exception to the ordinary service was when 
 Charles, extinguishing the light which he held, surrendered 
 it into the hands of a priest, in token of yielding up his life, 
 and his immortal spirit, to the will of God. 
 
 The excitement of the scene however was too much for 
 his shattered nerves. The following day he was in his gar- 
 den, too ill to walk. In obedience to his expressed desire, 
 the portrait of his first wife was brought out to him, and he 
 sat and silently gazed at it, in deep meditation, for a con- 
 siderable time. His thoughts were then with the past, but 
 his infirmity soon recalled him to the present. He was 
 borne into the house, and carried to his bed, never again to 
 issue from either alive. About three weeks he thus lay, 
 surely though slowly dying, and very sincerely regretted by 
 his faithful attendants. The details of his illness are given 
 with the regularity of a bulletin, in the recently published 
 accounts of his cloister-life, but there is nothing sufficiently 
 striking in them to call for their reproduction here. Suffice 
 it to say, that on the 21st of September, 1558, the once lord 
 of many thrones, and the victor in many fields, died, in the 
 fifty-ninth year of his age. His last expressed wish was to 
 be entombed with his dear first wife ; and among those who 
 heard the wish was his illegitimate son, Don John of Aus- 
 tria, whose presence there was a smart practical comment 
 upon the conjugal fidelity and afiection of Charles the Fifth. 
 
 In the garden in front of the house, there was a lily, which, 
 in the mouth of May previous to the Emperor's decease, 
 had two buds. Only one of these flowered in the month 
 named. The other remained closed, but fresh, and it con- 
 tinued in that state till the night on which Charles died ; 
 when it suddenly opened, putting forth one single leaf.
 
 330 MONARCHS EETIRED TEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 There was something so unusual in the circumstance, that 
 the flower was exhibited on the high altar, and its condition 
 was taken as a happy omen for that of the deceased ex- 
 monarch. One consequence of his iDfirmity merits also a 
 word of record, as it passed into a fashion. He suffered so 
 intensely from headache, that he had his hair cut close, and 
 thence arose the mode of wearing it short. 
 
 The bodies of father and illegitimate son were re-united in 
 death, but not till long after the peasants of the Vera of Pla- 
 sencia had forgotten the boy whom they used to pelt with 
 stones for despoiling their cherry-trees. The corpse of the ex- 
 Emperor remained, till the year 1574, shut up in a rude chest, 
 which was deposited in the chapel, where it may be yet seen, 
 empty. The corpse was transferred, at the date above-men- 
 tioned, to the Escurial, where it lies among those legitimate 
 and illegitimate loves which most affected the living monarch. 
 The monks of Yuste were reluctant to lose a sacred deposit 
 which brought them many visitors and acceptable fees. They 
 addressed Philip II. for some compensation, under the cir- 
 cumstances ; but Philip, who had made spies of half the 
 household of his father, and received from them full and 
 regular details of his sire's designs and opinions, very un- 
 truly told the poor brothers that it was not at all likely that 
 they had among them, for so many months, so great a mon- 
 arch, without weU " feathering their nests." 
 
 Doubtless, if it were a satisfaction to the manes of Charles 
 V. to be laid by the side of his consort, there was not less 
 content when by the remains of the sire were placed those 
 of the illegitimate son, — the great hero of Lepanto, the vic- 
 tim poisoned in Inlanders, and first buried in Namur, as 
 those may remember who have passed that way, and whose 
 thoughts have not been exclusively devoted to " My Uncle 
 Toby." 
 
 How the body of the gallant warrior, Don John, was taken 
 up, disboned, carried piecemeal in a courier's wallet to Spain,
 
 CHARLES V. 331 
 
 there strung together again by wires, covered with the ordi- 
 nary dress of the living Don John, and, truncheon, in hand, so 
 presented to Philip II. at a private interview, has been told 
 in another work. When the interview was over, the gaily 
 dressed corpse (with a crown on the brow, intimating the 
 Irish crown, it is said) was unrobed and committed to the 
 silent company of the paternal Charles. The mystery touch- 
 ing tlie mother of Don John has led to one hideous and "im- 
 possible " tradition, — as unfounded as the more agreeable 
 fourteen mistatements which \"on Platen has contrived to 
 insert in one sonnet, " Der Pilgrim von St. Just." 
 
 If the causes which led to the abdication of Charles, and 
 the manner of life which he led after surrendering the crown, 
 be compared with the reasons which drove earlier monarchs 
 into cloisters, and the course of life to which they were con- 
 demned, the examiner will not fail to discern that, powerful 
 as the Church had grown in later times, the State — that is, 
 the monarch — had grown even more potential in proportion. 
 
 In primitive times, the rude King, worn out by opposi- 
 tion, or terrified by attempts at assassination, was often re- 
 joiced to be permitted to plunge into a cell, and there find 
 oblivion and safety. It is certain that some of our deposed 
 Saxon sovereigns lived very much at their ease among theii* 
 cowled brethren ; but this was an exception rather than a 
 rule. There are instances where the ex-monarch was re- 
 duced to the condition of a menial, and, like Carloman, 
 milked the cows of the sacred community. They were 
 monks in deed as well as in name, and were bound by their 
 vows of obedience, to submit to all the directions of their 
 spiritual superiors. It was far otherwise with Charles Y. If 
 cu'cumstances of public pressure and personal health com- 
 pelled him to surrender his crown, the accomplishment of 
 the act had a voluntary aspect. Then, he was among the 
 monks, but he was not of them. There was many a poor 
 joke about his being a " brother," but he was only so in jest.
 
 332 MOKARCHS EETIREB FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 He never ceased to be Emperor ; he retained as many Im- 
 perial privileges as furthered his enjoyment of life, and got 
 luckily rid of those which did not agree with his pleasures 
 or his health. He indulged in luxurious living; and although 
 he laid the scourge lustily on his own hack, no churchman 
 dared to order him to do so, and he could pause whenever 
 his loins began to ache. He was the most impetuous of 
 penitents ; and the director of his conscience was not bold 
 enough to go beyond his pupil's own suggestions. This con- 
 fessor, indeed, was in some sort a very slave. Juan E-egla 
 had risen from the condition of a shepherd-boy to be one of 
 the first of theologians. It was with great reluctance, how- 
 ever, that he undertook to keep in the fold so precious a 
 lamb as the capricious ex-Emperor. He blushed to sit in 
 presence of Charles ; and the latter was not sorry to see 
 this sign of diffidence in a man who M'as supposed to have 
 the Imperial salvation in his keeping. The Imperial recluse 
 styled him " master," but he was really the ward. Eegla 
 one day took the liberty of going over from Tuste to Pla- 
 sencia, without first asking the Imperial permission. Charles 
 despatched a messenger, with an express order to the confes- 
 sor, to return immediately. "Look you here," said Charles to 
 his spiritual director, " let it in future be a well-understood 
 matter that you never leave the convent without my being 
 first informed of your intention ; for it is my desire that you 
 never leave me for a single instant." The monk was aftected 
 at this burst of displeasvire ; and after that time he never 
 crossed the boundary of the monastery till Charles had 
 breathed his last. This training fitted him for the post which 
 he afterwards filled, that of confessor to Philip II., in the 
 Escurial. 
 
 Charles was never more despotic and irresponsible than 
 when at Yuste ; and he consequently never regretted the 
 resolution which had brought him thither. Sovereign in all 
 essentials, he could very well dispense with those attributes
 
 CHARLES V. 333 
 
 of royalty whicli Mr. Stirling classes under the head of 
 " pageants, guards, and gold-sticks." Even after the Diet 
 had accepted his resignation, and Charles had designated 
 himself as "a private man," he was still addressed under the 
 the coui'tesy title of Emperor ; — and with the courtesy there 
 was still much suhstantial power. His seal no longer bore 
 crown, golden fleece, or eagle ; but M'hat was under the seal 
 lacked nothing of emphasis or influence, because these out- 
 ward signs were wanting. The only memorial now existing of 
 the residence of the ex-Emperor in this place, is in an inscrip- 
 tion, surmounted by the Imperial arms, in the corner of the 
 garden. It is to the following effect, and is of that men- 
 dacious quality which led the Ephori to forbid the use of 
 epitaphs. " In this holy house of St. Jerome of Tuste, 
 ended his days, he who spent the whole of them in defence 
 of the finth and in support of justice, Charles V., Emperor, 
 King of Spain, most Christian, invincible. He died on the 
 21st September, 1588." The monks had no other profit from 
 his residence among them than the honour resulting there- 
 from. Quixada cleared the house of aU valuables ; the French 
 injured the dwelling ; silkworms have been reared in the 
 Emperor's room, and some of the Imperial vases were carried 
 off by an apothecary to decorate his shop at Xarandilla. 
 
 Fifteen Emperors and one Empress succeeded to the re- 
 sponsibilities of government, and nearly three hundred years 
 elapsed before G-ermany again saw the spectacle of an Im- 
 perial abdication. Charles voluntarily laid down the trap- 
 pings rather than the substantialities of sovereign authority, 
 in 1556. Ferdinand, Emperor indeed not of Germany, but 
 of Austria, was prayed, persuaded, and pushed from his un- 
 easy seat, in 1848. Before we touch upon his story, let us 
 render it somewhat more intelligible, by briefly noticing the 
 Kaisers by whom he was preceded ; some of whom were vir- 
 tually deposed, although they wore the crown. 
 
 When the dominions of Charles were divided, Austria and
 
 334 MONARCIIS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 the Imperial crowu fell to his brother, Eerdinand I., — a man 
 who compassed the murder of Martinizzi, that he might 
 oppress Hungary, and who rendered the elective crown of 
 Bohemia hereditary in his family, without consulting the 
 feelings of the Bohemians. A better fame attaches to him, 
 as having establislied the great fact that Papal coronation 
 was unnecessary to render valid the possession of the Im- 
 perial croAvn. Ohsequium, and not the stereotyped Ohedi- 
 entia, was henceforth the tribute to be paid by Austria to 
 Bome. 
 
 The Kaiser of our days has gone back to worse than the 
 old slavery, and Austria has been surrendered by the boy 
 Emperor, bound hand and foot, gagged and tln-ottled, to the 
 Pope. 
 
 Eerdinand was a pupil of Erasmus, and, like his great 
 master, he could recognize the errors of Popery without 
 thereby feeling any the more warmly in behalf of the Ee- 
 formation. He had almost banished his son Maximilian 
 from his country, for daring to retain a Lutheran preacher 
 in his service ; and he was not indisposed to force upon the 
 Eeformers his conviction of the naughtiness of the Befor- 
 mation, by having Protestants publicly whipped through the 
 streets. The obstinate fellows remained unconvinced, in 
 spite of the weight and smartness of the argument. The 
 Beformers hailed the accession of Maximilian with joy, and 
 indeed they found him an equitable master. He was em- 
 phatically a " knight and gentleman ;" and it is said that he 
 never purchased an article of jewellery for his own adorn- 
 ment. The Beformers looked for halcyon days through 
 him ; but he left the education of his children to his bigoted 
 wife, Mary of Spain, and when she, as a widow, saw her fiery 
 son, Budolph, Emperor, she thanked God for that ; and, re- 
 pairing to her native country, she further blessed Heaven 
 that she was again in a country where no heretic could re- 
 main and live. The son rided as the mother had taught
 
 CHARLES Y. 335 
 
 liirn, and his Protestant subjects passed througt an ordeal 
 of fire and blood. He brought tlie kingdoms over which he 
 reigned, and the empire wherein he governed, to the very- 
 brink of ruin. He died, as he deserved, crownless and ab- 
 hoiTed. Apart from the questions of religion, Rudolph, 
 besides being accomplished in all abstruse sciences and mo- 
 dern acquirements, — besides being grave with Tycho Brahe, 
 and merry with a professional jester, — was the gayest and 
 most gallant of cavaliers. He was so fond of horses that 
 his Ministers were often compelled to disguise themselves 
 as grooms, that they might obtain access to the permanent 
 refuge he had taken in his stables ; and there, by the side 
 of rack and manger, more weighty questions were discussed 
 than ever troubled the Duke of Parma and Thomas AA^ard, 
 stud-groom to the Duke, and regent of the Duchy. 
 
 The succeeding reigns of IMatthias and Ferdinand II. 
 were almost exclusively occupied by wars. It was the age 
 of Wallenstein, of Tilly, and Gustavus ; and the Reforma- 
 tion in Germany had well-nigh been suifocated in blood. 
 Ferdinand is infamous for the number of Protestants he" 
 destroyed, and for the multitude of monks whom lie pen- 
 sioned ; for Reformed churches which he burnt, and for the 
 innumerable convents which he built. And yet, despite all 
 he did for Rome, a single agent of that power foiled his 
 most ardent desires ; and when this took place, he exclaimed 
 with a groan, " A Capuchin friar has disarmed me with his 
 rosary, and covered six electoral caps with his cowl." His 
 favourite and second son, Leopold, was a singular character. 
 Men called him "the Angel." His prayers were believed 
 to have an intercessory power. He was fond of rearing 
 beautiful plants ; but he refrained from smelling them, on a 
 principle of mortification! He held that such abstinence 
 would be accounted to him for righteousness. The eldest 
 son succeeded to the Empire, and he healed many of the 
 wounds inflicted bv his father. Ferdinand III. reconciled
 
 336 MONAKCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Protestants with Catholics ; but Pope Innocent refused to 
 ratify the peace. Ferdinand was weak of constitution ; and 
 his death was caused by a singular accident. As he lay in- 
 disposed in a room in his palace, a fire broke out in the 
 apartment of his infant son. A guard, who had secured 
 child and cradle, rushed so impetuously with them into the 
 Emperor's room, that he struck the cradle with such force 
 against the wall that it was dashed to pieces. The child 
 rolled out unhurt, but the Kaiser died of the fright. 
 
 Ferdinand had basely oifered to hold Hungary as a fief 
 of the Porte. His son, Leopold III., was worthy of so mean- 
 spirited a sire. When the Turks had swept through Hun- 
 gary itself, and appeared in force before Vienna, Leopold 
 ran away from the capital, amid the execrations of his de- 
 serted subjects. The capital and country were saved by the 
 chivalrous and henpecked Sobieski, King of Poland. "When 
 the Turks had been routed by that king among knights, 
 and the danger had ceased, Leopold returned to his palace. 
 His gratitude, like his courage, was small. He made diffi- 
 culties as to the reception by him, an apostolic Emperor, 
 of one who was only an elective King. The terms were ar- 
 ranged for the meeting as though the rescued Emperor was 
 conferring a favour on his deliverer. They met on horse- 
 back before their troops. Leopold bowed coldly, and stam- 
 mered out a few meaningless words. Sobieski smiled, 
 shrugged his shoulders, wheeled I'ound, and galloped back 
 to his men. And so the debt of gratitude was paid ; and 
 yet this Leopold was called ' the Great.' The Jesuits, of 
 whom he was a pupil, and of whose society he was at one 
 time a member, had made tliis man a sanguinary persecutor. 
 His domestic life is illustrated by an anecdote told in con- 
 nection with his recluse habits. An Imperial chamberlain, 
 once seeing a little dark figure in one of the corridors, asked 
 hitn if he knew where the Emperor was. A hollow voice 
 replying, " I am he," nearly frightened the official to death.
 
 CHARLES y. 337 
 
 It is a fact that, saving to a select few, with whom he could 
 be sprightly enough, Leopold was a stranger to the inmates 
 of his own palace. That he had some sense was exhibited 
 in his giving his son Joseph other tutors than the Jesuits. 
 The fruits thereof were manifest in Joseph's toleration of 
 the Protestants. But there was good reason for it. Joseph 
 had to thank Marlborough for the preservation of his 
 dominions. The Jesuits, who hated Sobieski, perfectly de- 
 tested the English general ; and they impressed upon the 
 Emperor that to be saved by a heretic was not to be saved 
 at all. Joseph could not recognize any logical conclusion 
 in such an argument. That it was a good one was doubt- 
 less clear to Jesuit speculation, by the Emperor's being re- 
 tributively attacked with smallpox in the thirty -third year 
 of his age. All that art could do to save him was tried, but 
 all in vain. His physicians hermetically closed his apart- 
 ments, kept up a blazing fire, gave him strong drinks, and 
 even swathed him in twenty yards of English scai'let broad- 
 cloth. In spite of these well-advised remedies, the patient 
 died, and doctors wondered wherefore. 
 
 Joseph was too modest to allow his Laureates to praise 
 him in their odes. "I want to hear good music," he said, 
 "and I detest flattering eulogy." At his death, his bro- 
 ther Charles was in Spain, endeavouring to fight his way to 
 the Spanish crown, which Louis XIV. had so cleverly con- 
 trived to fix on the brow of his grandson Philip. Charles 
 proceeded to Germany, through England, and was Queen 
 Anne's guest at Windsor. He remained at Court three 
 days, and, though well pleased with all he saw, was not 
 observed to smile once during the whole time. The light- 
 hearted circle were as glad when he had gone as if they had 
 got rid of a gentleman-vampire. He was slow in moving 
 towards the greatness that awaited him ; and he was not 
 excited to greater activity by a remark of General Stanhope 
 that " King William, Sir, entered London in a coach wdth a 
 
 TOL. I. Q
 
 338 MONAECIIS KETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 cloak-bag behind it, and was made King not many -weeks 
 after." Charles was inordinately fond of finery-, particularly 
 of jewellery. His reign was one long war, in which the for- 
 tunes of his House appear to have departed with ^Marlborough 
 and Eugene. The Jesuits compelled him to dismiss aU his 
 Protestant generals, and to enter on measures which threa- 
 tened to ruin England, whose blood and treasures had been 
 lavishly poured forth for his advantage. He will be ever 
 remembered as the author of that puzzle to schoolboys, the 
 " Pragmatic Sanction." His father Leopold had settled the 
 succession of the Austrian dominions on Joseph, and, failing 
 male heirs of Joseph, on Charles. Should both die without 
 male heirs, the daughters of Joseph were to succeed in pre- 
 ference to the davighters of Charles. The latter, on becom- 
 ing Emperor, induced Joseph's daughters to renounce their 
 rights, and he fixed the succession, having no sons, upon his 
 daughters. This was the " Pragmatic Sanction." By virtue 
 thereof, Maria Theresa, the eldest daughter of Charles, in- 
 herited the Austrian provinces. France and Prussia sup- 
 ported the Elector of Bavaria, as Emperor (Charles VII.), 
 but after three years (1745) Maria Theresa became Empress 
 of Germany through her husband, Ei'ancis of Lorraine, the 
 elected Emperor ; but she ruled as monarch de jure, and her 
 consort was little more than first gentleman of her chamber. 
 Her father, who died in 1740, of overfeeding on mushrooms 
 stewed in oil, when suffering from indisposition, was a strange 
 compound. When war was raging, his country falling into 
 ruins, and his Court receiving the bribes of his enemies, he 
 composed an opera. The parts were filled by noble ama- 
 teurs. He himself led the orchestra. In the ballet which 
 followed, his daughter enacted the principal characters, and 
 danced in flesh-coloured tights and very brief muslin. 
 
 Iii Maria Theresa the dramatic propensity was very 
 strongly developed. On receiving intelligence of tlie great- 
 est of the victories gained by her army over that of Prussia,
 
 CHARLES V. 339 
 
 slie manifested her gratitude to Heaven by getting up a 
 chariot-race, in which she herself appeared, drove six fiery 
 steeds abreast, and scoured through the sawdust of her 
 Hippodrome with a mimic fury that would have delighted 
 the experienced eyes of Mr. Ducrow. She was a heroine : 
 it is not to be disputed ; but she was a most ungrateful 
 woman. To maintain her in her position, we gave her 
 annual millions, and furnished her with successive armies. 
 But when we added a little sound advice, she averred that 
 England had never done anything but injure her, and that 
 all our service was based upon selfishness. Finally, she 
 coalesced with our most inveterate enemies, and united with 
 France in order to destroy England, which had stood be^ 
 tween France aud her when, without our aid, she would 
 have been driven into exile and destitution. To effect the 
 alliance, Maria Theresa addressed the French King's mis- 
 tress, Madame de Pompadour, as "ma chere cousine ;" but 
 she did worse than this : — when she told our Minister, Mr. 
 Keith, that she would sign no treaty with France which 
 could injure England, her signature had just been affixed to 
 just such a treaty. 
 
 Her husband, Francis, played ever a secondary part. Once, 
 at a levee, when the Empress-Queen was giving audience, 
 lie withdrew from the circle, and took a seat in the retired 
 corner of the apartment, among some ladies, who rose as he 
 approached. " Sit down, I pray," was his remark, " for I 
 shall stay till the Court leaves." — " But while your Majesty 
 is here, here is the Court." " Tut, tut !" said Francis, " I am 
 but a poor cavalier ; the Empress and my children are the 
 Court." He was kind-hearted, gentle, and brave ; and when 
 he died, Maria Theresa made with her own hands the shroud 
 that was to cover his body. Her own last words to her son 
 Joseph, who was persuading her to try and sleep, were, 
 " Joseph, when God is calling, who dares sleep ?" 
 
 This Emperor Joseph is thus described by one of his bio- 
 
 q2
 
 340 MONAHCHS EETIEED FHOM BUSINESS. 
 
 graph ers: — "His toilet is that of a common soldier ; his ward- 
 robe that of a sergeant ; business is his recreation, and his 
 life perpetual motion." A Grenadier in the Bavarian war 
 said of him, " AVhy should I complain of dangers, when I see 
 the crown of my sovereign as much exposed as my own cap ?" 
 Joseph said of himself, in the epitaph he wrote for his own 
 grave, " Here lies a Sovereign, who with the best intentions 
 never carried a project into execution." Frederick of Prussia 
 said of him, " His head was a confused magazine of de- 
 spatches, decrees, and projects." His fixed idea was to give 
 one faith, one language, one system of government, through- 
 out his diversely constituted dominions ; he thought it was 
 possible to allow unrestrained liberty, and yet compel every 
 man to think as he did. He was infinitely superior, however, 
 to his brother and successor, Leopold, whose private life was 
 licentious, and who was bewailed by his wife, at his death, 
 only because she then lost the unlimited rule which Leopold 
 had allowed her in the affairs of government. In 1792, 
 Leopold's son, Francis, ascended the throne. He was the 
 last sovereign of the Elective Empire of Grermany ; the first 
 (in 1804) of the hereditary Empire of Austria, wherein the 
 third heir now holds the sceptre, and yet not by direct in- 
 heritance. The annals of the House show that none of 
 its princes ever reached power but when war or insurrection 
 was raging, or was imminent. The first Emperor of Austria, 
 indeed, died when peace blessed the nation, but his heir, 
 Ferdinand, dropped the sceptre amid the flames of revolu- 
 tion ; and the young prince who picked it up, holds it under 
 the tutelage of a nobility who are said to make little of the 
 Emperor, in order to make the more of themselves. Let us 
 now look at the Kaiser whom he displaced, and who is now 
 resident in the Hradschin, at Prague.
 
 lil 
 
 FERDINAND I. OF AUSTRIA. 
 
 " The monarch quits his throne, and condescends 
 Humbly to court the favour of his friends." — CnuKCHiLL. 
 
 Ferdinand the First, of Austria, was born in the year 1793. 
 In his early years he was kind-hearted, and has throughout 
 life been weak of mind and infirm of body. He was thirty- 
 two years of age when he succeeded to the crown ; and du- 
 ring the thirteen years it was worn by him, he may be said, 
 according to Vehse, to have done little, but, in the closing 
 years of the period, and particularly in the double flight from 
 Schonbrunu to Innspruck andOlmiitz, to have suflcredmuch. 
 He reigned, under the simple illusion that he governed ; but 
 he really did neither. His cretinism rendered him incapa- 
 ble, but his imbecility concealed from him his want of capacity. 
 Vehse adduces two illustrations of his weakness of mind ; 
 and that lively writer sarcastically calls them "touching." 
 When Ferdinand was yet in the Imperial Palace, at Vienna, 
 he remarked, " I once very readily paid a visit to one of the 
 theatres in the suburbs ; but I don't know,— I can't make out 
 whether they wanted me or not." He thought he was there 
 to put his signature to some document, and he was puzzled 
 as to whether he had been asked to do so, or not ! At 
 Prague, when he was at issue with the patriots or rebels in 
 his chief capital, he asked the Commandant in Bohemia, 
 Count Clam G alias, how matters were going in Vienna. The 
 latter replied, that they were coming round to the condition 
 in which they had been under his Imperial Majesty. " Ah !"
 
 342 MONAECHS BETIRED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 exclaimed poor Ferdinand, " we really did make our people 
 happy ; — but it was a dog's life, after all !" 
 
 When Ferdinand ascended the throne, he found that his 
 father had left him the old minister Metternich, as a legacy, 
 which he was compelled to accept. "When he unwillingly took 
 that minister by the hand, Metternich bound him tightly iu 
 swathing bands ; and from that day, Ferdinand was a mere 
 puppet, who made motions as the Minister pulled the strings. 
 The object of the Minister was to keep things as they were, 
 and to prevent their being changed by a successor. One of 
 the greatest of minds was thus devoted to the least possible 
 of objects. 
 
 Ferdinand, ever sickly, indifferent, and imbecile, was more- 
 over completely under the "government of the slipper." His 
 consort, and his sister-in-law, the Archduchess Sophia, held 
 powerful sway over his weak mind. Influences scarcely less 
 powerfulwere exercised over the Emperor by one oftheladies- 
 in-waiting, Catherine Cibbiai. She was a favourite with Fer- 
 dinand, for two especial reasons ; she could play with him on 
 the piano, — the only thing he himself could do tolerably 
 well ; and in his epileptic fits, no person attended him with 
 such zeal and success as this lady. Betw-een the ministerial 
 oligarchy, who made the Court as well as the people their 
 servants, and the female Camarilla, who followed the instruc- 
 tions of the oligarchy, Ferdinand was paralyzed. The people 
 recognized his want of capacity, even had he been free, to 
 save them from bitter oppression, and the nation from an- 
 archy. Things went on from bad to worse, until May, 184S, 
 when an insurrection broke out in the capital, and Emperor 
 and Court took their flight from Schonbrunn to Innspruck. 
 
 The details of the revolution; the course by which a good 
 cause was ruined ; the ministerial changes ; the Diet held at 
 Krunsler, and the residence of the Imperial Court at Olmiitz, 
 — these subjects are of too recent occurrence to require 
 narration here, even were there space for them. It must
 
 rEEDI>'AXD I. OP AUSTHIA. 343 
 
 suffice to say that to every man but tlie Emperor it was 
 manifest that no progress to a good end could even be com- 
 menced till a new monarch was at the helm, with a ministry 
 between him and the people, who could respect the one and 
 help the other. Bohemian Coimtesses, in loyal and limjiing 
 poetry, in vain sang of Jellachich " reseating the Kaiser on 
 his victorious sabre ;" and Prince Windischgriitz fruitlessly 
 penned documents in which the spelling was nearly as loose 
 as the syntax, and the logic so ferociously absurd that the 
 AYestminster Epilogue might have extracted more from out 
 of him than it did. All the world saw that not only must 
 the old mummies be swept away, but that the chief, the most 
 unconscious, and the least blamable of all, must he swept 
 away with the rest. The difficulty lay in bringing about the 
 consummation delicately. 
 
 In very early days, monarchs who were "in the way" 
 were very easily got rid off, by the road of cloister, prison, 
 or more violent means. The method by which Ferdinand 
 was deposed shows the changes which had come over society. 
 The Church, indeed, effected it, but the influence applied 
 was well concealed. Recourse was had, by those who were 
 desirous of soon accomplishing the end m view, first to the 
 conscience-keepers of the chief Court ladies ; and when those 
 ecclesiastical gentlemen had been fittingly instructed, the 
 well-intentioned plotters betook themselves to Empress and 
 Archduchess, bewailed the desperate condition of the Em- 
 pire, implored them to ask frequent counsel of Heaven, and 
 directed them to the ghostly aid which could best serve all 
 parties. The result was exactly that which was looked for. 
 The Emperor was convinced that Heaven demanded of him 
 the surrender of his throne. In bringing about this re- 
 sult, the Empress (a Sardinian Princess) was less influential 
 and less interested than the clever, intriguing Archduchess 
 Sophia, who is not clear from suspicion of having promoted 
 the revolution itself. The Archduchess is aBavarian Princess,
 
 344 MONABCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 and she has skilfully turned events to the advantage of her 
 House. She ejected her brother-in-law from the throne, and 
 placed thereon her own son. In the early days of her mar- 
 riage with Prince Francis Charles, she was remarkable for 
 her pride and beauty ; exacting homage from all, and making 
 but haughty acknowledgment in return. In these later days, 
 says the author of ' Bilder aus Oestreich,' she may be some- 
 times seen on the Esplanade, at Ischl, — a tall woman, un- 
 steady in gait, her head bent forwards, but with traces of 
 beauty in her face. Near, and generally behind her, walks 
 a meek-looking gentleman, his head inclined on one side, and 
 whom a painter might be well justified in taking as a model 
 for the figure of the St. John Nepomucene. The gentle- 
 man is Prince Francis Charles, and the lady is taking him 
 to church. In ten months, intrigue and anxiety have added 
 ten years to her appearance ; and liberal as she is, there 
 is not more love for her in Ischl, than in the Viennese 
 suburb of Gumpendoi-f. No more official respect is paid her 
 than custom requires ; but for mere popularity she has a 
 contempt. She is not without great qualities, but she has 
 the defects of little minds. One of her faults is want of 
 tact, and rudeness in betraying it. "When the National 
 Guard of Ischl greeted her with a serenade, and began to 
 play as she was engaged in reading a despatch, the Arch- 
 duchess, angry at being thus interrupted, sent word to the 
 musicians, through Count Wurmbrand, that " the band, with 
 its accursed piping and blowing, might go to the devil !" 
 Many other stories are told of lier ; and in the matter of the 
 abdication of Ferdinand, she is felt, if not seen, to be a more 
 prominent character than the Emperor himself. 
 
 Although Ferdinand was told that Heaven willed his re- 
 signation, he had no will, in that direction, of his own. The 
 plot however was admirably managed, and on the 2nd of 
 December, 1848, even Vienna was almost surprised to hear 
 that Ferdinand I. of Austria had ceased to reign. The
 
 FEEDINAND I. OF ATJSTBIA. 345 
 
 ceremony of renunciation of the throne took place in pre- 
 sence of an illustrious assembly, in the coi'onation hall of 
 the Archdukes, at Olmiitz. The scene was not acted through 
 ■w-ith a joyous aspect. Poor Ferdinand, who had no convic- 
 tions of his own at all, protested that he was convinced that 
 the necessity of the times required an Emperor of younger 
 blood and wiser head ! and he whose intellect was so weak 
 as to be a matter for jest to his own subjects, asserted that 
 he had been "repeatedly convinced" that his nephew Fran- 
 cis Joseph, then eighteen years of age, had come to the 
 maturity of his intellect ; — which, indeed, after-events have 
 shown to be true, for the new Imperial intellect has nqt im- 
 proved since the day Ferdinand pronounced it " mature." 
 Francis Joseph, too, had his conA-ictions. He was convinced, 
 he said, of the necessity and value of free institutions ; and 
 he solemnly declared that he would rule on a compound 
 basis, — the basis of liberty, — of equality of all citizens, 
 whatever their creed, before the law, — and of the right of 
 each citizen to equally partake in the representation and 
 legislation of the country. He has deliberately, wilfully, 
 and wickedly broken his sacredly pledged word to all parties, 
 — not only to his people, but to his allies ; and the youngest 
 of Caesars stands forth before the world, the most obnoxious 
 to a charge of shameless mendacity. 
 
 But the outgoing Emperor was not inferior to his nephew 
 and successor on the day of abdication. When Ferdinand 
 laid down the sceptre, he declared that he did so " from 
 calm and sincere conviction, unswayed by any influence 
 whatever!" But these were A\Titten words, to which he 
 subscribed his signature, perhaps without examination. That 
 he knew the force of the document and the consequence of 
 his own deed, is clear enough from his own unprompted re- 
 mark to his Imperial nephew, after the ceremony : " I have 
 been surprised and taken unawares ; but since it is for your 
 sake, I have made renunciation with goodwill." 
 
 q3
 
 346 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 Dr. Vehse asserts, in bis ' Geschiclite des Oestreichischen 
 Hofs uud Adels,' tbat tlie termination of liis presumed 
 burden of government was a true deliverance for Ferdi- 
 nand. " He now resides at Prague," adds the doctor, "where 
 he has more money than he ever had before, invites many 
 ladies to dinner, and is much happier than in the olden 
 time." As a vir idoneus puellis, or " a lady's man," as Mr. 
 E-iley cleverly translates the well-known phrase, Ferdinand 
 has never made himself acceptable by his wit. Many a story 
 was told of him in this respect, when he was nominally 
 Emperor, in Yienua. The simple-minded Ferdinand, it was 
 said at every ball, put regularly the same question to the 
 Princess Lory Schwartzenberg, — if she had got her cloak 
 with her for going home in ? Just as regularly he was ac- 
 customed to ask the Princess Bertha Lobkowitz, whether 
 she remembered the great storm to which they had both 
 been exposed some years before. "Whether this was a storm 
 in which he played the ^Eneas to the Bohemian Dido, is not 
 worth inquiring ; but the wit cited is very like those speci- 
 mens of Imperial humour given by Suetonius, and which 
 afford so miserable an idea of the wit of the Caesars. Such 
 as it was, Ferdinand was the true heir and possessor of the 
 Imperial prerogative to make indifferent jokes. 
 
 "With the Emperor abdicated, so to speak, the Archduchess 
 Sophia. She had deposed Ferdinand, had induced his weak 
 brother, her husband, to renounce his right of succession, 
 and had placed her son on the throne. Her part was played 
 out when Ferdinand retired into privacy at Prague. " Her 
 motherly ambition," says the admiring author of the ' Bilder 
 aus Oestreich,' "is satisfied, and she has withdrawn exhausted 
 from her gigantic labour, to enjoy in rest and peace the in- 
 gratitude of the world. She is still popularly looked upon 
 as the brewer of storms. To her diplomatic art will be 
 ascribed the tempests and shipwreck by which Austria is 
 threatened. "Were she to die now, people would say it was
 
 FERDINAND I. OF ATJSTEIA. 347 
 
 a mere report got up between tlie Court and the police. 
 ' She lives,' they would say ; ' she has shut herself up in a 
 cloister, where she is engaged in making Ligorian nets, and 
 fabricating eternal darkness.' " However this may be, one 
 thing is certain, namely, that numerous as are the ladies 
 who give life to the otherwise dull household of the fallen 
 Caesar at Prague, the triumphant Archduchess is not among 
 those who find welcome at the Hradschiu. Terdinaud is 
 not likely to forget that she it was who most iteratively 
 hissed into his ear the query, like that singular-sounding 
 one in Br'itannicus : — 
 
 " Prince, que tardez-vous ? Partez en diligence .'"
 
 348 
 
 |0|cmia. 
 
 THE "WINTER KING. 
 
 " Well did he write, and mickle did he know, 
 Who said, ' This world's felicity is woe, 
 Which greatest states can hardly undergo.' " — Hetwood : 
 Downfall of Rohert, JEarl of Huntingdon. 
 
 In connection with Austria, some brief notice may be made 
 of the crowns of Bohemia and Hungary, and especially, but 
 still briefly, of those who lost their crowns. The old coun- 
 try of the Celtic Boii had been governed by Dukes of the 
 invading Slavonic race, from a.d. 550 to a.d. 1061, when 
 in the latter year the title of King was conferred on Duke 
 Wratislaus by the Emperor, Henry IV. The Bohemian Kings 
 were vassals of the Empire ; but they at length refused to 
 do homage to the Emperor for the crown held by Tight of 
 popular election. This refusal caused King Ottoacre to be 
 attacked by the Emperor Rudolph with success in 1281 ; 
 but it was not till 1648 that the crown of Bohemia was 
 secured to the Austrian family by treaty. 
 
 Of the Kings who meanwhile were of more than ordinary 
 renown for good or evil, the chief were the good Wences- 
 laus III., and the as evil Wenceslaus IV., who was deposed 
 and slain for his vices, a.d. 1305. Forty-one years later, 
 John, th e blind King of Bohemia, who was Count of Lux-
 
 THE WINTER KING. 349 
 
 emburg at tte period of his election, fell fighting against 
 the English at Crecy. Seventy years subsequently, the Em- 
 peror Sigismund, the betrayer of Huss and Jerome, lost the 
 Bohemian crown, and the Imperialists were driven from the 
 kingdom. During more than a century, the crown was 
 worn by Austriaus or Poles. In 1527, the Emperor Ferdi- 
 nand I. married Anne, daughter of Louis, the late King, 
 and thus obtained the crown. The intolerance of his name- 
 sake, Ferdinand II., drove the Bohemians to rebellion ; and 
 as these had never surrendered their claim to elect their 
 ovra. King, they made choice of Frederick, Prince Palatine 
 of the Rhine, and husband of the Princess Elizabeth, daugh- 
 ter of our James I., a.d. 1620. 
 
 Frederick had been married two years when the crown 
 was thus offered to him. He was a young man of mild 
 manners and weak judgment ; was more gifted in languages 
 than any other science, knew little or nothing of the art of 
 war, was a rigid Calvinist, and believed in astrology. He felt 
 great reluctance to accept the crown ; but his consort urged 
 on him that it was his duty to make her the wife, as she was 
 the daughter, of a King; and she added that, for her part, 
 she would rather starve under a crown, than be rich be- 
 neath an Electoral hat. On the other hand. King James 
 supported the " divine right" of Ferdinand ; and his Danish 
 Queen laughed at the ambition of " Goody Palsgrave," her 
 daughter. 
 
 Frederick, at length, signed his acceptance of the crown, 
 but he did so with tears in his eyes, and with heavy fore- 
 bodings of evil to come. Nevertheless he was vain of his 
 position, titles, and privileges, and his entry into Prague 
 cost the impoverished city fifty thousand florins in congra- 
 tulatory festivals. During the few months of his reign, he 
 was childishly pleased in making progresses from town to 
 town, in order to see repeated the ceremonies of greeting 
 him as King, and to enjoy the festival by which those occa-
 
 350 MONAECHS KETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 sions were illustrated. This proceeding showed the infir- 
 mity of his character. His despoiling the churches of their 
 best pictures, and bringing them to the capital, exhibited 
 his avarice. The gallant Bohemians had evidently made a 
 mistake in electing their monarch. They hated " King 
 Stork" at Vienna, and they began to despise "King Log" 
 whom they had with them in Prague. 
 
 But they had to defend him and themselves. Tilly and 
 the Duke of Bavaria, at the head of Imperialists and Bava- 
 rian troops, were approaching, to recover the kingdom for 
 the Emperor. The Bohemians entrenched themselves on 
 the " White Mountain," near Prague. The day was the 
 8th of November, 1620. While the battle was being fought 
 the churches were open, and in one of them, Frederick heard 
 read the Gospel which contains the injunction to " give unto 
 Cgesar the things that are Caesar's." To a superstitious man 
 this must have been at once startling and depressing. 
 
 The battle was adverse to the Bohemians. Their rout 
 was complete. Little, but bravery, had been provided for a 
 victory, nothing was prepared to soften a defeat. There was 
 no " rally." The Bohemians were scattered in all direc- 
 tions ; and the helpless Frederick asked for four-and-twenty 
 hours, for consideration. The Duke granted him eight.- Be 
 fore they had elapsed, the " Winter King " was flying in aU 
 haste, and hardly knowing whither. 
 
 He had offended the Bohemians by sending away his son 
 and heir before the battle, and he gained their contempt by 
 his precipitate and undignified retreat. So precipitate was 
 it, that he lost his decoration of the Garter, as he hurried 
 along. The Imperialists, since their weapons could not 
 reach him, assailed him with their wit. A Hue and Cry, 
 from their hand, was posted on the gates of Prague. It pro- 
 mised, " that a great reward would be bestowed on any one 
 who could give any tidings or iuteDigence of a certain run- 
 away monarch, in the flower of his youth, of a complexion
 
 THE WINTER KING. 351 
 
 inclining to the florid, diminutive in stature, with a beard 
 entirely juvenile, and eyes squinting a little ; of himself, a 
 well-conditioned and worthy young man, but seduced by 
 evil-minded and seditious advisers." Harte says that this 
 was the first Hue and Cry after a King that he remembered 
 to have met with in ancient or modern history. 
 
 And yet there were many persons in the Palatinate who 
 loved him even after his fall. In his hereditary dominions, 
 Frederick was long affectionately remembered for his mild- 
 ness and justice. "Eriend," said a Spaniard to an inhabi- 
 tant of the Palatinate, into which the Spaniards had pene- 
 trated, " what makes you adhere so pertinaciously to an 
 exiled and nominal sovereign ?" "Just for this reason," 
 was the reply, " that when Frederick presided over us, he 
 raised fewer taxes in a year than you extort from us in the 
 space of a month ;" — and a very excellent reason it was. 
 
 Frederick reigned scarcely one " season," — a cii'cumstance 
 which gained for him the title of " "Winter King." He had 
 the honour of opening (by proxy) the Thirty Tears' "War ; 
 and then became a poor fugitive. Ferdinand placed him 
 under the ban of the Empire. His electoral dignity was 
 transferred to Bavaria, in 1622 ; and, more grievous still, 
 his famous library, rich in manuscript and printed works, 
 was cai-ried from Heidelberg to the Vatican. 
 
 The ex-King found an asylum, now in Silesia, now in 
 Brandenburg, subsequently in Holland. He and his family 
 were frequently reduced to great straits, and many an empty 
 project did he form for the maintenance of a suitable dig- 
 nity. This was only indifferently maintained upon a pen- 
 sion from Holland of 10,000 guilders : it was hardly the 
 pay of a respectable head clerk in a Dutch counting-house. 
 
 Tears wore on while Frederick, by various aids, kept 
 modest house in Holland. He hunted, fished, looked fever- 
 ishly towards Gei-many and Gustavus Adolphus, lived the 
 life of a country gentleman, and saw his family increase to 
 the number of thirteen.
 
 352 MONABcns retired from busikess. 
 
 Gustavus Adolphus was the champion of the Protestant 
 cause, Christian of Brunswick was the especial champion of 
 Elizabeth ; but by neither champion, gallant as was each, 
 was cause or Queen triumphant. 
 
 Frederick was not used to triumphs. He had seen three 
 armies lost in three battles within nine weeks. He had stood 
 by the side of Mansfeldt, who could not however carry him 
 back to Prague, and he dismissed an army, thinking to con- 
 ciliate the Emperor. When disarmed, he was only the more 
 hotly persecuted by his enemies. 
 
 His chief dexterity was exhibited in passing in disguise 
 through hostile countries, to the head-quarters of the Pro- 
 testant champions, and in returning also in disguise to his 
 home in Holland ; — a home made additionally sad to him in 
 1629, by the loss of a son. Father and child were together 
 in a packet-boat which was run down by another vessel, 
 Frederick saved himself by swimming ; and, strong swimmer 
 as he was, his boy perished in his sight, and screaming to 
 him for succour. 
 
 When the victories of Gustavus Adolphus augured well 
 for the dearest objects of the Winter King, the latter joined 
 the head-quarters of the glorious Swede. Together they 
 passed in triumph into capitals whose lords were hostile to 
 their cause ; and in these localities they behaved rather as 
 benefactors than as enraged conquerors. But the splendid 
 achievements of Gustavus brought Frederick no nearer 
 either to his throne or liis Palatinate. The hopes of the 
 Winter King were altogether blasted when the great Gus- 
 tavus fell at Llitzen, in 1032. This catastroplie killed the 
 poor ex-King of Bohemia : his heart-strings snapped at the 
 intelligence, and he survived Gustavus only a few weeks. 
 
 The Peace of Westphalia restored the Palatinate to his 
 family, in the person of his son, Charles Louis. His gra7idson, 
 George I., son of his daughter Sophia, succeeded to a more 
 glorious throne than that of the Winter King. His consort,
 
 THE WIIfTEIl KING. 353 
 
 Elizabeth, the ex-Queen of Bohemia, ultimately found a 
 home, perhaps a husband, at Hampstead Marshall, built 
 expressly for her reception by Sir William, first Earl of 
 Craven, — a man who served her with as much aff'ectionate 
 fidelity as Christian of Brunswick. The ex-Queeu died in 
 Leicester House, in the north-east corner of Leicester 
 Square, when her nephew, Charles II., reigned in England. 
 "She seems a very debonair but a plain lady," writes 
 Pepys, when he went to kiss the ex-Queen's hand, on her ar- 
 rival in England, in May, 1660. The throneless lady often 
 attended the theatrical representations of the day. AVhen 
 Davenant's comedy of ' The Wits ' was played, in 1661, 
 Pepys makes the record that " the Queen of Bohemia was 
 here brought by my Lord Craven ;" and on the 13th of Fe- 
 bruary of the following year, the very concise entry that 
 "last night died the Queeue of Bohemia," shows that she 
 survived the loss of her crown more than forty, and that of 
 her husband nearly thirty years. Leicester House had been 
 to her a less splendid but a more trancpil home than that 
 she had had, for a not much briefer period, in the Hradschin, 
 overlooking Prague.
 
 354 
 
 THE FOUR DEPOSED KINGS OE HUNGARY. 
 
 " Ooddioyn. Whatte wouldest thou wytlie the Kynge ? 
 Sarolde. Take offe liis crowne ; 
 
 The ruler of somme mynster hym ordeyne, 
 
 And sette uppe dygaer than I han pyghte downe." 
 
 CHATTEKTOIf. 
 
 Down to the fourth century of the Christian era, the Romans 
 ruled in ancient Pannonia. They were driven out by the 
 Vandals, who, themselves migrating, made way for the Groths, 
 and these, in their turn were ejected by Attilaand his Huns, 
 in the fifth century. Hungary formed a portion of the Grer- 
 man Empire, imder Charlemagne, but it secured its inde- 
 pendence in the tenth century (997). Stephen, Duke of 
 Hungary, having established the E-oman Catholic religion, 
 the Pope conferred on him the title of " Apostolic King," 
 which is still borne by the Emperors of Austria, as sovereigns 
 of Hungary. 
 
 During four centuries, from the accession of Stephen, this 
 fine but unhappy country was subject to many calamities, 
 not the least of which were the devastations committed by 
 Poles, Tartars, German Emperors, or its own Kings. The 
 national misery was at its highest in 1382, when King Mary, 
 as her title ran, married Sigismund, Marquis of Branden- 
 burg (who subsequently became King of Bohemia and Em- 
 peror of Germany). The tyranny of these sovereigns drove 
 the Hungarians to seek assistance from the Turks ; and these 
 allies became as oppressive as if they were foes. Eor three 
 centuries (during which time the elective throne had passed
 
 DEPOSED KINGS OF HUNGARY. 355 
 
 into the power of Poland, and in 1437 to Albert of Austria, 
 who thereby laid the foundations of the power of his House) 
 the kingdom was exposed to war and other miseries. The 
 great Bajazet vanquished Sigismund in 1389 ; and the issue 
 of the battle of Mohacz, in 1526, seemed to place Hungary 
 at the mercy of Solyman II. Buda, Slavonia, Temeswar, 
 Transylvania, successively fell into their power ; and it was 
 not till the Duke of Lorraine carried Buda by storm in 
 168G, and Prince Eugene recovered Temeswar, in 1716, that 
 the Turkish power in Hungary was seriously shaken. 
 
 In the year 1526, there were two candidates for the 
 throne left vacant by Louis II., who was drowned at the 
 battle of Mohacz. John Zapoyla was elected by the Hun- 
 garians, and supported by Solyman II. ; but his rival Fer- 
 dinand I., Kiug of Bohemia, and brother of Charles V. of 
 Germany, established his claim ; and since that period Hun- 
 gary has been annexed to the Imperial dominions. 
 
 The succession of the Hungarian Kings, from the reign 
 of Stephen to that of Perdinard I., who became Emperor of 
 Germany, stands thus : — 
 
 House oe Aepad. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 997. Stephen, great-grandson of Duke Arpad. 
 1038. Peter I., twice deposed, then blinded. 
 1047. Andrew L, deposed. 
 1061. Bela I., killed by the fall of a tower. 
 1064. Solomon, deposed. 
 1075. Geisa I. 
 1077. Ladislaus the Pious. 
 1095. Coloman. 
 
 1114. Stephen II., surnamed " Thunder," died a monk. 
 1131. Bela II., the blind King. 
 
 114L Geisa IL 1174. Bela III. 1205. Andrew IL 
 
 1161. Stephen III., 1196. Emeric. 1235. Bela IV. 
 
 poisoned. 1204. Ladislaus II. 1270. Stephen IV.
 
 356 MONARCHS EETIRET) FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 1272. Ladislaus III., murdered. 
 
 1290. Audi-ew III., the Venetian, son of Stephen IV. and 
 a Venetian lady ; poisoned. 
 
 Anjou, Luxemburg, and Austria. 
 
 1309. Charles Robert, son of Mary (daughter of Stephen 
 IV.) and Charles, Prince of Salerno (son of Charles 
 of Anjou). 
 
 1342. Louis the Great, his son. 
 
 1382. Mary, daughter of Louis. 
 
 1392. Mary and her husband Sigismund. 
 
 1437. Albert of Austria (their son-in-law), and Elizabeth. 
 
 1440. Vladislaus I., also King A-^ladislaus VI. of Poland. 
 
 1444. Interregnum ; period of Huniades and Corvinus. 
 
 1453. Ladislaus IV., posthumous son of Albert ; poisoned. 
 
 1457. Matthias Corvinus, son of Huniades, late regent. 
 
 1490. Vladislaus II., also King of Bohemia. 
 
 1516. Louis II. (I. of Bohemia), drowned. 
 
 1527. Ferdinand of Austria, husband of Anna, sister of the 
 late King. 
 From this period the succession may be seen under the 
 
 Empire. 
 
 The first deposed monarch of the Hungarians was Peter, 
 the nephew of Stephen, who was called " the German," 
 chiefly because he employed Germans in all the high offices 
 of the kingdom. This led to an insurrection, which carried 
 a Stephen Aba temporarily to the throne. Aba forthwith 
 began by ameliorating the condition of the peasants ; but 
 this gave such oifence to the nobles, who had no idea of 
 liberty for anybody, and wanted only "license" for them- 
 selves, that they invoked the fatal aid of Austria. Peter, 
 after a dethronement of three years, was restored, and Aba 
 was got rid of by assassination. 
 
 The nobles however failed to find under Peter the
 
 DEPOSED KINGS OF HUKGART. 357 
 
 " license" wLicli fhey required. The restored monarch de- 
 clared his intention of holding his kingdom as a fief of the 
 Empire, and he even sent a crown and lance to the Emperor 
 in token of subjection. Exasperated by this, and also by 
 Peter's renewed patronage of Germans, to the exclusion of 
 Hungarians, they now not only deposed, but imprisoned 
 him. They shut him up in the gloomy fortress of Stuhl- 
 weissenburg ; here his eyes were put out, and in this prison 
 he passed the remainder of a miserable existence. 
 
 Peter's cousin, Andrew, was raised to the throne on con- 
 ditions which he entirely disregarded. The blind captive 
 Peter could hear from his cell the rejoicing shouts which 
 hailed the crowning of his successor. In the same fortress 
 where the one lost his eyes, and was immured in darkness, 
 the other gained a crown, and grasped a sceptre, which he 
 used as a weapon to strike down liberty. 
 
 Andrew lost what he had thus gained and grasped. His 
 tyranny drove his subjects to rebellion ; but it was a family 
 quarrel which finally cost him his throne. He had asso- 
 ciated his brother Bela with him, as governor, with the 
 title of Duke (and promise of the succession) over a third 
 of the kingdom. Andrew however became father of a son, 
 Solomon, whom he caiised to be recognized as his successor. 
 The King nevertheless evinced his continual jealousy of 
 Bela, whom he at length summoned to his presence. Bela 
 found Andrew on a couch ; at his feet lay a crown and a 
 sword. The elder addressed the younger brother. Andrew 
 acknowledged that the inheritance of the crown belonged 
 to Bela, but that the interests of the kingdom demanded 
 that the young Solomon shovdd succeed. " Notwithstand- 
 ing this," said Andrew, "I leave the decision to yourself. 
 If you wovild be King, take up the crown that is at my 
 feet ; if you prefer to remain Duke, take up the sword." 
 Bela had been privately instructed that if he chose the 
 crown, his life would be forfeited. He accordingly took up
 
 358 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS, 
 
 tlie SM'ord, and retired, with a determination therewith to 
 cut his way to the throne. In the insurrection which en- 
 sued, Andrew was deposed and slain. The unsceptred mon- 
 arch fell in a great battle near the Theiss ; and Bela occu- 
 pied his vacant seat. It is probable that the new King 
 himself was got rid of by the partisans of Solomon, and 
 the friends of paganism. The one could not forgive him 
 his usurpation ; the other could not pardon him for abolish- 
 ing the old forms of religion, to which the Hungarian nobles 
 clung with great tenacity. Bela was one day sitting in 
 judgment, as was his custom, when the building suddenly 
 fell upon him, and he was buried in the ruins. Nothing 
 more is said of the catastrophe, in which there must have 
 been many participators ; but as it was followed by the 
 accession of Solomon, we may conjecture that there was in 
 it less of accident than design. 
 
 Solomon was deposed, at the end of a reign of eleven years, 
 chiefly on the ground that he had engaged to hold Hungary 
 as a fief of the Empire, and to place six of the fortified towns 
 in the possession of the Emperor, as a guarantee of his good 
 faith. The fate of this deposed monarch belongs to the region 
 of romance. The Pope adopted the cause of Solomon, on hear- 
 ing that Ladislaus, the successor of Greisa, by whom Solomon 
 had been dethroned and banished, had given refuge to that 
 Boleslaus H. of Poland, who had killed a bishop at the altar. 
 The course of events, however, placed Solomon in the power 
 of Ladislaus, who confined the deposed King in the fortress 
 of Visegrad, near Waitzen. Erom this prison Solomon was 
 freed, in honour of the canonization of King Stephen, by 
 Pope Grregory. He could not, however, be happy with sim- 
 ple freedom and a fixed revenue. Solomon attempted to 
 regain his lost crown, but the fortune of battle drove him 
 across the Danube. In an attempt to make his way through 
 a thick forest, he became separated from his followers, and 
 was never again seen of man, or even heard of.
 
 DEPOSED KINGS OF HUNGAET. 359 
 
 Soon after this period, however, a pilgrim was observed 
 constantly at the shrine of the canonized King, St. Stephen. 
 His face was ever concealed, his garb was of the humblest, 
 and there was a corresponding humility in all his actions. 
 The solitary man only left the shrine to repair to a remote 
 cell, where he spent his remaining days as a hermit. As 
 people looked on this mysterious being at the shrine of the 
 royal Saint, or passed by the rude hermitage, within which 
 he might be seen at prayer, some whispered to the others, 
 '' There kneels one whom men once knelt to ; the meek man 
 there was once the fierce Solomon who wore St. Stephen's 
 crown." 
 
 Meanwhile the Hungarians rejoiced that he wore it no 
 longer, and that it had been transferred to Ladislaus. The 
 excellence of this latter King is shown in the fact that when 
 he died, the kingdom went into mourning for him, for the 
 space of three years. In wisdom, however, he w^as exceeded 
 by his son Coloman. In the twelfth century this enlightened 
 monarch -forbade the persecution of persons described as 
 ' witches,' on the ground, he said, that there were no such 
 pei'sons ; and that supernatural powers belonged to the Di- 
 vinity alone. When we reflect that, according to the esti- 
 mate of Barrington, 30,000 witches were executed wdthin 
 two hundred years, in Euglaud ; that 3000 were executed 
 under the Long Parliament ; that Sir Matthew Hale burnt 
 two persons as ' witches ;' that several suffered at the stake 
 during the last century, under a similar accusation, and that 
 the sanguinary English laws against the so-called witchcraft 
 were not repealed till 1736, we may feel a little ashamed at 
 the enlightenment of King Coloman, who reigned in a ' bar- 
 barous ' country, in ' barbarous ' times. 
 
 There is an incident connected with Coloman' s successor, 
 " Stephen Thunder," which deserves to be noticed. The gay 
 and noisy court of Stephen was the refuge of every King 
 iu Europe who happeaed to be in difficulties, and of every
 
 360 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 " Prinz Schnapps " who was suffering the consequences of 
 having pledged his honour, and who had forgotten to redeem, 
 his pledge. To restore a worthless Kussian Prince to his 
 place of power, Stephen led an army into Eussia, and sa- 
 crificed nearly the whole of it, in a vain attempt to reduce 
 Vladimir. Stephen ordered a last assault, but the reply of 
 the chief Magyars shows the spirit which animated those 
 troublesome subjects : — " The city cannot be taken but at 
 enormous cost of our blood ; and it could not be kept, if it 
 were taken. If you want it, take it yourself; we will not 
 assist you ; and let us tell you, that if you prefer these 
 foreign expeditions to quietly governing your own country, 
 we will return home, elect another sovereign, and declare 
 you to be deposed." 
 
 This speech was so clear and circumstantial, that Stephen 
 put away his own "Thunder," and reigned meekly as long 
 as he had power even to do as much as that. Infirmity 
 however overtook him, and he made it his excuse for assu- 
 ming the habit of a monk, under which character he died, in 
 the year 1131. 
 
 If Steplien saved himself from deposition by his docility, 
 Emeric, some years after, gained the same end by his courage. 
 His brother, Andrew, was at the head of a large force, in- 
 tent upon dethroning him. The friends of Emeric, deeming 
 his cause lost, advised him to fly. Emeric, on the contrary, 
 stripped oft' his armour, laid aside his sword and lance, and 
 placing the crown on his head, walked alone to the camp of 
 the insurgents, and demanded if there was any one there 
 who dared to dip his hand in the blood of their King. 
 They to whom he spoke, shrank back from him. Unmo- 
 lested, he went to the tent of Andrew, and with his own hand 
 led him away a prisoner. By this bold act, the rashness of 
 which finds apology in the result, Emeric saved himself from 
 deposition. 
 
 In England, an insult offered to a young maiden once
 
 DEPOSED KINGS OE HUNaAET. 361 
 
 nearly cost the King his crown ; a similar insult nearly led 
 to the deposition of Charles, the first Hungarian King, of 
 the House of Anjou. This King had, for his third wife, 
 Elizabeth, sister of Casimir of Poland. Casimir escorted his 
 queenly sister to Hungary ; and at her court there, once 
 grossly insulted a beautiful maid-of-honour, daughter of the 
 magnate Pelician Zacs. The latter, hearing of the wrong 
 done to his child, rushed to the palace with a drawn sword, 
 and followed by an infuriated crowd. Felician sought every- 
 where for Casimir, and grew the more enraged as his search 
 was unsuccessful. In his ungovernable fury, he encountered 
 the Queen herself, and, with one sweep of his sabre, he cut off 
 four fingers of her right hand. He then assailed the King; 
 but by this time the friends of the latter had assembled; the 
 growing insurrection was bloodily suppressed, and Felician 
 was captured. The vengeance inflicted on the latter and on 
 his innocent family was fearful. The defender, or avenger 
 rather, of his daughter's honour was cut to pieces, by execu- 
 tioners ; his son was dragged to death at a horse's tail ; his 
 injured daughter was paraded through the capital, with her 
 nose, fingers, and lips cut off; a second daughter was beheaded, 
 and her husband was starved to death. The remainder of 
 the family was banished or reduced to serfdom. In such- 
 wise did Charles Robert, whose general humanity is often 
 eulogized, take vengeance upon a father rendered mad by an 
 outrage offered to his child. 
 
 One more incident, more closely connected with the sub- 
 ject of deposition, must close this section. It refers to the 
 reign of Mary, granddaughter of Charles Eobert. The Hun- 
 garians disliked being governed by a young female "King," 
 and they had little love for her youthful husband, Sigismund, 
 of Bohemia. They consequently favoured the attempt of 
 Charles of Naples to gain the crown, and even elected him 
 King of Hungary. His brief teniire of authority is known 
 as that of Charles the Little. After this election, he found 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 362 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BTTSITS^ESS. 
 
 himself powerful enough to compel Mary to consent to pro- 
 nounce her own abdication. It was only with reluctance, 
 and under the influence of the old Queen, Elizabeth, that 
 Mary coidd be brought to consent to this step, in the ab- 
 sence of Sigismimd, who had fled to Bohemia. At length, 
 she formally stated that the burden of government was too 
 heavy for her, and that she was willing to resign the crown. 
 Charles, in return, declared that he looked upon Mary as 
 his sister, and Elizabeth, as his mother. He insisted on 
 the presence of both these royal ladies at his coronation, in. 
 Stuhlweissenburg. "The imprudence of this step," we are 
 told by an anonymous author, " was soon manifest. The 
 ungenerous conduct of the new King appeared the more 
 glaring, beside the beauty and patient en durance of Mary. 
 The hearts of the people were touched ; and when, during 
 the ceremony of the coronation, the Queens prostrated them- 
 selves, in tears, on the grave of King Louis, the nobles re- 
 pented having abandoned them for a foreign monarch. Fatal 
 omens attended the accession of Charles : the banner of St. 
 Stephen was rent as he left the church ; and, a few days 
 later, a storm and earthquake destroyed part of the palace." 
 
 Elizabeth was a strong-minded woman, and her observation 
 was as acute as her intellect was strong. She profited by the 
 desire she had detected in the nobles, to recover the throne 
 for Mary. In her presence, one of her attendants felled 
 the usurper wdth a blow^, which failed to kill him. His 
 person, however, was in her power, and, flinging him into a 
 dungeon, she declared him deposed, and ordered him to be 
 strangled. Mary, by this stringent process, recovered her 
 throne. 
 
 The government of the native princes of Hungary presents 
 examples enough of insurrection against it, but no more in- 
 cidents that can fairly come within the scope of this "Work. 
 That native government ceased with the accession of Ferdi- 
 nand I., the first of the regular line of the House of Haps-
 
 DEPOSED KINGS OE HUKGABT. 363 
 
 burg. Since that period tlie struggle lias been between 
 foreign despotism and the friends of constitutional monarchy. 
 In this struggle Austria has been hitherto the victor, but 
 at a terrible cost, and leaving the final issue deferred rather 
 than decided. 
 
 b2
 
 364 
 
 airitria. 
 
 LUDWIG, THE LOVER." 
 
 'And Kings in wit may want discerning spirit." — Pope. 
 
 The Royal family of Bavaria are Guelphs and Saxons by 
 descent. The first Duke of Bavaria was Henry Guelph, 
 who was raised to that dignity by the Emperor Conrad II,, 
 in 1024. The Electorship was first conferred on the Great 
 Duke Maximilian, in 1597. The Ducal Line gave, as elected 
 Emperors, to Germany, Louis TV., in 1314, and Charles 
 (VII.) Albert, in 1742. The last of the Ducal Line was the 
 simple-minded Duke and Elector, Maximilian Joseph, who 
 in 1805, six years after he had succeeded as Duke, was named 
 King of Bavaria, by the Emperor Napoleon. 
 
 Maximilian Joseph reigned twenty years, and was suc- 
 ceeded, in 1825, by Louis I., a poet- King, who, in his leisure 
 hours, not only wrote verses, but printed them. 
 
 "Ludwig," as he is more familiarly known in Germany, 
 was born in 1786, the year in which the great Frederick 
 died. His mother, Caroline of Baden, was a Protestant, and 
 remained so after her marriage. Her sister, Louisa, married 
 tlie Czar Alexander I., and changed her religion for a crown, 
 only to meet with misery and disappomtment. 
 
 The maternal influence had much to do with the education 
 of Ludwig. It taught him, at least, to be bitterly hostile
 
 LUDWia, THE LOTEE. 365 
 
 towards France. Ludwig married, in 1810, Theresa of Hild- 
 burghausen, a plain but exemplary Princess, whom he treated 
 with shameless infidelity. Ludwig himself had no personal 
 beauty to boast of. Nostitz described him, in his eight-and- 
 twentieth year, as having a mouth without teeth, and a face 
 without expression. 
 
 Ludwig, at his accession, in 1825, found his capital, Mu- 
 nich, a quiet, moral, somewhat dull, and unattractive city. 
 He recalled the monks, restored them their property, be- 
 came the patron of artists, added a city of palaces to the new 
 city, restored all that was worth restoration in the old, and 
 rendered Munich, by his example, one of the most immoral 
 cities in Europe. At sixty years of age he openly took under 
 his protection the notorious woman, Lola Montes. He 
 created her Countess of Landsfeldt, and insulted his wife by 
 intimating his intention to have this Countess presented 
 to her, at Court. To this outrage, however, the Queen, who 
 had endured in her presence many other favourites of the 
 King, woidd not submit. The foolish old man consoled 
 himself by submitting, in his turn, to the ridiculous pre- 
 tensions of Lola. The whole capital burst forth into an 
 expression of its indignation. Their hatred of the dancing- 
 woman was only equalled in intensity by their contempt for 
 the King. 
 
 Lola took advantage of poHtical difficulties, and sought to 
 gain partisans by intriguing against the Jesuit party, up- 
 liolding the Liberals, and advocating the cause of the Protes- 
 tants. But the Jesuits disregarded her, the Liberals would 
 not accept her co-operation, and Protestantism declined to 
 take the proffered arm, and walk with such a woman in the 
 face of day. 
 
 All parties detested her ; but after all, it is thought that 
 her fall would not have been so speedy and so sure, but for 
 the ladies of the Court, who looked on her as an inter- 
 loper, and felt a special interest in seeing Bavaria rid of a
 
 8G6 MONAECHS BETIBED TKOM BUSINESS. 
 
 woman who could attract the admiration of their wicked old 
 monarch. 
 
 It was difficult of achievement. The influence of Lola was 
 equal to her impudence. On one occasion, we are told by 
 Vehse, that, as the King lay ill, and the Queen came to visit 
 her sick husband, Lola fastened the chamber-door, and pre- 
 vented the approach of the royal consort to the bedside of 
 this sample of the lion in love. 
 
 The degradation through which this woman dragged her 
 royal lover is inconceivable. There was scarcely a folly 
 which he did not commit at her bidding. Tor her sake, all 
 order of government, rule of police, and social regulations 
 were overturned. She insulted the noblest in the land, and 
 she was herself insulted and howled at in the streets, by the 
 lowest of the people. She defied such outrage against herself, 
 and showed that she could use her bauds aud whip as vigor- 
 ously as she could her tongue. A multitude surrounded 
 the palace, and angrily demanded her dismissal. Ludwig's 
 daughter-in-law went on her knees and, with tears and 
 prayers, besought the wretched simpleton to " send the lady 
 away,' ' Ludwig " sighed like furnace," and, in a copy of ardent 
 verses, declared that life without the lady was intolerable. 
 
 The mob repaired to the lady's superb maisonnette in the 
 Barer Strasse, and threatened to pull it to the ground. 
 When the tumult was at its highest, the King arrived, ac- 
 companied by a single officer. He was unassailed by any- 
 thing bu.t rough truths : with these he was well pelted as he 
 entered the house. The mistress thereof appeared in the 
 balcony, carrying a knife ; she flung a dog among the crowd, 
 and is even said to have thrust her tongue in her cheek at the 
 people, who behaved with wonderful patience till Ludwig 
 took his departure, but then their rage knew no bounds. 
 They were assured that the King had spoken to her for 
 the last time, but they seemed determined upon having 
 her life. In the midst of the tumult she dashed through
 
 LUDWIG, THE LOVEH. 367 
 
 the crowd in a carriage, and was hotly pursued by that part 
 of the mob not engaged in the destruction of her house. 
 She had the shamelessness to drive to the royal palace ; but 
 she was repulsed by the sentinels, and she passed the night 
 in a suburb of the city. On the following day Lola appeared 
 in the streets in male attire ; but she found it impossible to 
 renew the attack on the sexagenarian heart of the poet-King. 
 She was compelled to leave the kingdom ; but she carried 
 with her some royal spoil, and withdrawing to Switzerland, 
 she found there an English friend, younger than Ijudwig, but 
 twice as foolish. 
 
 The wretched woman dragged with her, in her fall, the 
 wretched King. The position of LudM'ig had become what 
 is called "impossible." Overcome by shame and vexation, 
 he suddenly abdicated, in 1848, in time to prevent worse 
 consequences ; and withdrew to Aschaffenburg. Since that 
 time, he has lived a better life and written worse verses. As 
 a private individual, he has become one of the most amiable 
 of men. He occasionally appears at the Court of his son, 
 the reigning King Maximilian II. ; and there his presence is 
 marked by so much that is pleasant, intellectual, and gene- 
 rally delightful, that he is treated with a consideration which 
 almost throws his successor altogether in the shade. 
 
 His happiest hours, however, are those which he passes at 
 his palace of Ludwigshohe, in the Palatinate. Among the 
 memorials of the past there collected, the most cherished is 
 not a memorial of his royal time, but one of his infancy 
 when his father, then only Prince of Zweibriicken, was the 
 commander of an Alsatian regiment, in the French service, 
 at Salzburg, where Ludwig was born in 1786. In honour 
 of his birth, the soldiers of his father's regiment presented 
 the infant with a velvet-covered mattress stuffed with their 
 beards and moustaches, which they had cut off for the 
 express purpose. Ludwig calls this a truly military mat- 
 tress ; and on it his uncrowned head often finds rej)Ose.
 
 368 MOKAECHS RETIRED EROM BUSINESS. 
 
 There is something in his downfall which will remind the 
 classical reader of the causes which led to the catastrophe 
 which concluded the reign of Pyrenseus, King of Thrace. 
 One rainy night, the Muses, their hair wet and their robes 
 draggled, arrived at his palace and asked for hospitality. 
 The King took them in, welcomed them to supper, and de- 
 lighted them by his gallantry. But as this began to take a 
 form which was rather startling to the reserved daughters of 
 Mnemosyne — although Terpsichore called her sisters prudes 
 — they spread the wings which they occasionally wore, and 
 took to flight. One or too lingered a little, to be caught 
 alone ; and in pursuit of these, Pyrenseus having put on 
 pinions of his own invention, boldly dashed out of his own 
 window, and the next moment lay, crownless and senseless, 
 on the ground. The fate of Pyrenseus is a poetical render- 
 ing of the more prosaic destiny of Ludwig of Bavaria, who 
 entertained the Muses at a sore cost to his people, and who 
 fell headlong from the tower of j)opular regard, in his ignoble 
 pursuit of Lola Terpsichore. 
 
 THE GEEMAN EMPEROES.* 
 
 The Koman Empire in the West terminated with Augus- 
 tulus, in the year 476. It was restored by the Popes, under 
 the title of the Holy Eoman Empire in the West, in the year 
 800. Although the term German Emperor may not be ap- 
 plicable to all the Sovereigns enumerated below, it is so far 
 so as to indicate the monarchs of what is now understood as 
 the German Empire. 
 
 * The divisions are adapted from Zedler, and also the dates down to 
 the death of Charles VII.
 
 THE GEEMAN EMPEROllS. 
 
 369 
 
 A.D. 
 
 800. Charlemagne. 
 
 814. Louis, the Pious. 
 
 840. Lothaire I. 
 
 855. Louis II. 
 
 875. Charles II., the Bald. 
 
 Saxon Line. 
 
 911. Conrad I. 
 
 918. Henry, the Fowler. 
 . 936. Otho I. 
 
 973. OthoIL 
 
 983. Otho in. 
 1002. Henry 11. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 877. Louis III. 
 
 877. Carloman. 
 
 880. CHAKLEsIII.,theFat. 
 
 887. Arnulphus. 
 
 899. Louis IV. 
 
 Fbanconian Line. 
 1024. Conrad II. 
 1039. Hemy III. 
 1056. Henet IV. 
 1106. Henry V. 
 1125. Lothaire, the Saxon. 
 
 SuABiAN Line. 
 
 1208. (Otho.) 
 1212. Feedeeick IL, de- 
 posed and restored. 
 
 1138. Conrad III. 
 1152. Frederick I. 
 1190. Henry VI. 
 1198. Philip. 
 
 The period which followed was that of the Interregnum, 
 during which time the following were more or less titular 
 Emperors : — 
 
 1250. Henry. 1256. Eichard. 
 
 1250. Conrad IV. 1256. Alphonso X. of Spain. 
 
 1250. WiUiam of HoUand. 1856. Ottocar. 
 
 After the termination of the Interregnum, the following 
 Emperors (of different Houses, Hapsburg, Luxemburg, and 
 Franconia) were elected : — 
 
 1273 Eudolph of Hapsburg. 1308. Henry VII. 
 1292. Adolphus of Nassau. 1314. Louis V., and 
 1298. Albert I. 1314. Frederick of Austria. 
 
 1347. Charles IV. 
 
 1347. Edward III. of England, Frederick the Strong, Grun- 
 ther of Schwarzburg, nominal Emperors. 
 
 e3
 
 370 
 
 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 1378. 
 1400. 
 
 1438. 
 1440. 
 1493. 
 1519. 
 1558. 
 1564. 
 1576. 
 1612. 
 1619. 
 
 1792. 
 1835. 
 
 1818. 
 
 Wenceslaus. 
 Eupert. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 1410. Jodocus, or Jossus. 
 1410. Siffismund. 
 
 House of Austria. 
 
 Albert II. 
 Frederick IV. 
 Maximilian I. 
 Charles V. 
 Ferdinand I. 
 
 1637. Ferdinand III. 
 
 1658. Leopold I. 
 
 1705. Joseph I. 
 
 1711. Charles VI. 
 
 1740. Maria Theresa. 
 Maximilian II. 1742. Charles VII. 
 
 Eodolph 11. 1745. Francis I. 
 
 Matthias. 1765. Joseph II. 
 
 Ferdinand II. 1790. Leopold II. 
 
 Francis II. became Francis I. of Austria, 1804. 
 Ferdinand, abdicated. 
 Francis Joseph.
 
 371 
 
 ah\\)i. 
 
 THE EARLY ABDICATIONS. 
 
 The crown of Poland was the least enviable of the circlets 
 of royalty that ever adorned or tortured the brow of a 
 wearer. The troubles which accompanied it are well illus- 
 trated in stories of more than one Polish King, whose 
 names however have not come down with the legends. How- 
 ever they are happy in their application. Of an unnamed 
 sovereign (Boleslaus II. ?) we are told that he suddenly dis- 
 appeared during the chase, but that he was discovered, some 
 days afterwards, in the market-place of the capital, disguised 
 as a porter, and carrying on that laborious office. He was 
 entreated to return to the vacant throne, but he obstinately 
 refused, declaring at the same time, that he had carried no 
 weight on his shoulders, since he had been porter, half so 
 hea\'y as that which had nearly crushed him while monarch. 
 He had slept more, he added, in four nights, than during all 
 his reign before ; had good health and appetite, no cares, 
 was king of himself, and did not care a doit who was King 
 of Poland. It is said that when search was made for a suc- 
 cessor to this philosophic ex-monarch, one was found only 
 with extreme difficulty. He was elected against his will, 
 reluctantly promised to undertake the kingly office, and 
 when the sceptre was placed in his hand, as he was seated
 
 372 MONARCHS EETIEED TBOM: BUSINESS. 
 
 on the throne, lie groaned forth a declaration that he would 
 sooner " tug at the oar," than occupy such a place. 
 
 Few are the Kings of the Poles who might not have given 
 utterance to the same sentiment, — whether they were of 
 the country, or, as was so often the case after Casimir, ob- 
 tained from foreign lands. It was the boast of the Polish 
 nobility that they held their Kings, and were not holden by 
 them. In the four goodly volumes of the works of Stanislaus 
 Leczinski, King of Poland, — volumes published as those of 
 a "beneficent philosopher," but in which the philosophy is 
 not profound, and the beneficent quality of a very mild and 
 harmless nature, — in those volumes there is one solitary 
 anecdote to be found, which bears upon this question of 
 Kingship, as it was in Poland. A French nobleman re- 
 marked to a young Pole, " Vos Poloni non hahetis regem." 
 " Imo" was the answer of the ready-witted Polander, " nos 
 hahemus regem, sed vos rex Jiahet" — which is a very happy 
 distinction ; but it had very little beneficial effect on the 
 people at large, of either country. 
 
 Till the last year of the tenth century however there was 
 no King in Poland. The earliest rulers appear to have been 
 Dukes, or leaders of troops. Subsequently, a revolution 
 placed a single Palatine, Cracus, the founder of Cracow, at 
 the head of the government. During two centuries of alter- 
 nate tranquillity and anarchy, we distinguish among the 
 rulers of " the country of the plains," the beautifid maiden 
 sovereign Wenda, who drowned herself to get rid of her 
 responsibility. Prczemislaus, by his defeat of invading 
 Hungarians, was raised to the dignity of sovereign Duke, 
 under the name of Lesko I. At his death the Poles were so 
 perplexed upon tlie selection of a successor, that they at 
 last settled the difficulty by allowing it to be determined by 
 a horse-race! In addition to these names may be mentioned 
 that of Popial II., a tyrant who, with his family, was de- 
 voured by rats.
 
 THE EARLY ABDICATIONS. 
 
 373 
 
 Aeain were the electors troubled in tlieir choice of a svic- 
 cessor ; but ultimately (in 830) a peasant named Piast was 
 elevated to the dignity of supreme ducal chief. He lived to 
 the age of one hundred and twenty years, and ruled so wisely 
 and so well, that every native King of Poland, in subsequent 
 times, added the name of Piast to his own appellation. The 
 Piast dynasty of Dukes is said to have been hereditary. 
 However this may have been, the dynasty was not Christian 
 till about the year 970, when Duke Miecislaus I., struck by 
 the beauty of a Christian princess of Hungary, abjured 
 Paganism in order to gain her for his bride. It was his son 
 Boleslaus (Chrobry, or the Lion-hearted) who, in 999, was 
 created King by Otho III., Emperor of Germany. 
 
 Euss, Tartar, Bohemian, and Hungarian by turns, were 
 the enemies of the new kingdom. Many were the triumphs 
 of the latter, but vast also were her calamities. Her deso- 
 lation was complete ; but in the eleventh century arose 
 Casimir the Eestorer, whose name, indicative of his services, 
 is stiU dear to the Polish heart. His son and successor, 
 Boleslaus II., ranks among deposed monarchs. He was a 
 generous soldier, but a merciless King ; and so impatient 
 of counsel, that when Archbishop Stanislaus was bold enough 
 to offer him sage advice, Boleslaus assassinated the prelate. 
 The sovereign was deposed, and was probably shut up in a 
 monastery in Carinthia. Some accounts speak of him as a 
 wanderer over the earth ; others, that he was torn to pieces 
 by his own pack of hounds ; while a third class speak of him 
 as living in disguise among a labouring people, and only re- 
 vealing his identity when at the point of death. However 
 this may be, it is certain that, subsequently, for more than 
 two hundred years, the title of " King" of Poland was not 
 acknowledged by the Popes. 
 
 More than one " Duke" who reigned within that period 
 suffered deposition ; among them, Lesko the "White and 
 Vladislaus ; and several were celebrated for stupendous de-
 
 374 MONAECHS EETIEED FBOM BUSINESS. 
 
 baucliery, "and for the ostentatious piety which they prac- 
 tised by way of " set-off." The title of " King" was restored 
 at the end of the thirteenth century, in the person of Prcze- 
 mislaus. Towards the conclusion of the following century, 
 Hed\\ag, Christian King of Poland, married the handsome 
 heathen, Jagellon, Duke of Lithuania. The barbarian hus- 
 band added his dukedom to the country of which he now 
 became King, was baptized by the name of Vladislaus, and 
 founded that illustrious race of Jagellon, which was not ex- 
 tinct in the male line till the decease of the liberal Sigis- 
 mund Augustus, in 1571. 
 
 Three-quarters of a century of misrule, intrigue, and dis- 
 aster followed. Foreign prhices were elected to the crown, 
 several of whom, previous to their deaths, implored the 
 nobles to abolish the elective system, if they would not see 
 the kingdom ultimately perish. The system however was 
 preserved ; and therewith, added to traitors within, and 
 foreign enemies — particularly the Russ —from without, the 
 country was brought to the brink of ruin. In 1649, the 
 celebrated John Casimir stripped off his Cardinal's suit and 
 was elected King. After .nineteen years of rule, he with- 
 drew from the throne. A sketch of the singular career of 
 this singular monarch will be found in a succeeding page. 
 
 The glory of the country grew fainter with each succeed- 
 ing reign, exception being made of that of Sobieski, who 
 however, bold as he was in the field, was the abject slave of 
 a proud and exacting wife. The crown was virtually put up 
 for sale, and the degradation of Poland was complete when 
 Augustus, Elector of Saxony, entered Poland, and was 
 crowned at Cracow, amid a Saxon army, in the year 1697. 
 
 Charles XII., of Sweden, only temporarily displaced the 
 Saxons, and carried to the throne that Stanislaus Leczinski, 
 of whose unsceptred condition ample notice will be found 
 below. There only remains to be added here that in 1763 
 Russia, whose capital had once formed part of the Polisli
 
 THE EAELT ABDICATIONS. 375 
 
 territoiy, forced Stanislaus Poniatowski on the Poles as their 
 King. In the following year, the Czarina, for herself and 
 her heirs, published a solemn declaration, renouncing all 
 claim and pretence to any portion of the Polish territory. 
 Eight years after this solemn declaration, Stanislaus Ponia- 
 towski was dethroned, and Russia, Prussia (great part of 
 which had once belonged to Poland), and Austria, which had 
 owed its salvation to a Polish King, seized on the country, 
 partitioned it between them, and each illustrious plunderer 
 entered into a treaty, guaranteeing to his confederates an 
 uninterrupted enjoyment of their booty ! 
 
 Previous to noticing the principal Kings of Poland who 
 have laid down or been deprived of their sceptres, it may be 
 interesting to trace the fate of the descendants of Sobieski. 
 They w^ll be found in connection with another race debarred 
 from ascending the throne. 
 
 Sobieski disd on the throne, but the sceptre fell from his 
 family. His widow was anxious to secure the election for 
 her favourite younger son, Alexander; but finding that failure 
 was certain, she denounced her older son James as incapable, 
 and successfully implored the Diet to pass over the Sobieski 
 family if they would not bring ruin on the kingdom. This 
 conduct led to the election of Augustus of Saxony. After 
 the defeat of the latter monarch, at Klissow, Charles XII., 
 of Sweden, offered to raise James Sobieski to the Polish 
 throne. James accepted the offer with grateful delight ; but 
 the Saxons contrived to seize his person as he was out hunt- 
 ing with his brother, Coustantine ; and both princes were 
 immured within the Castle of Phessenburg, near Leipzig, in 
 1704. They passed more than two years in captivity, before 
 they were enlarged by the treaty which dethroned Augustus, 
 for a time, and elevated Stanislaus Leczinski to the throne. 
 
 A daughter of Sobieski, Theresa, married the Elector of 
 Bavaria, afterwards Charles VII., Emperor of Germany. Her 
 granddaughter, Maria Antoinetta, married into the Electoral
 
 376 MONAECHS BETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 family of Saxony, and througli her, the royal family of Saxony 
 trace their descent from Sobieski. Of the sons of the great 
 Marshal and Monarch, Alexander and Constantino died child- 
 less ; and as James died (in 1737) without male heirs, the 
 name of Sobieski became extinct. James had two daughters. 
 Mary, the elder, married the Duke de Bouillon, and had issue, 
 a son and daughter ; the latter espoused a E-ohan. The 
 younger daughter of James, Clementine, married (in 1719) 
 James Edward, the old Pretender. Their children were 
 Charles Edward, "Count of Albany," and Henry, Cardinal 
 of York. The former married the Princess of Stolberg, who, 
 when a childless widow, gave her hand to the poet Alfieri, — 
 a gift which could not increase the intimacy which had long 
 existed between the poet and the Princess. 
 
 The Stuart family held a mortgage on several estates in 
 Silesia, for money lent to Austria by James Sobieski. When 
 the King of Prussia seized Silesia, in 1740, he confiscated 
 the estates as Austrian, and the Stuart holders of the mort- 
 gage were plundered alike by Prussia and by Austria. The 
 first robbed them of their securities, and the latter refused 
 to compensate them for what they had lost.
 
 377 
 
 JOHN CASIMIR V. 
 
 " J'ai vu monter, j'ai vu descendre, 
 J'ai vu I'aube et I'ombre en mes cieux, 
 J'ai connu le pourpre, et le cendre, 
 
 Qui me va mieux." — Y. Htjgo, 
 
 A BBAYE and honest King was Casimir V. He was the 
 second son of Sigismund III., by a second marriage, with 
 Constance of Austria. He was twenty-four years of age, in 
 1633, when his widowed mother urged him to endeavour to 
 secure his election to the throne. Casimir, aware that his 
 father had expressed a desire that his elder son Vladislaus 
 should succeed him, disregarded the ambitious promptings 
 of his mother, zealously promoted the election of his brother, 
 was the first to render him joyful homage as King, and hav- 
 ing done so, enrolled himself in the Imperial armies, where 
 he performed the duty of a soldier with the greatest eclat. 
 Although he loved peace better than war, he was rash in his 
 bravery, and led many a cavalry charge headlong to almost 
 entire destruction. But, if he was the first in, on such oc- 
 casions, he was not also the first out; and he did not leave his 
 men to sufifer all sorts of privations while he was luxuriously 
 cared for by his cooks and valets. 
 
 If he was often unlucky in war, he was not less so on his 
 diplomatic missions and in his naval enterprises. In 1638, 
 he was the Imperial Legate chosen to conclude a treaty with 
 Spain against France, and to command a fleet, with the ob- 
 ject of destroying French commerce in the Mediterranean.
 
 378 MOKAECHS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 The military-diplomatic admiral embarked at Genoa, and was 
 soon after wrecked on tlie shores of Provence. He was re- 
 cognized, captured, and suffered a light imprisonment for two 
 years, during which he charmed the ladies by his gallant . 
 behaviour, and the men by his urbanity. 
 
 Casimir owed his liberty to the intercession of his brother, 
 the King ; after personally thanking whom, he set out on 
 his travels. He visited Loretto, on his way ; and he no 
 sooner beheld the miraculous house, when he was seized with 
 a desire to lead a holy life, and thereupon he became a mem- 
 ber of the Order of Jesuits, in 1643. After a three years' 
 trial, he grew weary of the life, but the Pope rewarded the 
 attempt by conferring on him a Cardinal's hat. Just at 
 this period he heard that his brother's son was in a hope- 
 less state of health ; and Casimir, reflectiug that this opened 
 to him a prospect of the throne, sent back the hat to the 
 Pope. The Holy Father received it with reluctance ; but 
 Casimir found the act justified, on hearing of his brother's 
 death, the next year, and on being elected to the throne, in 
 spite of the opposition of his younger brother, the Bishop 
 of Breslau, and of the Czar himself. The Pope even hastened 
 to grant him the necessary dispensations, and my Lord Car- 
 dinal succeeded to the throne of his brother. 
 
 John Casimir did more than this, — he succeeded to the 
 possession of his brother's wife, that famous Marie de Gou- 
 zague, who is the heroine of the ' Cinq-Mars ' of De Vigny, 
 and who was never in the least degree like the tender young 
 lady in the charming novel of the French Academician. 
 
 John Casimir enjoyed no luxurious life on the throne of 
 Poland. Cossacks and Tartars assailed him. He beat both 
 separately, only to meet them in arms again as vigorous as 
 ever. The former, when they found themselves unequal to 
 cope with him, united with Eussia, and the King was speedily 
 bewildered by the number of his enemies, the loss of his 
 great cities, and conspiracies in his very capital. Faction
 
 JOHN CASIMIE V. 379 
 
 within was as fatal as the former without ; and the delibera- 
 tions of the Diet could at any time be disturbed and sus- 
 pended by any single member pronouncing a veto against 
 further discussion ! 
 
 Disaster, however, could not render the King humble. 
 On the abdication of Christina of Sweden, he raised preten- 
 sions to her throne, then occupied by her cousin, Charles 
 Gustavus. The latter punished these pretensions by deso- 
 lating Poland and capturing Warsaw. Casimir fled into 
 Silesia, and formally placed his kingdom under the protec- 
 tion of that Virgin to whom he was in the habit of promis- 
 ing endless festivals in her honour, if she would only crown 
 his arms with victory. 
 
 Meanwhile Swede, Eussian, and Transylvanian overran 
 Poland with fire and sword. Ultimately, the patriotic peo- 
 ple drove out a part of their invaders, and made terms with 
 the remainder. The Treaty of Oliva, signed in 1660, re- 
 stored Casimir to his unstable throne, with the loss of some 
 fair portions of his dominions. 
 
 To secure the lavour of Our Lady he oppressed the So- 
 cinians. To gratify his wife, he proposed that the Duke 
 d'Enghieu, son of the great Conde, should be elected his suc- 
 cessor. Prince Lubomirski boldly told him to his face that 
 he would not be permitted to do for his own brother what 
 he proposed to do for the son of a foreigner. 
 
 The patriotic speaker escaped death, by flight, but his 
 property was confiscated. He appeared at the head of an 
 armed force and conquered Sobieski, who was commissioned 
 to destroy him. The high-minded victor refused to profit any 
 further by his victory than by exacting the reversal of his 
 sentence and the promise of the King to claim the right of 
 naming his successor. Lubomirski then went into voluntary 
 banishment at Breslau. 
 
 Again was Poland assailed by foreign enemies ; but Casi- 
 mir sent Sobieski to encounter them, and the Grand Marshal
 
 380 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 accomplislied his mission effectually. Tte King now hoped 
 for tranquillity, but he soon found intestine divisions as ini- 
 mical to his peace and safety as foreign invasion. Thence 
 arose a secret desire to lay down the burden of govern- 
 ment, and prepare himself for a better Avorld than this on 
 earth. This desire had been especially strong in the King 
 since the period of the decease of his wife, in 1667. A ru- 
 mour to this effect had got abroad ; but it was discredited, 
 rather because the popular sentiment wished for the preser- 
 vation of the King, than that it was ready to admit the pos- 
 sibility of losing him. 
 
 The report was realized, however, when a summons was 
 issued for the assembling of the States at Warsaw, in 1668. 
 At this meeting, Casimir, in modest costume, sat in presence 
 of the nobles while the trembling Pro-Cancellarius read aloud 
 the motives which impelled the King to resign a load he 
 could no longer carry. This document produced a double 
 effect. It was so touching in its truthfulness that half the 
 assembly burst into tears. The other half, however, uttered 
 cries of indignation, so exasperated were they at the idea of 
 a Casimir laying down a sceptre which they had vouchsafed 
 to confer upon him. The serene King smiled gratefully on 
 the weeping, and looked calmly on those who shouted. Both 
 parties were silent while he explained his motives for descend- 
 ing from the throne, pleaded that they were well-founded, and 
 almost implored permission to abdicate, yet also declared his 
 determination not to be turned aside from his resolve. If 
 he made vast sacrifices himself, he did not spare his hearers. 
 He showered on their heads a cataract of wholesome but 
 disagreeable truths. He painted the Poles as they were ; 
 censured them for their disunion, rebuked them for their 
 selfishness, and crowned all by these remarkable words, 
 which served to establish John Casimir on the roll of royal 
 prophets. 
 
 " I foresee," he exclaimed, " the calamities which menace
 
 JOHN CASIMIB V. 381 
 
 my country ; and would to God that I were a false prophet! 
 The Muscovite and the Cossack will unite with the people 
 who speak the same language with themselves, and will ap- 
 propriate to themselves the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. The 
 frontiers of Great Poland will be opened to Brandenburg, 
 and Prussia herself, will one day, by power of treaty or by 
 force of arms, invade our territory. In the midst of this 
 dismemberment of our State, the House of Austria will not 
 fail to take advantage of the opportunity to seize upon Cra- 
 cow ;" — and in this strain the King continued, till his au- 
 ditors were weeping tears of rage or sorrow at the vaticinated 
 downfall of their nation. The sorrow at losing a King who, 
 foreseeing the coming peril, might also be able to divert it, 
 increased rapidly. No persuasion, however, could induce 
 Casimir to depart from his resolution. In a burst of grief 
 and explosion of gratitude, the assembly voted him a pension 
 of princely character, with regard to amount, — which was 
 paid him grudgingly for awhile, and which ceased altogether 
 at a subsequent but not distant period. 
 
 The ex-King rode away from the scene in which he had 
 consummated his voluntary abdication, in a plain chariot, 
 and amid the sighs of a mourning people. After the expi- 
 ration of a brief delay, he turned his steps towards France, 
 where he was received with all the cordiality that Louis 
 XIV. could show to such a welcome guest as an uncrowned 
 King. He took up his residence in the pleasant Abbey 
 of St. Germain-des-Pres, where the community saluted him 
 with the title of "Tour Majesty." Casimir felt that such 
 a salutation was now an epigram, and he would playfully 
 pull the ear of any priest who presumed to render such 
 homage to a " poor brother." The King of France, however, 
 made him something more, and put him at his ease with re- 
 gard to pecuniary matters, by elevating him to the headship 
 of the community, and bestowing on him a similar dignity 
 in the Abbey of St. Martin of Nevers. John Casimir led
 
 382 MONABCHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 a very pleasant life in these retreats. He changed his resi- 
 denc3 according to the seasons, looked out at the world 
 from the " loop-hole of his retreat," and learned to consider 
 contemporary history with as little of partisan feeling as if 
 it was the history of by-gone times. The cell of the Eoyal 
 Abbot was by no means a repulsive locality. It was not, in- 
 deed, splendidly furnished, but it was a comfortable refuge 
 from the cares of the world ; and many a gossiping party 
 assembled therein, and talked wonderful things touching 
 their own wisdom and the folly of the world. "Wben the 
 gossips were gone, or when the ex-King was in Paris or 
 Nevers, he was not necessarily alone. Casimir indulged in 
 the great and exhaustless luxury of reading, and not a little 
 in correspondence and composition. He " wooed the Muses," 
 and wrote Latin odes which flattery thought would have 
 made old Horace blush with envy, but which the modest 
 author only accounted of as the pastime of an ex-King who 
 had turned monk, and who cultivated his taste and scholar- 
 ship from morn till eve, 
 
 " Then talked of -virtue till the time of bed." 
 
 Neither was the recluse alone in other respects. He was 
 visited by the most brilliant nobles and ladies of the day, 
 who remembered his consort, Marie de Gonzague, when that 
 clever lady was at the head of the gayest society in Paris. 
 These, however, were not the visitors he most ardentlv wel- 
 comed. There often came one alone who was more welcome 
 than all. This was a lady, of fail" looks, bright wit, and a 
 gentle yet sprightly nature. She was of some celebrity , 
 and was no other than that famous Marie Mignot, who was 
 the daughter of a washerwoman, and the widow of two 
 noble gentlemen of France. The conversation of Marie 
 charmed the last years of the regal Abbe, who. Abbe as he 
 was, and stoutly as he had declared, when first a widowed 
 King, that he would never wed again with another, was said
 
 JOHN CASIMIB. 383 
 
 to have privately married the laundress's pretty daughter. 
 And why not ? There was no derogation in espousing the 
 child of a hard-working woman. The mother of the Impe- 
 rial EomanofFs had stood over the tub, and not one of the 
 good woman's descendants has equalled her in virtue. 
 
 Much was said of the little private household of John 
 Casimir ; but nothing worse could be said of it than that 
 the parties were probably married and were certainly happy. 
 Whatever the condition of this household, it did not long 
 endure, — only three months. John Casimir fell ill, suf- 
 fered a brief while, and died at Nevers, at the close of the 
 year 1672. Wedded or not, Marie Mignot, now relict of a 
 counsellor of Grenoble, the second Marechal de I'Hopital, 
 and of a King of Poland, regretted the demise of a fallen 
 monarch, around whose last days her presence had shed a 
 charm for which Casimir was grateful. He had been sub- 
 missive to the will of his first wife, but Marie Mignot was 
 too happy to fulfil only his own. 
 
 France kept of this royal Abbe only his heart. For three 
 years, indeed, his body was deposited in the chui'ch of the 
 Jesuits in Paris. It was ultimately taken to Cracow, but 
 the heart was first extracted, and placed within a ponderous 
 tomb, which bore as ponderovis an inscription, in the church 
 of St. Germain-des-Pres. 
 
 Bishop Zalerski, in his massive volumes ' Epistolarum his- 
 torico-familiarum,' speaks touchingly of the death and fune- 
 ral of his old King. " Tristis nuntius " he calls the messen- 
 ger who brought the intelligence of the demise of Casimir. 
 The exequies of the last male descendant of the Vasas were 
 performed, in the Basilica of St. John, with a ceremony 
 worthy of so " modest and pious a Prince." Cecidit corona 
 capitis nostri ! is his mournful funeral song : " The crown 
 has fallen from our brow ! " It was no dissembled sorrow, 
 he says, that was witnessed at the side of the royal grave ; 
 but some of it seems to have been caused by the memory of
 
 384 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSIKESS. 
 
 the calamities which had fallen on Poland. " Nullus honor 
 erat," adds the Bishop, " quern non illi publica benevolentia 
 non prsestiterit, quern non ei et Senatus et Eegis auctoritas 
 detulerit." In such wise, amid honours contributed by pre- 
 sent King, Senate, and People, the ex-Jesuit, ex-Cardinal, ex- 
 Legate, ex-Greneral, ex- King, and ex- Abbe, ending so very 
 nearly where he began, descended to the tomb. His body 
 still rests in peace. His heart was trodden into dust amid 
 the riot of the first French Eevolution. 
 
 Marsy sculptured the monument beneath which the heart 
 was deposited, in the church of St. Cxermain-des-Pres. That 
 heart lay in good royal company, — of Childerics and Chil- 
 perics, and their spouses with more barbarous names, and 
 royal children of early and barbarous times. The most con- 
 spicuous object there, however, was the white marble statue 
 of Casimir, in royal robes, kneeling, and offering his crown 
 and sceptre to heaven. The eifigy thus knelt upon a tomb 
 of black marble, around the base of which was a bronze bas- 
 relief, the work of one of Casimir' s monks, a certain John 
 Thibaut, who was a most cunning caster of metals. The 
 bas-relief represented barbarian captives chained to trophies 
 of arms, thereby signifying the triumphs of Casimir over 
 Turks, Tartars, and Muscovites. 
 
 Another brother of the house, more of a scholar than an 
 artificer. Brother Francis Delfau, honoured the memory of 
 John Casimir by composing the inscription for the tomb. 
 Its length precludes its reproduction liere ; but its chief 
 assertions were, that John Casimir was a King who had 
 been especially designated " the orthodox" by Pope Alex- 
 ander VII., that he had traversed all the pathways of glory 
 and the virtues, and that this scion of Vasa as weU as of 
 the Jagellons was celebrated for his courage, learning, and 
 piety. " Ever invincible," says Brother Francis, who admits 
 however that he lost one battle out of seventeen, in which 
 he led the way to dismal glory. He subdued, we are told,
 
 JOHN CASIMIE T. 385 
 
 not only by strength of arm, but by sweetness of disposition, 
 before wbicb even " Cossacks and other rebels " dissolved 
 into allegiance. " Truly," says the poetic brother, in thun- 
 dering Latin, "this man, who overcame fortune by his vir- 
 tue, had his hall behind his fortifications, his palace in tents, 
 and his public spectacles in triumphs and ovations. For 
 the death of the children of Casimir, Brother Francis assigns 
 a curious reason. Had they lived, he says, to be greater 
 than himself, lie would not have been the greatest of his 
 race ; and had they been inferior to him, it would have been 
 said that his line had degenerated! And then, says the 
 enthusiastic author, " he fought for heaven as well as for 
 the throne ;" in proof of Avhich we are told how he built mo- 
 nasteries, destroyed the chapels of the Calvinists in Lithu- 
 ania, and expelled the Sociniaus from Poland. For, adds 
 the Brother, in reference to this last achievement, " John 
 Casimir would not allow tliose to have Casimir for a King, 
 who would not have Christ for their God." He had, we are 
 then informed, exhausted the list of glorious actions to be 
 done, and, finding nothing more to be performed, he laid 
 down the sceptre ! This very act caused the first tears which 
 he had ever made to flow from Polish eyes ; for his subjects 
 " wept not only because of a departing King, but also be- 
 cause of a departing national glory." At length he died, 
 wounded mortally by a fatal disease, — knowledge of a re- 
 verse which had fallen on Polish arms ; and so, afifection for 
 his country killed a monarch, who left his heart to the Abbey 
 of St, Germains ; " and we have buried it here," says Brother 
 Francis, "weeping as we performed the pious office!" 
 
 Xever was epitaph so highly pitched as this. This must 
 strike all who remember the irresolution of Casimir, how 
 thoroughly he was "hen-pecked " by his (and his brother's) 
 wife ; and that he gave up the crown, not because there were 
 no more glorious deeds to be performed, but because he was 
 worn out by national and donjestic dissensions. He lost all 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 JJ86 MONARCHS EETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 his melanclioly when he became an Abbe in commendam. He 
 was far from episcopal jui-isdiction ; felt some pride that he 
 was not the first King who had been Abbot of St. Germains ; 
 spoke gravely of the charge he had of the body of the great 
 Saint, and of those of the Saint's parents ; looked smilingly 
 on the relics in his church, the tunic of St. Vincent (brought 
 by Chilperic from Spain), the crown of thorns, one of the 
 very many arms of St. George, one of the fingers of St. Peter, 
 and a leg of one of the Innocents, whose name was, unfor- 
 tunately, not known. Then there was the actual chin of St. 
 Margaret, given to the church by Marie de Medicis, — at 
 sight of which the wits grew speculative touching the hue of 
 the lips and cheeks which were once in connection with it. 
 l^ut above all, Casimir was proud of that girdle of St. Mar- 
 garet which devout married ladies used to put on in the 
 church, in the hope that the weax^ing it would help to de- 
 liver them from a world of unpleasant trouble. On all these 
 matters, and on the traditions of the abbey, the old ques- 
 tions of servitude, and the arrangements which had to be 
 made when a woman within the jurisdiction of the Abbey 
 desired to marry with a man within the limits of the autho- 
 rity of another abbey, — on these questions the " orthodox 
 King" could talk pleasantly, albeit that his heart broke at 
 hearing bad news from Poland ! 
 
 And vet how small a sensation was caused by his death 
 among the gay and gossiping people of France ! Madame 
 de Sevigne was, at the very time, in plentiful lack of inci- 
 dents to communicate to her daughter. While Casimir lay 
 dying, she wrote the most delicious nonsense, but said, per- 
 haps knew, not a word about the moribund King. But this 
 pleasant lady was a very selfish person ; and a month before 
 the death of Casimir she had dismissed all thoughts of the 
 downfall of Lauzun with the complacent phrase, " Voici un 
 beau pays pour oublier les malheureux!"
 
 387 
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 
 
 " Pologne ! le plus doux des Princes 
 Cesse aussi de regner sur toi ; 
 II t'en reste encore I'esperance. . . 
 Sois son asile, heureuse France, 
 Sejour des Eois dans leurs mallieurs ! 
 S'il perd des sujets trop volages, 
 Tu lui remplace lexirs hommages." — Gresset. 
 
 Stanislaus Leczinski was a descendant of the old Eoyal 
 family of Bohemia, one of the Princesses of which married 
 a Polish Duke, and settled at Leckno. Of this marriage 
 Stanislaus was a descendant. He was born in Red Eussia, 
 in 1682, in the town of Lemberg. His celebrated father, 
 Eaphael, was the author of a phrase which gained the warm 
 eulogium of Eousseau : — " Malo periculosam libertatem 
 quam quietum servitium" — I prefer a dangerous liberty to 
 quiet slavery. Stanislaus was reared like a young Spartan, 
 and educated as though it had been intended to make of 
 him a miracle of erudition. He studied, travelled, became 
 a courtier, held high office at Court, and was created Pala- 
 tine of Posnonia by Augustus III. By the leaning of the 
 latter monarch towards Peter I. of Eussia, he incurred 
 the hostility of Charles XII. of Sweden. The result of 
 the active hostility and the no less active intrigues of the 
 latter, was, that the Poles declared the throne vacant, to 
 which Stanislaus Leczinski was elected in July, 1704. Ob- 
 jection was subsequently made to this election, that it had 
 
 s 2
 
 388 MONAECUS EETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 taken place on a Saturday, the " unlucky day" for Poland, 
 and that the accession of Stanislaus had been proclaimed 
 after sunset. Some fighting and hostile intriguing followed, 
 hut Stanislaus was solemnly crowned in October, 1705, in 
 presence of the Swedish King, whose armed force had rather 
 irregularly helped him to ascend the throne. For several 
 years he was maintained there by the power of the sword of 
 his great ally ; but the enemies against whom he had to 
 contend were powerful, and Poland was devastated by the 
 ferocity of the united Russians and Saxons. The fortune 
 of war was however favourable to Stanislaus. Augustus was 
 com])elled to surrender all pretensions to the crown ; and to 
 a letter addressed to him as Elector of Saxony, in which he 
 was officially informed of the accession of Stanislaus, he made 
 (hie reply, in his Electoral character. Eor a brief period 
 Poland acknowledged the wise rule of the most beneficent 
 of Kings ; peace however was not a blessing the country 
 was permitted long to enjoy. It was swept by the scourge 
 of war, and suffered dreadfully, even in its victories. The 
 result of the fatal day of Poltowa deprived Stanislaus of 
 his Swedish ally. In the absence of the latter, the King 
 of Polaiid, although driven from his own dominions, gal- 
 lantly defended those of Charles. Convinced of the hope- 
 lessness of resistance, he sent messengers to the royal 
 Swede, who was then at Bender, imploring permission to 
 resign the Polish crown. Charles bade him be resolute, pro- 
 mising soon to be at his side to give him succour and lead 
 him in triumph to AVarsaw. As a last resource, Stanislaus 
 proceeded in disguise into the Turkish dominions, and en- 
 tered Jassy in November, 1712. Being challenged by the 
 commandant of the place, he simply announced himself as 
 bping a French officer in the Swedish service. " Major 
 aum^'' he added, to the commandant. " Imo^'' said the latter, 
 who had recognized him, " Maximus es." During many 
 months Stanislaus, after being conducted with much cere-
 
 STANISLATJS LECZINSKI. 389 
 
 mony to the quarters of Charles, was detained in a species 
 of splendid captivity ; nor did he finally leave Bender till 
 the year 1714. The intervening time had been passed in 
 hot discussion with Charles and the ministers of the Porte, 
 and in abortive attempts to defeat the intrigues of Russia. 
 Stanislaus, previous to his departure, declared to Charles that 
 he would never draw his sword again for the sake of keep- 
 ing or gaining a crown. " Then I will draw it for you," ex- 
 claimed Charles, " and will carry you triumphantly to War- 
 saw. Meanwhile I put you in possession of the Duchy of 
 Deusponts." 
 
 To this Duchy Stanislaus withdrew in disguise. He there 
 was joined by his family, — his mother, wife, and two daugh- 
 ters. He enjoyed there but little repose, for plots were 
 made to seize his person, and an attempt to assassinate him 
 was attributed to the ministers of his rival Augustus. Added 
 to this, the death of Charles, in 1718, deprived him of his 
 refuge in the Duchy, which was occupied by the new heir. 
 After some delay the Regent Duke of Orleans gave him a 
 stately asylum at Weissenburg, in Alsace, and offered him 
 a guard. Stanislaus replied, that he had sufficient protection 
 in the honour of the King of France, and the hearts of the 
 French people. He lived here the happy life of an accom- 
 plished country gentleman. Russia and Saxony, jealous of 
 his felicity, and utterly disbelieving the extreme disinclina- 
 tion of Stanislaus to re-assume royalty, demanded his extra- 
 dition. The demand was haughtily refused by the Regent. 
 The great enemies of Stanislaus next attempted to deprive 
 him of life, by means of poisoned snufii". The attempt failed ; 
 but the crime so affected the gentle King, that he earnestly 
 besought permission to resign the crown. The French Go- 
 vernment would not yield consent, and the health of tht 
 refugee-monarch began to give way. It was in some degree 
 revived by an intimation conveyed to him by the young 
 Louis XY. ; the nature of Avhich may be judged by the fact
 
 390 MONARCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 that one morning he entered the bedroom of his daughter 
 Maria Leczinska, and, saluting her with unwonted formal 
 ceremony, he joyfully exclaimed, " My child, yoii are Queen 
 of France!" Not the least happy portion of his life was 
 that which he passed at Chambord, near the royal residence 
 of the youthful and married sovereigns, in whose society he 
 spent a part of nearly every day. He himself had fain hoped 
 that he had done with crowns for ever ; but the death of 
 Augustus, in 1733, plunged this most u.nwilling pretender 
 into new difficulties. The hostile Powers had insisted on 
 the Polish Diet proceeding to a new election. France and 
 the Polish friends of Stanislaus urged him to proceed to 
 "Warsaw and assume the crown. " Alas !" said the poor 
 Prince, " I know that the Poles will acknowledge me ; but 
 I am quite sure that they will not support me." Overcome 
 by the almost commands of the French Govei'nment and 
 the entreaties of his friends, he contrived to enter Poland, 
 in spite of the watchfulness of Eussian and German spies 
 to catch him on his way. So discreetly did he travel, that 
 those very spies often helped him on his road, and never 
 were more surprised than when they heard of his safe 
 arrival within the Polish frontier. Three days after his ar- 
 rival, on the 11th September, 1733, he was once more elected 
 King by his enthusiastic subjects. What followed however 
 showed the correctness of the foresight of Stanislaus. The 
 Poles failed him when the overpowering armies of Russia 
 were sent against him. His partisans had nearly dispersed, 
 but they made him magnificent promises ; and it was to 
 await the result that the Polish King sought safety within 
 the fortified walls of Dantzic, — a free city, which enjoyed 
 the sovereign protection of the Kings of Poland. The Rus- 
 sians besieged the city, and pressed it so closely, while de- 
 manding the surrender of Stanislaus, that in order to save it 
 from annihilation, he resolved to leave the city in disguise, 
 in order to enable the citizens to capitulate. This they had
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 391 
 
 resolutely refused to do as long as the King required their 
 protection. The narrative of the escape was written by the 
 hand of the royal fugitive himself, in a letter to his daugh- 
 ter, the Queen of France. The illustrious writer informs 
 her that he quitted the city in the night of Sunday, the 7th 
 of June, disguised as a peasant, and accompanied by Gene- 
 ral Steenflieth, and four men hired for the occasion. The 
 party embarked in two small boats, and hoped to reach the 
 Vistula by rowing through the floods. They were unable to 
 accomplish this end, and were compelled to pass the night 
 in a hut in the midst of the waters, and exposed to be 
 searched by the enemy. Monday was passed in this refuge, 
 from which Stanislaus could see the bombardment of the 
 city. At nightfall, the party again embarked. They had to 
 row through reeds and shallows, and to drag the boat over 
 the marshes into the ditches, where the water was of greater 
 depth. After a night's incessant toil, during which tlie 
 King was separated from the General, Stanislaus was once 
 more compelled, at daybreak, to seek shelter in a hut, near 
 the dyke of the A^istula. The fugitive King was concealed 
 in a garret, where he tried to sleep upon some straw ; but 
 the hut was filled below with Russian soldiers, whose noise 
 and dangerous vicinity kept him awake. Tor a whole week 
 did this sort of life last ; the King Iving concealed by day 
 in places which scarcely promised him security, and pad- 
 dling about at night through the dark marshes and water- 
 courses, making but small progress in many hours. On the 
 Thursday, Stanislaus consulted with his rough companions as 
 to the course it would be most advisable to take, to escape 
 from this labyrinth of waters. " Our consultations," he 
 says, " were regulated by a great bottle of brandy, which the 
 ambassador had ordered to be put into a hamper, with a 
 bottle of Tokay, to which I may justly affirm I owed my 
 subsistence, during the vagrant life I led for seven days. 
 I was obliged to proportion the quantity ol' brandy ; for
 
 392 MONARCHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 when my peasants had taken but a sup, they would be faint- 
 hearted, and cry that they did not see how we could go for- 
 ward, and tliat they were afraid of being taken and hanged ; 
 but when they had drunk deeper, they would have taken me 
 through the enemy's camj)." The Thursday night was passed 
 in scrambling along the dykes and through the marshes, on 
 foot or on horseback, the cowai'dice of the escort threaten- 
 ing to betray the King, whenever they came near an enemy's 
 post. The party succeeded however in finding a boat, and 
 in crossing the Vistula. On the other side, a rude calash 
 was procured, into which one of the peasant escort was 
 tumbled in a state of helpless drunkenness, while the other 
 acted as coachman. Through various difficulties the royal 
 fugitive continued to make way, his greatest dangers arising 
 from the drunkenness and stupidity of his guides ; but Sta- 
 nislaus crossed the Nogat in safety, and on Saturday night, 
 the 3rd of July, found rest, protection, and General Steen- 
 flieth, in the friendly city of Marienwerder. Prussia treated 
 the fugitive King with great distinction ; but Stanislaus re- 
 mained still a fugitive, till the end of the war, in 1738. At 
 that period, Germany, against which France had declared 
 war, on account of the Emperor's conduct with regard to 
 Poland, was reduced to accept the terms imposed by France. 
 It was therein agreed that Stanislaus should abdicate, but 
 that he should retain the title and honours of a King ; and 
 that he should be put in possession of the duchies of Lor- 
 raine and Bar, which, at his deatli, should be annexed defi- 
 nitively to the Prench crown. 
 
 Prom this period, Stanislaus became a happy uncrowned 
 King. The sovereign Dukes of Lorraine, descendants of 
 Charlemagne, and connected with the Imperial House of 
 Austria, had been, for the most part, beneficent rulers, and 
 the inhabitants of the Duchies looked with some distrust 
 upon the new ruler wlio was now set over them, a " King 
 and no King;." But Stanislaus was a man of irood common
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 393 
 
 sense, and of a naturally kind disposition. He resolved, 
 therefore, that his new subjects should find in him the chief 
 source of their happiness ; and he well knew that such a re- 
 solution was, in itself, the best policy. He did not, how- 
 ever, realize all he resolved, nor always act as if he knew 
 that his best policy lay in such a resolution. 
 
 The last Duke of Lorraine, Francis, was no loser by tlie 
 treaty which gave his duchies to Stanislaus, and ultimately 
 to France. He obtained in exchange for them the hand of 
 Maria Theresa, the Grand Duchy of Tuscany, and, with his 
 wife, the Imperial Crown. 
 
 The first step taken by Stanislaus, was to invite around 
 him those great artists, such as Duval, the mechanician 
 Wa3rringe, and Chamant, the architect, who had adorned 
 the old Ducal court in past times. But these men had heard 
 the proclamation read at Nancy, amid the curses of the en- 
 raged people, surrounded by French troops, which destroyed 
 their old nationality, and the artists followed into foreign 
 land the fortunes of the old Ducal family. Stanislaus con- 
 soled himself by welcoming as liis visitors, at various times, 
 Voltaire, Maupertuis, Helvetius, and the philosophers of 
 their school. He was kind, pious, and enlightened, but he 
 was also an epicurean of the first order. He taxed his in- 
 genuity on this point with great success. He invented 
 many a new dish, vastly improved the style of cooking, and 
 astonished the Lorrainers by eating his sauer-kraut raw, 
 and by having served up at his table- dishes of meat with 
 fruits, both of which had been cooked together. G-eese 
 which had been plucked when alive, then whipped to death 
 and marinSes, were set down in his bill of fare as foreign 
 birds ; and after a somewhat similar fashion, turkeys were me- 
 tamorphosed into coqs de hruyeres, and were brought to table 
 buried under the strong-smelling herbs of Lorraine. One 
 year was remarkable for the entire failure of the fruit, but 
 Stanislaus would not be deprived of his dessert. Composi- 
 
 s3
 
 394 MOKARCHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 tions of sugared vegetables, and especially of turnips, proved 
 the ingenuity of the uncrowned King, turned confectioner. 
 All these dishes were popular during his lifetime ; and even 
 now the Lorrainers dip their hahas (or cakes in w^hich there 
 are raisins de caisse and saffron) into their wine, and think 
 pleasantly, the while, of the royal inventor. 
 
 On one occasion, there appeared on the hospitable board 
 of Stanislaus, a huge pie ; the guests were admiring its 
 dimensions, beavity, and odour, when suddenly the almond 
 cakes which covered it flew in all directions, and from be- 
 neath them leaped up Bebe, the ex-king's favourite dwarf, 
 armed like a knight. The whole table was in a roar of de- 
 light, except indeed one noble gentleman, whose nose the 
 dwarf had pricked with his lance, and who vowed mortal 
 vengeance for the two or three drops of blood which fell in 
 consequence. Stanislaus loved his dwarf so well, that he 
 provided for his security by putting him under the care of 
 two soldiers of his bodyguard. 
 
 The Duke of Lorraine, who had made way for Stanislaus, 
 became, among other things, by right of his wife, King of 
 Hungary, and every year he forwarded to Nancy a little 
 cask of Imperial Tokay. Stanislaus received the present 
 with grateful ceremony, and the joyous cask entered the 
 gates of his palace under an escort of grenadiers, and beneath 
 the shadow of the flags of Hungary, Austria, and Lorraine. 
 
 But little casks will soon run dry if the spigot be often 
 turned, and when the Tokay was out, Stanislaus would sigh 
 for more. He was not well able to purchase it, for the 
 produce was small, and, moreover. Imperial property. He 
 bethought himself, however, that he might imitate it. forth- 
 with he girded on an apron, and after various trials, he suc- 
 ceeded, by means of amalgamating Burgundy with ingredi- 
 ents known only to himself, in composing what he thought 
 might pass for Tokay. A droll thought inspired him when 
 he first rejoiced in the invention. He kept it a secret ; and
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. , 395 
 
 when the annual small Imperial cask arrived (it contained 
 but a hundred bottles), he made presents of his own Tokay 
 to his courtiers, while he kept the genuine wine to himself. 
 The lords of the Court were delighted at the favour con- 
 ferred on them ; but when they came to compare notes, and 
 discovered that his ex-majesty had distributed in gifts not less 
 than six hundred bottles, they thought of the readiness of his 
 concocting hand, and laughed at the trick he had played 
 them. The Stanislaus Tokay was not consumed so quickly 
 as the imported wine, but it rose in value with its years, 
 and within the memory of persons still living in Nancy, a 
 single bottle of it has fetched the exorbitant price of forty- 
 two francs. It was indifferent wine, but an ex- King made 
 it, and the price was paid not merely for the liquor, but for 
 the name of the composer. 
 
 People at a distance had little idea of the splendour and 
 cost of the household of Stanislaus, till the details were pub- 
 lished at his death. It was then found that the court of this 
 monarch, who had withdrawn from active life, consisted of 
 five grand officers, sixteen gentlemen of the chamber, five 
 gentlemen in waiting, eight stewards, seven chaplains, four 
 private secretaries, ten medical men, twelve valets, and ten 
 domestiques de chamhre, three maitres d''hdtel, twenty-four 
 cooks, three treasurers, eight "personnes a I'office," seven 
 persons to superintend the roasts, four confectioners, five 
 cellar and pantry men, seven table-deckers, six fourriers, 
 twenty-six footmen, seventeen servants in petite livree, two 
 runners, three chairmen, thirty-one porters, ten masters of 
 the horse, thirteen postilions, eleven helpers, five chaise 
 postilions, eighteen grooms, eight muledrivers, eight Hei- 
 duques, sixty-three instrumental and vocal performers, seven- 
 teen architects, painters, marble-workers, etc., foi^ty-one 
 gardeners and gate-keepers, and twenty-two other function- 
 aries of different style and title. There were also four or 
 five dozen of pensioners on the list, and the "appointments"
 
 896 MONABCHS BETIRED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 of all these individuals cost 57,964 livres 12 sous, or about 
 2400 pounds sterling per month. Never was retired mon- 
 arch (save Diocletian) so magniiiceutly served, and never 
 was so much magnificence had at so small a cost. The list 
 of pensioners presents a curious admixture of names and 
 personages. Groudichaud, the horse-keeper, is set down for 
 12 livres 10 sous, between the Princess de Talmont for 
 2000 livres, and the Marchioness de Boufflers, who passed 
 for the King's very particular favourite, but who figures on 
 the list for the small sum of 625 livres, or 25 pounds a 
 month ! 
 
 One of Walpole's pleasantest anecdotes is told of this 
 celebrated lady, in a letter to Mann, dated 1764. " I love," 
 he says, " to tell yuu an anecdote of any of our old acquain- 
 tance, and I have now a delightful one, relating, yet indi- 
 rectly, to one of them. You know, to be sure, that Madame 
 de Craon's daughter, Madame de Boufilers, has the greatest 
 power with King Stanislaus. Our old friend, the Princess 
 de Craon, goes seldom to Luneville for this reason, not en- 
 during to see her daughter on that throne which she so long 
 filled with absolute empire. But Madame de Boufflers, who, 
 from his Majesty's age, cannot occupy all the places in the 
 palace that her mother filled, indemnifies herself with His 
 Majesty's Chancellor. One day the lively old Monarch 
 said, ' Eegardez quel joli petit pied, et la belle jambe ! Mon 
 Chancelier vous dira le reste !' You know this is the form 
 when a King of France says a few words to his Parliament, 
 and then refers them to his Chancellor." 
 
 Stanislaus could be just as well as witty. Voltaire pre- 
 sented to him his History of Charles XII., and expected 
 to be overwhelmed with compliments. The ex-King, after 
 reading the book, humiliated the philosopher by demand- 
 ing, how he dared to present to him, an actor in the scenes 
 described, a book in which veracity was outraged a thousand 
 times over ?
 
 STAKISLAUS LECZINSKT. 397 
 
 Stanislaus not only entertained nobles, but artists and 
 pbilosopbers, at his well-laden table. He was himself an 
 accomplished musician, and he painted pastels almost as 
 charmingly as Howell of Huddersfield is now said to do. 
 Letters and the arts celebrated gratefully, in return, the 
 virtues of their magnificent Miecenas. He was the most 
 courteous of hosts, but very far from being the most gra- 
 cious of masters. 
 
 Stanislaus was a King without a sceptre, and a Duke with- 
 out a Duchy. He was merely nominal Duke of Lorraine. 
 The administration of affairs was in the hands of his 
 Chancellor, M. de la Galaiziere, who acted for the King of 
 France, and exercised all real authority. Stanislaus had the 
 less responsibility, and enjoyed all the more the two million 
 crowns which were annually forwarded to him from Ver- 
 sailles for his support. 
 
 His household was composed chiefly of Poles and French. 
 There were few Lorrainers on the establishment. The con- 
 sequence was, that, for some time after the arrival of the 
 King, neither Pole nor Frenchman could go abroad without 
 fear of outrage. One or two were even murdered, and the 
 Lorraine priests were said to have had voice or hand in the 
 matter ; but these outrages soon ceased, and Stanislaus won 
 some degree of popularity by employing the workmen. 
 
 He became a huge demolisher and builder. Churches, 
 chapels, ducal palaces, castles, towers, and town-houses — he 
 swept away dozens, in order to raise others, and antiquaries 
 at least owe him little praise for his destructiveness. His 
 greatest glory, according to some, is that brilliant church of 
 JSTotre Dame de Bon Secours, which no one leaves Nancy 
 without visiting, and in which he and his consort, Caroline 
 Opzinska, were entombed. But antiquaries see in this build- 
 ing the ex-King's greatest crime ; for in order to construct 
 it, he demolished that famous old church of the same name, 
 erected by Eene II., Duke of Lorraine, in gratitude for the
 
 398 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BFSINESS. 
 
 great victory over rash Charles, Duke of Burgundy, in 1477, 
 — won onthevery spot. Anhonest pevpterer, who lived in sight 
 of the old church, was so indignant at the profanation, that 
 he walled up his windows, that his eyes might not be offended 
 by the continual sight of what was going on. Stanislaus 
 built all his edifices in an entirely modern style, and rendered 
 their interiors entirely unfit for the decorations, the pictures, 
 arms, or tapestry by which the original edifices had been once 
 adorned. His grand triumphal arches, his Italian facades, 
 his broad yet light edifices, are indeed full of beauty ; but they 
 impressed me, even very recently, as wearing an 'imperti- 
 nent ' look, when compared with even the few remains of the 
 old feudal Nancy which still exist. The fact is, that Stanis- 
 laus entirely changed the face of the city. He may be said 
 to have nearly rebuilt it, but not at his own cost. The citi- 
 zens were heavily taxed, the French Government contributed 
 largely, and Stanislaus himself added small sums, as advances 
 were needed. The city authorities became plunged in debt, 
 but their King-Duke dined gaily, and his banquets were 
 none the less costly because of the city's discontent. Wheti 
 the city suffered, or when the Duchy generally was in dis- 
 tress, Stanislaus was compassionate enough to suggest to 
 others to make sacrifices in order to alleviate the miser}'. 
 A t last he supplied considerable sums from his OMii treasury, 
 — and published the details of his own charity. His courtiers 
 called him the " Benevolent," and Stanislaus caught at the 
 title, and wore it with much complacency. 
 
 His public works have been highly praised ; among them 
 is the great road between Nancy and Toul. The old road was, 
 so to speak, broken in two by a valley ; this valley Stanis- 
 laus filled up, not at his own cost, nor by the remunerated 
 labour of the peasantry : it was effected by that ante-revo- 
 lutionary imposition called the corvee, by which everypeasant 
 was compelled to construct, or keep in repair, a certain length 
 of road in his own district. The farmers were as little cared
 
 STANISLAUS LECZIJfSKI. 399 
 
 for as the labouring men, Stanislaus kept up a truly royal 
 state in his preserves, chases, and forests. He took great 
 pride in his deer, and these were so numerous that the har- 
 vests were often ruined by them, — so destructive were they 
 to the crops. The amiable monarch is praised indeed for 
 having reduced his hunting establishment, and opened his 
 preserves for cultivation. He certainly did this, — but it was 
 not till he was too old to mount a horse or hold a gun. 
 Before that, if a hungry man snared a hare, he was sent to 
 the gallows. During the twenty-nine years that Stanislaus 
 reigned in Lorraine, he was rather the munificent patron of 
 artists than the father of his people. And yet there is much 
 difference of opiuiou on this subject ; and this difference is 
 not to be wondered at. Stanislaus spent freely where he was 
 entirely his own master ; but where his Chancellor, M. de 
 Galaiziere, held the control, Stanislaus exercised as much 
 of his will as he could, and paid no more than he was com- 
 pelled to do. 
 
 Among the warmest of his admirers was Frederick of 
 Prussia, who was so delighted with the report made to him, 
 by Maupertuis, of tlie way of life of Stanislaus, that Frederick 
 addressed to the latter, notes full of admiration and praise, 
 neither of which was unacceptable to Stanislaus, The latter 
 had as great a eulogist, at one time, in Voltaire, who was 
 often the guest of the Pole at Xancy, Luneville, or some of 
 the country residences of Stanislaus. The Kling visited the 
 philosopher in his chamber, as another sovereign did Titian in 
 his studio ; and Voltaire acted without ceremony towards his 
 host and the rules of the household. There was no man more 
 irregular in his habits than the philosopher. He had an 
 utter contempt for the fixed hours for meals, and often re- 
 quii-ed his own to be served to him, alone, in his own apart- 
 ment. It might be considered that this especial u-regularity 
 could not very seriously have troubled the routine of so well- 
 mounted a house as that of our pensioned monarch. Never-
 
 400 MOKARCIIS EETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 theless it offended the latter, and M. AUiot, the Controller 
 of the establishment, intimated to Voltaire that he wonld 
 henceforward be required to dine at the table of the gen- 
 tlemen of the chamber. Voltaire chose to consider this as 
 a monition that his presence was no longer required at the 
 palace ; and he who had been the chosen companion of the 
 King in his visits to Versailles, now quitted him in dudgeon. 
 The hospitality of Stanislaus was, however, too welcome to 
 Voltaire to be for ever renounced ; and the philosopher, sup- 
 pressing his anger, again rejoined the motley circle, where 
 free-thinking philosophers sat b}^ the side of the most bigoted 
 of priests and the most rabid of Jesuits. Stanislaus was 
 strangely attached to the " Society of Jesus," and when the 
 edict for its suppression was sent abroad, he would not 
 permit it to be published in his Duchies. The architect of 
 Stanislaus once turned the ex-King's predilection for the 
 Jesuits to official account. Stanislaus complained of the in- 
 convenience he experienced in his library from the smoking 
 of the chimney. " That would be cured," said the architect, 
 " if your Majesty would set a Jesuit at the top of it. The 
 Jesuits draw everything towards themselves." And again, 
 when the ex-King was granting pensions to ex-Jesuits, M. 
 de Tressen asked him if he would do nothing for the family 
 of Damiens (the Jesuit-prompted assassin), which was in the 
 deepest distress. Stanislaus was more troubled at the per- 
 secution of the Society than he was at the perils which threat- 
 ened him when France supported the claims of the Elector 
 of Bavaria to the Imperial croAvn, against those of Maria 
 Theresa, and the forces of the latter approached so near to 
 Lorraine as to threaten his safety. Stanislaus, rather pre- 
 cipitately, took refuge behind tlie ramparts of Mctz, nor did 
 he return to Nancy or Luneville till all danger was over. 
 
 He possessed more equanimity in contemplating the va- 
 cancy of and succession to his own old throne. When his 
 rival Augustus died, the Czarina procured the election of
 
 STANISLAUS LECZTKSKI. 401 
 
 Stanislaus Augustus, Count Poniatowski. This latter noble- 
 man, before his accession, was glad to eat a poor dinner at 
 Dolly's Chop-house, at the expense of the son of a de- 
 throned King, and he lived to be a sceptreless monarch 
 himself Meanwhile, A\^alpole says of him, in a letter to 
 "Sir Horace," dated 1764<, "Count Poniatowski, with whom 
 I was acquainted when he was here, is King of Poland, and 
 calls himself Stanislaus the Second. This is the sole instance, 
 I believe, upon record, of a second of the name being on 
 the throne while the first was living, without having contri- 
 buted to dethrone him. Old Stanislaus lives to see a line of 
 successors, like Macbeth in the Cave of the Witches." 
 
 Twenty years before this, Stanislaus entertained Louis XV. 
 The French King had left Paris for Alsace, to defend Prance 
 against the Imperialists. He was seized with smallpox at 
 Metz, and the loyal people entered into a solemn engage- 
 ment that if Heaven would cvire him, they would manifest 
 their gratitude in an extraordinary way. Louis recovered. 
 Metz has perhaps the finest Gothic cathedral in France. 
 The grateful citizens covered its Gothic west front with a 
 Grecian portico ; and when one remembers why it was 
 placed there, the wish will arise that Louis had died of the 
 malady under which he had laboured. 
 
 When Stanislaus heard that the daughters of Louis — Ade- 
 laide and Victoria — had suddenly set out from Metz to Lune- 
 ville, to visit their grandfather, the ex-King ordered mag- 
 nificent preparations for their reception. Plis steward hinted 
 that so much splendour was not needed for his " petites- 
 filles." But the ex-King said, with a smile, "Mes petites- 
 filles sont plus grandes que moi." For a moment however 
 he was himself uneasy at the idea that he might exceed his 
 means by giving the young Princesses a more gorgeous wel- 
 come than was necessary. Walpole alludes to this unex- 
 pected visit of " Mesdames his granddaughters;" and adds 
 that Stanislaus " was so disturbed for fear it should derange
 
 402 MOKAECHS KETIEED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 his finances, which he thought were not in advance, that he 
 shut himself up for an hour with his treasurer, to find re- 
 sources, was charmed to know he should not run in debt, 
 and entertained them magnificently." Indeed there was 
 something princely in his character, and, as the writer last 
 quoted observes, " Not only the court tables were regularly 
 and nobly served, but he treated and defrayed his old 
 enemy's (Augustus II., King of Poland) granddaughter, the 
 Princess Christina, on her journey hither (to Paris) to see 
 her sister, the Daupliiuess." 
 
 There were two of the children of this Dauphiness who 
 frequently coi'responded with Stanislaus. They were the 
 boys who Avere afterwards known as Louis XVI. and Charles 
 X., and both of whom died stripped of their crowns. When 
 their father, the Dauphin, died, a funeral oration on the 
 event was delivered at Nancy. A copy of the speech w^as 
 previously shown to Stanislaus, who, much to his sui'priso. 
 found in it a warm euiogium on his own virtues. " Strike 
 out that passage," said he calmly, "and keep it unsaid till 
 after my death." 
 
 Wraxall, in the gossiping ' Memoirs of his own Time,' in 
 describing the royal residence at Luneville, says that " Sta- 
 nislaus, during the last years of his life, withdrew to rest 
 every night at nine o'clock, and his departure constituted 
 the signal for commencing Faro. All the persons of both 
 sexes comprising his court and household, then sat down to 
 that infatuating game, which was continued, without inter- 
 mission, to a late hour. But a circumstance seemingly in- 
 credible is, that the rage for it became such as to attract by 
 degrees to the table all the domestics of the palace, down to 
 the very turnspits or scullions, who, crowding round, staked 
 their ecus on the cards over the heads of the company. Such 
 a fact," adds Sir Nathaniel, "proves the relaxation of man- 
 ners which prevailed in the Court of Lorraine under Stanis- 
 laus."
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 403 
 
 Although he was, even after passing fourscore years of 
 age, of robust health, he looked forward to his own demise 
 as a circumstance which coiild not be very remote. One 
 day, in the year 1765, he drove from his Chateau of Mal- 
 grange to the Church of Notre Dame de Bons Secours, in 
 Nancy, — and remained, long after the service, alone in his 
 " tribune" near the altar. When he came out to his expec- 
 tant attendants, he remarked, " I have been kept there by 
 the thought that very soon I shall probably be lying three 
 feet lower than where I was then kneeling." Some courtier- 
 like words of encouragement were officiously murmured 
 around him ; but he observed, " I am the most aged King 
 in Europe ; what then is to be expected ? I have endured, 
 too, as many hardships, and encountered more accidents 
 than most men. Except being burned, I do not know what 
 I have not suiFered. Of new mischances, there is really only 
 some catastrophe by fire that could befall me." 
 
 And by that catastrophe he perished. His daughter, the 
 Queen of France, had visited him in 1765, and she banter- 
 ingly reproached him with the shabbiness of the thin rohe- 
 ile-chamhre in which the octogenarian passed his days. On 
 her return to Versailles, she despatched to him a wadded 
 di'essing-gown, of much finer quality. The old King had it 
 on on the morning of the 5th of February, 1766. He had 
 just risen from his prayers, and had drawn near to the wood- 
 fire on the hearth, in order to light his pipe ; he went closer 
 than iisual, to look at the dial on the chimneypiece, and 
 while he was trying with his feeble sight to make out the 
 hour, the lower part of his robe caught fire. He stooped 
 to extinguish it, but in doing so lost his balance, and fell 
 forward. His face struck against a point of the brass "dogs" 
 which supported the burning wood, and his left hand was 
 plunged into the midst of the burning mass. He attempted 
 to cry aloud, but he speedily became senseless, and knew no 
 more, for the present, even of pain.
 
 404 MOXARCHS EETIRED FROM BUSIKESS. 
 
 The Guard who kept watch outside the door from which 
 the King's room was separated by an antechamber, soon 
 " smelt fire," as he said, and opened the door of the ante- 
 room, to warn the attendants. There were none at hand. 
 He was certain that the fire was in the King's apartment, 
 but his orders forbade him to enter, and his excellent dis- 
 cipline accelerated the King's death. The sentinel however 
 shouted lustily, until a dozen idle lacqueys rushed up, and 
 with them one who was privileged to enter the royal chamber 
 when he would. This ofiicial's name was Sister ; he was an 
 old Pole, who had been a follower of Stanislaus since the 
 latter was only a Starost, or judge, in Poland. Sister burnt 
 his own hands severely in drawing his unhappy master from 
 the flames. Stanislaus was dreadfully burned from the left 
 temple to the knee ; but when he recovered his conscious- 
 ness, he bore the pain with philosophical patience. He im- 
 proved slightly, but fever su.pervened, and all hope was lost. 
 The suffering old man of eighty-eight did not however lose 
 his own gaiety of spirit. His old gown had been made of 
 material that was not inflammable ; but he wrote to the 
 daughter who had presented him with the new rohe-de- 
 chamhre which was so fatal to the wearer, — " You thought, 
 my love, to keep me warm ; but I have been much warmer 
 than you intended." A lady had audience of him, as he lay 
 ill ; she was herself suffering from an accident to her left 
 arm, the rufile of which had caught fire. The gallant old 
 monarch could not forbear a compliment to the fair, even 
 in the arms of dear,h ; " Ah, IVIadam," he faintly exclaimed, 
 " we are consumed by the same flame !" 
 
 By some writers, his death is said to have been accele- 
 rated by the fact, that the pious King wore a silver girdle 
 with points inside, next the flesh, and that these being 
 heated, and pressed into his body, when his attendants were 
 endeavouring to extinguish the fire, produced wounds, the 
 suppuration from which caused exhaustion. As Lady Mary
 
 STAXISLATJS LECZIXSKI. 
 
 405 
 
 and Mr. Churcliill were standing by his bedside a day or 
 two previous to his death, he spoke of his strange life, and 
 added, " There only wanted a death like this, to close the 
 career of an adventurer like me." 
 
 He lingered on during eighteen days. For a great portion 
 of that time, the churches of Nancy and Luneville were 
 crowded with citizens, who eagerly joined in the prayers for 
 his recovery. When public announcement was made, on 
 the 23d of February, that Stanislaus of Poland had breathed 
 his last, crowds of his old subjects rushed into the palace 
 with exclamations of sorrow, and cast themselves on his 
 body. They honoured the man, although they had suffered 
 under an administration which they knew was forced upon 
 him by France. Stanislaus, says Grrimm, could not have a 
 more touching funeral oration than this testimony of the 
 popular aftection. " His subjects are in despair," writes 
 Walpole, " for he was a model of goodness and humanity 
 uniting, or rather creating generosity from economy." 
 He bequeathed, according to the same writer, 600,000 
 livres and a life-annuity of 40,000 crowns to his daughter, 
 the Queen of France. His other daughter had died early. 
 " His buildings, his employment of the poor, his magnifi- 
 cence, and his economy were constant topics of admiration." 
 The funeral oration of Stanislaus is emphatically declared by 
 Walpole to be " a noble subject." Grrimm is of much the 
 same opinion ; but the correspondent of the Duke of Saxe- 
 Grotha adds, " Stanislaus has not cared to preserve the name 
 of ' the beneficent,' after his death. He has left a pension 
 to nobody. His benevolence to the oiBcers of his house- 
 hold, great and small, is limited to allo^dng them a full 
 year's salary." Grimm hinted that the liberality of Louis 
 XV. would make up for the want of it in his father-in-law, 
 whose death, nevertheless, is described by Grrimm as an 
 irreparable loss for Lorraine. 
 
 As I recently stood by the tomb of Stanislaus, in the
 
 406 MONARCnS EETIBED FKOM BUSINESS. 
 
 church of Notre Dame de Bon Secours, at Nancy, the re- 
 collection of the extraordinary career of the man was forcihly 
 impressed upon me. He found compensation for his own 
 fall, in the thought that he had founded a dynasty in Prance ; 
 but his daughter's son, the Dauphin, died before he could 
 enjoy his great inheritance, and the Dauphin's three sons, 
 Louis XVI., Louis XVIII., and Charles X., the great grand- 
 children of Stanislaus, endured a worse fate by succeeding, 
 for a time, to the inheritance unenjoyed by their happier 
 sire. There is still one male heir of the line of Stanislaus — 
 the exiled Bourbon Prince who, in his retirement at Frohs- 
 dorf, is known by the title of Henri V., and whose chance 
 of recovering the throne once occupied by Louis XV. and 
 Maria Leczinska might be considered small indeed, were 
 it not that, according to the old saying, " tout arrive en 
 France !" 
 
 On the right-hand side of the altar, in the church at 
 Nancy, is the tomb of Stanislaus. He is represented, semi- 
 recumbent, attired in the rohe-de-chamhre in which he was 
 so fatally bui'ued at Luneville. Beneath the figure is a half- 
 (joncealed globe, signifying perhaps that the demi-monde 
 went in mourning for the gay yet pious old Prince. Be- 
 neath the globe is the genius of Lorraine, busily occupied 
 in engraving the name of Stanislaus on the tablet of memory. 
 On a line with the busy genius, is a large Charity ; she looks 
 sleepy, sick, and maudlin ; and a hungry baby is tugging at 
 her breast, in apparent disgust at the inefficiency of his at- 
 tempts. Exactly opposite, on the other side of the altar, is 
 the monument of the wife of Stanislaus, Catherine Opzinska, 
 who, after an unobtrusive life, died in Lorraine, in the year 
 1747. Her graceful effigy is being led heavenward by a still 
 more graceful angel, who leaves below, on earth, a magnifi- 
 cent testimony of the worth of the departed Catherine. 
 Among the fair thiugs said of her is (I quote fi-om memory) 
 that ?he was " Supra modum admirabilis magno animo quo
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 407 
 
 prospera tulit et adversa" — worthy of admiration for the 
 greatness of mind with which she bore both prosperity and 
 adversity. The heart of their daughter, the wife of Louis 
 XY., was deposited in the vault beneath ; but in the fury 
 of the first Eevolution, neither mortal remains, nor the monu- 
 ments beneath which they were entombed, were spared. At 
 the restoration, Stanislaus and his family recovered their 
 tombs, which continue to be among the great attractions of 
 all visitors to Nancy. 
 
 The statue of Stanislaus has been erected on the " Place,'' 
 which bears his name, by " grateful Lorraine." The effigy 
 is that of a fat old gentleman, with a sensual look. There 
 is warrant in his face that he could get powerfully refreshed 
 with Tokay, and not only invent new dishes, but consume 
 them Avith alacrity. The pedestal is covered with the list 
 of his good deeds ; and in face of such a register, we may 
 pardon his human failings in connection with gallantry and 
 gastronomy. 
 
 The literary works of the ex-king Stanislaus were pub- 
 lished in a collected form, a few years after his death, in 
 four quarto volumes. They were published under the title 
 of the ' Works of the Beneficent Philosopher.' Two 
 volumes of this collection are occupied by the King's 
 work on Poland, entitled, the ' Free Yoice of the Citizen.' 
 Stanislaus was among the first who attacked the " dis- 
 course" of Pousseau, against the sciences. As an author, the 
 ex- King perhaps mistook goodwill for capacity ; his powers 
 were respectable, but not great. He was in the twenty- 
 ninth year of his government of Lorraine when he died. 
 Exactly the same number of Dukes of Lorraine had ruled 
 iii the Duchies before him ; and Stanislaus reigned — a year 
 for every Duke. Lorraine is singularly proud of him as a 
 writer. They who will consult his letters in the Egerton 
 MSS. in the British Museum, will find that he was a care- 
 less speller and an indiflerent grammarian. An equal con-
 
 408 MONAllCHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 tempt for ortlaograpliy and syntax mark tlie letters of the 
 quiet Queen Catherine, and their daughter, who ultimately 
 married Louis XY. Stanislaus writes " ce s'ent''^ for "ce 
 sonf ;^' the Queen speaks of the " estime avec le qyCelle^'' etc., 
 and Maria Leczinska thanks a lady for "la cJiiene" which 
 had been sent her as a gift, but which is so spelt as to leave 
 us in uncertainty whether " Marie, Princess de Pologne," 
 meant to return thanks for a golden chain to decorate her 
 royal neck, or for some curled cliienne of a poodle, trained 
 to her office like Belinda's ShocJc. 
 
 It is germane to my svibject to notice that the pedestal on 
 which the statue of Stanislaus rests, once supported a royal 
 figure, which was summarily cast down, never to be restored. 
 Thereon originally stood the bronze presentment of Louis 
 XY. The person most active in procuring subscriptions 
 for the erection of this statue, was sent to Yersailles by 
 Stanislaus, to reap the reward of his loyalty. Louis offered 
 him the chief honour of being accounted " noble." This ho- 
 nour however had been already conferred on the gentleman. 
 Louis consulted Stanislaus, who recommended that the 
 "noble" gentleman should be '■'■ en-nohled^'' — that is, have 
 ancestors allotted to him by the heralds. "Pardi!" said 
 Louis, " why not ? — at Berlin they are getting up a book 
 to explain the sixteen hundred and sixty-four quarterings 
 in the arms of the Prince of Prussia. We will give half as 
 many right noble ancestors to this gentleman of Lorraine." 
 And it was done accordingly ! 
 
 The Lorraiuers, despite their boasted nationality, accepted 
 every new master submissively, and they now saw the de- 
 parture of the old one with resignation. They loved their 
 strong-handed old Duke ; they paid affectionate homage to 
 Stanislaus, without troubling themselves about his ortho- 
 graphy ; and they cheered lustily, with some resei'vation of 
 grumbling, when they were annexed to France. In short, 
 like the " sauntering Jack and idle Jane " of Prior,
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 409 
 
 " Their billet at the fire was found, 
 Whoever was deposed or crown'd." 
 
 And they echoed the prophecy of Gresset, the poet whom 
 Stanislaiis laughingly allowed to write odes in his praise, and 
 who was so little inspired as to enunciate the following vati- 
 cination, which cannot be read now without a smile at the 
 predictions of rhyming court-favourites. Good-humoured 
 Gresset thus fancied the future destiny of mankind, as af- 
 fected by the marriage of the daughter of Stanislaus Avith 
 Louis XV. : — 
 
 " Atasi, par d'heureux arantages, 
 Le sang des Heros Jagellons 
 Ya colder pendant tons les ages, 
 Joint au sang des Heros Bourbons. 
 Cette source iUustre et feconde 
 Donnera des vaiaqueurs au monde 
 Et des maitres a nos neveux ; 
 Et les souverains de la France 
 Compteront, avec complaisance, 
 Stanislas entre leurs aievix." 
 
 Perhaps the best legacy left by this good-humoured mon- 
 arch to posterity, was his collection of ' Traits of Moral 
 Coiu'age for Every-day Life.' Each one commences with 
 a "Have the courage to — ;" but one such commencement 
 may be economically made for the introduction of many. 
 The ' Traits ' of Stanislaus are as practically useful as the 
 Golden Eiiles of King Charles. " Have the courage," says 
 Stanislaus, " to pay yoiu' debts at once ; to do without what 
 you do not need ; to know when to speak and when to be 
 silent ; to set down every penny you spend, and to look at 
 the sum-total weekly; to pass yoiu' host's lackey without 
 giving him a shilling, when you. cannot afford it, and more 
 especially when he has not earned it ; to acknowledge that 
 you are poor ; to confess a fault ; to keep to a resolution 
 only when it is a good one ; to make no secret of yovir age, 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 410 MONAECHS RETIRED FROM BUSINESS, 
 
 aud to compare it, at the same time, witli tlie allotted age of 
 man ; to make your will, — a just one ; to face difficulties, 
 which are often like thieves, and run away if you only look 
 at them ; to avoid accommodation-bills ; to refrain from 
 borrowing money, even from your dearest friend ; to have 
 suspicion of projects promising large interest ; to teU a man 
 why you won't, rather than that you can't, lend him money ; 
 to enhance every gift by making it at some sacrifice ; to wear 
 old clothes till you can afford to pay for new ; to openly obey 
 God in spite of the ridicule of man ; and to keep your feet 
 from getting damp, and to see that your wife and family 
 take the same precautions ! 
 
 These are homely truths, and there are many more of them; 
 but it is not every monarch that has done as much for con- 
 temporaries or posterity, as Stanislaus in the above maxims, 
 — some of which he pleasantly neglected ; and he suffered 
 accordingly. But there is nothing so easy as to furnish 
 excellent precepts ; nothing so common as for them to be 
 broken by the furnisher. Calanus, who was in the train of 
 Alexander, was reputed the very wisest of philosophers. He 
 had never in his life been iU, and he enjoined patience as a 
 necessary regime to those who were. Suddenly, he was at- 
 tacked with colic ; and the wisest and most stoical of philo- 
 sophers, disgusted with a humanity that was subject to sto- 
 mach-ache, very deliberately destroyed himself at Pasargada.
 
 411 
 
 STANISLAUS PONIATOWSKI. 
 
 " He walk'd his perilous way, 
 With the grey hairs of kingly sorrow crown'd." 
 
 Gerald Massey. 
 
 If Stanislaus Leczinski was, according to his owu ex- 
 pression, an "adventurer," with equal propriety may the term 
 be applied to Stanislaus Augustus II. He was of an old 
 and impoverished family, but he had the tastes of an lieir to 
 boundless weath. He was known in the circles of London 
 and Paris, long before he himself suspected that he should 
 ascend a throne, or be the favourite of a sovereign. In the 
 latter city, his extravagance brought him within the walls of 
 a debtors' prisou, whence the liberality of Madame Geoffrin 
 rescued him. In London he lived poorly; but he was a 
 Count and a foreigner, and he had ready access to all sa- 
 loons. With one of the friends he made there. Sir Hanbui'y 
 WUliams, he repaired to St. Petersburg, where his com- 
 panion, Ambassador from England, presented him to the 
 Grand-Duchess Catherine ; and that celebrated and well- 
 judging lady welcomed the Polish stranger Avith a warmth 
 which gave promise of a brilliant future to Poniatowski. The 
 position of the latter at Court was improved by his being- 
 appointed Ambassador from Poland ; but he so abused his 
 position that even the Court of Versailles affected to be 
 scandalized, and the young Envoy was recalled. 
 
 At the death of Augustus III., in 1763, the influence of 
 Catherine, then Czarina, carried Poniatowski to the Polish 
 throne. He was crowned in 1764, at wliieh time he was thirtv-
 
 412 MONAECHS EETIEED FEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 two years of age. He ennobled his family, governed T^itli 
 prudence, and established religious liberty. But he failed to 
 please the nobility ; and the toleration he had reluctantly de- 
 clared was so resented by the leading Eoman Catholics, that 
 they proclaimed the throne vacant, and resolved to get posses- 
 sion of his person. He was dragged from his carriage, by the 
 conspirators, on the night of the 3rd September, 1771. He 
 was fired at, beaten, trailed through the mud by mounted 
 horsemen, and he found none to strike a blow for him but 
 a menial servant. The rest of his attendants took to flight. 
 The conspirators tore his orders from him, flung him on to 
 a horse, compelled him to leap the city fosse with them, and, 
 having carried him into the open country, wandered they 
 hardly knew whither ; and not till they came upon a Russian 
 post, from which Stanislaus himself warned them, did they 
 waver in their design of murdering him. Some fell away 
 from their comrades ; and at last Stanislaus, exhausted and 
 bewildered, was left alone with Kosinski, the chief agent of 
 the Eoman Catholic conspirators. With infinite difficidty tlie 
 King softened the heart of this cruel man towards him ; and 
 under promise of pardon, Stanislaus was conducted to the Mill 
 of Mariamont, whence he despatched a letter to the capital, 
 where doubt and consternation reigned. On his being re- 
 stored to his friends, the conspirators were seized, tried, and 
 subjected to various punishments, — death or imprisonment, 
 — save Kosinski, with whom Stanislaus kept strict faith. 
 
 The restoration of the King was of no advantage to the 
 kingdom. The latter was torn by rival parties and deso- 
 lated by the plague, when it was surrounded by the armies 
 of Russia, Prussia, and Austria. The partial partition of 
 Poland, resolved upon in 1772, was effected in 1773 ; and 
 the constitution was so modified by Eussia, that Stanislaus 
 saw himself reduced to a mere magistrate, incapable of com- 
 ing to any decision, save under the sanction of Eussia. He 
 did his utmost, however, in the difficult circumstances which
 
 STANISLAUS PONIATOWSKT. 413 
 
 surrounded him, for the benefit of his country. He was op- 
 posed by the nobles and trammelled by the three Powers 
 who had seized upon four thousand square miles of Polish 
 territory ! Prussia was extremely active in urging Stanis- 
 laus to act independently, and proinised him full support. 
 It is to his credit that he struggled to create a middle class 
 between the nobles and the serfs, and to make the succes- 
 sion hereditary. The constitution of the 3rd of May, 1791, 
 brought about by his efforts, and lauded by Pox, Burke, Vol- 
 ney, and Tom Paine, would have secured a wholesome liberty 
 to the nation ; but it was denounced by Eussia, vainly de- 
 fended by Kosciusko, and finally destroyed, in 1792, when 
 Stanislaus was compelled to accept the terms of the confe- 
 deration of Targowitz, and the decision of the Russian-or- 
 ganized diet of Grodno. Poland struggled again, and that 
 nobly, against her powerful assailants. But she struggled 
 vainly ; Kosciusko fovight fruitlessly. The second partition 
 of Poland was made between her gigantic plunderers, Rus- 
 sia and Prussia j and thirty years after Catherine had helped 
 Poniatowsky to ascend the throne, she dragged him from it, 
 and re-consigned him to obscurity. 
 
 The last effort of the Poles was deprived of ordinary 
 chance of success, by the popular imitation of the excesses 
 of the Prench Revolution. A great portion of the nobi- 
 lity, and the entire body of clergy, held aloof from the insur- 
 gents or patriots who had established in "Warsaw a tribunal 
 of terror. The cause of Poland, in fact, had fallen into bad 
 hands. The first Polish triumphs were avenged by Suwarrow, 
 — that Russian chief whose "catechism" suggests the uti- 
 lity of massacring the wounded, — and Kosciusko was a pri- 
 soner. "Wliile the catastrophe became more imminent, Stanis- 
 laus Poniatowsky remained in Warsaw, entirely neglected, 
 almost forgotten ; audit has been suggested that had success 
 attended the popular cause, his life would probably have 
 been sacrificed, — for ' hatred against Kings ' was the new
 
 414 MONARCHS EETIKED FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 Paris fashion imported into Poland — though adopted only 
 by a party. 
 
 The Powers by whom Stanislaus Poniatowski has been so 
 pitilessly despoiled, assigned him a pension of 200,000 du- 
 cats, upon which he lived respectably, yet sadly, at Grodno, 
 where he devoted himself to literary pursuits, and com- 
 posed a few psalms. In 1797, after the death of Catherine, 
 he removed to St. Petersburg, on the invitation of Paul. In 
 whatever circle he moved, the fallen monarch made friends. 
 The Court was too barbarous to know how to respect the 
 victim of such great calamities, and he was there treated 
 with studied contempt. One day, at a crowded Court, over- 
 come by fatigue and the infirmities of age, he timidly ven- 
 tured to sit down on a chair. Paul observed the act, and 
 with the malice of Baton Khan, whose Tartar blood was ever 
 uppermost in him, he sent an Aide-de-camp to the old King, 
 who insolently commanded him to rise, and impudently re- 
 proved him for daring to be seated in the presence of the 
 Czar. The aged King obeyed, and resumed the required 
 attitude of respect. The last indignity put upon him oc- 
 curred in his forced presence at Moscow, at the coronation 
 of Alexander I. Subsequently he retired to St. Petersburg, 
 where the broken-hearted old man lived in retirement ; and 
 that but for a short time. The last and best-intentioned of 
 the Kings of Poland was carried off by apoplexy, on the 12th 
 of February, 1798. 
 
 KINGS OF POLAND. 
 House or Piast. 
 
 999. Boleslaus I. He was the sixth Duke, reckoning from 
 the peasant Piast, in 842, and the first King, of 
 Poland. 
 1025. Miecislaus II.
 
 KINGS or POLAND. 415 
 
 A.D. 
 
 Inteeeegntjm. 
 1041. Casimir the Pacific. 
 
 1058. Boleslaus II., killed Archbisliop Stanislaus. 
 1081. "N-ladislaus I., the Careless. 
 11 02-. Boleslaus III., Wry mouth. 
 1338. Vladislaus II. 
 1146. Boleslaus IV., the Curled. 
 1173. Mtecislaus III., the Old. Deposed. 
 1177. Casimir II., the Just. 
 1191. Lesko V , the White. 
 1203. Vladislaus III., resigned. 
 1206. Lesko V. restored ; he was killed in 1227. 
 1221. Boleslaus V., the Chaste. 
 1279. Lesko the Black. 
 
 Anarchy. 
 1295. Prczemislaus. 
 1300. Wenceslaus of Bohemia. 
 1306. Vladislaus IV., the Short. 
 
 1333. Casimir the Great ; who named as his successor, 
 1370. Louis, King of Hungary. 
 
 Intebregnitm:. 
 1384. Hedwige, his daughter. She married JageUo, Duke 
 of Lithuania, who subsequently reigned alone. 
 
 Jagellon Dynasty. 
 
 1386. Vladislaus V. 
 1434. Madislaus VI. 
 
 Interregnum. 
 1445. Casimir IV. 
 1492. Jolm I. ~) 
 
 1501. Alexander. ^ sons of Casimir. 
 1506. Sigismund I. J 
 
 1548. Sigismund II., Augustus. Last of the male line of 
 Jagellon. 
 
 Interregnum.
 
 33208 
 
 416 MOIs'^ARCHS EETIUED TEOM BUSINESS. 
 
 A.D. 
 
 1574. Henry of Yalois ; Duke of Aujou, elected. He was 
 
 afterwards Henry III. of France. 
 
 1575. Stephen Battliory. 
 Anarchy. 
 
 1586. Sigisnnmd III. 
 1632. Vladislaus VII. 
 1649. John (II.) Casimir; abdicated. 
 
 Interregnum. 
 1668. Michael. 
 
 Interregnum. 
 1674. John (III.) Sobieski. 
 
 Interregnum. 
 1697. Frederick Augustus of Saxony ; set aside by Charles 
 
 XII. for 
 1704. Stanislaus Leczinski ; abdicated. 
 1710. Frederick Augustus, restored. 
 1733. Frederick Augustus II. . 
 
 Interregnum. 
 1764. Stanislaus Augustus Poniatowski, the last King of 
 Poland ; deposed 1795. 
 
 end of volume I. 
 
 JOUN EDWARD TAVLOB, PBINIEB, 
 LITTLE (vUEErC STEKUT, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.
 
 
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